by J G Cressey
Jumper shot him a disgruntled look. “Not hotdogs. They’re terrine slices nestled in freshly baked herb baguette.”
Cal raised his hands. “Sure, sorry. I often get those confused. You mind?” he asked as he reached for one.
“Dig in; I can’t eat them all myself. But don’t let me catch any of you putting those squirty condiments on them.”
Viktor also accepted one of the treats and took an experimental nibble as Jumper looked out to sea. “So the shark barrier is breached?”
“Anti-shark field,” Viktor corrected with a nod. “Still, we’re a hell of a lot better off than the folks living in Callacean.”
His mouth stuffed with terrine slice, Cal shot the boy a questioning look.
“I’ve been hooked into the planet’s local net, hacked into a few systems too,” Viktor explained as he took another nibble. “Callacean’s city defenses have been kaput for a while now.” The boy paused to study the food in his hand with a look of appreciation. “This hotdog’s pretty great, Jumper.”
“Terrine slice.”
“Right, yeah.” Viktor shrugged. “So it seems some kind of giant cephalopod has set up home right on top of the city’s main dome. Kinda like a massive octopus, I think. Apparently, it’s big enough to almost cover it.”
Cal did his best not to choke on his mouthful. Callacean was a partially submerged city built upon the reefs of Aqualorian Prime’s Tropicca sector. He’d seen it once from the air en route to the planet’s capital, Aldular. “What are they doing about it?” he asked, having finally managed to swallow his mouthful.
Viktor shrugged. “Details are pretty thin. Doesn’t sound like they can get it off though.” The boy looked decidedly amused by the news.
“Sounds like they could use a bit of help,” Cal suggested, quickly latching onto the opportunity.
Jumper eyed him suspiciously and set his tray down on a nearby table. “What about our break? We agreed on a full week.”
“These few days have done me a world of good,” Cal lied. “Really they have. But it sounds as though these people need aid, and I think we should offer it.” And poke around for possible leads while we’re at it. “Besides, this creature sounds like something that has to be seen,” he added, suspecting that Jumper would find it hard to resist the sight of such a unique beast.
Viktor nodded his agreement. “Will only take us about an hour to get there. Also, I don’t fancy my chances at fixing the anti-shark field. And if you guys can’t go surfing…”
Jumper sighed and snatched a terrine slice for himself. “I suppose this creature does sound intriguing.”
I bloody knew it. Cal clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “Okay, so we’re agreed.”
“What about Toker though?” Viktor asked. “You think this cephalopod thing has teeth?”
Cal shrugged. “Probably just suckers I think… A beak maybe.”
“Hey, guys.”
They all turned to see Eddy shuffling toward them, looking solemn and kicking sand as she went. Shuffling right on past, she sat herself heavily at the base of a nearby palm and dug her feet forcefully into the soft sand.
“All okay, Eddy?” Cal asked tentatively.
Staring out to sea, she grunted an inaudible reply.
“So we’ve got ourselves a little project,” Cal ventured. “A little mission of sorts.”
“Is it off this bloody beach?” she asked, gouging the sole of her foot back and forth in the sand.
“Yes, at one of the planet’s cities. There’s a—”
“I’m in,” she interrupted. “If it puts an end to screwin’ about on this beach, then I’m in. Don’t care what it is.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Well, okay then.” Glad I’m not the only one.
Interrupting her excavating efforts, Eddy took a moment to glance moodily at them. Then, she did a sort of double take, her sour expression dropping away in a second. “Ah, bloody hell I’m hungry. Chuck us a hotdog, would you?”
Chapter 3 Callacean
Aqualorian Prime was a huge planet, large enough that many considered it the sibling of Alvor. Unlike Alvor, however, its surface was almost entirely covered by ocean, the only landmass consisting of millions of tiny islands that poked valiantly above the vast seas. Despite having spent some time in the floating capital, Aldular, Cal had yet to visit Callacean, and after all the positive things he’d heard, he was feeling increasingly glad to be remedying that.
From this height, the reefs of the Tropicca sector looked spectacular. A vast, intricate maze of coral immersed in the vibrant expanse of varying blues and merging greens. In the Star Splinter’s piloting chair, Cal decreased their altitude and tried to get a visual lock on the city. The waters below were incredibly clear and in places barely covered the reef. Marine life of vastly contrasting sizes could be seen, all in constant motion as they prowled their domains, some swift and darting, others slow and marauding.
“There,” Eddy said, jabbing a finger at the cockpit window. “What’s that? Is that it?”
Cal peered in the direction she indicated and double checked the readouts. “That’s it: Callacean. Well spotted, Eddy,” he said, turning a little to starboard and reducing their altitude further. Already the girl was in a much better mood since leaving the beach—possibly as a result of the five terrine slices she’d consumed.
“That’s quite a sight,” Jumper said, leaning forward as Callacean grew larger.
Cal had to agree. The city was a gleaming spiderweb of silver and brass-colored metal, most of which glimmered just beneath the surface of the water. There were a multitude of dome-shaped habitations, all interconnected by an expansive network of tubular structures, some of which stretched far across the reef until they disappeared off its edge, falling into dark patches of deep blue sea. As spectacular as Callacean was, however, it fell well short of dominating their awe. That prize was awarded to the uninvited visitor settled upon the city’s central dome.
Despite the huge scale of the dome, little of it could be seen under the monstrous mass of grey, mottled flesh that glistened brightly in the late morning sun. The beast was colossal, large enough to seem an impossible trick on the eye. Cal counted eight tentacles that clung and twisted their way around other parts of the city, each hundreds of meters in length. At first glance, the creature appeared unmoving, but as the Star Splinter neared, a slight rise and fall in the main body of its bulk could be seen as well as the occasional ripple along its vast limbs.
“Oh man, how the hell does something get that big without teeth?” Toker asked, unable to take his eyes off the sight. “It really just lives off algae, Cal?”
Cal nodded and gave a little extra attention to his flight controls. “That’s what I heard.”
“It must have to eat a shitload, eh?”
Cal made a vague, noncommittal noise in reply. In truth, he didn’t have a clue.
“You want me to try and make contact?” Viktor asked from the rear of the cockpit.
“Thanks, Viktor,” Cal said, reducing their altitude a little more.
“You don’t think those big tentacles might cause us a problem?” Toker asked. “Snatch us out of the air or something?”
“I doubt it’ll pay us any attention,” Cal replied confidently. But he slowed their approach just to be on the safe side.
“They’ve answered,” Viktor called out after some moments. “Permission to dock granted. But they seem a bit surprised that we want to visit.”
“No shit,” Toker muttered.
“They suggest submerging and entering using the northern port,” Viktor continued. “Apparently, the tentacles can be a bit of a problem on the topside docks.”
“No shit,” Toker muttered again.
The Star Splinter cut through the crystal clear water with elegant ease. Cal had purposely entered the water some distance from the city in order to traverse some of the spectacular reefs and demonstrate the Star Splinter’s aquatic capabilities. In short, he wanted to
show off. Relying on the scanners to guide him to the city, he maneuvered through an endless maze of coral, each corner revealing such a vibrant spectrum of color to make it seem a surreal dreamworld. With practiced grace, he twisted the ship around huge pillars, dipped under overhangs, and even spun through the odd hole.
“Nice run,” Toker said as Cal finally neared the city and reduced speed. “Mind if I have a go when we leave?”
Cal shot him a quick grin. “Thought you might want a turn.”
The first bundle of submerged habitations soon came into view, nestled neatly within a wide shelf of the reef. There was an elegance to their design, but Cal suspected they could withstand the harshest of oceans in the foulest of moods. All the interiors were well lit, and within the majority of them, people could be seen moving about.
Eddy climbed out of her seat and peered intently out of the cockpit window. “People really live in them?”
“Of course they live in them,” Toker answered. “And damn plush they are too.”
“How would you know?”
With one foot resting on his knee, Toker casually brushed some dried sand off the sole of his boot. “Used to vacation here when I was a little kid. My folks had an apartment for a bit. My dad was mad about fish.”
“Must have been nice,” Cal said as he guided the Star Splinter through a large opening that gaped like the mouth of some huge, mechanical sea creature.
“Yeah, it was,” Toker replied, seeming lost to the memory of it. “That’s why Mike got a job here. We both loved this planet as kids. It’s where I first learned to surf.”
Eddy slumped back heavily in her chair, snapping Toker out of his reverie. “You really were a rich git, weren’t you.”
Toker nodded. “Yeah. I guess I was.”
As they surfaced within the internal dock, Cal noted that not one speck of rust could be seen nor algae buildup. It was certainly an affluent, well-preserved city. There were the occasional crusty salt lines, but even those seemed suspiciously neat as if manicured into sharp lines and pleasing shapes.
Once they were further in, Cal found himself whistling with admiration. “What a collection,” he said as he maneuvered into one of many docking bays and peered around at the multitude of ships. Some were half the size of the Star Splinter, some twice its size, but every single one was among the most expensive on the market. Not a top-of-the-range combat ship like the Star Splinter but damn pricy nonetheless. “Well, our ship certainly won’t be out of place here.”
Jumper turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. “Perhaps not. But I’ve a feeling we might be.”
Cal pulled at his t-shirt and looked down to assess the salt stains. “Well, they’ll just have to put up with it,” he said with a shrug. “I’m certain this is about as smart as any of us get.”
Following Jumper, Cal popped his head up through the Star Splinter’s central top hatch and breathed in a lungful of warm, salty air. Due to the aquatic nature of the port, the ship remained half submerged. Looking up, he saw a high, domed ceiling, the shiny, brass-colored surface of which reflected the light of the gently dancing water. The port was very large, a few hundred jetties lining its circumference like the second markers on a clock face. Set within the coral below, powerful lights shone up through the water, giving the space a lagoon-like feel.
“How many in your party?” The voice was that of neatly uniformed man who stood needle straight on the jetty below. He wore an ornate, slimline pistol at his hip and was looking up expectantly, a data tablet tight in his grip. Two others in similar garb were standing behind him. “I’ll also need to know your genders and ages… Hurry it along if you please.”
“They could at least wait until we’ve all climbed out of the ship,” Jumper said as he reached down and gave Cal a hand up.
“They do seem a bit tetchy,” Cal agreed. “In a polite sort of a way.”
Once the whole gang had their feet firmly planted on the jetty’s floor, the man armed with the datapad looked them up and down for some moments. Cal inspected him right back. He had the look of a man who’d been rigorously trained to guard rich people from unsightly and unpredictable commoners. The two men behind him could barely be considered men at all—more like boys dressed as men. One of them had a slight tremble in his hands that was seen often in those who knew they were uninitiated. In contrast, the other wore a cocky expression seen just as often in those who remained stubbornly ignorant of the fact they were uninitiated.
“So this is us,” Cal said casually, briefly spreading his arms wide. “You still need help figuring out genders and numbers?”
The man ignored the comment and began entering details on his datapad.
“They look armed, sir,” the cocky uninitiated said.
The older man looked back at him sharply. “Speak up only after being addressed, Peterson. I won’t tell you again.”
Peterson gave a slight shrug, the sharp tone of his superior doing little to diminish his cocksure expression.
Lowering his datapad, the man looked back to Cal with a slight grimace. “I’m Captain Stevenson, head of security within Callacean’s Northern Sector. I’m here to assess you and to inform you that no weapons are permitted within the city.” The captain allowed them a few seconds to absorb the information before continuing. “You can hand them over to us for secure storage, or I’ll allow you to leave them on your ship. Be aware, however, that this dock remains in lockdown at all times, so you’ll need permission to gain access, and even then, you’ll be escorted at all times.”
Cal looked past the captain to see a fairly heavily guarded checkpoint in the distance that was undoubtedly the entrance to the city. “To be honest, Captain, our last few colony visits have turned out to be less than welcoming. We’d feel safer if we were armed.” Cal gave him a wry smile. “We promise not to shoot anyone…not unless they absolutely deserve it.”
The captain’s brow creased at that. Cal didn’t blame him—the comment had only been half in jest.
“You won’t find trouble here unless you initiate it yourselves,” the captain informed confidently. “This isn’t some backworld colony or scrapper’s station. Our clientele are of a certain calibre.”
“He’s right, Cal,” Toker said. “The worst trouble you’ll see here is an argument over which species of lobster is most pleasing to the palette.”
“Mature golden lobster from Lacroceant’s southern oceans,” Jumper said without hesitation. “Cooked lightly with a few choice herbs. They try serving me anything else, and I’ll certainly be requiring my gun.”
Ignoring the chatter, Stevenson nodded to the deck. “Lay your weapons out in front of you, and empty your pockets.” He turned to the more nervous of his two young lackeys. “Jacobs, scan our new guests. We wouldn’t want any of them to forget about concealed weapons.”
“Yes, sir,” Jacobs blurted. He stepped forward a little unsteadily as if his legs were entirely new to him, and a tremble in his hands made for a clumsy extraction of the scanner from his utility belt. Tentatively, he approached Cal and pointed it at him.
Taking pity on the nervous young man, Cal twirled his finger to indicate that he was holding the device back to front. Then he slowly unholstered his blaster and carefully placed it on the ground before doing the same with the knife from his boot.
“Er, pockets…empty your pockets too,” Jacobs said, attempting an authoritative tone but achieving the exact opposite.
Cal pulled a small, silicon-coated device from the pocket of his combat pants and held it out on his open palm. “This is it,” he said in reply to the distrustful look on the young man’s face. “I prefer to travel light.”
Jacobs directed his scanner at it.
“I doubt you scanner will think much of it,” Cal said, surprised that a kid who resided in such a city didn’t seem to have a clue what it was. “I like to keep a gum breather on me when I’m around water,” Cal explained. “You mind if I hold onto it? You never know when an unexpected dip might
occur.”
Jacobs looked back to the captain, who gave a small nod.
The young man replicated the nod at Cal then turned to Jumper. After a brief glance at Jumper’s bliss rifle and combat knife—which had already been laid out on the deck—the young man carefully swept the scanner from head to toe. Without waiting for instructions, Jumper pulled two spare bliss mags from his pockets as well as a rolled up material pouch.
“What’s in the pouch?”
“Meds,” Jumper lied without hesitation. Releasing its clip, the pouch unfurled to reveal a line of glass syringes, each containing a green liquid so bright it almost seemed to glow. “I have a liver condition. I need to take one of these every three hours to keep it under control.” On seeing suspicious looks, most notably from Captain Stevenson, Jumper glanced at the datapad on his wrist. “I need to take one in twenty-eight minutes. If you want to hold on here to observe…?”
Stevenson shook his head. “Is it contagious, this condition?”
“Absolutely not,” Jumper replied, sounding affronted. “…Genetic.”
“Okay,” Stevenson said with a raised hand. “Just be sure to inject it discreetly; I don’t want you distressing any of our sensitive clientele.”
Jumper nodded appreciatively and rolled up the pouch to tuck it back in his jacket. Cal was glad to see it. After a couple of violent mishaps during the past few months, Jumper had taken it upon himself to ensure they always had a small stash of the Xcel serum wherever they went. Whether they were fighting or running away, the boosting serum usually tipped the scales in their favor.
Even without a fresh dose of the Xcel, however, a mild form of its effects had started to prove ever present. Kaia had suggested it might change them over time, possibly a permanent change, and it seemed she’d been right. The change had come subtly, so much so that none of them had been aware of it at first, but in time, they’d found themselves making comments to each other—a building awareness of their ability to run that bit faster, jump that bit further and, in Eddy’s case, break things that bit easier. They’d even started to shoot with increasing accuracy, and they rarely fell ill. Cal remembered the look on Kaia’s face when she’d first handed him one of the little syringes. She’d endeavored to settle his nerves by assuring him that there was nothing his body would benefit from more. She’d been right about that too, more than he could have dreamed possible.
