Arkship Prophecy

by Niel Bushnell

  GIFTS

  The box was heavier than he remembered. He placed it on his knees with reverent care and stroked the lid, wallowing in its textured surface. He knew it was expensive – it was made of wood, after all – but it was its contents that made the box so precious to him. It had been a gift from his wife, given to him on their wedding day, a box of mementos to cherish in the shared years to follow.

  The pain never really left him, it just subsided into the background, numbed by everyday life. It was only when he stopped, like now, and opened the box did the grief crawl up to infest his soul once more.

  Halstead Kenric sat on the end of the bed and stared into the box. The interior was lined with a purple velvet material embossed with a floral design. Resting within was a worn, pitted bolt from Lexica, Bara’s pride and joy. Once, he’d offered to help her to dismantle the port docking sensor. When he’d finished, he had this one bolt left over. Bara had given it to him, a reminder in case he offered to help her again. Next to it was a dried, pressed flower taken from Icarus, a gift to him on his birthday. It was a rose, she told him, and it reminded her of Melchior. Beneath it was a photo of the two of them, laughing and smiling, a frozen instant from a happier time. Halstead smiled back at the picture, reliving the moment it was taken. Finally, there was a tiny data stick. He took it out of the box and put it in his pocket.

  There was space for more in the box. They were going to fill it together, but they never had chance. He took a final look at the photo, then Halstead closed the box and walked from the bedroom to his desk in the small office next door. He placed the data stick on the console and waited. The office lights dimmed, and a holograph flickered into life in front of him. After a moment, a single flashing icon appeared. Next to it was a set of coordinates.

  Bara had given it to him, just in case. If he ever needed to find her, if he ever wanted to see their son, he could use the stick to decode her beacon signal. Halstead relayed the information to Commander Watson’s console on the flight deck and placed the data stick back into the box. As he returned the priceless container to his wardrobe, he felt the familiar vibration of acceleration as the Ark Royal Caerleon began its journey.

  TRAILS

  The floor vibrated momentarily as the giant arkship began its new journey, unsettling Reader Aditsan as he knelt in front of the altar. The sensation passed, and he pulled himself upright, feeling tired. It had been a long day, and it was far from over.

  He sat on the front row, catching his breath, enjoying the silence of having the chapel to himself. Then, his thoughts turned to Shakti, and he felt stupid, full of remorse. It was the old temptations coming back to haunt him. They had never really gone away, just suppressed by work, ready to return in a moment of weakness. He mouthed a silent prayer to the Infinite Gods, pleading for their guidance and forgiveness.

  ‘Are you listening?’ he said aloud to the glowing representation of the Infinite that dominated the chapel.

  Behind him, the door creaked open, startling the Reader, and he turned to see Constable Fabien entering. Aditsan’s neck bristled with fear, then he remembered he had summoned the constable here.

  ‘Apologies,’ Fabien said as he took Aditsan’s offered hand, kissing the ring that all Readers wore. ‘I was delayed.’

  ‘No need for an apology,’ Aditsan said with a jovial smile. ‘You are no doubt very busy with your investigation.’

  Constable Fabien shook his head. ‘Surprisingly, no.’

  Aditsan offered him a seat. ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ the constable confessed. ‘My investigation has somewhat ground to a halt. The bomber seems to have constructed the bomb with little prior knowledge of such things, but there is evidence of bomb-making research on his pad. No accomplices, no trail leading to anyone else. Just a lone man with a grudge against the Church. All very neat and tidy.’

  ‘And that bothers you?’

  Fabien sighed, rubbing his hands together. ‘There is always something to find. An angry conversation with a friend, a history of growing resentment, something that – in hindsight – adds motivation.’

  ‘But the bomber had a grievance with the Church. Didn’t his wife die?’

  ‘Yes,’ Fabien replied. ‘There are certainly grounds for his actions, but I have studied Hinden’s profile and spoken to councilors and phycologists, and I find it hard to believe he would take his own life like this, not without additional provocation. Also, his work timetable was changed in in the weeks running up to the Scribe’s visit, as if someone wanted him on duty that day.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’ Aditsan asked.

  Fabien glanced at him, becoming more formal. ‘The investigation is still open, so it would not be prudent to say anything more at this stage.’

  ‘But surely the list of people able to change the work schedule of a royal guard is small?’

  ‘Very small,’ Fabien replied. His face became stern. ‘I will submit a full report to you and the Scribe once I have concluded my investigation. There are still several lines of inquiry I wish to explore further.’

  ‘Then I will not keep you,’ Aditsan said, standing.

  The constable hesitated. ‘You have known the prince and the admiral a long time, correct?’

  Aditsan thought for a moment. ‘About twelve, thirteen years, I think. Why?’

  ‘How would you describe their relationship?’

  Aditsan paused. ‘I’m not sure they have one. Halstead has always kept Valine at a distance. They are professional, courteous even, but nothing more.’

  ‘They were enemies before the alliance, obviously,’ Fabien noted.

  ‘Yes, but that’s politics for you,’ Aditsan said wearily. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Fabien shook his head, as if he was dismissing a notion. ‘Nothing . . . Just thinking out loud. A dangerous habit.’ He stood quickly, bowing as he walked to the door. ‘Good day, Reader.’

  Reader Aditsan followed him, unable to keep up with the younger man’s purposeful stride. ‘Infinite blessings, son.’

  The door closed with a jolt, then silence. Reader Aditsan stood for a moment, lost in his own thoughts, then turned towards the altar to continue his prayers.

  THE OATH

  A gray-white cloud of disinfectant spray spewed from the floor, spreading out to fill the airlock until Bara could no longer see. It was cool on her throat and had a metallic taste to it, odd but not unpleasant. It seemed to cling to her face, making her want to scratch at her skin, but she resisted, waiting until the air cleared and the door in front of her opened.

  She stepped forwards into a larger disembarkation zone. The rest of the engineering team were already there: Pedersen, Lindberg, Dryden and Hadleigh. Pedersen was the Team Leader, but they all looked to Bara for guidance.

  ‘Any sign of life?’ Bara asked, making a quick inventory of their equipment crates.

  ‘Nothing yet,’ Pedersen replied. He was a giant of a man, almost as broad as he was tall, with impractically large arms under his tight jacket. He seemed top-heavy to Bara, as if he might topple over with a simple push. His face was stoic, unchanged by emotion, but his eyes darted about, taking everything in.

  ‘Okay,’ Bara said, sitting on one of the storage cases. ‘Then we wait.’ She sensed the air of nervous anticipation coming from the team and she was keen to dampen its energy. Mistakes happened when people were edgy.

  The others followed her cue, their posture shifting to more relaxed poses. Hushed conversations broke out between the others, but Pedersen kept a professional distance, his eyes constantly checking the door on the far side of the space.

  ‘Madam,’ he said, coming to her side.

  ‘Bara,’ she corrected him. ‘I’m just another engineer today, okay?’

  He flustered, as if he was unable to follow her simple instruction. His lips tightened, then be said her name as if he’d sworn. ‘Bara . . . I have some concerns about this assignment.’

  ‘It’s just a fix-it job, Peder
sen.’

  ‘Not about the work . . . I am concerned about you. These people are not our allies. We don’t have any treaty with them. You should not be here. It isn’t safe.’

  Bara stared at him. ‘Finished?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sol!’ she exclaimed under her breath. Bara stood, her eyes level with Pedersen’s chest. ‘I appreciate your concern, but we’re here and we have a job to do, okay?’

  Pedersen nodded reluctantly and retreated into silence.

  A warning alarm chirped three times, then the door at the far end began to open. Armed soldiers entered, their weapons drawn. So much for reducing the tension, Bara thought.

  ‘Stay very still,’ one of the soldiers ordered. ‘Slowly . . . hands on heads.’

  Bara and the others obeyed.

  A bot entered and walked to their equipment boxes. Methodically, it scanned each container, paying close attention to some of the tools they’d brought on board. Next, the bot turned its attention on the team, scanning each in turn. Bara was last. It stood in front of her and held its hand over her body, waving it up and down until it completed the scan and took a step back from her.

  ‘Happy now?’ Bara asked.

  ‘Very,’ the bot replied. It turned to the soldier who seemed to be in charge and said: ‘All clear.’

  The soldier lowered his weapon. ‘We have to be sure,’ he said, waving for them to drop their hands. ‘Follow me.’

  Bara went to collect her equipment but the solider stopped her.

  ‘Leave that. We’ll bring it.’ He gestured to the other soldiers who holstered their guns and collected the engineering teams’ equipment.

  ‘Some of that is material to trade,’ Bara explained.

  ‘Yeah, we know what you’ve brought,’ the solider replied, leading her to the open door. ‘It all checks out.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Bara asked.

  The solider ignored her.

  The floor sloped downwards and the air cooled. Ahead, they came to a transport concourse. They waited in silence at the edge of the platform, until a tubular transport vehicle arrived. It was made up of dozens of carriages but the entire transport – like the station – was deserted.

  Chaperoned by the soldiers, they stepped on board. As the doors closed, Bara tried to engage the soldier in charge once more. He was young, probably in his early thirties, with a slender, chiseled face. ‘I’m Bara. What’s your name?’

  ‘Chief Custodian Adams.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Bara said with a grin. Adams’ face remained unchanged. Bara took a breath and persevered. ‘Everywhere is deserted. Where are all the people at, Chief?’

  ‘Just a precautionary measure, nothing to worry about. We don’t get many visitors.’ The Chief suddenly jolted upright. ‘Sorry. Yes, sir.’

  ‘Are you talking to me?’ Bara checked.

  Chief Custodian Adams stiffened, avoiding her gaze. ‘Please sit. We’ll be arriving soon.’

  Bara studied him for a moment, noticing the discreet device that all the soldiers wore behind their right ear, then she obeyed his order, resting on one of the seats next to Lindberg.

  The transport slowed, then stopped. The soldiers guided them out of the open doors and along another deserted corridor. It curved towards a set of imposing doors where the soldiers halted.

  ‘Here’s the engine deck,’ he said. ‘Your team will work here. You are to come with me.’

  Bara frowned. ‘Sol! I’m a good engineer. I came here to help.’

  ‘You’ve briefed your team?’

  ‘Yes, but–’

  ‘They will work here,’ Adams insisted. ‘You will come with me. If they need your assistance, they will call you.’

  Bara shook her head. ‘No, I’m staying with them.’

  ‘This is not up for debate. Regional Director Gilani wishes to meet you personally.’

  There was no room for negotiation. Bara smiled to her team, trying to appear calm again. ‘Alright. Let’s get on with it.’

  ‘Madam . . .’ Pedersen began to protest, but Bara’s raised hand silenced him.

  ‘Stay in touch,’ she said, turning to follow the Chief. They left the rest of the soldiers behind at the entrance to the engine deck, walking in silence through the maze of deserted corridors. The Chief avoided Bara’s gaze, focusing on the route which seemed designed to disorientate her. Every new corridor resembled the last; great lengths of white, featureless walkways, devoid of life, no noise except for their footsteps.

  ‘What’s he like?’ Bara asked, desperate to break the oppressive silence.

  ‘Who?’ the Chief said without looking at her.

  ‘Regional Director Gilani.’

  Chief Custodian Adams almost laughed. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met him.’

  ‘You’ve never . . . How is that possible?’

  The Chief stopped outside an archway, saying nothing, his eyes far away. After a moment he said, ‘He’ll see you now.’

  A door opened in the recess of the archway, and the Chief stepped aside, allowing Bara to enter. She crossed the threshold then turned back to speak to the Chief, but the door was already closing. Alone, isolated in a world of vivid white, Bara walked into the room. That’s when she saw the woman. Had she been there when Bara entered? She hadn’t noticed her until now. The stranger was slim and tall, standing in front of a thick circular door. She smiled broadly, offering her hand to Bara.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Lady Dulac.’

  ‘Bara is fine.’

  ‘Bara Delaterre,’ the woman said. She seemed to know everything about her already. ‘I am Administrator Wells.’

  She was beautiful, her skin appearing to glow in the rigid white light of the featureless room. It was hard for Bara to guess her age, she carried herself with a grace and maturity that seemed at odds with her youthful complexion.

  ‘Soon you will meet Regional Director Gilani,’ she continued, ‘but first we have the small matter of the Non-Disclosure Agreement to deal with.’

  ‘The . . . what?’ Bara said.

  ‘What do you know of the Merred family?’ Administrator Wells asked.

  Bara thought for a second. ‘You’re very powerful, traders, you keep to yourself . . .’

  ‘And what of the family itself?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know.’

  ‘Names? Faces? Anything?’ The smile never left the Administrator’s face.

  Bara shook her head.

  ‘As it should be. The Merred family prefer it that way. That is why – if you wish to proceed – you must adhere to our Non-Disclosure Agreement. You will not speak about what you see on the other side of that door. You will not disclose details of anything that is discussed. Do you understand?’

  ‘I can be discreet,’ Bara said defensively.

  ‘We ask for more than discretion. We must insist on complete and absolute secrecy.’

  Bara hesitated, surprised by the sudden seriousness of the woman. But they needed allies. And she was curious now. What was inside that room? ‘Yeah, I understand.’

  ‘You will agree?’

  ‘Yes, I agree.’

  Administrator Wells’ smile returned. ‘Thank you. Please, take this.’ She held out her hand, offering a tiny pill to Bara.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It is an Oath, our Non-Disclosure Agreement. It is a simple marker enzyme. If you ever break our agreement it will shut down your brain. You would be dead in a matter of seconds. Completely painless, very humane, believe me.’

  ‘Ah,’ Bara said with a nervous laugh.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s otherwise harmless. And we will also abide by the agreement. Regional Director Gilani has already taken the Oath. Anything you divulge in the meeting will remain inside that room. The Oath covers sensitive information that might be damaging or costly to either of us, if it was repeated. Information relating to third parties, or anything already in the public domain is exempt. Do you understand?’ She jutted her ha
nd towards Bara.

  The tablet was a small blue cube. Innocent looking. ‘Yes, I get it,’ Bara said as she took it in her hand and put the Oath in her mouth. She felt it tingle as it dissolved on her tongue.

  ‘Thank you,’ Administrator Wells said, sounding satisfied. ‘In a moment, the door will open. Please step into the chamber.’

  ‘You’re not coming in?’

  A hint of sadness threatened Administrator Wells’ smile. ‘No. This is a private meeting. It was a pleasure to meet you, Bara.’

  Bara watched her walk away, wanting to ask more questions. As she turned her head back to the door, she realized it was open now. She stepped into the shadowed interior, squinting to see the elusive Regional Director.

  Without a sound, the door closed behind her. The lights grew stronger, and Bara saw a cylindrical object resting in the center of the room. She stepped towards it, her focus on the white, polished cylinder. At first, she thought it might be an escape capsule, but she quickly dismissed the idea as nonsense. But, as she stepped closer, the surface of the object became transparent and Bara gasped to see a body resting inside.

  ‘Not very pretty, is it?’

  Startled, Bara turned to see she was no longer alone. There was a smiling man watching her. He raised his hands to calm her. ‘Forgive me. I’m Regional Director Gilani, but you can call me Alfred.’ He held out his hand, waiting.

  Bara composed herself and shook the man’s hand. Almost at once, she knew something was wrong.

  ‘No temperature, no pulse,’ the man said, gripping her hand. ‘It’s an odd sensation, isn’t it? It’s almost like I’m not quite human.’ He laughed, releasing her.

  She pulled her hand to her chest, recoiling from the strange encounter. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Human? Of course, but not quite like you.’ He gestured to one side and a table and two chairs formed out of the air. ‘Please, rest.’

  Alfred sat, waiting for Bara to join him. ‘Have you ever tried tea?’

  ‘Of course,’ Bara replied. She tested the seat, touching it to confirm it was real. Gingerly, she sat in the empty chair.

  ‘Real tea, from a plant?’