Callacean: Fractured Space Book 2 (A Novella) (Fractured Space Series)

by J G Cressey

  Cal matched Douglas’ fast pace and continued to assess Fincher and those of his party. The man himself looked furious—with perhaps a hint of disbelief that such an atrocity was taking place. Those around him, including three of his guards, wore looks ranging from startled confusion to wide-eyed embarrassment. Incredibly, only the fourth guard had the sense to be reaching for his weapon. Unwilling to shoot any of them just yet, Cal snatched a silver tray from the hands of a nearby waiter—who seemed frozen on the spot—and threw it frisbee-like at the guard’s chest. The blow was enough to stop the fumbled drawing of his sidearm and knock him back into his chair with a shocked cry.

  Without breaking his stride, Cal made a beeline for the red-faced Fincher. The man was thrusting a finger at him and barking something with barely controlled rage. Cal didn’t listen. Instead, he closed the gap between them at a near run and punched him square in the face.

  Fincher dropped like a stone.

  A good deal of shocked cries rang out as well as a few screams as people lurched to their feet and stumbled away from the sudden violence. Cal ignored them all. Reaching down, he hauled the dazed, bloody-nosed Fincher off the ground and wrapped an arm around his neck. Glancing about, he mused over how little it took to create hysteria among these privileged, sheltered folk. Thankfully, it was precisely the reaction he’d been hoping for. These people needed a wake-up call, something to drag them from their blinkered existence and face the reality of their situation before it crashed down on their heads.

  The hysteria continued for some moments as Jumper, Eddy, and Toker took up positions around Fincher’s party, levelling their acquired pistols at anyone who looked in danger of flirting with bravery.

  After some moments, the din began to simmer in favor of mumbled curses and the occasional haughty demand for an explanation.

  “Release me at once.”

  The order came from Fincher, who was grasping desperately at the arm wrapped around his neck. Despite his obvious discomfort and confusion, the man still managed a grating volume. But much of the previous arrogance was gone, perhaps leaked away with the blood from his nose.

  “I said, ‘Release me,’” Fincher repeated as he attempted to break the headlock. Cal didn’t need to try hard to resist the man’s efforts; he clearly wasn’t blessed with natural physical strength, and he apparently had no combat training to compensate for the shortcoming.

  “Arrest this man immediately,” Fincher tried, the last word becoming a little warped as Cal tightened his hold.

  “Quiet down, will you?” Cal asked calmly. “Your squawking’s giving me a headache.”

  Fincher did his best to clear his throat and continue without any regard for Cal’s appeal. “You will release your hold. Then, every one of you will be thrown in the—”

  The man’s words caught in his throat as Cal reached down, took hold of his left wrist, and twisted it sharply. Forcing the arm up, Cal struck the man on the forehead with his own genuine watch.

  “Enough,” Fincher blurted, failing to hide his increasing shock. “You hear me, enough.”

  Again, Cal rapped him on the forehead with the watch.

  “Have you any idea—“

  The watch made a dull clunk for a third time, its proud bezel leaving a red mark.

  “You—“

  Clunk.

  “I’m—“

  Clunk.

  “Are you going to be a good chap and quiet down?” Cal asked. This time, no answer came, but he could feel that slight tremble of silent rage. Cal didn’t feel any guilt over his methods. If Douglas was to be believed, the lives of everyone in the city were at risk. A show needed to be made, something to carry the gossip far and wide and with enough weight to drive the point home.

  “There we go,” Cal said after a moment. “Now, if you continue to stay quiet, it might be possible to hear other people’s voices. It might seem a strange concept, but let’s give it a go, shall we?” Despite not looking around, Cal was fully aware of the countless sets of eyes locked on him. The muttering was rapidly diminishing, the initial distress and confusion of the crowd giving way to an instinctual fascination, excitement even. Despite social standing dictating that they pretend otherwise, there were very few who didn’t get a strange satisfaction from such drama, especially when it was unfolding right before their very eyes.

  “Okay,” Cal continued, “here’s what’s going to happen.” Despite directing the words at Fincher, he projected them as if in a stage show, loud enough for the captivated audience. “First, you’re going to hear what my new friend Jim Douglas has to say. I suspect he’s said it countless times already, but I think it will be beneficial to hear one last time. Try your absolute best to absorb what’s being said. After that, we’re going to take a trip to your control room with my young friend Viktor here.” Without relinquishing his hold, Cal turned Fincher to the left until Viktor was in his line of sight. With a smile, the boy nodded. He was standing almost casually beside Melinda, who was grasping the shoulder of a rather pained looking guard. “Viktor’s a talented young man, and he’s going to set about fixing your city’s defenses.” Upon seeing Viktor’s changing expression, Cal quickly continued. “And just in case that fails, I’m going to encourage you to contact the authorities in Aldular. I think after Douglas has said his piece, you’ll be in total agreement that the city requires immediate aid and probably a complete—”

  Despite the verve of his theatrical tone, Cal’s last few words were completely and utterly drowned out. A sudden rumble had begun that seemed to reverberate up through the floor and continue on up his spine. Along with everyone surrounding him—and quite probably everyone in the entire Central Dome—Cal fell silent and looked up.

  The Kratanu was moving. Not particularly fast but a beast that size didn’t need to be speedy to make an impression.

  Fincher began to struggle again. “What’s going on? I demand to know what’s going on.”

  Cal ignored the man and, without loosening his hold, continued to watch the Kratanu. The claw-like appendages that Douglas had spoken of were emerging from the center of each sucker like the jet black talons of some monstrous raven. As the claws made contact with the glass, the inner portions of the suckers drew back, increasing the beast’s grip. Then, its entire body seemed to contract as if in spasm, its musculature rippling and going taught, hard enough for each of the suckers to shift, claws gouging deep into the glass. The resulting sound was nothing short of deafening—the thunderous roar of an angry god. But it was also short-lived as the beast once again became still.

  Tearing his eyes from the Kratanu, Cal briefly looked about. If he wasn’t witnessing it with his own senses, he would have thought it impossible that such a vast space filled with so many people could retain such silence. All eyes were directed upward, and all voices were rendered mute. He glanced at Douglas and decided to break that remarkable silence with a whispered question. “Has it moved like this before?”

  Douglas turned to him, his eyes no less wide than any of those surrounding them. The big man seemed struck dumb, his face ashen. All he managed was a shake of his head. Discouraged by the man’s obvious fear, Cal once again looked up.

  The creature moved again. But this time, it was far from slow. A flash of black right in the center of its underside was followed by a bone-rattling boom. The huge beak struck the dome with enough force to make the floor beneath their feet judder.

  If the Kratanu’s first movement had been the trigger to stun everyone into silence, this second one sparked a mass panic of biblical proportions. Never had Cal heard so many screams of terror or seen so many attempting to flee in one single moment. Chairs were toppled, tables overturned, and it seemed only seconds before people were being trampled underfoot. It didn’t help matters that no one seemed right minded enough to know which direction to flee.

  The beast struck again.

  Having temporarily forgotten about his existence, Cal released Fincher and allowed him to scramble away.
The man mattered little now. The chaos had begun, and Fincher’s word held no more sway than anyone else's.

  Cal looked up as the beast struck for a third time. The dome was cracking, shards starting to break loose. He turned to Douglas. “Three days?”

  Still white as a sheet, Douglas blinked at him. “I was wrong.”

  “No shit.” Cal grabbed hold of him and gave him a shake. “You need to guide us the hell out of here. Get us to the Northern port. Back to our ship.” He had to shout the words to be heard over the commotion. “We have weapons on our ship. You need to get us there as soon as possible.” He gave him another shake to drive the point home.

  Finally, Douglas nodded. “Yes…yes, forgive me…” He looked about, no doubt trying to grasp his bearings amid the chaos. “Okay…right…right. Follow me. All of you, follow me.”

  Satisfied that the man seemed to have found enough composure to be a worthy guide, Cal turned to the rest of the gang, who had already gathered close. “We’re getting the hell out of here. Stay close; it’ll be easy to lose each other amid the chaos.”

  They all nodded with the composure of those with experience under their belts, the expressions of those who’d seen it all before.

  But of course, nobody had ever seen it all.

  Together, they rushed from the White Pearl’s garden and joined the fleeing throng.

  Chapter 7 Run

  Jim Douglas wasn’t as fit as Cal would have hoped. Sure, he was doing an excellent job at guiding them through the mass panic, confidently weaving his way along the countless paths and streets, most of which were packed full of fleeing crowds, but in the past few minutes, the big man had started to slow considerably, and Cal could hear him wheezing even over the din of terrified voices.

  There was another deafening boom. Cal paused for a moment to look up. More huge shards of glass were breaking free, the great height of their fall creating the illusion of slow motion. He hoped to God there were no people where the shards were crashing down. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked again. The Kratanu had succeeded in creating a huge, jagged breach right at the apex of the dome, and if Douglas was right, it wouldn’t be long before it released its offspring—something he suspected would give mass panic a whole new meaning.

  Cal set off again, quickly catching up with Douglas and the others. The screams, though less intense, were proving continuous, and not for the first time, Cal wondered how much energy a fleeing person wasted by keeping up that level of noise. Douglas hadn’t screamed once, but still, he was struggling. Collapsing heavily onto a nearby bench, the big man raised an unsteady hand. “Just give me a minute,” he gasped, dropping his head down and sucking in some breaths.

  “Just one,” Cal replied as he stepped up onto the back of the bench and tried to catch sight of the Northern Gate. The shops were too tightly packed to get a decent view, but he could see by the steep curve of the dome that they must be close. “Not much further,” he said, looking down at Douglas. “You think you can make it?”

  “Of course,” Douglas said quickly—with perhaps a hint of fear that they were going to abandon him. “Just give me my full minute.”

  “Maybe Melinda should carry him,” Viktor suggested.

  Still breathing heavily, the big man looked up sharply, seeming annoyed that the boy was finding it appropriate to joke at such a time.

  Cal considered Viktor’s suggestion for a moment but quickly rejected it. He wanted Melinda unhindered and free to fight whatever the hell was coming. Dropping off the bench, he shared a look with Jumper. From his face, he suspected that his old friend was thinking the same thing. It was time to break out the Xcel. The serum’s effects would last for hours. Plenty of time to reach the Star Splinter. His only reluctance was Douglas’ reaction. Dosing a person who had no prior knowledge or experience of the intense serum was a risky move. He looked down at the big man. His minute was up, but still, he appeared barely fit to stand.

  With little other choice, Jumper unfurled his Xcel pack and started handing out the little syringes. Cal pressed one to his own neck and activated it, the syringe’s smart technology injecting the serum swiftly and painlessly with very little trauma to the skin. Then, he passed one to Douglas, who’d been watching them quizzically.

  “It’s a stim of sorts,” Cal explained as the big man turned the little syringe in his hand and stared intently at the bright green liquid. “A very potent one that’s going to help us all get the hell out of here.”

  Douglas nodded, looking conflicted as he stared at the liquid.

  “Just press it to your neck,” Cal said, feeling a little frustrated at the man’s hesitation but at the same time completely understanding it. “It’s a smart syringe. Very hard to mess up, and it won’t hurt in the least.”

  Douglas looked at him. “I’ve used syringes like this before. But the liquid… It’s bright green. Are you sure—”

  “Oh bloody flippin’…” Putting her freshly boosted speed to good use, Eddy lunged forward, snatched the syringe from the big man’s hand, and before he even knew what was happening, she activated it against his neck.

  The effect was immediate.

  Douglas lurched off the bench, eyes wide as he almost knocked Eddy on her backside. For a moment, he stood rigid, looking a little confused; then, he stumbled forward, staring down at his hands, his expression part shock, part awed wonder. “What the… How the…”

  Despite the situation, Cal grinned. He remembered his own first experience with the serum only too well. The spread of warmth swiftly followed by that surge of power through every muscle, an instant sharpening of the senses and a welcome purging of the mind. The feeling was far more potent than any chemical stim or drug and far more complete. But it was more than that. Unlike any chemical boost, the body and mind seemed instinctively aware that this was a natural fuel, a hugely beneficial elixir rather than some foreign, man-made substance with likely negative consequences.

  Douglas jumped, probably higher than he ever had in his life. Then he jumped again, substantially higher still. “My God…my God.” Even under his thick, bushy beard, it was clear that he was sporting a wide grin. “This is…this is…” seeming lost for words, he leapt up onto the same bench that he’d been a wheezing wreck on only moments before. Unused to his newfound strength and agility, however, the big man overcooked the jump and would have fallen over the back of the bench had Jumper not grabbed him.

  “Okay, easy, big fella,’ Jumper said as he set him straight.

  “Sorry,” Douglas said as he gingerly stepped down from the bench. “I got a little carried away. But this stuff… Where did you…” the man’s question faded as his attention was pulled elsewhere. “Oh Christ, oh bloody Christ.”

  Seeing Douglas’ grin disappear, Cal turned to see the source of his renewed anxiety. Something was raining down from the roof of the dome. At first, he thought he was seeing more falling glass—a lot more falling glass. But despite the reflective, silvery appearance of the descending mass, its edges were distinctively smooth, the individual forms bulbous.

  “What the hell is it?” Toker asked even though he plainly knew the answer.

  Douglas whispered something—a quick prayer or possibly a string of curses. “It’s birthing… It’s releasing its young.”

  “Those weird silvery blobs?” Eddy replied, sounding unconvinced as she squinted heavenward.

  “They’re protective birthing sacks.”

  “But there’re hundreds of them.”

  “Eventually, there’ll be thousands,” Douglas explained. “Tens of thousands. They birth in huge numbers to increase the survival rate.”

  “Damn it to hell,” Toker breathed as he placed his hand on the grip of his pistol.

  “They won’t all come at once,” Douglas assured them. “Some will escape the sacks in moments; others could take hours. But once they’re free, their one and only urge will be to hunt and feed.”

  “So let’s get bloody moving,” Eddy sugges
ted.

  Douglas looked at her and nodded. “That’s a very good idea.”

  Bar a few trips and some rather spectacular tumbles, Douglas’ progress through the Central Dome was quite remarkable. The Xcel and the sight of the falling beasts had turned him into a man possessed, a superhuman man possessed, and thanks to this speed, it wasn’t long before the Northern Gate was in plain sight. It was almost identical in design to the Western Gate: a wide, marble stairway and huge, stately balcony, which, despite the awkward throng of people clambering upon them, seemed to project a promise of safe haven. But in truth, Cal suspected that no such promise would be fulfilled. Jim Douglas had been wrong about the countdown to the Kratanu’s birthing, but he’d been right about everything else. And if this knowing streak continued, the only thing that the gate would offer was a starting point to a maze of corridors and malfunctioning doors.

  As he ran, Cal continued to shout to those nearby to get to the docks. It was perhaps redundant advice, and he probably wasn’t even being heard over the din, but he felt the need to shout it nonetheless. The best chance they stood was to get to the ships. Or at the very least to get to the storage of surrendered weapons that the dock guards held.

  No longer bothering to stick to pathways, Douglas had started to lead them directly across a lawned park that ran almost directly to the base of the Northern Gate’s stairs. As he followed, Cal wondered how long it might be until the first of the hungry newborns appeared. But no sooner had he leapt over a copse of half-flattened miniature trees did he hear a dramatic surge in the screaming.

  Looking ahead to the balcony, Cal saw renewed terror on all the faces turned toward the center of the dome. Time’s up, he thought grimly as he put on a burst of speed and jumped a small river that cut its way through the beds of trampled flowers. The rest of the gang were ahead of him and had stopped and turned, weapons raised.