by S. K. Holder
‘Access Denied.’
He tried again and got the same reply. ‘Access denied.’ He felt a little affronted. He knew security in the basement had been lax since Professor Hatleman’s departure, but he didn’t see why he should be denied access after he had got this far. The capsule had all but welcomed him up until now. He studied the panel’s touchscreen. He found one blank rectangle on the touchscreen devoid of numbers, letters and symbols.
‘Could it be?’ He took out the key card he had taken from Professor Hatleman’s office. He carefully unwound the silicone tape. It had made a good impression of the professor’s thumbprint. He knew it would come in handy one day. Yes, he was that smart. He stuck the tape onto the blank key on the touchscreen, and then ran his sweaty thumb back and forth over the tape until he thought it would catch on fire. He pressed nine again.
After a tense two minutes, the control panel flashed blue. ‘Thank you Professor Hatleman. Entry successful. The gate is now open.’
‘I knew it. I knew it.’ He grinned like a maniac.
The neon light died. The control panel slid out of sight, too quick for Ted to erase his fingerprints. The door slid open. He patted away the perspiration from his forehead. He went to the tiny window in the capsule and looked out. He didn’t see anyone.
He wound the tape containing Professor Hatleman’s thumbprint back onto the key card. He wiped the rest of the capsule clean of his fingerprints.
He stepped out feeling both relieved and disappointed when he saw the teleportation platform deserted. He decided to go home, pack his bags and wait for Luke’s call. All Luke had to do was transfer the money into his account. It could be done over the internet. Not long now.
He left the basement via the exit doors. He re-entered the building through the main entrance and took the lift up to his temporary office on the eleventh floor. He cleared his desk, dumping files and papers, cups and food wrappers into the overflowing bin. He dropped The Plague of Pyridian gaming guide in the bin with the rest of the rubbish. He backed up his most important and most incriminating files on his memory stick.
Steve popped his big blonde head around the door without knocking. He wore a sky blue and white-checked shirt and beige trousers. He had ruddy cheeks and sun-kissed eyebrows. He had spent the weekend in Madrid and still had a holiday glow about him. He swaggered into the room. ‘You still here?’
Ted flew from his chair. ‘Yes.’ He shut off his work laptop and slipped the memory stick into his briefcase. ‘Just finishing up.’
‘Careful how you go. There was another power outage a mile from here. All the lights went out.’
Ted nodded. He wished Steve would leave. He had done almost everything he had asked. Now what did he want? Power outages didn’t affect high-end office blocks like Tridan Entertainment. They had their own standby generators. Steve didn’t care if he had to travel home in the pitch black.
‘Luke was here earlier, skulking around,’ said Steve. ‘Did you see him?’
‘No, I must have missed him.’ Ted licked his lips and took one last look around his temporary office knowing he wouldn’t be seeing it again.
‘I’m not paying you to miss him. I want you to personally see to it that he gets back his laptop and that he uses it for the right reasons. Where is it now?’
Ted had left Luke’s laptop inside the capsule. He hadn’t thought to bring it with him. He didn’t think he needed it. ‘I had a courier send it over to his home. Signature required. It will definitely get into his hands.’
‘It better. If it doesn’t, I’ll hold you responsible.’
‘Don’t worry. He’ll get it.’ And so will you, thought Ted, after I’m gone.
‘Good. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Once Steve had shut the door behind him, Ted took a deep breath. He gathered up the last of his belongings and left for home. He could see the darkness converging over the area where the electrics went out. The first batch of late night city workers drifted towards Liverpool Street station like zombies.
He felt a twinge of guilt about the kid. Connor might have vanished anyway, even if he hadn’t lured him into the capsule. He hoped his tragic departure wasn’t excruciatingly painful. And of course, Luke would be crushed. It was a shame.
Once home, Ted felt safe. He surfed the internet for a bit, and then settled down in front of the television with a pot of beef noodles and a can of coke. He decided to take a short nap. No harm there. He stretched out on the sofa, closed his eyes and soon drifted off to sleep. He thought he heard someone come in through his living room window, felt their icy breath on his neck, heard their footsteps echo in the hall.
When he woke from his nap, he found his living room window closed as he had left it. He had only been dreaming. Thank mercy. He felt a whole lot better about things, having slept on them. He would pay off all his debts. No more bailiffs on his doorstep. No more county court judgements. No more nuisance calls from his landlord. It was a new day. A beard free day, he thought, scratching the tumbleweed hair sprouting from his chin. He would have a shave later, press his clothes, pack a case and book a flight. With the itinerary for the day locked in his mind, he swung his legs off the sofa and checked his watch. It was 4 o’clock in the morning. He had overslept and Luke had run out of time. He opened up his laptop on the coffee table. He accessed the internet and checked his bank account. Half the money was there. Only half. Ted pinched his lips, afraid he would scream. His mobile phone vibrated. Luke had sent him a text message typed in capital letters.
‘YOU’LL GET THE REST WHEN YOU BRING HIM BACK.’
FOURTEEN
Located in Sector One, one-hundred-and-fifty feet below ground, lies Hiburild, also known as the Whispering City. It is home to the Peltarcks and a sanctuary for those who wish to hide from the perils of war…
They took a lift situated in one of the adjoining rooms of Essar and Brenim’s temporary home. The descent seemed to take forever and when the lift doors snapped apart, Connor was dazzled by the daylight, lines of multi-coloured apartment blocks and the winged modes of transport zooming through the air. Some flew so low, they whipped a cold breeze around his ears and made him tremble.
The city was a grid of towering units divided by coarse streets and furrowed footpaths. The towering blocks made the city look cramped and dismal, casting their long silhouettes and creating the illusion that no walkways lay between them.
Every so often, he caught the wafting smell of damp rock. Heat rose from the ground, while cooler air circulated around him. The streets were dusty and bare. No stalls, benches or trees lined the footpaths.
No one lingered on the streets. The Peltarcks appeared to move from one unit to another like ants on a jumbled conveyer belt and those who spoke did so in a whisper. Connor tuned into a conversation between two men dressed in loose shirts and thick trousers. His hopes of gaining an insight into Hiburild culture from them were dashed; they did not speak a word of English.
Lin walked with drill-march precision. The people of Hiburild cleared a path around her as if afraid of getting speared on her spiky armour. Connor sought to keep a good distance between himself and Lin for the same reason. He noticed that a number of passers-by dipped their head in her direction. She also received a few curt bows from others. She didn’t acknowledge any of them. It was as if they were invisible to her, that they were not part of her world.
The Peltarcks were a tall race with varying skin and eye colours. Their natural hair colour was jet-black. Though some dyed it as the fashion dictated. Many had sections of their hair shorn off to display their strange tattoos: a medley of symbols and ancestral images that Connor couldn’t begin to understand.
A small number of fleet soldiers walked among the civilians: all armed. Their eyes were alert as if expecting danger to spring on them at any given time. Connor found himself looking out for danger as they did. Each subtle movement from a passing Peltarck, or the expanding shadow from an airborne vessel gave him a fresh spasm o
f fear.
Lin had taken a hooded cloak and a pair of steel-plated gloves from Essar. She told Connor he must wear them. In awe of his royal companion, he didn’t question her reasons. He felt out of place in a robe. It seemed medieval by Pyridian standards. No one wore them. The women, men and children who crossed their paths wore dark tunics, some of which ballooned at the shoulders and the waist. He spotted a woman wearing a dress that looked as if it were made from metallic office blinds. He passed a man dressed in a pair of trousers that were full of holes. The man was so tall that Connor could not see his face no matter how hard he craned his neck. He glanced up every road they crossed and saw more tower blocks stacked, like dominoes for miles, in every direction.
‘How come it’s night above ground and daytime below?’ he asked Lin.
‘It’s synthetic,’ she replied. ‘An illusion.’ She unclipped a narrow case from her belt. She took from it a pair of glasses. She handed them to him. ‘Entity visors. Look through them. See for yourself.’
Connor put them on. The visors plunged him into a forbidding world, very different from the one he had left behind. The underground city of Hiburild was an arid place, sheathed in darkness. It had a hollowness about it; the kind of hollowness you experienced when you venture onto a stage in an empty theatre. The roofs of the tall apartment blocks held columns which enveloped the spiral staircases leading to the upper surface. The flat terrain looked as if it was covered in tarmac. He saw rocky black orbs and ventilation shafts where there should have been sky. No wonder, no one smiled, he thought as he surveyed the inhabitants’ grim faces.
‘We created this simulated environment to mimic the one our ancestors had long ago,’ said Lin. ‘This is the world we know. A world away from aliens.’
He handed the visors back to her. Despite its strangeness, he preferred the warmth and scenic view of the simulated environment. ‘Don’t you worry they’ll get through?’ The Peltarcks and the aliens shared the same world. Could Lin not see that?
‘No. They don’t venture underground. You would think we had an unspoken agreement with them; we exist below ground and while they live above it.’
‘Then why do Citizens choose to live above ground?’
‘Because they have a yearning for luxury and see death as a frivolity, even when it’s staring them in the face.’
The bitterness in her tone brought him to a standstill. He didn’t see death as a frivolity and the only luxury he had a yearning for was his bed.
Lin halted with her back to him, aware he had stopped walking. She drew herself up and let out a long breath, a breath he felt she had been holding the moment she had set eyes on him. She turned to face him, her cheeks colouring blue. ‘So my father believes. The truth is, you are the braver race. You have an advantage over us in strength and wealth, and you possess technology which far outweighs our own. We have lost most of our ships and weapons fighting these aliens, not to mention our own people. We hide from them and try to convince ourselves otherwise. Many of our warriors shun the fleet. There are more Peltarck deserters hiding away in empty units than there are civilians. We have brought shame upon ourselves. That is why we whisper when we are out in public, for fear of being heard by the aliens, your kind and the Anchor God who aligns the planets.’
Connor had no understanding of Peltarcks, let alone the race of Citizens. He was relieved to learn that the reason for Lin’s anger and frustration had nothing to do with a hatred for his race. Although part of him felt that she didn’t much like him. Lin had blue rims under her eyes. They were slashes in her trousers and some of the spikes in her armour were missing. None of the other Peltarcks they passed wore spiked-armour. He supposed that she was one of the few remaining, if not the last, Peltarck warrior willing to fight the aliens.
‘Are you a real princess?’ he asked.
She gave him a wry smile and continued walking. Connor ambled after her, trying to get a good scratch of his nose through his heavy gloves.
‘I’m not a princess. My great-great-grandfather was the last emperor, but I have no royal title or claim. Pyridian is now ruled by the people. Royalty is an outdated concept. Some bow to me out of respect for the old ways. Those who remember or know our history.’
Learning that he was not in the company of royalty put him at ease, unless−
‘I’m not a prince am I?’
She laughed and looked back at him. ‘Why would you think you were a prince?’
‘In the few hours I’ve been here, three people have bowed to me, including you.’
‘All visiting First Status Citizens are deserving of a bow on our planet. Don’t expect a bow from the Second and Third Statuses. You’ll have a long wait.’
He thought the protocol bizarre, but he didn’t question it. He didn’t mind someone bowing to him every now and again. He suspected the novelty and embarrassment would eventually wear off.
They entered a rutted path dividing a row of towering apartment units, their windows blackened. The patter of feet and the low humming noise of the airships receded as they walked side by side.
When they had journeyed a sufficient way up the path, Lin halted in her stride. ‘What are you doing in Pyridian Connor?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t plan to come here,’ he blurted out. ‘Luke must have told you we got to Narrigh by playing The Quest of Narrigh game on his laptop. Well it happened again. Except this time it was with a different−’
Lin interrupted him. ‘As I understood it, he had forbidden you access to his computer. You accessed it again I take it and it brought you here. I might have guessed. You’ve broken your brother’s trust again and your mother will be in a state of worry. What were you thinking? Oh,’ she huffed and rolled her eyes. ‘I forgot Citizen youths don’t think, well most of them. Don’t tell Luke I said that.’
He glared at her, annoyed she had pointed out his failings and reminded him of how his mum would be coping with his disappearance; she would be hysterical. He didn’t know if the same time had passed in Pyridian as it had on Earth, if hours had passed and not days. He knew he had acted irresponsibly. No doubt his departure from Earth would invoke some gallant rescue attempt from his brother. The thought made his stomach grow cold. ‘I was trying to find out how I got to Narrigh and−’
A voice called from somewhere behind them, cutting Connor off as he attempted to vindicate himself. ‘You there!’
Lin stiffened. ‘Don’t turn around,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t let him see your face and whatever you do, don’t speak.’
Connor pulled the hood of his cloak tight around his head and pressed his chin to his chest. He was so close to getting home, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything going wrong. All he could see of the approaching stranger were their black boots and the trousers of a uniform similar to the one he wore under his cloak.
‘Sorry Lin,’ said a man. I thought I’d come upon more duty-dodging soldiers. We’ve emptied the first four units in sector fifteen. Nine more to go. So who’s this?’
‘Dodger,’ said Lin. ‘I’m taking him to Swordul for questioning.’
‘Not a Citizen I hope.’
‘No, he’s one of ours. Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be officer?’
‘It’s Tuon, and no. I’ve been assigned to patrol this area. You’re taking an obscure route to the teleport station. Shouldn’t you be heading east?’
‘I’ve a ship docked not far from here,’ she replied.
Lin sounded impatient and Connor knew she had good reason. The man had stooped to try to get a glimpse of the face beneath the cloak. It was clear he had not believed Lin’s story and Connor didn’t blame him. For one, their route, between two vacant apartment units, looked precarious. Besides, Lin had not restrained him in any way.
He thought Lin must have thought all of this through because she said, ‘He’s one of our cadets who found himself out of his depth. He’s so traumatised he can’t remember his own name.’
‘It’s not Connor is
it? I was on my way back to the station when my ship picked up a visual of an unregistered Varipod user by the name of Connor, House of Brailey. I was going to call in it, but I thought I’d better verify it for myself. I didn’t want to look foolish.’
Connor snapped his head at the sound of his name. He gazed into the eyes of a young officer with bronze-coloured skin and sprawling head of hair. He had two insignias on the breast of his tunic and a flat bag strapped across his shoulder. A gun hung from the holster he had slung around his hips.
‘Anyone else around when you picked up the visual?’ asked Lin.
Tuon kept his eyes on Connor. ‘Only me.’
‘It’s unfortunate that you didn’t call it in then.’ She beckoned Connor over. ‘Keep walking,’ she told him. ‘Don’t look back.’
Connor did as she told him. He heard the blast of the gun. An arc of blue light flashed across his path. He threw back his hood and ran.
FIFTEEN
The next day, Ted went to the Tridan Entertainment office unwashed and unshaven. He took the lift up to Steve Lepton’s office on the sixteenth floor without stopping at the vending machine for his morning Americano coffee.
The lift journey felt like a roller coaster ride. His head was spinning so much that when he stepped out, the corridors looked distorted and he had broken out in a sickly sweat.
He knocked on Steve’s door and went in before Steve had said ‘enter’. He just wanted to get it over with. It turned out he wasn’t as smart as he thought. He should have asked Luke for an astronomical amount of money, like a quarter of a million, then getting half wouldn’t have been a problem. With half a million in the bank, he could have cleared his debts in one sweep.
