Her puzzlement was pushed aside by surprise as she realized the only thing the cylinder could be: a niling d-sink. They were the ultimate storage devices, and as such had very few uses within the Commonwealth simply because very few people really needed to store that much power. CST used them as back-up supplies for their wormhole gateways, but she couldn’t remember any other organization, commercial or government, having a use for them. They were a quirk of physics, a zero-size sink hole in spacetime which you could keep filling with energy. Theoretically, any power level could be contained providing the confining quantum field was strong enough. And after uninterrupted decades of charging from the heat exchange cable, this one would have an accumulated power level that wasn’t so much measured in kilowatt hours, more like kilotonnage.
So, a niling d-sink that pushed out an em pulse . . . Unshielded!
Justine got out of the shelter quickly. If it truly was unshielded, the electromagnetic emission would be intense enough to harm her nervous system as the quantum field cycled ready to admit its next input charge.
She hurried away, even more confused now she’d found the source. It began to rain before she got a hundred yards. The storm which had split to curve around the volcano had finally caught up with her.
*
Kazimir McFoster watched the girl pull a fist-sized ball of shiny blue plastic out of the compartment which had opened under the hyperglider’s cockpit. He was sheltering behind a finicus bush, fifty metres away from where the sleek machine had landed. Rain pattered away on his head and the long dark-crimson leaves alike. He paid it no heed, this was the weather he had grown up with, always at this time of year the storms would come in the morning. In another hour or so the rain clouds would have blown away to the east leaving the rest of the day mercilessly hot and humid.
The girl casually threw the ball over her shoulder, then tugged a big cylindrical bag from the compartment. He was impressed, for the bag was large and obviously heavy. But despite the clumsy way she carried it, she could lift it easily. She was strong. All offworlders were strong, he knew that. What he hadn’t expected was her beauty.
He had seen the glider pass overhead an hour earlier, a simple cruciform shape, black against the glaring sapphire sky. The sight had enthralled him, it was so graceful, so elegant. All the stories and learning of the Commonwealth and its ways had never prepared him for this. That a machine could be so poised, not just in shape but in function, was a revelation. Machines as Kazimir knew them were blunt and functional.
From his vantage point atop a lava outcrop he’d watched as it swooped ever lower over the jungle. Only once did it wobble in an ungainly fashion, and that was only for an instant. Then its wings had moved like those of a nimble bird as it alighted in the open space. Kazimir had stood looking at the place where it had sunk from sight behind the trees, a simpleton’s smile on his face. It took him a while to realize he was exposed on the rock. Harvey would scold him relentlessly for such a lapse, there would probably be short rations as well to emphasize the point. He was supposed to be well past making such stupid mistakes; that was why he was out here alone in this his final groundwalk, to prove he had mastered the wild. After he returned alive to the clan in another fifteen days, he would be ready to join battle against the alien monster. But not if he stood around like a first year novice, offering himself as an easy target for any enemy who might be passing.
Kazimir dropped down off the rock and back into the undergrowth. He thought for a moment, placing the glider’s position in his mind. Then he was ready to pathfind through the trees, alert for enemies, focused on his goal.
By the time he’d stealthily crept up to the fringes of the lengthy clearing where the glider had landed, it was raining heavily. He couldn’t see anyone, so he’d found himself a safe place of concealment, and settled down to observe the sleek craft. The girl had appeared a couple of minutes later, her face screwed up against the rain as she hurried out of the trees. She was all in white, a few scraps of cloth clinging to her slender frame. And she was so beautiful. Like an angel, Kazimir thought. An angel come down from the sky.
The blue ball which the girl had discarded on the ground began to swell, with folds of thin plastic bulging out in odd shapes. The whole mass rolled around as if it were a living creature in pain. A minute later it had become a bulbous hemispherical shelter four metres across at the base, with a single opening, like a bloated tent. Kazimir nodded in appreciation. His own night-shelter was a little sac of shapeshift membrane which he could inflate with a small electric current. It kept him warm and dry at night, but it wasn’t big enough to move around in. This was a palace in comparison.
The girl hurried inside. Kazimir saw her grimace as she pulled a shabby soaking-wet hat from her head and ran her hands back through equally wet white-blonde hair. She delved into her cylindrical bag and produced a towel, which she rubbed vigorously over herself.
Every movement fascinated Kazimir. She had long limbs, all of them perfectly shaped. The way she held her head; proud but never arrogant. Not her. Not the angel.
She eventually finished with the towel, and went over to the fat tent’s opening to peer out. Kazimir held his breath as she looked at the thick bush sheltering him. She smiled coyly, and the universe was a happier place because of it.
For a second.
‘It must be uncomfortable crouching behind that bush,’ she called. ‘Why don’t you come out into the open?’
Kazimir’s heart thudded loudly. She must be talking to him, she must have known he was there all along. He fumed, angry that his lack of skill had been mocked so. Yet the angel was still looking at him, head cocked to one side, an expectant expression in place. There actually wasn’t any mockery, he decided.
He rose to his feet, and looked from side to side, half-expecting the enemy’s hunters to be there, waiting and grinning. But there was only the rain. So Kazimir had a simple choice, turn and leave, and never see her beauty again, or walk over and let her see him – which, apparently, she could anyway.
He walked towards the blue hemisphere, still wary. The angel regarded him with a guarded expression as he approached. One of her hands was holding a slim cylinder which he knew had to be some kind of weapon.
‘You don’t have any friends nearby, do you?’ she asked.
‘I walk this forest alone. I need no help to survive here.’
She seemed amused by this. ‘Of course.’ The weapon was pushed discreetly into a pouch on her belt. ‘Would you like to come in out of the rain? There’s plenty of room in here.’
‘You are most kind. I thank you.’ When he ducked inside, he was suddenly, unaccountably, overwhelmed by her presence. His eyes sought out the smooth features of the interior, looking everywhere but at her.
‘My name’s Justine,’ she said gently. There was a hesitancy in her voice, as if she was as uncertain as he.
‘Kazimir,’ he said. ‘How did you know I was there?’
A slim arm was raised, a finger tapping just below her right eye. ‘My inserts have an infrared capability. You were shining quite brightly.’ Her lips twitched. ‘You’re hot you know.’
‘Oh.’ But he’d foolishly followed the motion of her hand, and now couldn’t look away from her face. Her eyes were light green, he saw, with slim eyebrows. She had long, prominent cheekbones, and a somewhat flattish jaw; a slender button nose poised above wide, moist lips. Every feature was delicate, yet together they awarded her a sophistication he was sure he could never match. And her flawless skin was a shade of pale honey-gold he’d never known before. In surprise, he realized she was very young, close to his own seventeen years. Yet she had flown the glider through the heart of the storm. The courage and talent that must take . . . He looked at his feet again, aware of distance opening between them.
‘Here you go,’ she said kindly, and handed him the towel she was holding. ‘You’re actually wetter than I am.’
Kazimir looked at it in confusion for a moment, before slip
ping his small backpack off. ‘Thank you.’ He mopped the moisture off his face, then shrugged out of his leather waist-coat. The towel’s thin fabric seemed to suck the droplets off his chest and back as he rubbed, leaving his skin perfectly dry.
Justine reached into her bag, and produced another towel for herself. He was aware of her eyes on him, narrowed with amusement, as he dried his shins and calves. So he stopped at his knees, not lifting his kilt to dry his thighs, though they weren’t that damp, the kilt was reasonably waterproof.
‘What tartan is that?’ she asked.
He glanced down at the emerald and copper check, and smiled with pride. ‘I am a McFoster.’
Justine produced a sound which sounded suspiciously like a snort. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said contritely. ‘But, with that skin colour, it’s a little difficult to picture you as a native clansman.’
Kazimir frowned. His skin was a rich brown, complemented by thick jet hair which he wore long and tied back with a single scarlet band; how could colours prevent him from being a clan member? Between them, the clans had members from most of old Earth’s racial groups. His grand-mother always told wonderful tales of her grandmother’s early life in India. ‘I don’t understand. My ancestors were one of the first families to be saved by Bradley Johansson.’
‘Johansson? We’re not talking Scottish clans here, are we?’
‘What’s a Scottish?’
‘Never mind.’ She looked out of the entrance at the steady downpour of warm rain. ‘It looks like we’ve got a bit of time to spend together. Tell me about your clan, Kazimir.’
‘The rains will only last another hour.’
‘How long a story is it?’
He grinned at her, warmed by her answering smile. The angel was so achingly beautiful, any excuse to remain close to her was welcome. As if knowing this, the wall of the tent beside him changed shape, and expanded out to form a couch. They sat on it together.
‘Tell me,’ she urged. ‘I want to know about your world.’
‘Will you tell me of your flight?’
‘I will.’
He nodded his head, happy at the promised trade. ‘There are seven clans living on Far Away. Together we form the Guardians of Selfhood.’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ she murmured.
‘We stand between the Starflyer alien and human ruin. Alone of all our race, we see the danger it has brought with its shadows of deceit and its manipulation of vain men and women. Bradley Johansson opened our eyes to the truth long ago. One day, thanks to him, we will help this planet take its revenge.’
‘That sounds like something you’ve been taught, Kazimir.’
‘Since the moment I drew my first breath, I have known what I am, and what I must face. Ours is a harsh burden, none of you offworlders believe in our cause, you are blind to the alien’s poison. Yet we endure because of our faith and our gratitude. Bradley Johansson is our saviour, and one day, all of humanity will know him as their saviour.’
‘How did he save you?’
‘As he was saved. By decency and kindness. He came to this world amongst the first people, and began to investigate the alien’s ship.’
‘I heard that,’ Justine said. ‘He was the first director of the Marie Celeste Research Institute, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes. People say it is deserted, a wreck, abandoned and empty. It is not; that is what the alien would have humanity believe. It survived the crash.’
‘There’s a living alien here, from the arkship?’
‘It used to be here, it passed into the Commonwealth long ago, where it moves amongst us, hidden and evil.’
‘Really? So you’ve never seen it for yourself, then?’
‘I have never left Far Away. But one day the Starflyer will return when its schemes reach fruition. I hope that is within my lifetime. I would like to be a part of its downfall.’
‘What does it look like?’
‘Nobody knows what it looks like, not even Bradley Johansson is sure. He may have seen it, he can’t remember. Many of his old thoughts were lost when he was liberated.’
‘Okay, so this Starflyer survived the crash. What happened then?’
‘It ignited the flare in Far Away’s sun to lure the unsuspecting here. And when Bradley Johansson delved into the secrets of the ship, he awoke the Starflyer and was enslaved by it. For many years he toiled under its control, helping to extend its influence into the Commonwealth, whispering into the hearts of those in power, issuing false promises and shaping the tide of events. But the Starflyer was ignorant of this part of the galaxy, and troubled by the other races who live here, fearful they would thwart its goals. Not all of them are as ignorant and prideful as us. It sent Bradley to Silvergalde so that he could experience the Silfen first hand and report back on what he found. But the Silfen are wiser than humans and the Starflyer; they could see the bonds which it had cast into Bradley’s mind, and cut him free.’
‘Ah, the liberation.’
‘Yes. They cured him. Some men, having been freed, would run away from such a horror so they could remain free. But Bradley knew there was a greater danger in that; he said that for wickedness to succeed all it takes is for decent people to do nothing.’
‘Bradley Johansson said that, did he?’
‘Yes. He returned to Far Away and liberated others who had been enslaved by the Starflyer. They were the seven families who grew into the clans.’
‘I see.’ Her voice was serious.
Kazimir glanced anxiously at her. The expression on her face was terribly sober. It saddened him; that lovely face should only know happiness. Wasn’t protecting her and her kind what he had given his life to? ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her. ‘We will guard you from the Starflyer. It will not succeed. This planet will be revenged.’
Her head tipped to one side as she gave him a long, thoughtful gaze. ‘You really mean that, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
For some reason the answer troubled her. ‘It’s a very noble thing that you do, Kazimir. Nobility exerts a kinship which is hard to break.’
‘The Starflyer will never corrupt my loyalty to my clan and our cause.’
Justine laid a hand on his arm. ‘I respect that.’
Kazimir tried to smile confidently at her, but she still seemed sad, and her touch, light though it was, distracted him terribly. She was so very close. And neither of them was wearing much clothing. Lustful, yet wondrous, thoughts began to percolate through Kazimir’s mind.
Justine gave his arm a quick little squeeze, and suddenly looked round. ‘Oh look, it’s stopped raining.’ She sat up and went over to the entrance. ‘The sun’s out again.’ Her smile was lovely. She was the angel again.
Kazimir got to his feet, and took a moment to put his waistcoat back on. He went outside and stood behind her as she slipped a steel band around her face. It disappointed him that he could no longer see her eyes. The sunlight made her white T-shirt nearly transparent. She was as tall as he.
‘Did you really fly over the volcano?’ he asked hurriedly.
‘Uh huh.’
‘That must take so much courage.’
She laughed. ‘Just stupidity, I think.’
‘No. You are not stupid, Justine. Never that.’
A finger hooked over the top of her sunglasses, and she pulled them down a fraction to stare at him over the rim. ‘Thank you, Kazimir. That’s very sweet.’
‘What was it like?’
‘Crazy! Wonderful!’ She popped her sunglasses back up, and started telling him about the flight.
Kazimir listened, fascinated by a world and life as alien to his as that of the Starflyer. Justine possessed a perfect existence. It gladdened him to know that such a life was real, that humans could reach such a state. One day, perhaps, when the Starflyer was vanquished, all of them would live as she did.
It must be fate, he decided, that he’d met her. This vision, his own personal angel, come to show him that he was right to try and protect human l
ife. She was his inspiration, his private miracle.
‘You must be very rich,’ he said when she finished telling him about the landing. ‘To afford such a craft that has no purpose other than to bring you enjoyment.’
She shrugged casually. They were both lounging on the bank above the little stream that gurgled its way along the clearing. ‘Everybody who visits Far Away is rich, I guess. It’s not easy to get here.’ She tipped her head back to admire the tufty clouds drifting across the sapphire basin of the sky. ‘But definitely worthwhile. You have a strange and lovely world, Kazimir.’
‘What do your parents think of you coming here by yourself? And taking such risks? That flight was very dangerous.’
Her head came round quickly, as if she’d been shocked by the question. ‘My parents? Ah, well, let’s see. My parents always encouraged me to be myself. They wanted me to live my life as best I can. And this, Mount Herculaneum, you, this has to be one of those classic moments that make life worthwhile and give you the confidence to go on and just experience what the universe has to offer.’
‘Me? I think not.’
‘Yes, you. Here you are on your own adventure, all by yourself facing whatever the volcano and the land throws at you. That makes you a lot braver than me.’
‘No.’
‘Yes!’
‘No!’
They both laughed. Justine took her sunglasses off, and smiled warmly at him. ‘I’m starving,’ she said. ‘Fancy trying some decadent Earth food?’
‘Yes please!’
She sprang up, and raced towards the glider. Kazimir hurried after her, awed by how high her perfect, slender body floated above the ground as she ran.
They sat cross-legged on the ground, and she fed him morsels of food, eager for his reactions. Some of it was delicious, most was simply strange, the hot curried meats he screwed his face up as he swallowed. ‘Wash it down with this,’ she told him. The white wine she gave him was light and sweet. He sipped it appreciatively.
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