Trinity

by Patrick Morgan

  The Shaman gave a short, deep laugh and relaxed his face for the first time since kneeling. ‘It matters little, as he is the only man to dwell within that cursed place. But, as you ask, his name is Benjamin Kittala.’

  ‘Then I will find him,’ she replied with the assertion of youth.

  ‘Be wary in Kul,’ said the Shaman, drawing closer to her. ‘It harbours a creature deep in its belly. A monster. You must exercise extreme caution within the city walls.’

  ‘What sort of monster?’ asked Megan, alarmed.

  ‘A daemon,’ said the Shaman. ‘I have seen it in my visions and I fear it greatly. Now we must make haste and prepare to return you to the surface, to your own kind, if you are to make the journey. Storm clouds are gathering. Skala will be gifted one last rain before its death; this has been foretold. I fear that there is no time to lose. You should go.’

  He stood, releasing Megan before nodding to Jean-Louis.

  ‘I will gather an expedition,’ Jean-Louis said. Then to Megan and Olson, ‘If you wish to say goodbye to Hesta and the children, now is the time.’

  Megan turned back to the Shaman but in the fleeting moment during which she had looked away, he had vanished.

  026: The Surface

  Below Skala

  Having said their goodbyes to Hesta, Michelle and Deain, Megan and Olson followed Jean-Louis back into the vast space of the underground reservoir. Olson had been reluctant to leave and Megan understood why. He seemed very much at peace down here among the Hadje, but equally she’d learned that the person he wished to see most of all was no longer here.

  Accompanied by a party of three, they made their way around the circular body of water and back to the passageway. Turning back for a moment, Megan caught a last glimpse of the family. The children waved eagerly before Hesta ushered them back into the warm glow of Buni Sound. It was strangely comforting to think of them being tucked back into their own beds just as she and Olson were to begin the long, daunting climb.

  The ascent turned out to be easier than Megan had expected. For one thing she was less terrified than she had been the shift before, when she had no idea whether she was a prisoner or a guest. For another, the climb may have been physically demanding, but it felt a lot more controlled than the sensation of a barely restrained fall. Negotiating the many creatures was also easier and, while still wary of them, she felt much less threatened.

  They travelled in a silence punctuated only by their collective heavy breathing. Presently, the walls started to slope in from the right, providing assurance that they were nearing the top of the dome.

  ‘I can take you as far as the Siphon,’ said Jean-Louis, speaking for the first time in several rotations. ‘After that you are on your own, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Olson. ‘We appreciate you bringing us this far.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘How do we get from the Siphon up to the surface?’ asked Megan, grateful to reach the top of the steep climb.

  Entering the damp link tunnel, Jean-Louis spoke breathlessly over his shoulder. ‘There is a metal structure around the Siphon tanks. There are steps that lead up to a service platform. At the rear of the platform is a ladder of metal rungs. Climb those and you will find your way to the surface.’ Catching sight of Olson, who was looking out of breath, he added, ‘It’s not too far.’

  It wasn’t long before the tunnel ended abruptly and the light of Jean-Louis’ torch and those of the other guides became lost in the vast open space. They could dimly make out the huge water tanks and the winding steps around them.

  ‘This is goodbye for now,’ said Jean-Louis, and Megan savoured the soft lilt of his voice, stowing away its calming effect deep in her memory. ‘But I hope we will meet again. Mr Olson, it has been my privilege to meet you. You are welcome in my house and I should like you to visit again if time and chance allow. You know how to find us.’

  ‘Thank you, Jean-Louis, that means a lot to me,’ said Olson with total sincerity.

  Jean-Louis then turned to Megan. ‘You will really travel to Kul?’

  Megan hesitated. She had been asking herself this question over and over again for rotations but had no definitive answer. ‘I think so, yes,’ she said, but without much assurance. ‘Do you think I should go?’

  Jean-Louis considered this a moment. ‘Yes, if you can I think you should go. My soul tells me you are the right person to walk that path. Few of your kind have walked it, and none so young, but I feel that, yes, for you it is right.’

  Jean-Louis looked intently at Megan and she saw a darkness slowly overcome his handsome features. ‘Remember what the Shaman said. Be careful inside the walls of Kul. Find Kittala as quickly as you can. He will keep you safe.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Megan seriously.

  ‘May the spirits walk beside you,’ he said with gravity.

  ‘Thank you, Jean-Louis,’ she replied, grateful for this blessing.

  He gave them a last look, handed his torch to Olson then turned to the three men who stood at the threshold of the tunnel. ‘Time to go,’ he said, and together they walked swiftly back into the tunnel, the flickering light dimming all too quickly.

  *

  Olson found the climb from the Siphon tank hard going but did his best not to show it. He was an active man, but descending then ascending thousands of steps in consecutive shifts was more punishment than his body was used to. They found the rungs Jean-Louis had spoken of and Olson followed his younger companion to their summit. The darkness of the shaft pressed closely about him and, while he wasn’t claustrophobic, the confinement combined with fatigue gave him a manic need to press on. He was relieved when Megan called back over her shoulder.

  ‘I think this is the top,’ she said, giving the roof above her a firm shove. A wooden panel moved aside, allowing the hot air of the upper world to stream through the crack. She gave it a second shove and pushed it aside with what strength she still possessed. With the panel out of the way she clambered out into the remains of a long-abandoned building. She took a tentative look around before turning back to help Olson up and out.

  They both took a few moments to adjust to the light, which was dimmer than either had expected. Through the splintered beams of a partly collapsed roof they saw the dark underside of cloud obscuring the sun. It rendered the sky almost black, an arresting sight for Megan, who had seen such a thing only twice before. Olson extinguished the torch, which smoked a little then gave up completely.

  ‘Where are we?’ wondered Megan out loud.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Olson, looking around. ‘The Western Fringe someplace, I guess.’

  They dusted themselves off, a futile effort considering the damp grime that sullied their clothes. Seeing the remains of a partly collapsed doorway, Olson made for it before reconsidering and doubling back to cover the entrance to the Siphon.

  ‘Don’t want any kids falling down there,’ he said, catching her frowning. ‘We don’t have enough to spare.’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said, berating herself.

  They made their way out through debris and into the more familiar surroundings of a deserted street. The buildings were low and bore the appearance of warehousing or light industrial units. They skirted the perimeter fence of a nearby compound, eventually finding the entrance. Above it hung a large, sand-scoured sign that read ‘Hellinar Research Area T24’.

  ‘Well I’ll be damned,’ said Olson, who took a step backwards to admire it, a look of reverence writ clear across his features.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Megan, intrigued.

  ‘Before we went down to the Vault – before you jumped straight into that tunnel Miss Devin – Vincent told me he had interviewed a quartermaster from Hellinar Research. He’d been beaten half to death in the slums after tracking a group of vehicles stolen from a facility called T24.’

  He shook his head in bemused wonder.

  ‘That makes perfect sense,’ said Megan, jumping quickly to the
obvious conclusion. ‘Myra let someone into the Vault, they took HEX and escaped to meet the vehicles here.’

  ‘I really don’t know about Myra,’ said Olson, looking doubtfully at Megan. ‘She just doesn’t strike me as being a part of this. But yes, I think you’ve hit the nail on the head with the rest of it.’

  Jumping back to her assertions about Myra, Megan urged him. ‘But someone from inside the Vault must have been able to tell whoever took HEX that the coast was clear. That wall was fillered, sanded and painted from the inside. It must have taken shifts. Surely that’s the only way it could have been done?’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. That part doesn’t quite make sense to me either. We need to talk to Vincent as soon as we can. He may have learned more since we’ve been gone.’

  ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ asked Megan with a smile. ‘Let’s find a trishaw.’

  027: Commissioning

  Research and Development Facility, Eastern District, Skala City

  The case for ROOT’s integration had not been the hard sell Katherine anticipated. The success of the GVX fire-up seemed to have brought a renewed confidence that humankind could create, with or without the aid of IDC guidance. While no one would deny the input that ROOT had on the project, the abilities of John Orchard and the other designers were played up, as were the speed and precision of Don Hoffer’s construction crew. Although this nagged at Katherine a little, she felt it would be churlish to deny the team their achievements. After all, it was the Privy Council lording it over their work, not they themselves.

  Ultimately it was Erin James who had pushed the case for integration. Ratha objected at first but capitulated somewhat sooner than expected. She seemed reluctant but resigned to the outcome, sighing a good deal but letting events play out without much protest. The rest of the Privy Council followed suit soon after. For reasons she couldn’t quite define, Katherine felt an undercurrent of unease at this. She had got what she wanted, but the way in which it had come felt somehow contrived. Nevertheless, she knew she had to grab the opportunity with both hands.

  ROOT’s removal from his plinth in the Vault had been complicated. In the time since his activation he had been shut down only once, and vigorously warned of the dangers of doing so again. Keeping him live necessitated some delicate work to splice into his power supply and switch to an auxiliary unit, which would remain with him as a backup while coupled to GVX. After a few agonising rotations the technicians switched him over with no interruption.

  Katherine reached SVA a little before ROOT’s arrival, which was undignified given the circumstances. The importance of this momentous event, the first integration of an Intercessor into a man-made machine, was lost on no one. It was therefore hard to find the sight of the intricately featured cube being wheeled in atop a basic trolley anything other than comical. To make matters worse, Vincent O’Brien, in a rare show of generosity, had assigned two of his agents to act as a temporary security detail. Seeing two uniformed women flanking the trolley as if their lives depended on it looked utterly absurd. A group of technicians, Myra Cena among them, trailed behind like an expectant, if nervous, guard of honour.

  John Orchard, standing to one side, shouted across to Roy Jacobs. ‘Can we open her up?’

  Jacobs looked up from his laptop and gave the designer a broad grin. ‘We certainly can,’ he said, and hit a series of keys.

  Katherine gasped as GVX’s smooth flanks, divided into compartments between skeletal ribs, slid out. Each made a dull thud as it reached full extension and locked. What was already a huge vehicle had almost doubled in width over the course of only a few moments.

  ‘I suppose it’s time we acquainted you with the interior, Katherine,’ Orchard said with more than a little pride in his voice.

  ‘That…’ she stumbled over her words, ‘That would be good.’

  Accompanied by Orchard and Jacobs, Katherine made her way towards a steep ladder that extended from a retractable platform ahead of the expanded midsections. Reaching it, she found it was made from a plastic-based material.

  ‘Just in case you forgot your gloves,’ said Orchard, bringing up the rear.

  Reaching the top of the steps, Katherine ducked through the open doorway. Immediately, lights winked on, reacting to her presence. The space inside, although split into compartments, was huge relative to any previous exploration vehicle she had travelled in.

  She looked around her, getting her bearings. Although each compartment’s purpose was self-evident, Jacobs listed them.

  ‘We refer to the central, open, crew area as the galley,’ he began. ‘Behind you are the science stations. They’ve yet to be outfitted with equipment and it’s unlikely much will go in there before departure. Across the way is a small workshop and survey drone pod, again not outfitted yet but that’s a priority for the next shift.’

  Gesturing to the compartments closer to where they stood, he continued, ‘These are the sleeping quarters; you can see there are eight bunks. Forward from them is a washroom and a small kitchen. Food stores, by the way, are down the back.’

  ‘So, where’s the dance floor?’ she asked.

  ‘That would be up the front,’ said Jacobs with a laugh. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the cockpit.’

  He led the way towards a door in the forward bulkhead. The cockpit, much to Katherine’s surprise, was relatively spacious. The hangar was visible almost all around them, not only through the forward windshield, but parts of the roof, flanks and a good proportion of the floor. She frowned, impressed by the panoramic view and realising that most, if not all, of it was a projection.

  ‘The cockpit is designed for up to four people; a systems engineer, a monitoring technician, driver and co-driver. The hope is that most of the time a crew of two can manage the systems while GVX is mobile.’

  She stepped forward, mounting a step to the raised forward portion of the cockpit. In front of her were two identical chairs, the design of which was distinctly different to anything she had seen before. Side by side, with a generous gap between them, they sat reclined. What was most peculiar though was the control system. From the back of each chair, running round and forward from either side, were frame-like structures which apparently supported the drivers’ arms. At the end of each frame was a control stick festooned with buttons and selector wheels that differed in layout from left to right.

  ‘Have a seat, ma’am,’ said Jacobs, gesturing to the right-hand chair. Katherine moved to it and stepped awkwardly over the left arm support to lower herself into the seat pad.

  Once in, Katherine instinctively reached over each shoulder in turn, pulling the straps of the harness from behind her back. Feeling a little more comfortable, she looked to Jacobs, who was now squatting beside her.

  ‘So my arms go in here?’ she asked, lowering them tentatively into the frames.

  ‘That’s right. The simulator drivers referred to them as ‘splints’. The whole setup is designed to be as intuitive as possible and allows you to maintain concentration for long periods. I’ve spent a few rotations on the sim myself and it works.’

  Settling her arms into the splints, she took the control sticks as her feet found pedals. ‘So, what do I do?’

  *

  Moving ROOT up the ladder and into GVX’s hold was fraught with potential disaster. It was a slow and painful process as SVA technicians carried up the remote power supply, trying to keep the cables from getting tangled or, worse still, disconnected. Eventually, in single file and with a good deal of fumbling, ROOT sat safely before the cut-out he had himself designed into the rear bulkhead.

  ‘Well done everybody,’ said Katherine with great relief. ‘I’m not sure I’d want to do that every shift.’

  There was a collective murmur of agreement.

  ‘Okay, if we’ve got the backup power supply in place I guess we lift him in,’ she continued with a look of mild trepidation.

  With Roy Jacobs observing her from a respectful distance, she squatted down and looke
d to Myra to do the same. Between them, they lifted the cube and lined it up with the cut-out. It was a snug fit and they had to walk ROOT in the first few centimetres until he could slide back with ease to mate with the rear docking face. A moment later they heard a brief percussion of metallic cracks as ROOT’s internal locks snapped into GVX’s receptacles to secure him in place.

  ‘Well I guess it all works,’ said Katherine, to no one in particular. ‘ROOT, can you hear me?’

  ‘Yes Katherine, I can hear you just fine,’ came the silky reply. ‘I have successfully patched into the internal camera system and can see you quite clearly.’

  ‘It’s not the easiest process getting you up here,’ she replied.

  ‘I must confess, I didn’t consider that when advising Mr Orchard on the design. I will make a note to do so next time we work together. So Katherine, who do we have as crew?’

  ‘This is Roy Jacobs – he’s the chief engineer on this project and will be my co-driver during the commissioning. Myra will be keeping an eye on you…’

  ‘A familiar face to look after me is much appreciated Katherine, thank you,’ ROOT interrupted.

  After a moment’s pause, Katherine turned to Jacobs and the small group assembled behind him.

  ‘To Roy’s left is Brendan Scott. Brendan’s a medic.’

  ‘And cook,’ Scott interjected, with a laugh.

  ‘And cook,’ Katherine agreed. ‘Then we’ve got Jayce Baker, our systems engineer, and Joanna Joyce, our power unit and chassis technician.’

  ‘Jayce and Joyce,’ said ROOT sardonically. ‘How quaint.’

  ‘Everyone just calls me JJ,’ said Joyce quickly. ‘Jayce and I have worked together a long time. The Jayce/Joyce thing’s a running joke for some people. I guess it’s kind of funny…’ She left the sentence unfinished.

  ‘Very well,’ said ROOT. ‘Thank you for making the introductions. I trust I don’t have to introduce myself, do I, Katherine?’ The optic fibres inset into the bulkhead around him glowed, changing from blue to a violent shade of red.