He read the posting and rubbed his eyes. It meant going back to Earth today. That was something he’d rather have skipped.
His eyes danced over the job posting, which mentioned Keystone traits. They were interested in people who could move quickly or soak up physical punishment. Keystones had been a common occurrence in the world for less than five days, and already they were sought for employment. Someone somewhere was ahead of the curve.
Deklan wasn’t resistant to injury as the posting requested, but his form of rapid healing would probably get the job done. Grumbling to himself, he indicated interest in a contract and listed his Keystone ability.
Next he decided to track Michael down and see how he was reacting to the Terra Rings.
Almost instantly a voice-only communication line was established. Michael sounded excited. “Deklan, you’re awake. You need to see this tree.”
“Tree?” Deklan had forgotten all about the tree.
“The redwood that your mother planted. It’s huge!”
“Right. Yes. Where are you?”
“I’m standing on one of its branches.”
“Why?”
“I needed to get out. Not having wings was really bothering me, and the parklands are nice and big. I don’t have to worry about my claustrophobia in here.”
Deklan didn’t want to talk about the tree or the parklands. “I’ve just tried to sign up to head back to Earth,” he said.
There was a silence before Michael replied, “You’ve done what?”
“Do a job search on your Uplink. There’s a massive recruiting drive for Keystones from the Rings to be part of rescue operations.”
“After everything we did to get off Earth, you’re just going right back down?”
“This job comes with a ticket back up.”
Michael’s voice turned quiet and suspicious. “Why are you telling me?”
Deklan put his face in his hands and sighed a few times before answering. “Who else was I going to tell? Besides, if your claustrophobia is already getting to you, you might enjoy helping find people and bringing them to ships.” Deklan waited a good thirty seconds for Michael to answer.
“Maybe, but I’ve been looking into the other types of habitats we used to have. Did you know that, other than the Terra Rings and Dyson Rings, most of the habitats were spinning cylinders?”
Deklan knew that fact but didn’t see its relevance. “Sure,” he replied.
Michael’s voice grew more enthusiastic. “They’d be perfect for me. Even in a parkland the ceiling is close, but in one of those I’d be able to fly as much as on Earth.”
“Michael, they’re all gone.”
Michael’s voice became a little sheepish. “Yeah, but you know they’re going to build more.”
“Maybe, but if you’re already pining for more space, why not come to Earth now? Building a new habitat is going to take a long time.”
After another protracted silence Michael replied, “Send me the posting.”
Relieved that he was going to have some company on his trip down, Deklan thought of calling Susan. He felt reticent because she was so much more imposing now. It helped that they’d shared near-death experiences, she by that unsettling and scary shadow-man, Stalker, and he by, well, bleeding out again and again.
Connecting his Uplink to the screen in his room, he called her and watched, still amazed as a luminous face filled his display.
Susan’s sunny tone matched her appearance. “Hey, Corpsicle! You’re up. I didn’t want to wake you. There’s so much to do up here. So many people are scared of animals for what they might do that the shelters are full, and I’ve been volunteering. It’s sad, but at the same time it’s fantastic. I was just playing with a puppy that has three tongues. Somehow they all fit in his mouth. One tongue is like a normal dog’s; another is rougher; and the third is kind of silky. The owners were terrified that the puppy could be dangerous, though I have no idea how. Anyway I’ve been helping out the best that I can. Sorry, I’m not letting you get a word in edgewise. How are you enjoying your first day off?”
“A three-tongued puppy?” asked Deklan, derailed from his train of thought.
“Well, that’s the fun one. Some of the other deformities are more alarming, such as the python-cat or the octopus-monkey. But enough about me. What’s up with you?”
Deklan tried to keep his tone noncommittal. “There are job postings for relief workers to help serve as crew members on craft going between the Rings and Earth.”
“Yes,” replied Susan. “I’ve heard people talking about that.”
Deklan plunged onward. “Well, I was thinking of going.” He hesitated for a second. “Actually I’ve already asked Michael to go with me.”
Susan sounded shocked. “What? We just got here, and you nearly didn’t make it. Why go back?”
Deklan thought of Tommy. “Because I don’t think that a lot of people will want to help, and I feel bad for having left friends behind. I need to do this.”
Deklan watched as Susan turned to give him her full attention. Her eyes seemed to be searching his face to determine his full reasoning. She nodded, more to herself than to him. “Go if you have to.”
Deklan was surprised to realize that he was disappointed. “You’re not going to talk me out of it?”
Susan spread her hands wide. “It’s you. What could possibly happen to you? Just try to make sure that you don’t get Michael hurt too badly.”
“I don’t have a great track record there.”
Susan gave him a million-watt smile of encouragement. “You’ll do fine. Call me before you head down.”
CHAPTER THREE
Contract Accepted
Deklan finished chatting with Susan and decided to prepare himself for his upcoming venture. His time with Slate had left him with a desire for some form of personal armor. His preference was a microfiber bodysuit. Just because he could recover from ugly injuries didn’t mean that he enjoyed the experience.
A quick search located a mall near his resort hotel. Deklan was in the minority there in that he was looking for advanced personal protection, and he was still shopping when Michael’s face appeared on his Uplink.
“I’m coming with you,” announced Michael.
Deklan felt a surge of relief. He hadn’t realized how nervous he was about the return journey to Earth. “You’ve signed up?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Great. I’m preparing for our little jaunt. Have you ever worn microfiber before?”
“No.”
“I don’t know what sort of gear they’ll outfit us with, and perhaps this is an unnecessary purchase on my part, but I doubt that there’s going to be anything standard that accommodates your wings. If you meet me here, we can get you a shirt altered to allow for wing growth.”
“Where are you?”
Deklan flicked a few icons on his Uplink and sent him the store location.
About ten minutes later Michael walked into the store. His body language was off, and he was twitchy. “What’s bothering you?” Deklan asked.
Michael drummed his fingers. “I want my wings back.”
“Well, this is step one. Now let’s find something that’ll fit you. These things need to contour to our bodies like sheaths to work properly.” Deklan gestured at his own outfit. From neck to toe he was covered in overlapping layers of dark grey microfiber, which stretched like spandex over his well-muscled form. “The store owner said that they can do alterations here. Apparently they’re occasionally necessary for people with body modifications, or for personal reasons.”
Michael arched an eyebrow and tilted his chin to the left. “Personal reasons?”
“A few years back one lady wanted a pouch in which she could carry her dog. People are strange.” Deklan shook his head. “In any event I’m thinking that for you all we need to do is to cut a pair of ovoids out of the back for your wings to grow through. That should work, right?”
Michael looked at him a
shade uncertainly. “Yes, I guess so.”
“Are you okay with unfurling your wings in here so that lines can be drawn on your back for alterations?”
Michael took in a short breath and nodded with his eyes closed.
“Great. Well, then, time to spend more money that I don’t have.”
Deklan stood by Michael and watched as a laser cut through the back panel of what was to be his shirt. Michael had chosen a similar weave to Deklan’s. After a small but powerful laser seared through the material, the store owner lifted the pair of ovoids out of the fabric before handing the shirt to Michael.
“Moment of truth. Let’s see if it works,” said Deklan.
Michael took off his shirt and slipped on the microfiber, wriggling to find the most comfortable fit and rolling his shoulders a few times to settle it in place.
“Think you can grow your wings out slowly so that if there’s a problem we’ll know ahead of time?” asked Deklan.
“That’s doubtful,” Michael replied before holding his breath and slumping his shoulders forward.
Deklan watched in silent fascination as Michael’s wings expanded outwards. It was like watching time-lapse photography in real time. Two small bulges appeared on Michael’s back that quickly reticulated. They would have resembled the arms of a praying mantis if they hadn’t been sprouting white feathers.
Michael knelt on the ground with his head cradled in his hands and his fully grown wings spread open over him.
Deklan hurried over to look at the gap between the base of the wings and the microfiber. It wasn’t big, but Deklan concluded that it was likely to give Michael room in the event that his wing growth wasn’t always consistent or that the shirt wasn’t sitting on him perfectly. “You’re good,” he declared.
Before Deklan had finished speaking, Michael retracted his wings and again looked like a normal person.
Whatever self-congratulatory feelings Deklan might have had were headed off by an incoming call on his Uplink. “Oh, incidentally, Michael, I haven’t yet mentioned this journey to my mother. Now’s probably the best time to tell her.” Deklan let his Uplink connect. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, Deklan,” she trilled. “The shopping up here is wonderful.” Tricia’s beaming face filled the screen. “You need to see this. I had no idea that they had shops like this.” Deklan was treated to a panoramic view of the store where his parents were. Tropical flowers and brightly colored leaves were everywhere. More interesting than anything else was Brice Tobin’s facial expression. It promised that Deklan was going to regret his suggestion earlier in the day.
“Glad you’re having a good time, Mom. As just a little side note, nothing for you to worry about or anything, I’m headed back down to Earth in a few hours.”
Tricia’s euphoria was shattered, and she treated her son to a disapproving glare. “Deklan Tobin, what are you thinking? We nearly lost you coming up here. I refuse to face that possibility again!”
Deklan held his Uplink farther away from his face than usual and turned the volume down a little. “Mom, people there need help. I abandoned everyone to get you and Dad. This is my chance to, if not make it right, at least make it better.”
Tricia looked no less annoyed from a distance, and her next words were louder despite the reduction in volume. “I don’t like it, and I don’t think you should do it.”
Deklan struck a note of contrition. “Duly noted.”
Narrowed eyes accompanied Tricia’s next words. “So it’s agreed?”
“Absolutely.”
Her face relaxed. “Oh, good.”
“Talk to you later, Mom.”
Michael eyed Deklan, the set of his jaw indicating deep suspicion. “What was that?”
Deklan brushed imaginary lint off the front of his microfiber. “She thinks that I agreed not to go down.”
Michael thought about that. “What did you actually agree to?”
“I agreed that she didn’t like it.”
“She hasn’t wised up to your tricks by now?”
“She’ll develop a sense of outrage fairly soon.”
An involuntary chuckle escaped from Michael’s throat. “You must have been an unscrupulous lawyer.”
Deklan shrugged. “Sometimes that was part and parcel of the job. Never mind, though. Shall we go to the job site?”
If there had been less urgency to the assignment, Deklan was certain that there would have been at least a week of training and at least one interview before he was entrusted to work on a spacecraft. As it was, he and Michael were among a group of five hundred who watched a presentation before being given uniforms and ship assignments.
Michael preceded Deklan into the spacecraft. They along with two women, Jamie Beal and Quentin Avery, were the support crew for their ship. The craft was new and christened The Madeline. She was capable of holding five hundred passengers and was equipped with rudimentary medical facilities and emergency rations. Her main fuselage was filled with rows of seats that somehow suggested this was nothing more than an ordinary excursion. Pristine fabric and materials were everywhere, the fresh scent of a newly commissioned ship being the dominant impression. It occurred to Deklan to wonder whether this ship was part of the fleet Cheshire claimed to have built.
Even Deklan’s microfiber-free uniform was new. Black with a purple right shoulder and a crest from the relief effort emblazoned on the left, the uniform had stiff creases from where it had been unfolded.
Michael’s uniform was similar, though he had two large cutouts in the shoulders for his wings.
Avery wore the same attire as Deklan and Michael, but Beal had a red shoulder emblem that designated her as a doctor. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, she looked fresh out of school. It was hard to believe that she was already licensed to practice.
The voice of their pilot, Mitchell Ashton, came over the com system. “Strap yourselves in, lads and ladies. We’re releasing the docking clamps now.”
Deklan and Michael both strapped in as a dull clanging noise signaled their ship’s release from the Ring.
“Our destination is Houston, Texas. Sit tight. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
As the artificial gravity provided from the centrifugal force vanished, loose straps in the cabin began to float. There was no feeling of acceleration or movement, just a knowledge of movement. Deklan’s attention wandered to his Uplink, which he still wore as a watch over his microfiber underclothes.
The news had taken a break from the wormhole and Keystone activities to report that in the last few minutes there had been a breach on Ring Two that had resulted in several hundred people’s being ejected into space before the fail-safes kicked in properly. Performing a rapid search, Deklan ascertained that the breach had been over ten thousand miles distant from where his parents had been shopping. It was troubling news, though. There were supposed to be redundant systems to prevent such occurrences. He couldn’t decide whether the report made him feel more or less safe on The Madeline.
As Deklan’s mind churned over the issue, gravity returned, gently at first and then with greater force. They had entered Earth’s atmosphere at a speed that gave the experience an immediacy a slow rise up or down a space elevator could never match. The increasing g-forces pushed Deklan into his chair, his fingertips making ten indentations in the seat’s fabric. Around him the shuttle shook with sudden turbulence.
“This was a terrible idea,” grunted Michael.
Deklan glanced over at him. Beads of sweat ran down Michael’s face, and his eyes were scrunched closed, his entire face a mask of tension. He too gripped his armrests as the cabin tossed them around.
Deklan chuckled. “How are you, of all people, not a good flier?”
Michael’s cheeks puffed out as he answered, “It’s different with wings.”
Deklan scanned the large cabin to see how the others were doing. His eyes settled on Beal. The young woman bothered Deklan, though he couldn’t say why. Beal’s bright smile showed no hint that
she was on a spaceship thundering through the atmosphere. The only concession she made to the turbulence was a hair tie.
Deklan watched her with envy even as his biceps flexed to hold him in place. How did she manage to look so comfortable? His stomach lurched when they hit a more violent patch of turbulence.
Michael moaned quietly in the seat next to him. “How did you talk me into this?” he mumbled.
“You were perched at the top of a tree.” Just then the cabin jerked to the left. The motion snapped Deklan’s mouth shut, nearly costing him the tip of his tongue. “And bored out of your mind,” he added. “Besides, I wanted the company.”
“I’m never doing you another favor again,” replied Michael.
“You needed a job as much as I did.”
Michael shook his head in a series of sharp turns. “No, I’m definitely not as broke as you are.” He paused to swallow. “No more favors for you.”
“I’ll say it again. You’re getting paid.”
“Deklan, I’m wearing a microfiber vest that cost almost as much as we’re making today.”
Beal glanced over at the two of them. “Microfiber?” she chided. “For this little catch-and-release job? I’d have expected a little more pluck from the two of you. Deklan, aren’t you supposed to be immortal or something? I read an article about you as being the most advanced case of Lazarus Syndrome ever seen.”
Deklan groaned. He was probably almost as famous as Calm now. The whole world was filled with new Keystones, and he had to be the one that came back from the dead for everyone to see. “I’m not ready to take that on faith yet,” he said.
“Well, whatever you are, I’m strictly vanilla, and so’s Avery. We’re not wearing microfiber.”
“Call me paranoid. Things were hectic in Boa Vista.”
Beal’s tone was one of bemusement as she answered, “I was there. I don’t remember it as being so bad.”
“It wasn’t so bad?” Deklan asked in disbelief. “I got attacked by psychotic Keystones and watched one cut a man’s hand off.”
Beal’s face was untroubled. “Seems like you made it out okay.”
Keystones: Tau Prime Page 2
