lapsed stacks, and angled it for Robert's benefit.
On the other side of the statue was a wide, clear aisle
which ran straight to the far end of the vault, where a
bright, shining pillar sat in the middle of the floor. It
shone with a cold blue radiance, and as Robert stared at
the reflected image he could make out several long, dark
shapes gliding sinuously around the pillar. He swal-
lowed nervously, feeling a tremble in his hands.
'That glowing pillar is the upgate,' said Conveyance
289.
'It doesn't look like a door or a gate,' he said.
'It will open for us when we get close enough. The
plan is for the Reski Emantes to charge at the vermax
from the sides and draw them away while we head
straight for the gate.'
Robert glanced around and realised that he was alone
in the passenger recess. 'The mechs are gone.'
'They are positioning themselves,' the mechanical
said. 'We will know the signal when it comes . . .'
A voice interrupted it from the companel in the
recess.
'We are ready now, 289. Human Horst, we have been
honoured by the task and your acquaintance - please
tender our cordialities to our descendant.'
Conveyance 289 shifted on its eight legs and Robert
heard the whine of other systems starting within the
mech's body as it shuffled round to face the wide aisle.
'The moment is upon us, Human Horst - hold tight
and be ready to repel boarders!'
Suddenly the mech shot forward, smooth and fast,
and Robert realised that they were flying along on sus-
pensors. He was quivering with the shock and
exhilaration of it. Dim walls of compacted wares flashed
past on either side and he focused all his senses on the
black kezeq shard, gripping it tight in both hands. Up
ahead he caught glimpses of three fights, Track-Reski
already still, one flexible track trailing and broken as a
single vermax, a snake of black smoke, devoured its
vitals. Hover-Reski, with two vermax chewing their way
into its casing, was gliding drunkenly off down a side
passageway. Tripod-Reski had lost most of one leg but
was leading the remaining vermax pair a merry chase
back along the wide aisle, moving with a manic, jerky
gait. They were sacrificing themselves, Robert knew, yet
they had mentioned a descendant. . .
The shining pillar was directly ahead, widening and
growing brighter as they rushed towards it. Robert's
fear began turning to relief tinged with a pang of sorrow
at the small mechs' fate. The gate opened, shimmering
silver and gold and icy blue, and as they plunged into it
Robert was momentarily dazzled.
'Human Horst, I was wrong - there were . . . six .. .'
He felt Conveyance 289 quiver but his eyesight was
blurred, showing him only a flowing, flickering tunnel.
'Help me, Human Horst, I am under attack . . . use
the kezeq sssshhaarrrrddd ...'
He blinked, eyes widening as he saw the vast walls of
opaque images and fractured landscapes past which they
fell. His mind rebelled. A primal terror was trying to
make him curl up into a whimpering ball, eyes closed.
But his eyes were open and he saw one of the vermax
attached to the forepart of the mech's carapace, eating
its way inwards. Shivering with cold and fear, Robert
loosened the couch straps, moved carefully forward to
lean halfway out of the recess and with the shard lashed
out at the writhing black snake.
It squirmed and he stabbed it again and again. As it
began to disintegrate something hot and bristly landed
on his left shoulder and bit his ear with what felt like a
mouthful of needles. Crying out, he lurched backwards,
trying to twist away, and saw yet another vermax cling-
ing to his shoulder, its fang-ringed mouth splattered with
his blood as it reared back, readying for another lunge.
Robert screamed in terror and hate and thrust the
kezeq shard at his attacker, ramming it into the open
gullet as he slipped off the couch. The vermax thrashed,
its hot bristling form hissing as it shoved itself against
his neck, despite the sword.
Which he could feel pressed against his skin and face
by the ferocity of the assault. Then suddenly the vermax
let out a brittle rasp and began to break apart. By now
Robert had slumped to the floor of the passenger recess
and with the vermax crumbling to dry pieces of black-
ness he tried to lift or push the terrible, nullifying cold of
the shard away. But the fingers of his right hand had lost
all strength while his left side felt like a block of ice
from shoulder to hip, from his neck up into his head.
Whiteness flowed. He could hear Conveyance 289
speaking to him but it was far, far away, icy echoes of
words dissolving in the cold along with the strange,
translucent walls that flew silently past.
In his thoughts, whiteness flowed.
53
THEO
They were fifteen minutes from the landing field's west-
ern boundary when a comm began beeping inside
Pyatkov's greatcoat. Theo and Donny glanced at each
other then watched the intelligence chief reach into his
coat.
'How come you've got a comm that works?' Donny
said.
'It's not a comm,' Pyatkov said as he produced an
odd, white object shaped like a curved teardrop. He put
the bulbous end to his ear and said, 'Yes?'
For a moment he was silent, listening, then:
'We did not know of this ... we need at least thirty to
forty minutes . . . yes, it seems likely ... I understand . , .
I'll await your call, sir.'
'Is there a problem?' Theo said as Pyatkov put away
the comm device. 'Was that someone from the Imisil
delegation, and what is that thing?'
'It is an Imisil comset,' Pyatkov said. 'I was speaking
to Ambassador Gauhux himself and he says that there
are violent anti-Hegemony demonstrations going on in
Port Gagarin and Hammergard tonight. Kuros has all
but accused the Imisil delegation of fomenting civil
unrest and has demanded that the Imisil leave Darien
space immediately. Gauhux is already on board his shut-
tle and is trying to stall for time, but Kuros is
threatening to have the port security force open fire if he
doesn't lift off.'
Theo's heart sank. 'But Rory and his lads are due to
set their diversion rolling in twenty minutes and we've
no way of calling them back. We could get through to
the launch pads only to see that shuttle take off . . .'
'No danger of that happening,' said Donny. 'That's it
away now . . .'
Theo hastily shifted over to the other side of the bus
and saw clusters of glowing vortices climbing quickly
into the night sky. At the same time, Pyatkov's comset
beeped.
'Yes sir ... I fully understand ... is there? ... would
they? . .
. ah, I see . . . indeed, sir ... . thank you for all
your help.'
With the call over, Pyatkov weighed the teardrop
device in his hand for a moment, then nodded.
'Well?' said Theo.
'We go ahead as planned.'
Donny burst out laughing. 'So ye do have a sense o'
humour!'
Pyatkov looked at him. 'The Imisil had no choice -
Kuros threatened to send over interceptors from the
Purifier and blow their ship out of orbit, and they take
Hegemony threats very seriously.'
'So why are we going ahead with this?' Theo said.
'Because one of the Heracles's shuttles, a cutter they
call it, is sitting in a hangar on the west side of the
launch fields. Captain Barbour, you've trained on the
Imisil simulator - what Earthsphere vessels are you
familiar with?'
'Hmm, tug, scow, repair gig, and close-support
fighter ^ the basics are pretty much the same, though.'
An anticipatory smile came to his lips. 'A shuttle
shouldna be very different.'
'And then what?' Theo said. 'Assuming that you can
get this shuttle up and into space, into orbit, where do
you go? Will the Imisil ship wait around, and if not
what are we going to do?'
'Ask the captain of the Heracles for political asylum,'
said Pyatkov. 'It's certain that he has very specific orders
concerning non-interference, but what if a group of
Darien colonists turns up near his ship in a hijacked
Earthsphere shuttle, begging for safe haven? If
Velazquez handed us over to the Hegemony it would
mean the end of his career because his crew would
know, which means that the story would inevitably get
out to the Earthsphere media. He would have to bring
us on board.'
Theo smiled in resignation. 'That's a very big "if"."
'Perhaps, but I am sure of it.' Pyatkov looked at his
watch and tapped the bus driver on the shoulder, telling
him to slow down. 'We're almost at the outer perimeter
checkpoint. There are two guards so I'll distract them
with my ID and official papers while the pair of you
sandbag them from behind.'
It went smoothly. Minutes after they had the guards
tied up, a call came through on the checkpoint cable
comm to raise the security level because of an intruder
alert on the western fence. Donny took the call, disguis-
ing his voice to sound as if he had a bad cold. At the
inner perimeter checkpoint the same gambit worked,
and the bus with the Enhanced was through in just over
five minutes.
The wooden hangar housing the Earthsphere shuttle
was the middle one of a line of three alongside the taxi-
ing runway. Leaving the bus in a ditch behind a cluster
of bushes, the Enhanced and their armed escorts skulked
through the shadows towards their goal, looking out
for a side or back entrance. There were a couple of port
security guards out the front while inside a solitary
Earthsphere marine kept watch from a partitioned
office. Infiltration went like clockwork, all the guards
put out of action soundlessly and non-lethally. With the
marine bound and sat over to one side, they quietly
came out of the office into the hangar proper. The shut-
tle was a snub-nosed, large-bellied craft about 30 feet
long with its stubby wings spreading from the upper
fuselage. While the Enhanced waited in the office, Theo,
Donny, Pyatkov and the driver, Giorgi, went over to
look at the shuttle's main hatch. They were nearly there
when a tall Brolturan soldier stepped through a door in
the hangar's massive swing shutter, saw them and
opened fire.
There was a stuttering, whicking sound and Giorgi
went down, bleeding from head, neck and back, while
another burst caught Pyatkov in the shoulder and sent
him sprawling forward. Donny and Theo dived for
cover behind the shuttle, handguns at the ready. The
Brolturan started shouting at them and firing short
bursts under the shuttle. Theo cursed and began climb-
ing up onto the upper hull while Donny tried dodging
this way and that. Theo was lying flat on the centre of
the wing surface when the office door opened and one
of the Enhanced, a slender, blonde woman, walked out
and called to the Brolturari. Her hand was already
raised as if in greeting but as he turned her hand
snapped forward, arm abruptly outstretched. The sol-
dier let out a gasping cry, dropped his autorifle, started
to bring up one hand, then collapsed to the hangar
floor with something jutting from his eye. The female
Enhanced walked over, studied him with intense, stem
eyes, then turned and went back to the office.
Theo meanwhile was scrambling down from the
shuttle and hurrying to where Donny was already kneel-
ing next to Pyatkov.
'How is he?' he said.
Donny looked grim, but before he could answer,
Pyatkov spoke.
'Bastard ... got me with ... one of those flechette
machiners . . . clawstorm they call it.. . how did you get
him ...'
'One of the Enhanced did,' Donny said. 'Tall blonde
woman.'
Pyatkov smiled. 'Irenya, da, of course ...' He looked
at Donny. 'The hatch . .. code is blue 24, red 18, green
09 . . .' He paused to grimace at the pain, and Theo
knew he was dying - there was too much blood.
'Giorgi? . . .' Donny shook his head. 'A good man - he
deserved a better death ... you must go. Just leave me
over ... somewhere with his gun ...' He stared at Theo
and Donny, then gave a savage grin. 'No one will be . . .
looking into my head - I have a hollow tooth ... nyet,
don't argue, just ... do it!'
So they did. In six minutes, everyone was on board,
Donny in the pilot couch in the tiny two-man cockpit,
the five Enhanced strapped into passenger seating in the
midsection compartment, and Theo moving Pyatkov
over to sit against a crate near the office, the Brolturan
weapon in his lap. The Russian's eyes were barely open
and his entire shoulder and side were soaked in blood.
'Hangar door . . . office . . .'
Theo nodded, and as he reached through the office
window to thumb the button he felt his skin prickle
when Donny powered up the shuttle's antigravity gen-
erators.
That's it, he thought. As soon as that door starts lift-
ing, the terminal guards'll come running.
Pyatkov's eyes were closed when he turned round
and Theo could not tell if he was still breathing or not.
'Goodbye, Vitaly,' he said quietly then hurried to the
shuttle, ducked inside and closed the hatch. As it
autosealed, he glanced along a short passage to where
the Enhanced were sitting straight-backed, eyes closed,
hands resting palms-up on their knees. Then the shuttle
lurched and swayed slightly and he stumbled forward to
the cockpit. As he strapped into the copilot couch with
shaking hands, Donny gave a pleased laugh.
'Nice ship, this,' he said. 'Responsive controls, clearly
tagged instruments and even an overhead holodisplay.'
He glanced at Theo. 'You ever flown before? To
Nivyesta, I mean.'
'No.' Theo breathed in deep. 'But I'll be okay.'
'Aye, ye will. Just kid on that it's a ride at the carni-
val.' Before them the hangar shutter was almost fully
open. 'Right, time to leave.'
The first few seconds of smooth forward motion
were deceptive - once clear of the hangar, Donny angle d
the nose skywards and fired the main thrusters. A hun-
dred invisible sandbags pressed Theo down into his
couch but then quickly eased off, even though "heir
acceleration did not.
'Inertial dampeners,' Donny said. 'Should've had
them on active tracking - sorry 'bout that. Deck gravity
is on, though, so you'll be able to get up and walk
around soon.'
Theo nodded, staring out the cockpit viewscreen at
the darkening sky where stars were growing brighter as
they climbed out of Darien's atmosphere.
'Did our sudden departure turn any heads?' he said.
Donny grinned, tapping the headset he was wearing.
'Has it ever! Listen to this ...'
He poked a couple of screen controls and suddenly
voices erupted from the console speakers.
'. . . flight is unauthorised and may incur a punitive
response -1 repeat, Shuttlecraft Hermes, this is Gagarin
Tower - you are instructed to return to Gagarin launch-
way 2. Your flight is unauthorised and may incur . ..'
'Earthsphere shuttlecraft, this is Preceptor-Captain
Eshapon of Purifier sub-Phalanx Tuva. A soldier of the
Brolturan Compact was killed by one of those who
hijacked that shuttle. You are instructed to return to
Port Gagarin and surrender yourselves . . .'
'. . . hey, this is a traffic control-restricted frequency!
Cut your signal immediately!'
'My authority supersedes yours - cease your interf-
erence . . .'
'Heracles-ops to Shuttlecraft Hermes - what is your
status?'
Donny grinned at Theo then thumbed the reply.
'Hermes to Heracles-ops - please stand by,' then he
silenced it.
'We're nearly at low orbit,' he said. 'And I've already
laid in an intercept course for the Heracles . . . which
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