Heart of Granite

by James Barclay

  Max heard Valera’s sharp intake of breath and saw Jola and Sharmi spin back round. Krystyna raised a hand to keep them back.

  ‘Well, you win the prize for being the most self-centred tool I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and given I meet mainly drake pilots, you’re up against some pretty stiff competition.’

  She turned to go and the others went back to their work. Max stared at Valera who shrugged in exasperation.

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ she hissed. ‘Just remember who you’re condemning right now, eh?’

  Krystyna had disappeared back into the other room and had turned the music up. Max rubbed a hand over his face and followed her as far as the opening.

  ‘Sorry . .. I’m sorry,’ he said. Krystyna turned round and cupped a hand to her ear. Max raised his voice. ‘I’m sorry!’

  She flipped the music off bang on time and his apology bounced around the tiny space.

  ‘You do deserve respect,’ she said. ‘And so do we. Apology accepted, this time. Now what do you want?’

  ‘I need heaters for my wing. I’ve got money for thirty days’ worth. Can we deal?’

  Krystyna nodded and sparked up another cigarette. ‘We can. Got the sample?’

  Max’s heart missed a beat and the look on his face gave him away. Krystyna smiled.

  ‘Gotcha, kiddo.’ She pushed past him. ‘Okay, Val, hand it over.’

  Valera pulled a small phial from her fatigues pocket, shook the red liquid within and handed it over. Krystyna took it and Max saw sadness in her eyes, just momentarily.

  ‘Your wing . .. Kullani, right? I’m sorry, kiddo, tough on her. Good pilot. Make yourself comfortable, well, as comfortable as you can.’ She gestured at the meagre seating.

  ‘Um, what is that?’ asked Max.

  ‘Blood,’ said Krystyna, flipping the phial to Jola who caught it deftly. ‘Let’s get this batch made up.’

  ‘Blood.’

  ‘Can’t make a heater without it,’ said Krystyna.

  ‘I thought . .. actually, I don’t know what I thought. What else do you make them from, then? Stuff that smells bad for sure.’

  ‘Spot on,’ said Krystyna. ‘We’re not at the root of the tail by chance. Heaters are synthesised from digestive secretions harvested from a gland that runs by the large intestine . . . to put it bluntly we stick needles in its arse to get what we need. All very glam.’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Max. ‘How did you come by it? Just stuck needles in all sorts of places tillsomething worked?’

  Krystyna’s easy smile disappeared. ‘No, kiddo, I used to work for the ERC programme. We all did. Long story and none of your business but we need to stay close to the action, so to speak. We need data to improve our product. Just understand that I wouldn’t be living in this craphole unless I felt I had no other choice, all right?’

  Max shrugged. ‘What does the blood do, then?’

  Krystyna pursed her lips. Valera stepped in.

  ‘You get on, Krys, I’ll explain. He’s like a curious child, isn’t he?’

  ‘Like?’ said Jola.

  Valera pointed at seats around the small table and they both sat. Max watched Krystyna and Jola pipetting Kullani’s blood onto a petrie dish and setting it inside a small machine that hissed when they turned it on. Further down the bench, Sharmi had set a flask of clear liquid on an effluent burner. A sour stench rose from it. He felt uncomfortably small and ignorant.

  ‘It’s simple enough,’ said Valera. ‘Heaters have to be DNA- typed to the individual. They use the blood to synthesise a horribly complex chemical linkage that allows them to blend the base structure with the human DNA.’

  ‘So, not simple at all then,’ said Max. ‘Expensive business.’

  Valera hunkered down in her seat and folded her arms. ‘Very. Now if you don’t mind, I could do with some rest.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Max watched her close her eyes and then open one and pierce him with her stare.

  ‘Tell me you brought the EM stick.’

  ‘I brought the EM stick,’ said Max, patting his pocket. ‘The squad were very generous.’

  ‘Good.’ She closed her eye. ‘And good night.’

  Max tried to doze too, and he probably did nod off from time to time, but mostly, he was plagued by an image of a clock ticking round with excruciating sloth. He tried to watch the heater girls work but that was dull too. At one stage, Sharmi pointed out the kettle and coffee grounds and he made them all a drink heavily tainted with the all-pervasive smell in the lab and he was glad of the distraction.

  He had so many questions, now he came to have the time think about where he was and what it meant but the only time he opened his mouth to ask one of them, a sharp kick on his ankle betrayed the fact that Valera wasn’t quite as asleep as she made out.

  It was three hours before Sharmi set a small cardboard box on the table in front of him.

  ‘It’s all in basic doses,’ she said, handing it over. ‘Hypo in there too. One shot into the top of the thigh every day, works in a couple of minutes. That’s fifteen hundred Euro Marks up front.’

  Max pulled the EM stick from his pocket and handed it to Sharmi who flicked out her p-palm and made the off-grid transfer.

  ‘Don’t spend it all at once,’ he said, taking the stick back and noting the small untraceable balance still on board.

  ‘Remember, heaters are only one product we offer that stops this behemoth’s crew going collectivelyinsane. We’ve got uppers, downers, sleepers, stimmers, gutfulls, shitters, skyhighs, doubleOs, grainers, flip outs and halos. And that’s just the common stuff.’

  ‘Good to know. Thanks.’

  ‘You’ll do all right, kiddo,’ said Krystyna. ‘Time to go.’

  She gave Valera a hug, punched Max on the shoulder and turned away. Sharmi blew him a kiss. Jola didn’t even acknowledge their leaving.

  Back in D-One-Four-Four, Max found himself trembling. Valera closed the crate.

  ‘You all right?’ she asked. ‘Good to go?’

  ‘I think so. I just . .. someone’ll be doing that for me, one day. Makes you think . ..’

  ‘You were due some perspective, I guess. Shame it had to be this way.’

  ‘Why don’t the brass just shut it down?’

  Valera blew out her cheeks and walked towards the warehouse door. ‘That’s a big question. Later, all right? We need to get back. Kullani can’t wait.’

  Chapter 9

  The sheer excitement of being one of those chosen to study sentient alien biology was only topped by the honour of that calling. I remain blessed by my fortune, but saddened by the direction the research has taken.

  Doctor Helena Markov, Head of Research, Extra Reptilian Construct programme.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ Jessy shot up from her chair the moment Valera and Max entered the otherwise deserted common room. ‘Moeller’s about to page the whole behemoth for you. You were wanted an hour ago and it was urgent then.’

  ‘Well, I guess he knows where I’ve been . .. Where’s everyone else?’ asked Valera.

  Jessy shrugged. ‘They were all sleeping when the call came. Funny how everyone had seen you at Gargan’s and then gone straight to bed, isn’t it?’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Not a lot. I mean . .. everyone’s free to sleep wherever with whoever after a mission, right? And it is the middle of the night.’ She noticed the box in Max’s hands. ‘It really took you this long to get that?’

  ‘They had to complete some other orders first. You know how it is,’ said Valera. ‘I’d better head to Flight Com. Put the call through and stop the all-hail.’

  ‘Aye, Skipper.’

  ‘You know what to do, Max. And when you’re done, get some sleep.’

  ‘Good luck, Skipper,’ he said vaguely, eyes already on Kullani’s pod.

  ‘Your support is overwhelming.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Never mind. Go away.’

  Max hurrie
d along the corridor and rapped on Kullani’s door.

  ‘Go away,’ came a groggy voice. ‘She’s not in here, I’ve told you already.’

  ‘Can’t do that,’ said Max. ‘I’ve got something you need.’

  ‘Oh, it’s you. Thought it was that fucking lackey from Flight Com again. Door’s unlocked.’

  Max walked in, the light from outside framing his shadow and casting it long over the bed. The room smelled of sex and alcohol and he grinned.

  ‘Hey Grim.’

  ‘Morning boss.’ She was the second hump on the far side of the bed.

  ‘Glad you two are having fun. I’ve been shouted at by smelly scientists in an even smellier flesh tunnel all night. Just the evening I had planned.’

  Max closed the door and Risa Kullani flicked the low light on. She squinted at him and cast about for her tee-shirt as Max perched on the bed. Next to her, Grim was on the move too. She hopped out of bed and pulled on her sweats.

  ‘No need for you to go,’ said Kullani.

  ‘Well, I thought . ..’

  ‘Not on my account,’ said Max. ‘Besides, you might need to do this sometime.’

  Grim nodded. ‘Okay.’ She scrambled back on to the bed and sat behind Risa, legs straddling her and arms locking around the ailing pilot’s waist. She leant her head on Risa’s shoulder.

  ‘I should take a picture,’ said Max. ‘But it would make everyone cute puke.’

  ‘Just open Pandora’s box, will you?’ Kullani was trying to smile but couldn’t take her eyes from the plain package Max was holding.

  ‘It’s really simple,’ said Max, unclipping the fastenings and lifting the box lid off. ‘Thirty shots, one into the top of your thigh last thing every night. It’ll make you really hot for an hour or two afterwards; that’ll wear off before you have to report to the ERC or a briefing.’

  Max had been staring into the box, pointing at the phials and hypo. He looked up and both Risa and Grim had tears in their eyes.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ said Max. ‘This stuff’ll keep you flying forever.’

  As if by prearranged signal, they hugged him.

  ‘You’re an idiot Max,’ said Risa. ‘But I’m glad you’re our idiot.’

  ‘Hey, any time,’ said Max, enjoying the embrace, his imagination wandering a little. They seemed to sense that too and pushed him away. ‘Want to give it a go? A jab, I mean. Of the hypodermic.’

  Grim dissolved into laughter, falling backwards onto the bed, hooting as she tried to calm herself. Risa just shook her head.

  ‘There really is no better sight than a man digging an ever deeper hole for himself. Come on, hand it over. Grim, get a grip, you’re doing this for me. Can’t stand injections.’

  Grim snorted and gathered herself. Her nimble fingers quickly assembled hypo and phial. She spread her hands.

  ‘Pick a thigh.’

  ‘Left . .. no, right, no left.’

  ‘Holy arse,’ said Grim. She shifted Risa’s tee-shirt up a little, placed the hypo on her left thigh. ‘Ready?’

  Risa bit her lip and nodded. ‘The fight starts here.’

  Grim triggered the hypo. ‘No turning back now.’

  ‘It’s cold,’ said Risa.

  ‘Not for long,’ said Grim. ‘Come on, best you lie down again.’

  Grim plumped up a couple of pillows and Risa lay against them. Even in the dim light, Max could see her cheeks beginning to flush and sweat appear on her brow.

  ‘Wow,’ he said.

  ‘You should try being on this side of it.’ Kullani shifted in sudden discomfort. ‘Fuck.’

  ‘One day I will be.’

  Max had to force himself to stay while Risa’s body heated up and the pain intensified. She stripped off her sweat-soaked tee-shirt. Grim grabbed a towel, soaked it in cold water and mopped her down repeatedly, though it had precious little effect. Risa’s eyes were wide and frightened, her body shook and she writhed, contorted and gasped but she never once called out.

  Unsure what to do at first, Max soaked another towel and held it to her wrists and mopped her torso. He stared into her eyes, trying to give her something to focus on, and wished he hadn’t. Kullani was terrified, desperate for it to stop. The unfairness, the random nature of when the Fall struck, lit a sharp anger within him. Their commanders never saw this. Perhaps they should.

  ‘Keep looking at me, Risa. You’ll get through it and then we’ll fly again. Hold on to that. Hold on to me.’

  She shook the towel off her wrists and grabbed his hands, a horrible spasm wracking her body and drawing a moan from her slack mouth, from which hung lines of drool. Her nails dragged at his skin.

  His anger intensified. That she should be so desperate to get back in her drake she’d put herself through this. He wondered if command ever considered the human suffering at the end of the glory times of drake piloting. Of course they didn’t.

  It was more than an hour before Risa cooled off enough to lie still. Her breathing calmed to a more moderate and regular pace and she shuffled back under the covers. Even the fear in her eyes subsided.

  ‘That had better have been worth it,’ she managed, her voice dry and croaky.

  ‘It gets easier, doesn’t it?’ asked Grim, looking squarely at Max.

  ‘I don’t see why it should,’ said Kullani. ‘Thanks for sticking around, Max. Max?’

  Max stared at Kullani and all he could see was himself dialled forward a couple of years when the Fall began to sharpen its claws and rake at his mind.

  ‘I always assumed I would be okay. That it wouldn’t bother me. But now I’ve seen this shit first-hand, I’m not.’

  ‘Not what?’ asked Risa.

  ‘Okay with it. Not at all.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘This! Risa . .. it’s not right. This thing will destroy you. The price for flying shouldn’t be so high. There has to be another way.’

  ‘We all go through it,’ said Kullani quietly. ‘Think I first saw it about three months out too. First time facing the Fall and it’s no longer something you can dodge, is it? It stinks, but the only thing to do is get back in your drake and remind yourself what a fucking amazing gift it is.’

  ‘And then remember nothing when my brains start rotting.’ Max flushed and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Sorry, Risa, I didn’t—’

  ‘No sweat. They say you never forget the touch, though.’

  ‘Who says?’

  ‘The Fallen.’

  Max studied his lap and the box of heaters that leered up at him, representing inescapable pain and a haunted, miserable fate.

  ‘I should go,’ said Max, voice catching in his throat. ‘Try and get some sleep.’

  Kullani nodded. ‘Thank you, Max.’

  Max shrugged. ‘For what, putting you through all that? Hard to believe it’s worth it, you know?’

  ‘It’s worth it,’ said Kullani. ‘You’ll understand when your time comes.’

  Max pushed himself to his feet, feeling drained and hollow. ‘Try and get some sleep, eh?’

  ‘Don’t you dare fly without me, Halloran.’

  ‘Never without my wing.’

  When the door closed behind him, Max leant against the wall for a moment, his sighing breath reminding him he was tainted by the stench of the heater girls’ lab. He should shower but he honestly didn’t think he could stand for that length of time. Even the few paces to his pod looked an impossible distance.

  It was quiet. The squad rack was otherwise at peace and the movement of the HoG evidenced by the gentle vibrations through her body. Max forced himself along the corridor and into his pod. The light was on and Anna-Beth was waiting for him.

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ he said and fell into her embrace.

  ‘Let it out if you need to,’ she whispered.

  ‘There’d be no way back from there,’ he said, needing to distract himself and finding a way. ‘Thought you were on an early.’

  Anna-Beth gently loosened the embrace. ‘Not
now. All sorties are delayed. We’ve all been invited to an outpouring of nauseating bullshit from tomorrow at oh nine thirty.’ President Corsini via vid-link.

  ‘That would normally be terrible news,’ said Max. ‘How did she do?’

  ‘She was incredible. I was the wreck. Pathetic, really.’ Anna-Beth kissed him. ‘You were there for her, that’s what counts. Come on, come to bed.’ She began pulling his shirt up over his head. ‘Hmm, thought it was just your clothes that stank but it seems it’s your skin as well.’

  Max found himself laughing. ‘Sorry. I’ll go shower.’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot, I don’t care. Not tonight, anyway.’

  ‘She’s so strong you know? Risa, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, but you need to watch her.’

  ‘She’ll know when it’s time to stop,’ said Max.

  Anna-Beth’s face was sad. ‘That’s the trouble, she won’t.’

  Chapter 10

  We could combine alien and Terran DNA in every other Extra-Reptilian Construct but with the firedrake, every attempt failed, hence their keen minds. We have to balance the need for drake intelligence against that to protect the human mind in order to deliver an effective weapon. Every further move we make tips that balance in the drake’s favour.

  Professor Carl Aldus, Neurological science research lead, ERC Programme

  The theatre had originally been designed for live performances but its primary use was as a briefing hall for ground and air missions. Every one of the two thousand seats was taken. The Heart of Granite’s command team, along with Alexandra Solomon, were seated among the drake pilots, ground lizard jockeys, senior civil servant administrators and army officers. The remaining seats had been allocated to carefully selected marines.

  It made for a bright and noisy atmosphere which, along with the glaring ceiling lights, was most unwelcome for Max who needed another three or four hours in the sack. He kept Kullani in front of him and they were directed to the fifth row, centre block, right behind Flight Commander Moeller.

  Max swore under his breath. ‘Morning, sir.’

  Moeller turned his head fractionally and raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ll recall how I mentioned that nothing on this behemoth ever happens by accident?’