Heart of Granite

by James Barclay

  ‘Yeah, it’s a great side effect of our agonisin’ deaths, ain’t it? So much experimentation and all measured through here.’ Leitch turned his head and pushed some of his remaining hair aside to reveal a chip embedded in the base of his skull behind his right ear.

  Max frowned. ‘And they’ve been doing this the whole war?’

  ‘Suppose,’ said Leitch, his shrug more of a shudder.

  ‘So what are they doing with all the data? I mean unless I’m missing something, any research has led to absolutely fuck all legal treatment so far.’ As soon as he said it, Max sucked in a quick breath. ‘Bloody hell.’

  Leitch was staring at him, his eyes dancing in their sockets as he tried to maintain concentration. ‘You got clarity, brother?’

  ‘Yeah . .. just something someone said to me.’ Max tried to recall everything Krystyna and the heater girls had told him. It all fitted together. ‘The black market drug makers and the ERC are colluding.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Leitch, his eyes steadying. ‘There’s more to all this than they’ll ever let on, I reckon. Makes me wonder what really landed you in here. Got too close to somethin’, didn’t you?’

  ‘They lied about our latest sentience upgrade, risking every pilot on my squad. I found out the truth. If that upgrade goes to every squad it’ll be three to a bed in here.’

  ‘Holy fuck.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Max got up.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I need to think. Decide if I believe everything you’ve told me.’

  ‘I feel sorry for you, Max. You’ll never experience the real joy . .. you’ll never really become a pilot.’

  ‘What are you on about?’

  Leitch’s expression was almost happiness.

  ‘There’s this moment, the breakthrough . . . when the voice in your head makes sense. It’s the day the fear lifts and you realise the heaters might have checked your symptoms but didn’ slow the change and actually, that’s jus’ fine. That whoever invented heaters knew exactly what they were doin’ and that if you and your drake could only escape, you could become somethin’ greater than you ever imagined.’

  ‘I have to get out of here,’ said Max.

  Max lay in his bed and stared at the images of drakes on the ceiling. He had no idea what time of day it was and that was unsettling for a military man for whom time and routine were everything. Well, routine, anyway; he’d never been that great with time.

  A little while later, a medic came through the ward, dishing out food and drugs which those who were conscious had taken dutifully.

  ‘No point in not,’ Leitch said, grimly. ‘Or they knock you out and give you ’em anyways.’

  ‘Do the pills help?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Leitch said and then turned his attention to the medic. ‘You know there’s nothin’ wrong with him, right?’

  The medic said nothing but paused fractionally as he administered an injection to one of the more advanced cases.

  ‘Come on, Barney, you’re a proper human. Not like some of the twats you work with. Can you really let a fit man get ruined? I’m tellin’ you, you’ll never sleep properly again.’

  Barney’s big frame stiffened and his friendly brown eyes flicked to Max. He gave Max a long look before moving on, his movements less assured. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  Max refused food and drink, mistrustful of what they might be concealing, and when Barney left, he wandered around his new home instead. It was impressive, he gave it that. There were places to sit in peace among plants and water features; a small library; a vid screen and film library; hydrotherapy pool; a music room and three well-appointed single rooms. They were all occupied and Max realised they were also fully soundproofed. The glimpse he got of the inmates was profoundly depressing.

  Max’s bed seemed the safest place to stay, though he guarded himself against sleep. He monitored the quiet whirring of cameras moving and zooming in and out, trying to gauge if there was a pattern. He noted the passage of medics in and out, sometimes with guards, more often without. He was hungry and thirsty and he used the discomfort to keep him sharp as he did on a long return leg from a sortie.

  The moment he thought about the joy of flying, and that it would be denied him forever, despair hit him like falling rock. It crushed him and his calm and focus. His future was gone– he’d be forced to endure being killed slowly and painfully in the name of research.

  ‘Get it now, don’t you, Max?’ said Diana from the gloom.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Max. ‘I get it. I have got to get out of here. Put all this straight for all of us.’

  ‘That’s just a dream,’ said Diana.

  ‘I don’t dream, I do. I’m Max fucking Halloran.’

  It was probably the first time real laughter had been heard in Landfill.

  Valera had forbidden all talk of Max during the sortie. Closed squad com or not, if the brass really wanted to listen in, they could. She’d issued a no-deviation standard landing procedure order but had felt the weight of discontent. God knew she wanted to make a statement too but now was not the time.

  Once they were all showered, their suits washed and hung and their energy drinks and pills downed, they gathered in the squad room with the HoG’s com disabled and the whole dorm swept for bugs. It was useful to have an electro-head like Calder on the squad sometimes.

  ‘You’re wasted as a pilot,’ said Gurney.

  ‘You’re so right,’ said Calder. ‘I often dream of building my own super-robot so I can crush your puny lizards and mince your skulls inside the scaly remains.’

  ‘You’re a freak,’ said Redfearn.

  ‘And you are right to fear me, mortal.’

  ‘Let’s get to it,’ said Valera. ‘Moan away and then I’ll tell you why everything I did was right and everything you wanted to do was wrong.’

  ‘We should have made a statement on the flight deck,’ said Kullani. ‘Lined up in front of Martha’s pen and stared until the gallery fell down. Something to let them know we won’t accept this.’

  ‘We should have refused to fly without him,’ said Stepanek. ‘He stood up for us and we have to support him.’

  ‘Stepanek’s right,’ said Gurney. ‘Flying without Max is wrong.’

  ‘We don’t even know where he is,’ said Redfearn.

  ‘It stinks, Skipper and we’re doing nothing,’ said Monteith.

  Valera heard them all out before she spoke.

  ‘I’m as angry as you are but we have to be careful. I love your idea, Risa but all it does is draw unwanted attention. Stepanek, if we strike they can hit us with insubordination, and then we can’t help Max. Reds, I agree: we have to know what we’re up against. We know Moeller took a data dump from the pen today; that’s the first step to grounding him and reengineering Martha. I hope it’s just a threat.’

  She paused to consider her next words. ‘Look, I’m in a horrible place here and if I haven’t misjudged him, Moeller’s in a worse one. However fucked up it seems to be, we have to respect the chain of command. Max is wherever the hell he is because he didn’t. While we should never over-estimate our importance, we are InfernoX. If the Exec won’t give us Max back, we’ll leak everything we know and let the backlash do the job for us.’

  Valera stopped talking at a sharp hand gesture from Salewski who was positioned closest to the dorm door.

  ‘Got a visitor,’ he said.

  There was a decisive rap on the door, and Valera nodded to Salewski to let whoever it was in. It was relief that quickly became concern when they saw Grim’s face.

  ‘It’s Max,’ she said. ‘They’ve put him in Landfill.’

  The silence was complete enough that they could hear the Heart of Granite breathe.

  ‘They’ve fucking what?’ growled Stepanek.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Valera, feeling cold all over. Grim nodded. ‘A mate up in medical saw them taking him in. There’s nothing to stop them now, is there? They could take Martha and leave Max to
rot. What’s going on, Skipper?’

  ‘Right.’ Valera stood up. ‘This is a clear breach of crew rights, detention regulations, and charge protocol – and I can take it to the ExO. I’m sure he’ll be expecting me.’

  ‘Want some back up?’ asked Stepanek. ‘I mean, he’s dumped one of us in there . ..’

  Valera nodded into the calls of support for Stepanek’s idea. ‘Witnesses are a good idea. Monts, Palant, Calder, Gurney, you’re with me. Stepanek, you’re in charge in my absence. Sit tight and don’t say a word about Max until I find out why the hell he’s in there in the first place and I shudder to think of the lie I’m about to be told. Grim, give Martha the most detailed brushing and cleaning she’s ever had. Keep her fed too, know what I mean?’

  ‘Sure thing, Skipper,’ said Grim.

  ‘Reds, Xavier . . . probably time you had one-to-ones with your flight crew, make sure they keep eyes on Martha too, okay?’

  ‘Any of you wondering if there’s more to the Marshal Gen’s visit than meets the eye?’ asked Nevant.

  ‘Could be a coincidence,’ said Palant.

  ‘I’m a drake pilot,’ said Valera. ‘I don’t do coincidences.

  Chapter 20

  When criticised about the way countries were invited to join United Europa, the first President Elect, Maria Deschamps, was reported as saying; ‘We were fair, and we offered them a choice: join on our terms or be invaded.’ I’d love that to be true.

  Alexandra Solomon, Marshal General, United Europe Joint Forces.

  The door to Kirby’s quarters was open and he was behind his desk when Valera walked in. He nodded as if he’d been expecting her and gestured her to the seat in front of his desk. She shook her head curtly.

  ‘Close the door behind you, at least,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve got some of my squad out there. I want them to hear us.’

  Kirby shrugged. ‘Bring them in.’

  Valera waved her people in and they arranged themselves around the wall, Calder closing the door behind her.

  ‘I won’t tolerate interruptions,’ said Kirby. ‘Only Orin speaks. Squadron Leader, when you’re ready.’

  ‘First of all, I accept that Max was out of line to come to you.’

  ‘Out of line does not scratch the surface of his insubordination or his unfounded accusations. It did illustrate his state of mind, though.’

  Valera paused, wondering what Kirby meant by that last statement. ‘Nonetheless, Max Halloran is being held in La— the Chronic Neural Trauma ward, which is not a designated detention area for non-medical cases. It breaches seven articles of Halloran’s rights to counsel, pre-hearing visits and living conditions. He must be released from the ward immediately.’

  For a moment, Valera thought Kirby was going to applaud her. ‘Your grasp of regulations is second to none.’

  ‘It’s always an advantage to be well-informed. Release my pilot, sir.’

  ‘And that’s why I always am.’ He tapped his screen twice and Valera’s p-palm beeped an incoming message. ‘Max Halloran is in Landfill because he’s going through the Fall.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  The trio behind her gasped and Kirby fired a warning glance in their direction.

  ‘Read the tech debrief. It includes vids of Halloran. Perhaps you’d like to see them now?’

  Kirby turned his screen and tapped an icon to show two short clips. One was of Max in tears, staring into space, another was of him clutching his head and shouting, though there was no audio.

  ‘These are out of context, sir. I’d shout and scream too, if I were in there for no reason. If you maintain he’s going through the Fall then I demand a retest, which I will attend.’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh, Orin. We both know what any retest will reveal.’

  Valera dug her nails into her palms. ‘Are you implying, in front of these witnesses that the result is predetermined?’

  Kirby leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m implying nothing of the kind. But tread carefully. Your new upgrade has thrown up some very interesting data. Makes a few of you borderline cases already.’

  Valera waved a hand at her pilots for quiet while fighting for control herself.

  ‘Please don’t threaten us, sir. You may not place a pilot in Landfill without following the proper legal procedures; hence I will be bringing charges against you for these breaches. I will be taking this matter to higher authorities as a matter of extreme urgency.’

  Kirby shrugged. ‘Go ahead, Orin. You have the file. I’ll even set up appointments for you. Who would you like to see? Avery? Solomon? It won’t help – whatever you think you know about the upgrade and its mind-shielding issues, it will not become ship-wide knowledge. It will roll out to other squads. Don’t risk ending up like Halloran.’

  Valera shook her head and hoped Calder’s device was recording the whole conversation. ‘This is only the start. I’m getting Max back, and I’m coming for you unless you come clean about the mindshielding you promised us.’

  ‘There are some things you should understand,’ said Kirby, unfazed by Valera’s charges. ‘Drake pilots are the most talented of the lower ranks and you have tough contracts, but ultimately you have no real power or influence. You are military personnel and you will follow orders or be suspended for insubordination. Get back to your pit, Orin. You can file your charges from there. They will be given full consideration in due course. Inferno-X is confined to quarters and on coms lockdown until the attack on the Maputo. Dismissed.’

  The lights were up, the fountains were on and the piped music was playing. The Heart of Granitewas moving so the day’s sorties hadn’t begun yet. It was most likely still early because the Granitedidn’t travel too much in the heat of the day, preferring night-travel despite the chill making the beast a little sluggish of mind. Heart of Granite command could then let her bask, with her solar panels glittering and outer armour retracted, when the sun was high.

  Max yearned to be with his squad, it was another punch to his bruised spirit. He still hadn’t eaten but he’d drunk from the fountain. It was stale and recycled but probably free of drugs, and he was in a recliner in the garden sifting through potential escape plans when Leitch’s coughing alerted him to a visitor.

  Max had been wrestling with the problem of the only door out. Whenever it was open, it was guarded by at least two orderlies, often three. Three was too many for Max to both surprise and take down; two was marginal at best. He’d dismissed taking a medic hostage. His only realistic chance was to rush the guards and get clear, which was insanely risky, or plead with Barney who was the most likely candidate to give him some help. The trouble was, Landfill was for sick and desperate pilots. No doubt there had been escape attempts before.

  Max was expecting the visitor to be a medic but the harsh voice demanding his whereabouts told him it was Hewitt, no doubt come to crow. Kirby’s toe-rag sauntered in flanked by Mips. He fingered plant leaves and dipped his fingers in the fountain pool, shaking them extravagantly when he removed them and scattering drips everywhere. He smelled his fingers.

  ‘I wouldn’t drink that. It stinks,’ he s aid, walking over towards Max. ‘Still, desperate times and all that.’

  ‘Anything you wouldn’t do is automatically a good thing,’ said Max, putting his hands behind his head. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Hewitt, take the weight off all that bruising.’

  ‘You’re not looking so pretty yourself,’ said Hewitt, remaining standing.

  ‘You punch like a child,’ said Max. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Just checking you’re enjoying your new home and making friends, not that they’ll remember your name for too long. Mind you, neither will you.’

  ‘Fuck off, Hewitt, I’m busy.’ Max’s brain was wired with Hewitt’s words and his pulse raced. Bloody hell.

  ‘So I can see. I also have some news.’

  Max shrugged.

  ‘Time’s almost up, Halloran. We’re just a couple of signatures away from re-engineering your
drake. “Martha”, isn’t it? How sweet that you named her. Soon she’ll be a blank brain and so much malleable muscle for a new pilot.’

  Max clung to his calm. ‘And you think that will anger me? You need Martha for a new pilot. Make sure it’s someone worthy of her scales.’

  ‘It’s tough, you know? Without the proper medical withdrawal process, when we wipe your scaly girlfriend, your brain will suffer enough trauma to kick you into terminal decay. Hard way to go.’

  Max smiled and met Hewitt’s eyes for the first time.

  ‘I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to come and find you.’

  Hewitt curled his lip. ‘You still haven’t grasped it, have you, Max? You’re in here. You’re already dead. Maybe this will help you understand – it’ll be in everyone’s inbox in a couple of days. It’s rather good, I think.’

  Hewitt took a square of paper from his thigh pocket, unfolded it and laid it on Max’s chest.

  ‘Perhaps someone can help you with the big words.’

  ‘You get funnier every day.’ Max picked up the paper and his sneer fell from his face. Hewitt was already halfway towards the door as Max let the paper drop. He didn’t need to read past the headline.

  Top pilot in Fall shock– Tragically early exit for call sign Hal-X, the finest ever Inferno jock— An obituary by Squadron Leader, Valera Orin

  Standard procedure, he knew but it struck him hard.

  ‘I will not die in here,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t forget me, Skipper.’

  Valera led the team back towards the squad dorm. The pace of events was cranking up and one slip now could mean Max and Martha were lost forever.

  ‘Reds, get everyone back to the squad rack. Calder, clean up that recording and hide copies absolutely bloody everywhere. I’ll join you shortly – I need to see Moeller. And none of you say a word to anyone about anything, got it?’

  At the base of the neck, Valera headed towards Flight Command, dropping down through the decks to enter the flight deck area as publicly as possible. Kirby would assume she’d try and see Moeller and she’d hate to disappoint the ExO. She walked across the centre of flight deck alpha, climbing the stairs to Flight Command. Even from a distance, she could see Moeller’s office was empty.