Information Cloud: Science fiction and fantasy series (Tales of Cinnamon City Book 1)

by Peter James West

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  Gail lay on the floor until the pain had subsided. After a couple of minutes, she opened her eyes and grimaced.

  'That girl knows how to kick,' she said with a forced smile.

  Henson had been stronger than she remembered, but she had still enjoyed the fight. Climbing to her feet, she straightened her back and wiped blood from the corner of her mouth. Her ribs were probably going to be stiff for a day or two. Her back had more knots in it than she needed. Maybe she would have the medical droids check her out in case anything was broken, but not yet.

  Brinkman was struggling to his feet in the corridor outside. He looked groggy and confused. 'Shall I go after her?' he said.

  Thompson shook her head, rubbing her stomach with one hand. 'No. Let her go. This could still work to out our advantage.'

  Dilemmas

  Henry left Cafe Lyon with a bad case of indigestion. He blamed his condition on the appalling news feeds more than the synthesized food that he had eaten. He had hoped to stay long enough to untangle his thoughts about the guilds but recent events had forced his hand. He was left with few options and even less time.

  Gail Thompson had been buzzing him every hour. The longer he waited, the worse it would be when he finally gave her his report. Henry muttered to himself as he ambled slowly along the dirt street, heading back towards the towers. His rucksack felt heavy on his shoulders. He wondered what troubles he had packed for himself this time.

  His mind wandered as he walked. He remembered his father telling him to chase his troubles away before they could grow into monsters. He still wasn't sure how to go about it. Events had been moving so quickly lately.

  A lot of rumours had been circling around Central Command, many of them relating to the unusual behaviour of Major Rachel Henson. Henry had only met her a couple of times. Some of the things he had heard about her were starting to sound very interesting indeed. Everyone had their own theory about what it all meant. Henry had some theories of his own too. He hoped that he would be able to put them to the test, but he still hadn't had time to track down where she was.

  His network of contacts were extensive. It had taken the best part of twenty years to acquire them all. His eyes and ears were spread across all parts of the Orange Zone, and they didn't miss much, but they hadn't been able to tell him exactly where Henson was. At first he had been told that she was away on a combat operation, but another source had said that she was here in the city. They couldn't both be right. If she was in the city then she couldn't be too far away from Central Command. Perhaps he might find her after all?

  Henry made his way towards the White Spear, preparing his dreaded report to Gail Thompson as he walked. His feet moved slower with every step, delaying the inevitable as long as he could.

  Unwanted Advice

  Rachel walked across the Grand Plaza, heading for the business district. It would take twenty minutes to walk to the Mekinet News building from Tower Four. She considered requisitioning a roach or a Cage Carrier, but she thought a brisk walk might be just what she needed to help her unwind. She didn't want to be angry when she arrived at her destination. That wouldn't help her father at all.

  She was furious with Thompson for putting her in this position. She was upset about the callous way Thompson had spoken about her father, but she had to put all that aside now. Rachel had always known that Thompson could be a real bitch at times, but her complete lack of interest in her father's well-being had been both shocking and disturbing. Thompson had dropped several levels in Rachel's estimation, and after their fight, she was sure the feeling would be mutual. Had Thompson really ordered Brinkman to kill her? What had happened to procedure and protocols? Rachel was starting to doubt herself. Her memories of the events in Thompson's office didn't make any sense at all.

  Up ahead, she noticed a tall man with wide hips standing in a narrow side street. He moved back into the shadows when he saw her looking at him, but a moment later he popped his head out again. He had a round face and curious eyes. Rachel slowed her pace, checking her impact pistol as she walked. When she was a dozen paces away, the man stepped slowly into the street, wearing a garish blue robe with silver patterns around the sleeves and hem. His belly stretched the robe to its maximum girth, and his expression flickered between a smile and a frown as he fumbled with his fingers in front of himself. Rachel let go of her impact pistol and pursed her lips. She had seen this man before. He was one of the diplomats that hung around the White Spear, pretending to be useful. She had never had time for such people, and she was in no mood for his games now.

  'Major Henson,' he said, offering a half bow.

  A large, five-pointed star swung from a thick chain around his neck as he lowered his head. It had a garish colour to it, some kind of bronze or gold.

  Rachel shook her head and kept walking, 'I don't have time to talk, Willow. I'm on a combat operation.'

  'Here? In the city?'

  'It doesn't matter where. I'm on duty.'

  Willow looked confused. Rachel could almost hear his thoughts clicking like the cogs of an old clock. She walked away but she could hear his quick steps following behind her. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that his smile had grown in confidence, though she couldn't imagine what she had done to encourage him. Diplomats saw open doors where only stone walls stood before them.

  'I assure you, this will only take a minute of your time,' he said.

  'I don't have a minute,' Rachel said as she kept on walking.

  After a few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder again and saw that he was still following her. His eyes were now full of concern. He raised one hand to his mouth as though uncertain of what to say.

  'What is it?' Rachel said, slowing her pace again. She didn't have time for this.

  'What do you know about the Sand Lords?' Willow said.

  'What?' Rachel narrowed her eyes. 'Why do you try my patience, Willow? Have you nobody else to haunt?'

  'I wondered whether you might have read anything about them?'

  'Who has the time to read? I have more important things on my mind.'

  Willow walked alongside her, breathing heavily as he tried to keep pace, 'Reading is like breathing. Inhale the words and live a richer life.'

  'Very wise,' Rachel said, 'Now get out of my way. I need to be somewhere else.'

  'But you know something of them?'

  'Who? What business is this of mine. I have a daughter to raise and my duties to attend to. That is enough for me. Wisdom is for the restless, those with too much time on their hands.'

  'Did you ever meet Lord Colloran Hades? I read that he is a prophet and a lord, but he is not a Sand Lord. It is said that he is of pure blood. Do you know what that means?'

  Rachel shook her head. 'This means nothing to me. I haven't met any lords. I'm stationed at Beacon Station most of the time. We don't get many visitors out there - except the hostile kind. Why do you waste my time with this?'

  'I have read many digital volumes on the history of the Orange Zone. Some are most difficult to obtain.'

  'You're reading doesn't concern me,' Rachel increased her pace, but Willow followed close behind her, panting heavily with a thin film of sweat forming across his brow.

  'Did you know that some of the Sand Lords were dreamers? They saw visions in their sleep. The digital volumes are incomplete. They are based upon collections of ancient documents, some of which have been lost or damaged. I believe some have been purposefully removed.'

  Rachel tried to ignore him. 'I don't understand what you're saying. Come see me later if you really believe this is important, but right now I have to go. My father is in danger. Every minute I stay here talking to you is another minute lost. I have to go now.'

  Willow slowed his pace, 'I'm sorry, Rachel. I thought you would understand. I won't delay you any further.'

  Rachel turned and looked over her shoulder, surprised by the sadness in his voice. His eyes were full of sorrow that she couldn't begin to unde
rstand. She stopped and faced him, wondering what was wrong with him.

  'Some of the old scriptures talk of remarkable feats. They describe the Sand Lords as being more than mere men. There are passages that talk about the Sand Lords having a deep understanding of nature, and being able to control the forces around them. Sometimes when we look in the mirror, we don't see what everybody else can see. We only see what we believe ourselves to be. We see the mask that we have made for ourselves. It keeps us safe from others, and safe from ourselves, but there are times when we need to see beyond the mask, to see what is really there inside us.'

  'You mean well, Willow. I can see that much, but I have to leave now. I'm sorry.'

  Rachel turned and walked away. She quickened her pace, relieved to see that Willow didn't follow her this time. She tried to cast him from her mind but his voice rattled around inside her head. She wondered why he had stopped her, and why he had been waiting in the side street. Had he know she would be there? No. That wasn't possible. What had he been trying to tell her? His words floated on the surface of her mind as she walked.

  We only see what we believe ourselves to be.

  Worried about Rachel

  Walstone Forest was a foreboding place at this time of night. The darkness seemed to extend into infinity on all sides. Somewhere above him, he could sense the thick canopy blocking out the sky with its occasional twinkling stars. The air was thick with the smell of warm rain and damp leaves.

  Nick brushed a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that built up inside him. He couldn't help worrying about Rachel. He found himself tapping his jacket collar over and over, praying that she would answer.

  'Rachel? Are you back at Central Command yet?'

  'Commander Chambers—'

  'Never mind that. Where are you?'

  'I just left Thompson's office. It's over.'

  'How did it go?'

  'It could have gone better.'

  'Oh, Rachel. What have you done?'

  'Nothing.'

  'I wish I could believe you. Has she charged you with something?'

  'Not yet, but she will.'

  'Maybe I should have come back with you.'

  'You're not talking sense. I don't need looking after, Nick. Haven't you learnt that yet?'

  Nick hung onto his hurt feelings. Maybe calling her had been a bad idea. He considered shutting down the comms link, but something made him want to hold on for a little longer. Pushing his feelings aside, he tried to be objective and rational about the situation. It wasn't easy.

  'Can you do me a favour?' Rachel said.

  'What is it?'

  'Can you run a check on whether we have a file on anyone called Roy?'

  'That's not very specific. There'll be a lot of files matching that name.'

  'He's an old man with grey hair. I think he's tall. He wears a blue beret.'

  'Now that is specific. I can work with that. Blue beret is Kamari uniform. Are you sure about this?'

  'I don't know. I got the feeling that Thompson has some connection with him, and that she doesn't want anyone to know about it. I could be wrong. It was just a feeling I had.'

  Nick remained silent.

  'Aren't you going to ask me how I know?'

  'No.'

  'Thanks, Nick. You're one of the few people I can talk to about these things. Check if he's on file. I have a bad feeling about him.'

  'Okay. I'll get someone to check it out.'

  'Could you maybe not mention that it came from me?'

  'Why?'

  'I don't want to fill people's minds with questions. I'm not sure I'll know how to answer them.'

  'Okay. I'll say it came from an informer in the city.' Nick tapped in a search request on his wrist console and sent it through to Harris.

  'Do the other commanders ever talk about me?' Rachel said.

  'What do you mean?'

  'It's just something that Thompson said.'

  'What did she say?'

  'She said that people talk about me behind my back.'

  'She's probably just trying to get under your skin. Don't take any notice of her.'

  'You didn't answer my question.'

  Nick sighed, stepping over an old log that was covered in moss. 'All the commanders like you, Rachel. You know they do. Some of them even love you.'

  Rachel paused, a silence hanging between them for as long as she held a single breath. 'Do you think I'm strange?'

  'Everyone is strange in this place.'

  'Do I make you uncomfortable?'

  'No. Look, where is this going? Don't listen to Thompson. She can be a cruel, hard bitch when she wants to be. You have always been different. You know that, and I know that. Other people don't notice for the most part, and when they do, they just put it down to something that they didn't understand. They don't blame you for it. You don't make anyone uncomfortable as far as I know. Everyone is different, in their own way. I'm sure Harris is more uncomfortable in a room with me than he is with you.'

  'Harris is different. He's always been good to us. Some of the others I'm not so sure about. Rodnig gives me odd looks from time to time, some of the other commanders do too.'

  'Don't read too much into it. People give me odd looks as well. I don't give a shit what they think. We all have our jobs to do.'

  'How do we know if we're doing the right thing?'

  'What's wrong, Rachel? Has something happened?'

  'I was just remembering something from a long time ago.'

  'What is it?'

  'When I was six years old, my mother got so angry with me one day. It was autumn. The leaves had fallen and blown all across our garden. I wanted to help, so I swept the leaves into one big pile and burnt them, only I didn't use my hands, and I didn't use a rake or igniter either. I just stared at the leaves from my bedroom window and the rest just happened by itself. I've never seen my mother get so angry.'

  'You just thought about that now? That was a long time ago. Don't get yourself down over it. Things always seem worse when you're young. Memories get mixed up and exaggerated.'

  'It was real, Nick. She told me never to do anything like that again. She said people wouldn't understand if they saw me doing it. They would get frightened, and angry. She said bad things would happen to me if I let people see what I could do, and bad things would happen to her too. It scared me. I've never forgotten her words. I always thought, if I do something like that again, people will hurt my mother.'

  'That was a long time ago. You're okay now. The past can't hurt you.'

  'I suppressed it, somehow, but it didn't go away. For a few years I was able to block it out and go on with a normal life.'

  'Then there's nothing to worry about.'

  'I wish it was that simple. You don't understand what I've been through. After I had Lisa, it started again. It was slow at first, but it's been getting worse ever since. I don't think I can hide it anymore. Even Thompson knows that something isn't right.'

  'You're mother was right,' Nick said. 'You shouldn't tell this to anyone, not until you know what it is.'

  'I may never know what it is.'

  'You miss her, don't you?'

  'My mother? I always miss her. She was the most beautiful person I ever knew, but I hate her for what she did.'

  'I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry you have to face all this alone.'

  'I'm not alone. I have Lisa. I have my father.'

  Nick grunted in the back of his throat. He would always be excluded from the list of people who were important to her.

  'Do you know what I didn't realise until I came to Beacon Station?' she said.

  'Tell me.'

  'My mother was never surprised.'

  'What?'

  'She would get so angry when I did something like that. She would tell me to stop it. Sometimes she told me to stay away from the lords, and that I should never act that way around them. She was often upset, but she never once looked surprised about the things that I did.'
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  'You think she knew what this was?'

  'I think my mother knew a lot of things.'

  'It's a shame she's not here to answer your questions anymore.'

  Rachel didn't reply.

  Nick was surprised that Rachel had been so open with him. Their conversations had been strained for months. He found it increasingly hard to be included in any part of her life. If it hadn't bee for Lisa, he didn't think Rachel would ever speak to him at all. She hadn't said exactly what had happened with Thompson, but he didn't need to read her mind to know that she was upset about it. Thompson had stirred up old memories, putting fresh doubts into Rachel's mind. Nick wished he could be there with her, instead of being stuck at Havers Compound in the middle of a Kamari battle.

  'Where are you?' Nick said.

  'I just left the towers, but Thompson hasn't finished with me yet. I won't be returning to Havers Compound. I probably won't be returning to Beacon Station for a while either.'

  'I don't like the sound of that. What happened? Is she blaming you for the news droids?'

  'Yes, amongst other things.'

  Nick ducked under a low hanging branch, peering into the darkness. He wished Thompson would just fuck off. 'Rachel, I have to warn you about something.'

  'Warn me about what? Don't we already have enough things to worry about?'

  'Riser Trent.'

  'Thompson was asking about him. Who is he?'

  'Harris called me. He said that some news hack called Riser Trent is threatening to launch a satellite strike on Cinnamon City.'

  'I thought things couldn't get any worse.'

  Nick grimaced. 'They can always get worse. That's the one thing I've learned from Beacon Station.'

  'I thought the Kamari were controlling the satellite platform?'

  'They were. They aren't anymore. Somehow Trent got hold of the controller. The security around here stinks. I'll make a point of putting all this in my debrief report but I'm sure Thompson will ignore it like she always does.'