The Terran Cycle Boxset

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “Neat trick. What’s the ball for?” Esabelle half shouted the question before adjusting to the new environment.

  “These privacy booths aren’t so private.” He pointed to the ceiling. “The Brenine I mentioned, Revus, he likes to have his finger in every pie. Nothing goes through here without him knowing about it. Ch’len made the... I forget what he calls it, for this exact situation. That little ball keeps our business our own.”

  “So what happened with the data transfer?”

  “The address doesn’t exist anymore. Goodbye, fifty thousand units!” Roland downed his drink in one, allowing his head to slump into the cushion behind.

  “I would very much like to know who wanted that data. Did they know what was on Ral-vet’s array?”

  “Well if you find them, you let them know they owe me.”

  “It’s possible we aren’t the only ones investigating this,” Esabelle said with caution.

  Roland’s right arm vibrated as the flexi-screen around his jacket sleeve alerted him of an incoming call; there was only one person who had his details.

  “Where’s the money?” Ch’len’s voice came from the inbuilt speakers in the corners of the screen as his face spread across the screen. “I’m checking the account and there’s no money dropping into it. Where is it, Roland?”

  “There’s been a slight hitch,” Roland continued. “We’re not getting paid the rest of the bounty.” He immediately turned the volume down as Ch’len unleashed a string of obscenities.

  “So we’re out fifty thousand units and you’re just sat there drinking?”

  “We’re going into Protocorps Headquarters, Len. There’s bound to be something valuable in there.” Roland retrieved the schematics from his belt and placed the holo-projector on the sticky table.

  “There better be, or we’re both eating Raalakian food for the next cycle! And put your earpieces in, I can’t hear you.”

  Handing Esabelle hers, they both placed the two-way devices in their ears. Roland cancelled the call to Ch’len and activated the hologram of the hanging spires at the top of Clave Tower. The image cast them in red light with the hologram reaching two feet in the air. Roland double checked Ch’len’s invention, making sure they maintained their privacy.

  “You see those five towers clustered in the middle?” Ch’len asked. There were hundreds of towers suspended like great stalactites in the holographic image, each, in reality, a few miles in length. With Ch’len’s words, the towers on the outside began to disappear as the emitters shrank to the five central towers. The image expanded making the towers two feet tall, giving them an accurate picture of Protocorps Headquarters. “The big tower in the middle is where everything goes on. The outer buildings are administration and parking only. It’s important to note there aren’t any grav-pillars. The only way to gain access is with a vehicle; before you ask, the Rackham is too big. It could only fit on the main platform at the bottom of the central tower.” The image shifted to focus on an expansive platform attached to the very bottom. It was clearly for guests and executives only.

  “It’ll be heavily guarded anyway.” Esabelle manipulated the projector to get a better look at the outer towers. Each one was connected to the larger building via bridges that extended all the way up. “This is our way in. We go through like any other employee.”

  “Speaking of employees,” Ch’len added, “the contract between the Conclave and Protocorps is available to the public because of the responsibility they hold maintaining the AI core. They clearly state that all Conclave security is restricted to the first hundred and one floors. That means that you’ve got a hundred and twenty-six floors of non-Conclave security.”

  “Mercenaries, then.” Roland smiled at the thought. Killing mercenaries was probably the closest thing he had to a hobby; that and drinking.

  “More likely some kind of Protocorps private army. I’m surprised the Highclave would be happy with that arrangement. I can’t believe they would leave something so sensitive to all the races in the hands of just one,” Esabelle remarked.

  “It was a deal they made centuries ago, apparently. I guess the Highclave at the time couldn’t say no with what the Shay was offering.” Ch’len had already started eating something.

  It’s no wonder we’re always running out of food...

  “Do we even know where the actual AI is housed inside?” Roland was starting to rethink his newest adventure. That was an awfully large army to fight, and for what? Who knows what they’ll find in there. In fact, the only thing he knew they would find was a lot of guards eager to put holes in them. Still, there was that feeling of actually doing something, something important like he used to do. It had been a long time since he had done something worth dying for, a cause he knew was right. Fighting the Gomar had given him that feeling.

  “No, its location has never been revealed. It could be anywhere inside,” Ch’len said.

  “Not anywhere...” Esabelle looked hopeful. “You couldn’t send the data from Ral-vet’s array, so let’s take a closer look.”

  They heard Ch’len’s constant munching stop. “I’m mining the files as we speak.”

  Roland looked at Esabelle’s untouched drink, asking her a silent question with his eyes. She sighed and relinquished the blue nectar to him. It didn’t last long.

  Ch’len audibly squealed down the line, “Even if we can’t send it to the client, there are enough corporate secrets on here to keep us filthy rich for centuries! Aside from that, it’s bad news though. According to this, the AI is located at the very apex of the central tower.”

  Roland tried to hide his exasperation at the increasingly bad situation. He might never get to make those units if he entered that building. Even Esabelle looked to be re-evaluating their situation.

  “It gets worse,” Ch’len continued. “Let’s say you do somehow manage to reach the top. The AI itself is locked behind a three-feet thick, Callic-diamond door. There’s a whole file on the door’s retrofit! There’s no way you’re getting through it without clearance.”

  “Is that gonna be a problem for you?” Roland directed his question to Esabelle.

  She looked away for a moment, no doubt weighing up her own abilities. “I probably could, but it might take a while.”

  That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Time would not be on their side. Even if they were able to get through the private army, the second the AI core was considered compromised, the Conclave would send every soldier they had to help.

  “There’s another option,” Ch’len thankfully offered. “It’s ironic actually; we might get help from another Tanek. Ral-vet put one of his own in charge of the core’s safety - Sal-dev Tanek. He has an office on the two hundred and second floor. I would bet my second stomach that rich shit can get you in.”

  “So we have to break in, reach the two hundred and second floor, grab Sal-dev, take him to the top where we ‘convince’ him to open the door to Protocorps’ biggest asset, and then what? Are we blowing the cube up or are you gonna levitate it out of there?” Roland was definitely going to need another drink.

  “I don’t know yet. It depends what we find in there.” Esabelle was opening up more of the hologram to inspect the outer towers’ interior.

  “What cube?” Ch’len butted in.

  “I’ll tell you about it later, just concentrate on getting us in and out of there,” Roland countered.

  “I have no idea how to get you out of there!”

  “That’s something else we’ll have to figure out when we get in there,”Esabelle said. “It’s more important that we actually get in there, everything else is secondary.”

  “That sound’s a lot like suicide…” Ch’len muttered in their ears.

  “Then let’s get on with it. Revus won’t be happy with our level of privacy; it’s only a matter of time before they look in on us.” Roland deactivated the holo-projector and Ch’len’s device, packing them into his belt before switching off the booth’s privacy bubble. They sl
id out and made their way to the exit. Roland gave the bar a longing look as Esabelle linked his arm, pulling him towards the door.

  “Won’t you stay for another drink?”

  Roland knew that voice. They stopped to look at the Brenine and his entourage walking down the staircase. Revus wore a well-tailored white suit to blend with his pale skin, accentuating his short dark spikes that flowed over his head. Those typical blue Brenine eyes stared back at them with hungry fascination. Roland stopped himself from checking the holo-bands around his neck and wrists.

  “Sorry, we’re meeting friends,” was Esabelle’s only reply. She didn’t need to drag Roland with her this time, he was happy to leave before Revus complicated things. He didn’t like the lingering gaze the Brenine gave them.

  They left the bar, becoming lost in the crowds as they made their way to nearest grav-pillars. It was interesting to move through the alien throng and have no one take notice of them. In his human guise he received attention everywhere he went, making certain jobs harder than others.

  After a quick ascent, they soon found themselves inside the base of Clave Tower. Its width never ceased to amaze him. From one side of the tower, the casual observer couldn’t make out the other side it was so far. Esabelle proved her worth yet again with another incredible feat of Terran power. Placing her hand on the roof of a nearby vehicle, she disabled the alarms and the AI’s control. She hesitated as the door opened. Roland followed her gaze into the crowd but couldn’t find whatever caught her attention.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. So, are you ready to start a war?” Esabelle asked, starting up the drive.

  “I don’t start wars, sweetheart, I end ‘em.”

  The Blade cut through reality, emerging at the specific coordinates pre-determined by the Conclave AI Kubrackk slammed one of his many fists into the main console, frustration getting the better of him. It took too long to get through the security checks to enter the capital planet. His prey was no doubt walking around those streets, breathing air he didn’t deserve. Spelnar had already uploaded the fake licence and identity giving his ship a new name. As far as the Conclave was concerned, they were a young Novaarian family flying the Twin Tail.

  “It was my turn to name the ship, Spelnar!” Lole whined.

  “If you had my technical skills, you could name the ship furball!” Spelnar spat back, his twin tail swishing side to side, hypnotically.

  “I swear to all your gods and my own, if you don’t shut up I’m going to use my Quad-roller as a suppository!” Kubrackk relaxed back in his chair with the usual silence that followed his threats. He wanted to stop and recharge the Intrinium cells before continuing on to the planet, but he needed to catch up with North.

  They all held their breath at the sight of the vessel in front of them. Two security ships hovered over the top of it before commanding the occupants to follow them out of the queue. These random checks were becoming costly to people in Kubrackk’s line of work. He had already heard of other members in the Bounty Clave who had tried to bribe the wrong guards and been severely punished for it. He reasoned that if the ship in front had been pulled aside, then it was unlikely to happen to them.

  “Did you upload the information correctly?” Kubrackk had no reason to doubt Spelnar’s abilities, but the armaments on those patrol ships were enough to make him second guess.

  “Of course, boss!” Spelnar re-checked the monitor at his station to confirm. A few moments later the main console flashed with the appropriate visiting pass for the Twin Tail. Kubrackk’s shoulders visibly dropped with a sigh of relief. Now there was nothing between him and his prey.

  After clearing the checkpoints, the traffic moved at a quicker pace with the capital now taking up the entire viewport. It wasn’t long before the AI requested a destination in order to take control of the ship. Kubrackk could see the benefits of having so much traffic controlled by one entity, but it didn’t make him feel any better about having something else control his ship. He hesitantly placed his hand over the holographic handle to maintain manual control before thinking better of it. That was the sort of thing the patrols would be looking for, he thought.

  “Boss?” Lole transmitted an incoming call to Kubrackk’s console. “The I.D. is registered to the Abyss. It’s Revus...”

  “I know who it is, you idiot!” Kubrackk accepted the call bringing it up on the glass monitor to his left. “What do you want, Revus?” He instantly regretted talking to the Brenine so harshly. It had been a while since he had taken on a new bounty and forgot how powerful Revus was in that world, not to mention the Brenine’s boss. That was a man Kubrackk wanted to avoid at all costs.

  “I see your time away from the game has done wonders for your anger issues.” He looked back at Kubrackk from behind the desk, above his club.

  It occurred to him how strange it was that Revus was even contacting him at all, it was usually the other way around.

  “I was sorry to hear about Torvrackk, he was a good bounty hunter. Good drinker too.”

  Hearing his brother’s name was like a knife in the back. They had hunted together for over three centuries, sharing everything as they enjoyed the spoils of their bounties.

  “What can I do for you, Revus?” His voice cracked under the strain of feigning politeness.

  “It’s what I can do for you, actually. I take it you’re still hunting the human, Roland North?”

  Kubrackk tried to keep a blank face, his business was his own and the less the Brenine had to do with it the better.

  At his silent response, Revus began to laugh as if mocking the Novaarian.

  All four of Kubrackk’s hands clenched together, cracking multiple knuckles.

  “I know you are, Kubrackk. Lole has kept me up to date on your little blood feud.”

  He turned in the pilot’s seat to stare holes into Lole’s quivering form. The Tularon looked utterly shocked. Kubrackk could feel the rage bubbling inside with the need to spill the blood of the traitor in his midst.

  “Thank you for your services, Lole,” Revus continued over the monitor, “but I’m afraid your talents are no longer required.”

  With that Kubrackk removed his Quad-roller and blew Lole’s head off in an explosion that knocked his whole body out of the chair. The contents of the Tularon’s head decorated the surrounding walls and monitors, along with Spelnar.

  “Clean that up!” he barked at the Trillik.

  “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way...” Revus relaxed back in his comfortable looking throne. “I know where he is right now.” Those words caught Kubrackk’s undivided attention. The console flashed again informing him of a new data file sitting in his inbox. The sender was Revus. “As you can see, he has recently crossed my path.” The message revealed an image from inside the Abyss of two Laronians standing by the bar. He had seen this trick before when he had worked alongside North.

  “Are you sure it is him?”

  “I would recognise the smell of a human anywhere. So unique.” A Brenine’s sense of smell was nothing to doubt. “My people are following them as we speak. This information can be yours, for a price.”

  Of course.

  “And what is this price?” Kubrackk ignored the grunts and sighs of Spelnar as he struggled to drag Lole’s heavy corpse off the bridge. He tried not to smile as he heard the Trillik slip in the blood and land in an even greater mess.

  “I want his ship.”

  Now Kubrackk couldn’t hide his reaction. The Rackham was going to be his prize after he was finished killing the human, “No deal!”

  “Then you’ll never find him.”

  Kubrackk sat back, contemplating his situation. He was honour bound to revenge his brother, it was the Novaarian way. Right now he was in no place to make the terms of this deal, he had no leverage. But once he had North, he would have access to the Rackham, and then he would be in a position to re-negotiate. Revus was simply a means to an end.

  “Fine. I get North a
nd you get the ship. Now, where is he?”

  Sal-dev’s office was perfectly placed to give one the feeling of superiority. With a wall of glass, it allowed Kel-var to look out from the Protocorps Headquarters and view the entirety of Clave Tower. Being truly massive in size, he was unable to glimpse the lower levels due to sheer distance. He turned from the dazzling view and activated the desk terminal while checking on his own devices for secure lines and total privacy within the office. He found several hidden cameras and microphones, which he quickly disabled before making the necessary calls.

  He set up a collective call to contact the entire board at once; the word of the prophet was for all of them. The smooth tabletop emitted the faces of every member as they answered the call.

  “I have spoken with the prophet,” he began. “The Helteron project is being activated ahead of schedule. We are to all oversee it in person.” There was visible distress across some of their faces, especially on Sel-gar’s over-stuffed face.

  “The Helteron project?” Sel-gar lost his words beyond the name.

  “All of us? Why in person?” Bal-son’s head floated directly in front of Kel-var.

  “Because the prophet demands it, Bal-son. And we are its humble servants, yes?” There was silence from the floating heads, each nervously glancing at the other.

  “I shall re-direct some of my resources immediately,” Gor-van promised from under his hood. “Security will not be an issue.”

  “Security has never been an issue in the Helteron cluster,” Nal-mev added. He wore distress like a mask. “That facility has more protection than the Highclave. It’s what’s inside that worries me...”

  “What is happening here, Kel-var?” Tu-garn tried to move the conversation along from Nal-mev’s comments. “Is the Terran such a threat that we turn to this?”