by Meridian
In the main cabin, hologram displays showed different views of the interior of the great central tower above the Aves.
“We’re here, where are they?” Redfire asked. “No communication since we landed. This makes me nervous.”
“It’s probably just a quarantine,” Lear said reassuringly. “They probably recognize that one alien virus could devastate their world. Their behavior is really quite sensible. We should take this as reassurance that we’re dealing with an advanced and rational civilization.” Redfire looked up from his displays. “Those are the kind of civilizations that are the most dangerous.” Matthew Driver remained on the flight deck. He had safely brought his ship and its passengers to the planet. The first part of his job was done. The next part would be to fly them out again. Until then, he was just an observer.
He didn’t feel a need to pass his time with the rest of the landing party, rationalizing that he did not want to interfere with the performance of their duties. If his isolation was partly out of the desire not to associate with Eliza Jane Change’s possible boyfriend, he wasn’t admitting it to himself. Part of him was pretty sure the other man was just a friend, like himself, but he was in no hurry to acquaint himself with the particulars.
He lay back in the pilot’s seat and meditated on warm places, on flying free like a bird. His breathing slowed. Beyond the canopy, snow began to fall. Not the hard pellets of frozen chemicals that blasted his home of Midlothian every winter, but great white fluffy flakes that fell ever thicker, lazily wafting down.
In his dream, he was about twelve or thirteen years old, lying naked in his bed in Midlothian. His quarters were as they had been when the family first moved in, stark and bare. Outside the large window that curved over his sleep chamber, a blizzard was raging, howling winds and furies of frozen carbon dioxide cut through the canyons outside the habitat sector.
He was worried that someone outside was going to see him naked, and he was embarrassed by his small body, as he had been frequently at that age.
A fully grown Eliza Jane Change was lying in bed next to him in her Odyssey Project Uniform. He felt small beside her. He wanted to cover himself with the blankets, but she wrapped them all around herself, complaining that she was cold.
He replied that he was also cold, and she said, “Aye, but this way I can see everything,” which made him uncomfortable.
Then his sister Kayliegh, also all grown up and dressed, came into his room. She said she was cold and wanted to sleep with him. Naked in front of his sister, Matthew tried to shift his body in such a way as to hide his genitals. Kayliegh didn’t seem to notice. She got into the bed and went under the covers with Eliza Jane, but also wrapped him under the covers as well, so that he was lying naked in-between them.
Suddenly, Eliza grabbed him by the tonkas, and somehow without pain, pulled him close to her. “Listen, to me, Matthew,” she said. “You have got to hide. Lockdown the Flight Deck and hide.” She was looking into his eyes with a fierce, burning intensity. “Hide, Matthew, Hide now!”
Matthew snapped awake again.
Redfire was analyzing every scrap of information Prudence and the orbital probes could deliver to him on the structure of this arcology. Prudence was parked directly below some kind of nexus point for the energy that flowed throughout the city; a veritable Solstice Tree of interesting energy patterns. Beneath the city was a separate, very unusual energy reading caused by the decay of tachyon particles unconnected to the other patterns.
Redfire understood better than most that cities were organisms. They contained circulatory systems
–- streets, sidewalks, water and sewerage. They contained neural networks in the form of power and data transmission infrastructures. They required outside energy to sustain them. They produced waste. They did everything even metaphorically breathing and mating like living things. But not this city. It was all one enormous, interconnected structure, like a cancer, an undifferentiated mass of cells sinking deep into the planet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement on one of his displays. He waved his hand to pull it to its full size. A swarm of people in heavy, black chunky clothing like old-style military gear were moving into position on both sides of the ship.
Lear snapped to his side. “Finally,” she said. “Contact!”
“They don’t look very friendly,” said Redfire.
“We can’t presume hostile intent.”
“Says who?”
When the troopers had assembled around the ship, one of their number came forward, and raised a large, black egg-shaped device with thick vein-like protuberances on the side. It issued a loud command.
“Exit the transport! Leave All Your Weapons Inside! You will not be harmed!”
“Jamming,” said Redfire. “An enemy who issues threats in haiku.”
“Not an enemy,” Lear corrected.
“O.K., a friend we haven’t met yet.”
“Well, I’m not afraid,” said Halliburton. “Orders, Tyro Commander?” Lear set her jaw. “Give me external comlink.” Halliburton complied. “People of Meridian, we have come here on a peaceful mission. The number of persons gathering outside our ship is… intimidating. A withdrawal would be evidence of mutual good intentions.”
Oh, za, that will clear everything up. Redfire thought. He began scanning the cabin for an escape route.
Goneril Lear waited for a response. Eagerness to make contact, to succeed in her mission, had led her to bring the ship here too quickly, and that might have been a mistake. The inhabitants had not shown overt hostility, she reminded herself, but her crew was vulnerable.
Seconds passed, then a response came from the Meridian communication device. “Exit the transport and you will be escorted to meet the Regulators. No harm will come to you.” Simultaneous with the announcement, about half of the troopers drew away from the ship, making a crescent formation about thirty meters back.
Lear pondered the situation for some seconds. “Mr. Halliburton, record what I am about to say, append it to the Mission Log, and transmit it and all of our sensor analysis to Pegasus. ” Lear spoke to her crew. “We came here to make contact with the people of Meridian. The only way to make contact with them is to accept some risk. We knew when we volunteered that Odyssey demands courage. Pegasus will be here soon. For their sakes, as well as for the Odyssey Project, we have to show strength, and that means meeting the inhabitants on their own terms. The seven of us …” She turned away from him and rather pointedly began closing the front of her landing jacket without taking a sidearm. She looked around the cabin. Redfire had vanished. “Where is Tyro Commander Redfire?” she asked.
The rest of the crew looked around the cabin. Focused on the Merids, they had not seen him leave.
“All right, then, the six of us…” Lear looked around again. Eddie Roebuck was gone as well. This did not concern her. Those two were unlikely to have made a good first impression on the people of Meridian anyway.
“The five …” Then she saw that Driver was also no where to be seen. She asked where he was.
“He was asleep on the Flight Deck when I checked a few minutes ago,” said Partridge.
“Let him sleep,” she said finally, “We four will go forth and make contact with the people of this planet. Specialist Partridge, is the atmosphere out there safe?”
“No toxic gases,” Partridge reported, with a hitch in his voice suggesting part of him wished there were.
Lear straightened the front of her landing jacket. “Technician Halliburton, open the hatch.” With trembling hands, Halliburton released the locks. The inner hatch slid to the side. The outer hatch opened upward, a swarm of beings in black armor flooded into the ship.
“We come in peace,” Lear began to say as she and the others — Halliburton, Taurus, and Partridge —
were surrounded by Merid troopers. The troopers were swift and silent, not saying a word as they occupied the Aves. In passing, however, they left a noise inside Lear’s
head like a fluttering of wings.
A pair of troopers stormed toward the access hatch to the flight deck. The hatch was sealed, and either they didn’t know this or didn’t think to proceed further, because they halted and took flanking positions on either side.
Those surrounding the crew began moving outside, herding them as they went. The largest trooper was not much taller than Lear, and it felt uncomfortably like being gang-pressed by chunky juveniles.
When they were outside the ship, where one Merid stood apart from the others. Lear supposed him –
or her – to be the leader. The leader Merid looked over them, up and down. Lear tried to meet its eyes, but a helmet shielded them.
“Who is your … Regulator?” the leader Merid asked.
“If you mean who is the commander, I am,” Lear answered. “Executive Tyro Commander Goneril Lear, of the planet Republic.”
“I have been instructed to bring you before our Regulators. They will issue your instructions, is that understood?”
“Instructions?”
“Instructions: Commands, orders, charges, mandates, the course of activity you will follow.”
“I know what the word means. However…”
“I am also instructed to select one of you for a physical examination by the Regulator Physicians.” For a moment, no one spoke. Then, the leader pointed to Halliburton and barked a command in some unintelligible language. Lear interposed. “I can not release him without assurance that he will not be harmed.”
The lead Merid stood stockstill. There was a distant whisper of fluttering wings in Lear’s head. Then, four Merids moved forward and took positions beside each of the crew. Lear stood her ground. “I request either myself or the woman on my left (which was Taurus) to accompany…” There was a sharp prick on her upper arm and then shadows swam across her eyes, her body weight became too much to support, and the scene faded to black.
Inside Prudence
From inside the number two lifepod, Phil Redfire was watching a chronometer count off the seconds.
Thirty minutes after the Merids had left with Lear, Taurus, Halliburton, and Partridge, he whispered a command. “Do it, now.”
There was a deafening crack and a stench of ozone as Prudence let loose with a massive electrostatic discharge. As the blue-white cloud of energy blossomed around the ship, the people in and around her were snapped into the air, bodies jerking as though the bones were popping out of their sockets. Then they dropped into states of unconsciousness, which Redfire knew would be either permanent or temporary depending on how close they were to the discharge points.
Redfire unsealed the airlock and stepped back into the cabin, leading with the pulse weapon strapped to his right forearm. One of the Merids had fallen just a couple meters away. Redfire knelt to examine the body. The black armor would probably resist a ballistic round, although, upon close examination, the gear looked badly fitted and uncomfortable.
Redfire pulled the Merid’s helmet off and examined the visor that had fronted the trooper’s eyes. A tiny display, a targeting device, glowed pale green within. Odyssey weapons used something similar, but remotely linked to the optic nerve with no external lens. He was putting the helmet down again when he noticed the being’s head featured two large egg-shaped lobes. Curious, he opened the front of his victim’s armor, to see a hairless and nipple-less torso. He examined a limb and discovered their hands featured three elongated fingers and a fourth tiny, almost vestigial, digit. “Not quite human,” he muttered.
Redfire gingerly removed the trooper’s weapon and examined it. The device looked like it used superheated plasma as its projectile. Superheated plasma would blast a messy hole in a victim, leaving seared flesh all around it. You might die, or you might wish you were dead from the agonizing pain.
Either way, superheated plasma weapons were to be feared.
He spent another moment looking at the pale, lifeless face. Had they really traveled 5.8 x 10^14
kilometers just to get in a shooting match?
“Shithead,” Redfire cursed the dead Merid, using an ancient, crude, seldom-used Sapphirean epithet.
The hatch to the flight deck hissed open. Redfire raised his pulse weapon. Driver jumped back when he saw the gun pointed at his chest and raised his own in response. “Whoa – don’t shoot! It’s me!” Redfire exhaled. “I can see that.” Slowly, each lowered their arm. “Where were you?”
“When I saw them charge the ship, I sealed the command deck and hid in the forward head.” Redfire rose and marched toward the flight deck, motioning for Driver to follow. He sat down in the tactical officer’s chair and activated the monitors. Inside the ship were a total of eight fallen Merids, perhaps eight more outside.
“They’ll have reinforcements here before long,” Redfire said. “Can you fly us out of here?”
“Maybe. I can reverse course and go out the way we came… if the aperture we flew through is still open. I didn’t detect any kind of hatch on the way in.”
They heard a pounding from underneath the ship. Redfire raised his pulse weapon and gestured for silence. Sounds were coming from the forward cargo bay, sounds of someone trying to get into the cabin.
They left the flight deck and jumped below. Suddenly, the floor cargo access hatch broke open. Redfire and Driver thrust out their weapons at Eddie Roebuck, who came climbing up through the floor. As soon as he saw the weapons, he promptly dove back into the cargo bay.
Driver had come within a quiver of firing. Redfire hissed, “Kumba yah! What are you doing in there?” Eddie Roebuck’s fingertips appeared above the aperture, followed slowly by his hands and arms, which were raised over his head. Eddie cautiously re-emerged, his eyes huge. “I was grabbing a snooze in the cargo hold. Did I miss anything?”
Redfire reached out and pulled Roebuck onto the deck. Roebuck looked around at the Merids scattered inside the cabin. “Krishna, are those assols dead?”
“Za,” Redfire answered. “Some of them, anyway.”
“What happened?”
“I killed them with an electrostatic discharge. The cargo bay was insulated, or you’d be dead, too.”
“What did you do that for?”
“Because they frosted me.” Redfire answered. “Keep that in mind.”
“Crude.” Roebuck looked around. “Where did those assols come from?”
“They’re Merids invaded the ship. They took Taurus, Partridge and that other guy…”
“Halliburton.”
“…and Lear.”
“Where did they take them?”
“We haven’t figured that out, yet.” Redfire frowned and gave Eddie Roebuck a long, hard look. “You’re a technician, right?”
“Za.”
Redfire turned over the Merids and ripped open the pack on his back. There was some kind of device inside, which he cracked open and handed to Eddie. “Study the circuitry pattern on this; we might need to hot-wire something if we stick around…”
“What do you mean if we stay? Are we stuck here?” Roebuck asked. He looked plaintively to Driver.
“They have Lear, Partridge, Taurus, and Halliburton,” Redfire answered.
“We can’t stay,” Eddie said. “I mean, that’s just, I mean, look at these assols.” He gestured at the floor.
“This is definitely, definitely not a welcoming committee.”
Redfire answered. “You can stay behind in the ship if you want, but I’m going out there. Just bear in mind two things. First, we have better weapons than they do. Second, they don’t know we’re here yet, but they will. And third …”
“You said two things.”
“I lied. The third thing is, I’m the one who took care of our friendly guards here. Now, do you want to stay on this ship alone, or would you rather take your chances with me?”
“That’s like asking a man if he wants a punch in the mouth or a punch in the gut.” Roebuck looked to Driver. “Help me out, beauty.”
“I’ll lock down the s
hip so nobody will be able to get in after we go,” Driver said to Redfire, without looking at Roebuck.
“Krishna,” said Eddie. “I’ve been recruited to the Suicide Squad.” Meridian – another level of the Arcology
Halliburton was awakened – torn from unconsciousness – to find himself in an octagonal room constructed of bone-colored slabs of rock that sweated rusty beads of water. Above him was a black octagonal panel.
He felt cold metal, and realized he was lying naked on a metal table. Each of his arms was secured to one arm of this T-shaped table with bands of thick plastic material. Sharp metal instruments were arrayed around it. Two white-robed attendants, faces covered by masks, stood on either side of him.
His mind was sharp enough to feel panic. A medical examination was a completely reasonable procedure, but those instruments did not look like examination instruments. There were too many sharp blades. He began to struggle against the bonds “What are you doing? Let me go!” From above, a sharp, loud, incomprehensible command was issued. “Let go of me,” he cried out.
One of the attendants looked up toward the black octagonal panel and said something. An answer came down. Halliburton supposed it was a voice, though it sounded like like claws scraping against the side of a box
“Who are you?” Halliburton cried up at the source of the voice. “What are you doing to me?” Two more attendants appeared. “Please,” Halliburton begged as they attached some kind of sensors to his chest, torso, and groin. “Please, please … What are you doing to me?” But they were like automatons, and he sensed his words were not even registering.
The horrid sound came again.
One of the attendants selected a small, very sharp scalpel from the array of instruments, raised it to Halliburton’s arm and sliced out a patch of skin. Halliburton screamed. Several nearby monitors went from flat-line to agitation.
The monitoring instruments are working satisfactorily.
Proceed to level 1.
The Physician Regulators menials put small metal hooks on the specimen’s jaw, which held it open as widely as it would go. Then an instrument was inserted, and six teeth were removed in rapid succession.
