‘Earth,’ Raven divulged.
‘Well, we are going that way yeah...only I don’t think the Captain will be happy about another occupant feeding on our resources. We have a lot invested in our mission. Gotta be frugal, you know?’
‘My investments are centred to the call of fate,’ Raven explained.
‘I’m not much of a believer in fate,’ Scuttle said, colloquially, ‘I can hook you up with some people who can get you some really impressive weapons and stuff. Guy like you looks like you would be interested.’
‘Weapons…thy earthly weapons do not compare.’ Raven declared. ‘I pity your photon resonance technology and your factories upon factories of nuclear material. I need only passport to the Earth.’
‘Okay,’ Scuttle sighed irritably. ‘Talk to Casp. He should be back here in an hour or so. Why don’t you come back then?’
‘I will,’ said Raven standing to leave. ‘Heed this, my final caveat. Should thy Captain refuse us boarding access, The Griffin’s Claw will perish. This I know to be true by the proviso of a Chronomancer.’
Scuttle watched suspiciously, twisting on his seat as Raven passed behind him to dwindle in with the mass of people queuing for food or pushing for space. Many a gaze cast up at the towering figure as he meandered to the main door. Scuttle dropped his burger and stooped for a different exit. He had to find Caspian fast and get the hell off the Omicron. He knows an Olympian when he sees one.
-43-
At the Eastern Cosmo tower, Beta Gate, The Griffin’s Claw nested in a docking base at the end of the structure. Its nose pointed along the tower’s length facing back to the circular habitation section, thrusters set snugly into locking clamps. Due to the curious nature of the centrifuge affect outside of the ring system, the Cosmo towers, unlike Earth’s skyscrapers, tended to be upside down. The very highest point was in fact what would be considered the parking areas on Earth while the Penthouse suite was more or less constructed within the ring system itself as part of the elevator channels.
The distant sun glittered across the adorned fuselage of The Griffin’s Claw. Her architecture was elegantly rounded, like a long teardrop. The ship’s bow tapered with three twisting shield panels overlapping, torturing to a sharp peak, like the petals of a flower head vying to a terminus, a rose slowly starting to bud. Its mid-section was ribbed with an expanding saltus-carousel which contracted neatly, hidden away into the ship’s body during exploration. It could expand into an oscillating toroid for faster than light velox when required, assuming a size three times the width of the fuselage. Very few starnavis had a saltus-carousel integrated into the hull the way The Griffin’s Claw had. This was mainly because governing bodies like the S.S.A wanted to keep control of which vessels were making a spatial velox in and out of systems.
Tales of virtuous battles were etched into The Griffin’s Claw’s immaculate armour, those of Greek mythology, the Titans and the Olympians and their glorious stories, personified in the finest colours of titanium and silver, figures embellished in battle.
With no discernible windows the starnavis relied completely on vectors and neurophase applications, yet the main observation dome was hidden within the twisting shield panels. Three engine nacelles, set right at its lower bulk were presently evaporating fluids into space, a cooling process engaged after a quick engine test programmed by the pilot. From the middle of the ship, an umbilical transport tunnel joined the starnavis to the Beta Gate harbours. Several other vessels were running tests and leaving for their various destinations, busying the gate harbours with activity. The Griffin’s Claw shuttle was classed as a Tower Starnavis. Unlike Platform Starnavis, its levels were based above the engines layer by layer like a rocket, the bridge command being based at the top. Platform Starnavis usually had forward facing seats with the engines pointing to the rear.
Pawel Adamski preferred the Platform Starnavis. He didn’t much like laying back and feeling the fee forces shifting to his feet. He walked around an inertial bed, one of ten pocketed into the bridge command floor to support crew members during high gee-force accelerations. The huge holographic display screens produced a panorama around Pawel as he operated articulated kinetic arms outside the ship, making minor repairs and taking in cosmic spallation supplies (like those frequent small gritty black asteroids he often found knocking around) for the aneutronic-fusion core. A budget calendar displayed to each operation, subtracted each thought out operation and priority from the pool supply of available Atomon funds.
Pawel stared intently at each task, his scrupulous attention switching between multiple designations. As one task was complete another needed attention. There was no room for error, their budget was tight and each priority had to be layered into a hierarchy of importance. Once the programs were set, he stepped away from the hologram display field and the images effervesced into dormancy. His white and blue optical jumpsuit pulsed with life signals and codes relevant for the neuro-ligature with the ship’s AI. Oscillatory waves blinked over his arms and chest panels, while a matrix of binary codes trickled and trafficked around his limbs. He opened the signal through his neurosphere sensorium and discerned the ship’s virtually augmented reality. The sphere bloomed through his mind to imbue the entire bridge with programs to which he was intimately linked.
‘Good day Pawel Adamski,’ the AI greeted in his native language, an avatar personality program issuing an emoticon to smile and blink pleasantly.
‘Isolate article seventy three, maximise and grant user independence.’
‘Compliance,’ said the Starnavis AI.
From the room of hexagons, the emoticon turned its head slightly, spinning the surrounding spherical virtual space until it isolated one of the hexagons, maximising it for Pawel. He accessed the program and opened up the binary software. A highway of program language criss-crossed before him, as article seventy three presented its function. Pawel began to reorganise the algorithms to fit with a new animus, reallocating the hexagon to direct a new node pattern. The job was celeritas and efficient, the node now allowing a new power route from the core to the gravmex plating. At a thought, he dropped out of the neuromitted sensorium and the virtually represented reality imploded to a single speck of light and vanished. The gloaming digits on Pawel’s optical jumpsuit mollified with the less vibrant atmosphere. Small tremors shook beneath his feet as the articulated kinetic arms operated on The Griffin’s Claw fuselage somewhere outside.
‘Incoming call from Captain Mowser.’ Said the AI.
‘Receive,’ said Pawel.
Mowser smiled into the projection and nodded his head. ‘Wi deed eet! We made the deal, Paul.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Pawel, hands behind his back and standing upright.
‘Jerrus ees ghunah send us the cargo, ghit ready’a receive eet!’
‘Course,’ said Pawel. ‘When can we expect delivery?’
‘In ibout faive mins, boetie. How’s Ethan?’
‘He’s fine, Skipper,’ said Ethan Thomas, strutting confidently onto the bridge. His bulky tattoo profaned shoulders seemed to force their way from his sleeveless top. Although Pawel was the tallest crew member, and the leanest, Ethan was twice the size, sporting a bloated gut and bushy beard. He came to a stop by one of the inertia beds and threw one of his tuning implements onto the cushioning. ‘Just a little pissed that Pawel here is using all the power! You might have warned me before you did that, Pawel.’
‘Is there problem?’ Pawel asked calmly, switching his weight over to lean on a terminal.
‘Yeah,’ said Ethan, ‘I needed that extra power on this floor for the moment, I was analysing a circuit problem.’
‘I rerouted it.’
‘Yeah, but I can’t find the problem if there’s no juice running through it.’
‘We’re wasting fuel,’ Pawel explained.
‘Oh come on! We’re talking nano-cubic metres of DT. We can pick up more from the asteroid belt.’
‘On Captain’s orders I am supposed
to be frugal.’
‘Frugal?’ Ethan chuckled. ‘You mean pedantic. You like being the boss of this shuttle, huh? We’ve given those quantum energy plates way too long of a rest, c’mon Pawel. There’s infinite energy all around us. Pump up the jam.’
‘I am getting...’ Pawel searched his memory for the word, ‘irritated.’
‘Roite guys, chillax, ah?’ Casipan’s voice interrupted. ‘Just ghit the damn dreells onboard ind we ken scram.’
‘Yes Captain.’ Said Pawel.
‘Aye, aye, sir!’ Ethan rejoined.
When the augmented hologram field dissipated, Caspian’s signal faded with the light. Pawel glared as Ethan took a vapour-pipe from his vest pocket and starting the vapour flow, sucking it all up rapturously.
‘That circulates around the shuttle,’ said Pawel angrily.
‘Exactly.’
‘We all have to breathe this air, Ethan. Don’t smoke it.’
‘Shut the hell up.’
-44-
Artex had just handed back a logging register to one of the militia. A group of them were helping matriculate a new shipment delivered from South A’ Two munitions factory when a commotion began stirring in the garrison. Pania Kedash had been asking around for Gus and Artex, pushing through areas of the camp annoyed to have their training interrupted. She vaulted over a short fence segregating one of the animal feeds from a running track where some of the militia were practicing their shoulder carrying runs with partners. Artex straightened up and walked over to meet her as she sprinted towards him.
‘Trouble!’ She shouted, gasping for breath.
‘Take it easy, what’s going on?’ he asked, grabbing her shoulders to stop her colliding with him.
‘Artex! We need you! They got Kyo! They took him and his parents.’
‘Who did?’
‘The hardlanders,’ she explained, ‘from Moscowai! Krupin took them!’
Artex cursed under his breath and opened a semi-qualia channel with Cedalion. She was high in the sky over the air zone, she swooped lower to get a visual and saw that the Perigrussia Skybus had long ago left.
‘When did they leave?’ Artex asked.
‘A few hours ago,’ said Pania. ‘They took off and we heard a distress call from Kyo not long after. I don’t know how but they found him.’
‘I’ve an idea how,’ Artex grumbled, thinking of The Bear. ‘Do you know Berengar?’
Pania nodded.
‘He’s been close with the Lewis family some time now,’ he said. ‘Damnit! This might be my fault.’
‘The Bear?’ she wondered, remembering suddenly the last time she saw him. ‘Oh God! It wasn’t you.’ She realised. ‘That fucker overheard me talking with Kyo on my Quantic-W. He was looking around the SkyLark bays.’
‘I’ll have people keep an eye on him.’ He promised.
‘I got to get out to them, Artex!’ Pania said. ‘We have to do something, they need us! I’ve known Kyo most my life, he’s like my little brother! I gotta get him back!’
‘Cedalion can fly far.’ He said. ‘I can get a trace on the Perigrussia’s magnetic signals. If I find her…we can trace where it’s heading.’
‘Then what?’ Pania asked desperately.
‘We’ll get back our people.’ Artex decided.
‘I’m coming too,’ Pania said. ‘I’ve got a weapon. If we have to go out into the Novus for them, let’s do it.’
Artex nodded. ‘You’ll need a lot more than just a weapon. I’ll assemble another team member.’
‘Who do you have in mind?’
‘A sniper,’ he said. ‘Gus.’
*
‘NO! LET ME GO!’ Kyo howled, kicking vociferously with little affect to Krupin and his security. The man growled angrily and hurled Kyo into a box of crates in the ship’s cargo hold and Kyo collided with them and rolled to a stop, pushing the boxes off of his back. He hissed through his teeth painfully, a tightening claudication bracing his limbs into rigidity. Kyo lay still, panting for air, listening as Krupin spoke Russianomai with Vadim the Raw Dog, probably telling him to keep an eye on Kyo. The fighter rested his assault rifle and folded his arms.
‘What the fuck happened just now?’ he asked. ‘This was supposed to be a smooth operation.’
‘Blue fucking Lycans!’ Krupin spat. ‘They almost destroyed my ship!’
They looked at Kyo where he lay in the dark, whimpering painfully with rasping breaths.
‘Hear that?’ Krupin said, ‘your Blue Lycan friends were after you. And I’d a good mind to let them have you.’
‘You think they came for him?’ Vadim asked.
Krupin didn’t have an answer. The ambush had shocked him as much as anyone else and he’d lost some of his crew.
A commotion echoed in from the other room, voices that sounded to Kyo very familiar, chirping and laughing. Kyo sat still between the columns of heavy cargo boxes that were strapped tightly together and on top of broken bits of wood from the lighter cargo, and he suddenly felt the need to become invisible.
Hattle came running into the cargo hold topped with excitement and he whooped and cheered.
‘I don’t fucking believe it!’ He hollered. ‘Remember me? Huh? Remember me, speedy?’
And he ran up to Kyo who curled into a ball defensively as Hattle grabbed his collar and pinned him back.
‘Look at me you shit! Look at me…yeah you remember, don’t ya?’
Kyo frowned, confused with fear and anger, his hands already raised defensively.
‘Hey!’ Krupin shouted, pulling Hattle away. ‘Leave it alone! The gene-freak stays very still and alone, got it?’
Hattle stepped back and cleared his nasal over Kyo before walking past Vadim.
‘You are very strong,’ said Vadim sardonically, arms still folded over his weapon.
‘Cheers fella,’ said Hattle, patting his shoulder and then shouting into the other room: ‘it’s definitely him.’
Pierce Lewis entered the cargo area where the swinging chains chimed above from the motion of the cadonavis. There was a long and awkward silence as Pierce thought what to say to him, the dull toll of the cargo bay’s loading crane knocking against the hull, timing out the seconds. His face softened as he looked at the boy, whimpering in a ball. Pierce strolled leisurely over to Kyo and knelt beside him and took a deep breath, deciding on a more sympathetic approach than the others. After all, he was a reasonable man, it’s just the anarchists didn’t know it. They missed out on a merciful leader with him, a great man who had much to offer their world, order, safety, fools wanted none of it.
‘It’s nothing personal, son,’ he said. ‘Your kind just are not supposed to exist. You’re not supposed to be even on this planet. I’d blame your parents but we don’t even know who they really are.’
‘You took me away from them,’ Kyo mumbled.
‘Your real parents abandoned you. Nobody wants you, y’know? Just left you by a lake somewhere, regrettably. As for the anarchists…they’ll take anyone in…anyone to fill the emptiness of their existence. Sad really. But this man, Krupin. Well...he’s got an eye for talent. He sees something in you. Something really special and wonderful and he’s going to make use of that gift. He’ll treat you like a son, make you tough and strong. He’s your family now. So you better start getting to know these chaps, alright?’
‘I’m Vadim,’ Raw-Dog the fighter stated with a cruel smirk, ‘I guess now I’m you’re big brother.’
‘There, you see?’ said Pierce. ‘And you’ve sisters as well. Many beautiful tight arse young ladies waiting on you hand and foot. Why wouldn’t you want to be here? Hell of a family.’
Pierce reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieved a flask. He turned the cap and held it out to Kyo, head still buried in his knees to which he lifted on smelling the strong whiskey and declined to drink. Pierce shrugged and took a big mouth full, and patted Kyo hard on the back.
‘There there, little man,’ he said standing, ‘you’re
going to have a lot of adjusting to do, I think.’
-45-
Malik opened his eyes slowly and saw the darkness all around. The sensorium chamber’s flood lights shone dimly from above, and the occasional drip of water tapped through the silence, pip, blup, pob.
‘Vance?’ he tried tiredly, but his mind was effeted.
‘Relax Malik,’ his brother’s jovial tone came in. ‘I’m sedating you via neuro-stimulation.’
‘Is it over?’ he asked. ‘Have you seen enough?’
‘Quite,’ Vance said.
‘I want you to let me out.’
‘Who is this…Penelope Hurt?’
‘You have everything you need!’ Malik insisted, tugging drearily against the arm restraints. ‘Let me out…’
‘Is she…alive?’ he asked. ‘Is she still alive on the Erebus? Is she trapped in those temporal dopplers she talks about? Is she in your mind? Animate her for me Malik. Let me see her.’
‘No…’ Malik whispered.
But it was too late. The neurophase sensed his synapses more acutely than he could hide his thoughts, and Penelope was in the chamber. She crouched down on the walkway above the waters, chalking a pattern into the floor and whispering calculations to herself.
‘Ahhh,’ he heard Vance say, ‘there she is.’
‘Vance!’ Malik urged. ‘Stop this!’
Penelope turned her head and looked at Malik in the chair. She stood to her full height, only a short young woman, her short hair flaying out from the sides of her cap, her eyes like sable pits.
Chaos Cipher Page 42
