by J G Cressey
Douglas stared at them all intensely, slowly shaking his head. “Believe me; it will be mayhem. A huge, complex rat trap for everyone to run around in while they flee hungry hatchlings looking to grow big and strong. By human standards, they’ll already be big and strong, of course. Their beaks will still be relatively soft, and the retractable claws within their suckers don’t develop until later in life. But their tentacles will have strength. They’ll easily be capable of strangling or suffocating their prey.”
Toker let out a little burst of nervous laughter. “Okay, Cal, Jumper, I vote we continue our little vacation elsewhere.”
“Reckon blondie’s right,” Eddy said as she came to stand by his side. She shrugged at Toker’s look of surprise. “Reckon it’s time we got back to looking for the lady doc. Can’t be hanging around here babysitting stupid rich folk.”
Cal was sorely tempted to agree with his young companions, but the look on Jumper’s face dragged his conscience out of the dark. Besides, he wasn’t about to let go of the best lead he’d had in months without further investigation. With slightly gritted teeth, he turned back to Douglas. “Our ship has some pretty substantial firepower. Maybe we could take off and encourage the creature back into the depths?”
Douglas shook his head. “It’s too close to giving birth. It’s committed and if threatened will put up one hell of a fight. The city will likely be torn apart before it gives up. Those tentacles can—”
“Sure, sure,” Cal interrupted. “I think I get the picture.” He thought for a moment, pacing a little as Douglas went back to his packing. “You say we have a minimum of three days?” he asked after a time. “Three days before the sky falls on our heads?”
“Your heads, Mr. Harper. That’s if you’re stupid enough to hang around. Like I said, I’m leaving. I’ve tried my best here, but it’s time I joined my wife and kids in Aldular.”
“The authorities in Aldular,” Jumper said. “Can’t they offer aid? A mass evacuation?”
Douglas smiled, but it was infused with bitterness and frustration. “And here we come to the real problem.”
Cal nodded as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. “The prick?”
Douglas’ bitter smile remained as he again jabbed his pipe in Cal’s direction. “Correct. Fincher. No matter how much evidence I throw at the man, no matter how much I try and quietly reason with him or even shout directly at his stubbornly thick skull, he simply will not take onboard the gravity of the situation. As far as he’s concerned, there is no problem. He believes the creature will eventually realize its mistake and slither away.
“Bill Taley, the mayor of this city, was a sensible man. Unfortunately, he left for personal reasons back when Earth was destroyed and left a gaping hole, which was regrettably filled with Fincher’s idiocy. For some unfathomable reason, those still residing here seem to take the man’s word as gospel. And when it comes to this city, so do the authorities in Aldular. It’s an old-fashioned boys’ club. Even amid the building chaos of recent times, the hierarchy remain pompous and ridiculously rigid.”
“Who’s the second in command?” Eddy asked. “What’s their view on the beastie?”
Cal shook his head and glanced at Eddy. “It’s a thought, Eddy, but I don’t think we should shoot this man Fincher just yet.”
Douglas raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly unsure if it was a jest. The look on Eddy’s face probably wasn’t convincing him otherwise. “Fincher doesn’t believe in appointing a second in command—or anyone even close for that matter. Essentially, he’s on the top rung, and everyone else is on the ground, holding the ladder.”
Cal rubbed at his jaw and thought for a time, turning their options over in his mind. It was infuriating how so many people seemed determined not to adapt to the rapidly changing times. But perhaps he could understand it. Some simply weren’t adept at adapting, especially when their lives until that point had been such an easy, comfortable ride. They could try and help them, but it wouldn’t be without risks. Making Fincher see reason wouldn’t be achieved with a soft approach, and if they failed, it could end up with them locked in the brig.
But if Douglas was right, countless lives could be at risk. Not only that, but he was damned if he was going to leave this city without scraping up every shred of information regarding the pirates. Eventually, he turned to the rest of the gang. “You guys mind if we hang around for a day? See what can be done? No matter our success, we’ll be sure to leave before the trouble starts.”
Toker looked less than pleased with the prospect but nodded nonetheless. Eddy looked even less pleased but reluctantly mumbled something close to an agreement.
“Viktor and I are eager for the challenge, Cal.” This response came from Melinda, and Cal looked up to see Viktor grinning at him as he gave a little side nod in Melinda’s direction. Judging by the expression, he suspected the boy was far more focused on Melinda’s decision-making prowess than the actual decision made.
Lastly, Cal looked at Jumper. A shared look and a nod was all that was required between them. Satisfied, Cal turned to Douglas. “Could I persuade you to hold off on your departure for an hour or two, Mr. Douglas? I’d really appreciate you accompanying us for one last visit to Fincher.”
Douglas winced as if he had known what was going to be asked. He shook his head, but it was lackluster and seemed far from an out and out refusal. “It’s a big risk for me. I get the feeling that I’m just one shout from being thrown in the brig. And to be honest, I very much doubt I can hold my temper around that man.”
“What if we could guarantee protection from any attempted arrest?” More or less.
Douglas chuckled at that. “Well, that would be a neat trick, Mr. Harper. What are you going to do, gag me? If so, what’s the point in me coming along?”
“Don’t worry; you’ll get your say,” Cal said, shooting him a confident look. “And we’ll make sure every word is listened to without interruption.”
“An even neater trick. Surely, you’ve witnessed Fincher’s propensity for interrupting. Or perhaps it’s him you intend to gag? Either that or you plan hold him and his men at gunpoint? Need I remind you of the lack of permitted weapons in this city?”
Cal’s confident expression remained. “Trust me; there’s plenty of easily accessible weapons in this city. Tell me, Mr. Douglas, just how many guards are posted between here and the prick’s control room?”
Chapter 6 Confrontation
As it turned out, Jim Douglas didn’t need a great deal of coaxing to pay Fincher one last visit. The man made a brief show of resistance, but in the end, Cal suspected he still had plenty of steam to vent before leaving the city. By the time they’d vacated the apartment, the big man had assured them that Fincher, being a person of habit and strict schedules, would presently be holding his daily lunch meeting at the White Pearl restaurant located within the Central Dome.
Approving of the idea of a public confrontation, Cal suggested dropping in on the little party without delay. He suspected that in a city such as this, gossip would spread like wildfire, and the more the residents began to doubt their safety, the better. The pirate attack would have planted a seed of doubt in their minds. Then, the failure of the city’s defenses and the arrival of the Kratanu would have caused that seed to germinate. Now perhaps a decent ruckus would sprout that seed enough for them to come to their senses and flee or at the very least take it upon themselves to contact the Aldular authorities en mass. Also, Cal couldn’t deny the urge to get a good look at the Central Dome and the great beast smothering its vast, glass ceiling. Judging by Jumper’s expression, he could see he wasn’t alone in this.
The route to the center of the city had brought them into contact with ten guards. With subtlety and efficiency in mind, they ignored half of them, and Cal nominated Melinda to disarm the other five. Over and above the obvious advantages of strength and speed, the synthetic woman’s beauty seemed to have a partially stunning effect on the hapless guards, and it di
dn’t take much for her to render them unconscious. Indeed, she was almost tender in her methods. Wanting to avoid lengthy explanations, Cal had kept Douglas well back from the inhuman display. Fortunately, the man didn’t seem interested in the details.
Five sidearms richer, they eventually reached the Central Dome’s Western Gate. Passing under a wide, golden archway, they stepped onto a grandiose balcony of carved stone and smooth marble set high above the Dome’s interior. Walking to the balcony’s edge, they all took a moment to take in the far-reaching views. It was a colossal space housing a dizzying amount of restaurants, cafés, and shops, all arranged on vast, disc-shaped platforms of varying heights. The sheer size of the place allowed the eateries to adopt an open air design with patios and lush gardens offering generous seating arrangements throughout. There were even gently flowing streams winding their way between small gardens and parks.
Despite all the splendor, the Dome’s interior didn’t have the power to hold their attention for long—not when there was a beast the size of a deep space cruiser pressed against the huge glass ceiling high above their heads. Even with both Aqualorian suns blazing high in the sky, the Kratanu’s bulk covered enough of the Dome’s glass that the nighttime lighting had been activated.
Glistening under that light, the creature’s underside was a grey, mottled mass of smooth flesh that paled as it split into eight thick tentacles. Only the bases of those tentacles could be seen before they disappeared from view to coil their way around other areas of the city. Enough was on display, however, to reveal uniform rows of huge, circular suckers, which, in contrast to the drab colors of the body, had a bright, bluish tinge that turned pink around the edges where they pressed tight against the glass.
“Now I’ve seen it all,” Toker said, his voice almost a whisper as he gazed up.
“You’d think,” Cal replied, “but something new always seems to turn up.”
“Quite spectacular,” Jumper announced, a rare level of awe in his tone. “A wonder of nature.”
“Looks pretty bloody disgusting to me,” Eddy said, craning her neck. “Kinda like a humungous bird shat on the roof.”
Toker chuckled at that.
“It ain’t moving at all,” Eddy pointed out after a few more moments of staring. “Maybe it’s dead.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Toker replied. “Perhaps you should head outside and give it a poke. Just to be sure.”
Eddy turned her stare on him. “Yeah, maybe. Or it might just be too weak and hungry to move. Perhaps I’ll drag you out there and give it a treat.”
“Well, whatever we do, I guess we can’t stand here gawping forever,” Cal said as he turned to Douglas. “You mind escorting us in?”
Douglas nodded and without hesitation started down a wide, marble staircase, the shallow steps of which descended in a leisurely arc that eventually led directly into the Central Dome’s bustling throng.
It was quickly apparent that they were fortunate to have Douglas as a guide. No less than a thousand paths seemed to snake their way between the countless restaurants, cafés, and parks. Occasionally, those paths would merge with shopping streets lined with delicatessens, boutiques, and jewelry shops—probably enough to satisfy the citizens of five cities.
Glancing at a window displaying some particularly appetizing patisseries, Cal wondered what was being used for currency. The destruction of Earth combined with the lack of long-range communications had quickly rendered the Federation banking system null and void. The more advanced colonies they’d visited had fallen back on their own local systems and currencies, occasionally reaching out to establish agreements with their closer neighbors, but how successful they were being, Cal had no idea as they never stuck around long enough to find out.
Callacean, it seemed, was holding up remarkably well, certainly as far as commerce was concerned. If you ignored the great beast pressed against the glass high overhead, one could even have been forgiven for believing that civilization wasn’t hanging in the balance.
Catching up with Douglas, Cal walked by his side for a time. “What’s being used for currency here, Douglas?”
“Cellins. A local currency. Before the crisis, it was rarely used, but Fincher and the powers in Aldular were quick to reestablish it. Despite losing most of their Fed wealth, the majority of the residents still had large sums in the local system, and those that didn’t have simply traded in some of their physical wealth: jewels, antiques… It caused a good deal of upheaval for a time, even violence, truth be told, but Fincher was quick to quash it.”
“I’m quite impressed,” Cal admitted. “Most of the other colonies we’ve visited are in complete disarray.”
“Don’t be fooled by the façade, Mr. Harper. If you take the time to look past the glitzy, well-stocked shopfronts and the false joviality of the citizens, you’ll see that the shops are half empty and the people are hiding a great deal of fear. Off-world trade has become a shambles: food, medicines, tech, clothing… If it’s not derived from the oceans, it’s already in short supply. And with the military gone, people know they’re not truly safe.” Douglas shook his head. “For now, the seams have been stitched, but they won’t last. Even if we manage to sort the Kratanu problem, life can’t continue the way it has in the past. Not even close.”
Looking more carefully about him, Cal could see that the man was right. Past those shop fronts, he noticed an awful lot of empty shelves. And for every citizen who was swooning around chatting and laughing, there were two more who were failing to fully conceal their distress. Their eyes gave them away—a slightly haunted look as if they knew they were existing on borrowed time.
He wondered about the waiters and shop assistants. Those without any sort of wealth. Was it worse for them? All the ships in the dock suggested that the citizens at least had the option of leaving. But what choices did those in service have other than to continue on in the hope that food and shelter would remain?
Deciding to try and keep his focus on the more immediate problem, Cal periodically turned his gaze heavenward to stare in wonder at the mammoth creature high above. He couldn’t help looking at it because it hardly seemed real, an image from a dream or some exaggerated VR world. The wonderment, however, kept getting harshly disrupted as he stumbled on a cobbled bridge or collided with a meandering shopper. After a particularly painful collision with a jutting park bench, he resolved to delay any further admiration of the great beast until he was standing still.
“What you flippin’ lookin’ at?”
Thinking the sharply toned question had been directed at him, Cal turned to see that Eddy was in fact glaring at an elderly couple who were staring down at them from the balcony of a nearby café. For a brief moment, their looks of disapproval seemed almost a match for Eddy’s hostility, but the fact that the girl looked ready to scramble up the ornate railings in order to throw them off said balcony quickly diluted their resolve.
Cal wasn’t surprised by his young friend’s annoyance. In truth, considering the sheer volume of disapproving looks being thrown their way, he was amazed it had taken her this long to snap. Even the occasional child they passed seemed condemning of their appearance—although most just looked amused. Judging by these reactions and the attire of those surrounding them, Cal imagined they were probably breaking every dress code in the book.
“Don’t mind them, Eddy,” Cal said in an attempt to keep the girl calm. “They’re just curious.”
With balled fists, Eddy sucked noisily on her teeth. “Yeah, well we all know what that did to the dog.”
Toker grinned at her. “Not sure I’m familiar with the fate of the dog.”
“Well, it wasn’t good,” Eddy informed him, having completely missed the sarcasm.
“Hows about we just ignore the lot of them and keep moving,” Cal suggested. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.” And the sooner I can get back to tracking those damned pirates.
After what seemed an age, they finally
reached their destination. As with the majority of the restaurants they’d passed, the White Pearl boasted a large dining garden enclosed by tall trellises, elegant and bare enough to reveal the popularity of the establishment within. As he neared, Cal peered through, his eyes scanning the chattering groups of diners. Up ahead, Douglas was swiftly making for the entrance, which consisted of an ornate archway covered in delicate, fruit-bearing vines. With barely a pause for thought, the big man roughly barged a small queue of customers aside.
Looks like his blood’s up again, Cal thought as he made to catch up with the man. He was glad to see it; for this to work, they would need to make an impression.
A thin, suited maître d’ holding an overly adorned data tablet hastily stepped forward to block Douglas’ path. “If you don’t mind, sir, we have a strict—”
Douglas thrust out his big hand, which engulfed the entirety of the unfortunate maître d’s face, and mercilessly shoved him backward. A good deal of fruits fell from the archway as the man bounced off it and collided noisily with his greeting lectern. He went down hard, much to the shock of those nearby. Happy with the path the big man was creating, Cal swiftly followed him and scoured the horde of diners for Fincher’s pinched face. He was easy to spot. Seemingly alerted by the commotion, the man was already on his feet, as were his fellow table guests—four of whom were dressed in guard uniforms.
“I’d like a word, Fincher,” Douglas bellowed over the tables as he hastily skirted a group of alarmed diners and strode forward. “And this time, you’ll bloody well hear me out.”
