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The URANUS Code (Citadel World Book #1)

Page 6

by Kir Lukovkin

Rick felt completely empty. He decided to visit his quarters to get a warm jacket and some other things. Kyoto and Aurora were standing in front of his door. Both the old man and the girl looked worried.

  “What happened?”

  “There are interruptions in the heating of the children's levels. They switched it off for half the day today, and it immediately got cold. I gave your little sister some of my rags. They're clean. I hope you've nothing against that?”

  “Of course not. And how are you doing?”

  “It's still all right,” Kyoto smiled. It is a couple of degrees lower. Some of our people died, but they wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway. I warm myself up with moonshine. There are rumors that they are preparing to downsize, so they can save on energy. The Commune will contract from fifty levels to forty. How much more...”

  “Listen, I need to go on duty, so make yourselves comfortable, get warm, and all that. We'll can chat later.”

  “No problem. You know me, friend Rick.”

  “Don't leave, Rick...” Aurora suddenly started to cry.

  “Why?” he bent down towards her. The girl clung to him, hiding under the open flaps of his jacket and hugged him.

  “I don't know. I'm scared.”

  Rick stroked her hair.

  “Don't be silly. Everything will be fine. I will come back from patrol soon, and uncle Kyoto will stay with you for now. He will feed you and play with you. Won't you?”

  “Of course.”

  Rick exchanged glances with the old man. Kyoto shooed the girl into the room and came out into the corridor.

  “Something is going on in the sector,” Kyoto muttered. “Something bad. A child has gone missing. A girl. No one has seen her, and they can't find her anyway. It's a child, so it's understandable. She can't fight back. Old people like me aren't that strong either. Neither are the women... Be careful, Rick. I saw how a patrolman was walking through a production facility and told off a worker for something, so the worker spat on his boots. And then, the patrolman did nothing, because everyone immediately stopped working. They were looking at him. The idiot had gone into the production facility all alone.”

  Rick nodded.

  “Here, take this. No one is going to search you,” Kyoto shoved a rolled up piece of paper at him.

  “What for?”

  “I'm telling you, take it.”

  Rick put the piece of paper in his pocket and left without saying goodbye. His heart was heavy. He could feel the eyes of the old man upon his back.

  After joining the guard detail, Rick stood by the south entrance to the lesser circular for his allotted time. Lost in thought, he watched the empty and dark space ahead of him. While the features of the corridor could still be made out nearby, total darkness began further ahead. Darkness and cold. The darkness surrounded them on all sides, crawling towards the sector and biting into everyone that lived there with its ice-cold needles. It was winning, and humanity was losing.

  And no Machine God could help them. Rick was standing at his post, remembering the events of the day and thinking. He was deep in thought, unhurriedly working through the ideas in his head which were gradually forming a unified picture. The picture still lacked many details, but the general outlines were already coming through. It was enough.

  When the shift ended, he reported to the senior patrolman in the proper order, but then went along the Porch towards the Chorda instead of returning home. For some reason, he no longer had any fear of the Expanse. As he passed by the hole in the Porch, he slowed down. He saw something shine on the floor. Rick bent down and picked up a strange object. Then he remembered that he saw it in the ear of the captured girl when he helped her free her hand from the clamps.

  By the time that Rick reached the Chorda, the cold of the Expanse had started to sneak under his clothing and bite at his face. He went out onto the balcony. He looked at the sealed gates of the sector—the same type of gate was open ten levels above. Rick calmly put his baton on the floor, walked five paces away from it, sat down, pulled in his legs and began to wait. It was getting colder. That meant that night was coming. Somewhere, the old man and his sister were waiting for him, but there were more important things to do.

  Rick waited, ready for anything.

  The main thing was not to fall asleep. Otherwise, he would never wake up.

  The great Chorda silently floated in front of him, piercing the Expanse. Where did it begin? And where did it end? The Catechism, which was the main teaching of the Faith, stated that it was infinite. But what if that was not true? Dangerous questions. Thus did men fall into heresy.

  Part of the Chorda was lit up with lights from the sector levels, but the rest was hidden in impenetrable darkness. Rick rose. The cold had thoroughly frozen him and it would be good to get a little warmer. Very slowly, he approached the edge of the balcony, looking above. His eyes got used to the dark. The Chorda stretched far out for several dozen levels and then disappeared, consumed by the darkness. Rick lay down on the edge and looked down, going numb with fear. The Chasm was truly bottomless. He thanked the darkness for hiding what was inside, for it would send any mortal man insane.

  “It's rather deep over there,” someone's voice said.

  Rick jerked himself away from the edge. The baton! Too far. He was such an idiot. This would be the most inane death in the history of the Commune! A man stood on the edge nearby. He was holding a torch with one hand, and held on to a thin steel cable with the other.

  “Who are you?” Rick whispered. He wanted to shout, but his voice betrayed him.

  “My name is Ahmed Cormancour.”

  “Two names? Are you a man or a spirit?”

  “I'm just as human as you are.”

  Rick looked at his youthful face with wonder. It looked like the man was young, but his features were different to those of the people of the Commune—he had bushy eyebrows, thick lips and a large nose. His skin was so dark that it seemed black.

  “Did you come from the otherworlds?”

  “Yes,” Ahmed replied.

  “What for?”

  “We are looking for something.”

  “We? You are not alone?”

  “I'm alone right now. Since your people captured my friends,” Ahmed eased the tension on the cable a little, “I saw everything. Which is why I decided to talk to you.”

  That meant that his eyes did not play tricks on him.

  “Why are you looking over there? Take your stick, I'm not going to touch you.”

  Rick picked up the weapon. It made him sure of himself again, and he calmed down a little.

  “The trial of your people took place today. One of them got sent into the darkness.”

  Ahmed's face fell.

  “What about the others?”

  “They are waiting for their turn. Tomorrow and the day after.”

  “Oh no, please, not that!” the newcomer whispered desperately.

  “You speak our language,” Rick pointed out.

  “We have a common tongue. Does that surprise you?”

  “I didn't expect...”

  “Yes, I forget. Your sector has lived in isolation for so long, that you started to consider yourselves the only people in the world.”

  “Our sector?” Rick's surprise knew no bounds. “What are you talking about, barbarian?”

  “Barbarian?” Ahmed chuckled, “So that's what you call us.”

  “That's what we call everyone that lives in the Expanse.”

  “I see. What is your name?”

  “Rick.”

  “Can I trust you, Rick?”

  Rick had completely forgotten about his duties and his status. He had to arrest the barbarian now, and escort him to prison. He hesitated, and Ahmed noticed this.

  “I shouldn't expect anything good from you, is that right?”

  “You're right. But I,” Rick found it hard to say the words, “have changed my decision.”

  “Why?” Ahmed asked with genuine curiosity.

&
nbsp; “I don't want the girl to step into the chasm. Or that barbarian, either. You don't look like infiltrators.”

  Ahmed looked over Rick for a minute. Ahmed's wondrous torch was burning by itself and required no cranking. His face did not show any anger or low cunning. He looked Rick straight in the eye. Barbarians did not behave like that. But maybe this was some sort of trick, or some kind of game? Rick was wracked with doubt. Then, he made his final decision—let whatever happens, happen. He lowered his baton.

  “Thank you,” Ahmed let go of the cable and proffered his free hand to Rick, “You are the first of the ones from below that it's been possible to have a normal conversation with.”

  “No,” Rick chuckled, “we are on the higher levels. The lower levels begin below level twenty.”

  “What did you say?” Ahmed's lips curled into a brilliant smile, “Level twenty?”

  “What's so funny?”

  “Rick! Our unit came from sector K — Kappa. It's on floor seven hundred and fifty and above.”

  7

  TWO MEN walked along the radial corridor of the prison level—a prisoner and a guard. Everyone that passed them looked at the prisoner with great curiosity—they had never ever seen a person with such dark skin before. The patrolman was the personification of tension and readiness, ready to use his weapon at any moment were the prisoner to attempt an escape. The small convoy walked almost to the end of the corridor and stopped by the doors of the Commandant's chamber.

  Rick knocked. The door took its time to open, and a sleepy looking gaoler stuck his head outside.

  “What'd you want?”

  “Brother Shaw, I caught yet another rat on the Porch,” Rick pointed at the prisoner.

  The gaoler stared at Ahmed.

  “Where did you dig him out?”

  “He fell on me from above by himself. He was going down a metal thread like a spider. That's when I got him. The scumbag tried to escape, but I calmed him down some.”

  Rick poked the prisoner in the side with his baton for added effect. The gaoler woke up completely at last and took a combat knife out of his belt.

  “So, then. Very good. Wonderful! Well done, Rick. Thanks, I will take him to the Committee member on duty.”

  “That's fine, brother. It's just that...” Rick looked at Ahmed warily, “This devil is strong as a bull, you know? What if something happens...”

  The gaoler sized up Ahmed with a glance and nodded.

  “Yes, you're right. You can never be too careful. Come with me.”

  They walked back along the radial corridor towards the stairway. It was late. However, every floor was still being patrolled. They turned and started to climb the stairway. However, as soon as they passed just one flight of stairs, Ahmed tripped and fell prone upon the ground.

  “What's wrong?” barked Shaw.

  “My leg,” Ahmed whined with such pain in his voice that it seemed that he had lost the ability to walk forever.

  The gaoler bent down and put a knife to Ahmed's throat.

  “You're not going to fool me with that trick! Get up, you little rat, or I'm going to break your other leg!”

  Rick quickly raised his hand and struck Shaw on the back of his head. The gaoler made a noise like a leaking ventilation shaft. Rick hit him again, and Shaw fell on top of Ahmed. Breathing heavily, Rick helped his accomplice get out from under the massive body of the gaoler.

  “What next?”

  Rick panicked. His position in the Commune had completely collapsed and there was no way back. But immediately after, he felt as if a great weight had lifted from his soul and a great clarity about what to do next entered his mind. He immediately composed himself, quickly searched Shaw and found ring of keys. Together with Ahmed, they dragged the body to the wall and somehow forced it behind a radiator. One hand constantly kept falling out and refusing to bend.

  “Enough! We have no more time,” Rick gave Ahmed a shove. Someone could appear from above or below at any moment. Rick took Ahmed back into the corridor and led him to the cells where the barbarians were kept, continuing to pretend to escort him. A convoy was patrolling with their back to them at the far end of the corridor. Some prisoner was singing a gloomy song. They reached the cell they needed. Even though Rick did not know how to read, he had no problem with counting—cells eleven and twelve, if you came from the direction of the stairway. Here they were. Rick stared at the ring of keys in confusion, going through them in his hands. The keys looked exactly the same.

  “Look at the number and look for it on the key,” Ahmed whispered.

  Rick obediently started to look for it. He went through a dozen keys, but the right looking one appeared at last. Rick calmly put it in the lock and opened the cell. They entered. The girl should have been in the cell, but there was a man there. Not a barbarian. They had made a mistake!

  The prisoner expectantly looked straight ahead, past Rick.

  “Who are you?” Rick could not resist blurting.

  The prisoner made a gurgling sound with his throat. Rick looked at him closer, as the prisoner seemed to be familiar. He got up from the cot and blindly started at the light.

  “Have you come to kill me?” he wheezed at last.

  “No.”

  “So why have you come?”

  Rick warily approached him. But the prisoner did not turn his head towards him. He really was blind. The man's face was covered with a gray beard up to his very cheekbones, his teeth were so stained that they looked dark brown and he smelled of sewage. A broken shard of a man.

  And that was when Rick remembered. A family used to live near to them when Rick was just a little boy a long time ago, probably fifteen years back. The father was a rigger and the mother worked on the farms, as they do. They had a son, who was of an age with Rick. Then one day, the family was struck by misfortune—their little boy fell off the balcony and severely injured his back. The healer said that he would not be able to walk. Never. Because his spine had been broken. The father then went to the priests and implored them to pray to the Machine God to have mercy on his family. The priests listened to him, promised to pray, but this was beyond their powers. The rigger held his ground and spent day upon day visiting the Committee. The Warden kept meeting him, but did nothing in the end. Then, someone whispered to him that a cure could be found beyond the barrier, in the darkness of the Expanse. Without a second thought, the rigger prepared himself and left the Commune. His wife used to visit Rick's mother to sit at the table and talk. She cried and complained about her fate, and Rick's mother calmed her down, while Rick played with that boy. Months passed without news of the husband, and everyone decided that he had perished in the Expanse forever. His wife somehow got used to her sons disability and made her peace with it.

  But the husband returned. Mother Darkness released him from her grasping embrace. He did not just manage to survive—he brought some sort of complex device that had to be applied to the back of his son. The Warden personally descended to their level to visit their room to watch and see how the unusual device would work. The boy was turned to lie face down and a silver disk was placed on his back. The disk started to hum and glow red. Everyone watched silently. Once the disk turned green, the father pinched the boy on the heel and he yelled from the pain—his legs obeyed him once again. The Warden left without a word.

  The returning rigger started to tell tales about the incredible things in the Expanse. He swore on the his most sacred things that he was telling the truth, even though it was at odds with the Holy Writ. His fellows from the commune listened to him with interest, but thought he was insane. The rigger came back to work, but he started to go blind after only a week had passed. Why this happened, no one knew. And then he disappeared. Everyone decided that he went beyond the barrier again. Only his grieving wife denied this, because the wondrous disk-shaped device that cured her son had also disappeared.

  Rick could not remember what happened to them next.

  “What do you want?” the blind man
asked.

  “We are looking for a girl. She should have been in this cell,” Rick replied.

  “A girl,” the prisoner muttered. “A girl.”

  “Let's go, we won't get much sense from him,” Ahmed called.

  Rick shared his opinion. They moved towards the door of the cell.

  “A girl. Screamed. Cried. Girl. They took her down the corridor. They said: he has ordered for her to be brought to him. They said: third time today... said they...”

  The muttering became unclear and turned into a series of whistling sounds.

  “I don't know about you, but I think I have worked it out,” Ahmed said, “Thank you.”

  “Have you been to the edge of the world?” asked the blind man. “I have. There is so much light there that it hurts your eyes. I still see that light...”

  “What light?”

  The prisoner did not answer—he lay down on the cot, turning his back to them. When they opened the door to go back into the corridor, he suddenly loudly declared, “The sun came from behind the cloud, and with its rays on me shone proud.”

  And then, the prisoner was gripped with a paroxysm of insane laughter, laughing so hard that he choked, turning it into a series of grunts. Ahmed and Rick had a look in the neighboring cell. The bearded barbarian was not there either. Without hesitation, the accomplices set off for the top level. That was where the rooms of the Committee members were located and where interrogations and court sessions were held. They played the same roles yet again. There were five patrolmen on the level—Rick even recognized a few of them, and nodded in greeting.

  “Where are they interrogating those barbarians?”

  “The ones with the girl? Over there,” they readily showed him. “Bringing them a third one?”

  “That's right!”

  They approached the office. A patrolman was standing at the entrance. Rick lied to him in the same way as he did to Brother Shaw the last time. The patrolman glanced at Ahmed curiously, saluted with his baton and said “I will report this now.”

  Then he disappeared behind the door. Rick felt that his heart was about to burst out of his chest and his palms became slippery with sweat.

 

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