by J G Cressey
“Sure sure, I understand. I’ve been on guard duty myself a fair bit. Not easy, especially when you have to deal with big, bearded, crazy men, eh?” Cal chuckled but pulled short of slapping the man on the arm.
The young guard shook his head. “Jim’s not so bad. He’s a good guy really. Just highly strung.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I hope you’re right; he’s my first assignment…after I pick up my uniform, that is.”
The guard’s brow furrowed. “You taking him to the brig?”
“No no, the chief just asked me to go and talk to him. Hear him out. Try and calm him down a little. Doesn’t want him causing hysteria among the residents.”
The guard nodded, looking relieved.
“Hope I do a good job…first impressions with the boss an’ all that,” Cal said, shooting his own nervous glance at the door. “The bugger of it is, though, I think I’ve gone and screwed up already.”
The guard grimaced.
“Yeah,” Cal confirmed with a shrug. “Nothing major or anything, but I’ll be damned if I can remember where Jim’s quarters are. Feel a bit of an idiot, to be honest.” Cal paused expectantly, but the guard just blinked at him. “Well, I guess I better go back in and ask,” he said, moving toward the door. “Wish me luck—”
The guard took hold of his arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The boss doesn’t react well to that sort of thing.” He rubbed at his chin nervously for a moment before giving Cal a tight smile. “Jim Douglas lives down in the Western Trench Section, apartment 38B.”
“38B,” Cal repeated, his smile a little more genuine. “Thanks very much; I guess I owe you one.”
Chapter 5 Jim Douglas
“How deep d’you reckon we’re goin’?”
“Not sure, Eddy,” Cal replied as he glanced through the elevator’s round viewing port. “Judging by how dark the water’s getting—”
“About five hundred feet,” Toker said.
“How d’you know?” Eddy asked, turning her scrunched up expression on him.
Toker shrugged. “My dad wanted one of these trench apartments. Obsessed with them, he was.”
“Did he get one?” Jumper asked.
“Nah. My mum said no. My mum was kinda the boss. It was hard enough persuading her to settle for one of the apartments up top. Said she didn’t trust the city’s defenses against the monsters of the deep.” Toker gave a little laugh and grinned. “My mum was an insightful lady… Just like me, she was.”
“Yes, you’re quite the lady,” Eddy mumbled.
Finally, the elevator slowed, and they all shifted forward to peer through the view port. There was a narrow ledge of rock then nothing could be seen but dark blue depths.
“We’re sitting right on the edge of the Marcos Trench,” Toker explained. “Drop off that shelf and you’ll keep sinking ’til you die of old age. Can’t recall exactly how deep, but I remember hearing that no subs have explored the bottom.”
“They can’t take the pressure?” Cal asked surprised.
“They can, but none have ever returned. Word has it that there’s some pretty nasty beasts down there, way worse than that big thing sitting on the main dome.”
Cal suspected that his young friend was messing with them—Toker wouldn’t have even agreed to set foot on the planet if he truly believed what he was saying. Still, as he peered down into the dark blue, Cal could have sworn he saw something just that little bit darker moving slowly through the murk. “Right then, let’s make this brief.”
“Jim Douglas?”
The big, bearded man thankfully looked a good deal calmer than when they’d first seen him. In fact, he looked decidedly weary and confused as he stared at the odd bunch crowded at his doorway.
“You have the advantage of me.”
“Callum Harper,” Cal said before introducing the rest of the gang. The introductions did little to extinguish the man’s bemusement. “We’re sorry to descend on you like this, so to speak, but we wondered if we might ask you a few questions?”
“About…?”
Cal rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “About you shouting that we’re all going to die.”
Douglas clenched his jaw, looking a touch regretful. “You heard that, did you? My apologies for the outburst. My blood was up.”
“I’m sure with good reason,” Cal said. “I suspect we might share some concerns for the wellbeing of this city.”
The man gave them a tired nod and stepped aside. “You better come in.”
Once inside, the large door slid shut behind them with an overly complex flourish of rotating disks that culminated with a hiss of waterproof seals. The apartment they were faced with made for an impressive sight: a long room that ended with the bottom half of a large, glass dome that offered the same dark blue scene they’d witnessed in the tube-lift. Cal guessed that the top half of the dome acted as a window for the level above, which was reached via an ornate, winding staircase to their right.
The majority of the apartment’s contents looked as though they’d been pulled from a time capsule. Framed nautical maps lined the walls above rows of busy shelving. There were ancient-looking texts and beautifully crafted devices that could easily have sat in the callused palms of sea captains of old, those who’d roamed the seas when ships were nothing but wood and iron. There was even an old diving suit at the room’s far end complete with rusted cuffs, withered tubing, and scratched glass plating that looked almost worn through.
In the very center of the apartment stood a huge wooden desk, the odd angle of which suggested it had been dragged there. Its surface was bestrewn with technology—some modern and some far from it. Laying open on the floor were three hover cases crafted in the style of old, leather travel trunks. Two of the cases were full, and the third was halfway there. “I can’t give you long, I’m afraid,” Douglas said as he plucked a number of items off the desk and knelt down to place them in the empty case.
“You’re leaving?” Cal asked.
Douglas nodded. “As soon as I can. I’ve already sent my wife and kids to Aldular, and it’s past time I joined them.” He stood and fixed them with a stare. “And if you have any sense, you’ll leave too. All of you.”
“Do you mind if we ask a few questions first?”
Douglas turned back to his desk and carefully began sliding some very fragile-looking paper charts into protective tubes. “Fire away.”
Cal voiced his thanks and moved further into the room with Jumper and Toker by his side. Eddy, Viktor, and Melinda drifted toward the kitchen. “So what’s with the big beast sitting on top of your city?” he asked, thinking it best to ease into the subject of pirates.
Douglas paused in his packing and briefly turned at that. “You’re new here?”
“Yes. Arrived twenty minutes ago.”
“On a ship? A flying ship?”
“Yes, a Star Splinter.”
“And he let you dock without question?”
“He?”
“That idiot in charge, Fincher. He didn’t warn you or try to bar you from docking?”
“Ah, the prick,” Cal replied. “On the contrary, he seemed keen to employ us.”
“Keen is possibly a bit strong,” Jumper mumbled.
With a sigh, Douglas plucked a wooden pipe from amid the clutter on his desk and carefully inspected its contents. “The big beast, as you so aptly describe it, is known as a Kratanu. A female, approximately average in size according to the limited records we have.” Sparking up the pipe with an old flame lighter, he took a long pull and blew a plume of white, oaky smelling smoke into the room. “It ascended from this very trench,” he said, indicating the thick, curved glass at the end of the room. “One tentacle passed right over my dome. My children loved it, but it scared the wits out of my wife.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” Jumper observed.
“I’m a marine biologist. Or at least I was. More of a consultant now.”
“Has this happened before?” Cal ask
ed.
“Oh no,” Douglas said with certainty. “But it would have, of course, had the city not been designed with defenses to prevent such things.”
“And now the defenses are down?”
Douglas nodded. “Indeed they are. Most living in this city have no idea of the frequency that creatures from the depths are discouraged by the defenses. If they knew, I doubt many of them would have bought here in the first place. The Kratanu arrived twelve days ago. Pretty damned unfortunate timing, all considered.” Seeming a little lost in his own thoughts, Douglas chewed on the end of his pipe for a moment before taking another long pull.
“So I’m assuming there was a lack of spare parts to keep the defenses running?” Cal guessed, starting to prod a little deeper.
“You assume wrong, Mr. Harper. Fincher, or the prick as you so aptly labeled him, is a prize-winning fool, but he’s an organized fool. He had spare parts, raw materials, and capable printers to keep the city in good working order for generations.”
“Had?”
“Yes, had. Right up until the pirates took them.”
Cal’s heart instantly began to thud. He had a feeling he’d be hearing those words, but they made him tense with anticipation nonetheless. “There were pirates here?”
“Indeed there were. I saw them myself. An organized group, and a lot calmer that I’d have predicted. They all but ignored the citizens, none of that raping that you hear about in stories. And whatever pillaging they did was very selective. They wasted no time, went straight for the heart.”
Organized and selective. It wasn’t the first time Cal had heard those words in relation to pirates of late. It was worrying. Such words would never have been used in conjunction to their methods during his military days. “They went for the technology?”
Douglas pointed at him with the tip of his pipe. “Exactly right. They know where the worth lies in this crumbling civilization of ours…far more so than many of the over-privileged cuckoos in this city. Most of them turn a blind eye to anything that upsets their rich little existence. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a breakdown in interstellar communications or a giant cephalopod nesting on top of their city, their reaction is still the same: There isn’t one. Don’t get me wrong; there were some very smart, sensible people residing in this city, but half of them left after the pirate attack, then the other half fled on sighting the first Kratanu tentacle.”
“When did they attack?” Cal asked. “The pirates, I mean.”
“Three months ago. Almost to the day.”
“Can you describe the attack?”
Douglas took a moment to study Cal whilst taking another pull on his pipe. “I was with Fincher and his men when they arrived. Not much of an attack, truth be told. Somehow, they hacked into the city’s systems and quickly established complete control. Then, all it took was for them to kill a few of the security team before the others lay down like a pack of meek dogs. All except Fincher, that is.” Douglas looked down at his half-filled case, but his expression suggested he wasn’t really seeing it. “God knows how the man survived. He tried to order them into submission just like he does everyone else. Lucky for him, one of the pirates decided to knock him out instead of putting a hole in him.”
“Did they take anyone?” Cal asked, causing the bearded man to look up with a raised eyebrow.
“Actually yes, our chief engineer and most of his staff…a bit of skill and knowledge to go with the stolen technology, I guess. As a result, Fincher now has a third of his security detail busy with the constant maintenance the city requires. Probably the reason he’s keen to recruit.”
“What about the ships they came in on?”
“I’m not the right man to ask about that, I’m afraid, Mr Harper. I’ve never held much interest in ships, and I’m afraid I didn’t pay them much attention.”
“What about words?” Cal was aware that his tone held an air of desperation, but he didn’t bother to hide it. “Did you overhear anything? Anything that might indicate where they’d been or where they were going?”
Douglas chewed on his pipe, his brows creased in thought. “Again, I’m afraid I can’t help. My head was spinning when they attacked, mostly in fear for my wife and kids.”
Cal nodded his understanding but was unable to hide his frustration.
“I take it that all this sounds familiar,” Douglas observed. “Do you mind me asking what you’re doing here?”
Feeling there was no easy answer, Cal simply said, “We’re looking for a friend. Someone who was taken, just like your chief engineer.”
Seeming satisfied by the response, Douglas returned his attentions to his pipe.
“Why was it bad timing?” Jumper asked after a few moments, causing Douglas to look at him quizzically. “Earlier, you mentioned that the defenses going down was particularly bad timing.”
“Ah, yes. Bad timing with the Kratanu birthing cycles. They only give birth once every nine years.”
“You’re saying that it’s risen from the deep to lay eggs?” Toker asked.
“Not exactly but near enough. The young enter the world encased in relatively thin birthing sacks. Unfortunately, this particular Kratanu has mistaken the city’s main dome for one of the many coral islands in the area.”
Toker ran a hand through his long hair in a failed attempt to appear nonchalant. “So what does that mean for the city?”
“It means that we’re all potentially in a good deal of trouble,” Douglas replied.
Toker took a step forward. “Uh huh. And exactly what kind of trouble would that be?” He asked the question tentatively, as if his tone might somehow affect the answer.
“Probably not what you’re thinking.”
“Well that’s good to hear,” Toker said. “Cos I was thinking that the bloody great beast is going to get annoyed that it’s mistaken the city for coral and end up ripping it to shreds.”
Douglas shook his head and placed his pipe in a hand-sized shell on the desk. “The Kratanu won’t do us any harm…at least not directly. Once it releases its young, it will retreat back into the depths with very little fuss.”
“Release its young where?” Toker pushed.
“The Kratanu use the coral islands in this region as birthing places. The islands are hollow, their interiors riddled with networks of caves, which are teeming with life. The mother uses her beak to break through to the hollow interior and deposit her offspring within—a safe environment with easy prey for the young to feed upon and grow strong.”
Seeing the direction this was heading, Toker grimaced and shook his head. “But that central dome…nothing could get through that glass.”
“Under any normal circumstances, yes. But perhaps the same could be said about the incredibly dense coral that makes up the islands. The Kratanu have evolved to overcome this. As soon as they mount a suitable birthing location, they start to secrete an acid, which, over a number of days, will weaken the structural integrity enough for the creature’s powerful beak to break through.” Douglas shrugged almost apologetically. “The glass of the dome is tough, but…”
“Bloody buggery.” Toker nervously glanced at Jumper then at Cal. “All of a sudden, I’m feeling a touch claustrophobic.”
“How long until it breaks through?” Jumper asked.
Again, Douglas shrugged. “There’s not much data, but from the available studies, I estimate that the city’s occupants have between three days and a week before they become nothing more than soft-bodied sustenance. Certainly no longer than that.”
Eddy drifted over, the man’s words seeming to have piqued her interest.
Keen to get back to the subject of the pirate attack, Cal rubbed his head, trying to mask his annoyance. “So they’ll just have to seal off the main dome and wait out this birthing process. Surely, they can wait for the little creatures to die or perhaps create an exit for them out into the sea? Then, they’ll just have to rebuild the dome as best they can. It might not look as pretty, but shit happens.”<
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Douglas cleared his throat and picked up his pipe again. “I’m afraid you don’t understand the weight of this situation, Mr. Harper. But perhaps I haven’t explained myself particularly well. The Kratanu have a remarkable ability to detect vibrations and will only select islands with signs of life to ensure food for their young.”
Cal shook his head. “So, like I said, that section of the city will have to be evacuated for a time. I’m sure everyone will easily fit in the remaining portion of the city. Like you said, many of the sensible residents have already left.”
“They could,” Douglas agreed. “That would be sensible. But the problem lies in the ability to seal off the area.”
Cal glanced at the door to the apartment. “That door of yours looks as though it’s designed to withstand a fair amount of pressure. How strong can these young creatures be? I’ve not been in the city long, but already, I’ve seen countless such doors.”
Douglas smiled, but it held no humor. “I used to work on a deep-sea mining rig in the waters around Sarsis. The design of that rig was clunky and ugly as hell, but d’you know what? Everything worked and continued to work because it was designed with efficiency and reliability in mind. If there’s one thing that fancy designers and rich patrons give greater value to than those things, it’s aesthetics. Everything in this whole damn city was first and foremost designed to look pretty. That big, round door behind you looks and operates the way it does because it’s considered pleasing to the eye. It’s an impressive moving sculpture, I’ll admit, but unfortunately, their propensity for malfunctioning is ridiculously high.”
Cal looked down at his boots with a sigh and rubbed his temples.
“I’ve been keeping a personal log,” Douglas continued. “And I’m afraid to say that almost half of the city’s doors are already malfunctioning. And guess what…”
Cal looked up, an urge to hit something taking hold. “There’s no remaining parts or personnel with the knowledge to fix them.”
Douglas acknowledged the statement with a small nod and point of his pipe. “All now in the possession of pirates. Once it’s ready, that Kratanu is going to smash a hole in the central dome with enough force to rock this entire city like it’s been hit by a tsunami—and that’s exactly what the emergency systems are going to deduce has happened. Assuming the system works as it should, it’s going to attempt to close every watertight door in the city in order to isolate and minimize potential flooding. But with half the doors malfunctioning, all it will do is create one giant maze.”
