by Tracy Korn
“Locked on. Good to see you, Skull. We were getting nervous,” a woman’s voice says…and it’s familiar.
“Well, we couldn’t let you have all the fun, Luz.”
“Luz? Is that Ms. Reynolt?” I ask, narrowing a glance at Tark.
“The one and only, Mr. Hart,” she says over the comms. “Bring her in, and we’ll get you up to speed.”
“How many other teachers are with The Seam?” I ask Tark.
“Not enough, unfortunately.”
He barely finishes his sentence when the console projections thump, then glitch in and out before they return to normal.
“What was that? Error report?” I ask, entering my clearance into the console.
“We’re synced with the loading trajectory,” Tark adds. He pulls up a perimeter scan, but all we see is the outline of the Wraith and the white loading zone guide beams that form the cradle for our Sojourner.
“Organic interference at the starboard hull,” a female computer voice says.
“Organics? Out here?” Tark shakes his head and swipes away screen after screen like he’s looking for a specific one. “Luz, what’s happening up there?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. We have some company. Standby—securing the docking field, but it might get bumpy down there.”
“Are you going to tell me what—“ I start, but the man jumping directly onto the front of our ship, pressing his hands to the glass like some kind of frog climbing a jar, stops the words sideways in my throat. “What the hell is that!?”
He’s not wearing a suit so much as a skin, which is silver. His face is nearly as light with a blue tinge and seems to be covered in a thin layer of ice.
Tark’s eyes narrow. “That’s an Organic…hold on, Mr. Hart.”
“What’s an Organic?”
“Phase Three rejects—failed test subjects. He’s not even human anymore.”
None of what Tark is saying will process in my brain. Not while this man is crawling around the outside of our ship like some kind of bug on a windshield. He starts hammering his fists against the hull, his milky eyes unblinking. The console grid shakes and glitches again, this time going out entirely for several seconds. Another man and three women land on the hull behind him like they’ve just jumped from a platform above. I look up, but nothing is there and nothing shows on the scan.
“Where are they coming from?” I try to keep my voice level, but it’s loud all the same.
“Nowhere. And everywhere…”
“What is that supposed to mean!? People can’t just be out there like that. There’s no life support whatsoever. They don’t even have helmets!”
The Sojourner shakes violently before he can answer.
“Are you all right?” Ms. Reynolt says over the comms.
“We’re all right. What’s the containment percentage?” Tark asks. “They’re in here with us, Luz.”
“I know. We’re trying to extract them without damaging your ship. We’re at forty percent secured. Just hold tight; we’re working on it.”
“We can take about two more knocks like that before they push us off-trajectory. We won’t be able to outrun them if they pull us loose.”
“Copy that. Get everyone locked down. We may need to rattle your cage a little,” another man says over the comms… Is that Denison? I shoot a glance at Tark and ask him as much. He gives me a quick nod, and everything starts coming together. We had more help than we thought getting out of Gaia. “Everybody, get secure,” Tark says over the internal comms. “Calyx, we’ve got Organics. Make sure everyone is strapped down. Briggs has some fireworks for us.”
“Oh, great,” Calyx says. I shake my head, feeling useless.
“What can I do?” I ask, trying not to stare at the actual people crawling on the starboard hull.
“Get locked in and hang on tight. It’s going to get bright in here in about twenty seconds.
“Electric anomaly detected,” the ship’s computer voice says much too calmly for what’s going on all around us. One of the Organic women bangs her head on the windshield several times, causing a split down the center of her forehead. The blood freezes immediately, but she just keeps banging.
“What are they supposed to be?” I ask, feeling repulsion and fear wrestling for control of my voice.
“The Phase Three rejects…the ones they could not get to sustain long-term oxygen deprivation and cold.”
“Uh, it looks like they’re sustaining both just fine to me,” I say as one of the other women moves closer to the first, this one pounding on the hull with her fists.
“Sometimes, they’re disposed of when testing indicates they won’t be able to meet future test requirements. It’s a damn waste of life.” Tark enters a final combination. “Their minds are gone.”
“Stabilizers engaged,” the ship voice says, and a little hum shoots through my ears again. A few seconds later, blinding light floods the window in front of me and the Sojourner begins to shake.
“Hold on!” Tark says. “We’ve got two more of those, and then we should be clean.”
“Damage report, twelve percent starboard. Organic matter lodged—segment 33,” the ship voice says, and two more blasts of light precede episodes of violent shaking. Finally, everything is still again.
“Everyone OK?” Dr. Denison’s voice comes over the comms.
“We’re all right down here. Are they gone?” Tark replies.
“For now, minus a dead tagalong. Let’s get everyone aboard.”
CHAPTER 13
Landing
Jazz
Research sabbatical? I think but manage to stop the words before they come out of my mouth.
Liam pauses for a second, then begins nodding. “Of course, of course. I was afraid of this. Could you please direct us to your transfer unit? We’re already so late.”
The man with the water hair raises a dark eyebrow at us, looking from Liam to me, then at Vox. She puckers a kiss at him like a mollusk, and now both his eyebrows raise.
“And you are?” he asks.
“Consultants on…the project. I’m sorry, but that’s all I’m at liberty to discuss with the public. Surely, you understand with the nature of our work.” Liam leans on the counter between us and the man with the water hair, who gives us another suspicious look. “Please, we are already risking the contract. It’s imperative that you direct us to the transport unit.”
“Of course,” the man finally says after taking a long, deep breath through his nose. “I assume all your credentials must be in order.”
“Naturally…” Liam shrugs. “Would you like to see them?” He feigns looking for something in the chest pocket of his coat.
“Oh,” the man says, then smiles at us. “No, no, that won’t be necessary. Please give my regards to Mr. Sprague. I, for one, will anxiously be awaiting his new release.”
“New release?” Vox asks, and Liam stares knives at her. The man with the water hair shoots her a puzzled look.
“Why, yes. The new virtuo-cine he’s researching?”
“Yes, yes. Forgive my assistant, she’s new. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you, Mr.…?”
“Delaney. Argus Delaney. And thank you so much.” The man’s lips quiver until he presses the excitement out of them, forcing again a dignified half-smile. Liam nods several times and then straightens.
“Of course, of course. The cines would be nothing without wonderful fans like you. If you would please excuse us, however, I’m afraid we are already quite late.” Liam turns abruptly to me. “The survey clearance? You did bring the survey clearance?”
I look at him blankly for a second until his eyes widen just a little and he leans a few inches forward. Oh, I’m supposed to play along.
“Yes, of course, what do you think, this is my first day?” I shoot a glance at Vox and give her a thin smile just because I can. She narrows her eyes at me, and the corner of Liam’s mouth quirks before he turns back to the man with the water hair.
“Wonderful, then we’ll be on our way with your kind help, my friend,” he adds, but the water man just stares for a second until Liam clears his throat. “The, uh… direction of your transport?”
The man startles, then blinks several times before he flushes and nods repeatedly. “Yes, just around the corner. Bon voyage!” He waves us down a corridor.
“You just thought of all that off the top of your head?” I ask Liam as we approach a room at the end of the hall. Inside, a steel ring encloses another flat, steel circle with a holographic display rising up from the floor to about shoulder height. Liam punches something into it, and a blue light scans him.
“Didn’t have much of a choice. You did pretty well on cue yourself,” he says with a quick smile.
“Didn’t have much of a choice,” I answer, but that’s all I can say before Vox sighs loudly.
“So we have to get turned into space dust again? Is that what’s happening here with this thing?”
“Good day, Anton Fisk,” a young man’s voice says from the holographic console. “Please enter your destination coordinates.”
“Anton Fisk, Senior Creative Director, Cineworks International?” Liam reads out loud, then sticks out his bottom lip and nods. “Thank you, Dot. All right, let’s see where you went, Ludwig Sprague.” He pulls a thin, silver rod from his pocket and begins tapping it on the console key panel. After a second, the screen display is replaced with a new block of code.
Liam shakes his head slowly and narrows his eyes.
“What? Don’t you see Liddick?” I ask, feeling the blood start to pound in my ears.
“No, he came through this hub…but he came out in the middle of nowhere. It says he hopped to a hub on the Skyboard mountain perimeter. There’s nothing out there but…”
“Sand,” Vox says under her breath.
“They sent him back to Earth? Topside? What kind of research could he—“ I start, but then stop as hope dawns on me. “Do you think maybe he escaped?” I barely say this out loud because I’m afraid I might scare away the possibility.
Liam punches something else into the console with the little rod, and after another second, shakes his head again.
“No, he wasn’t the first one to jump to these coordinates. Someone went ahead to receive him on the other side. Three others followed him,” he says, reading the console display. “We just missed them by maybe six hours.”
“Let’s go then. Come on before they get too far,” I say, but Liam looks more frustrated than ever.
“We don’t know what we’re walking into. Give me a second to think,” he says after a beat.
“Think about what?” Vox asks almost immediately. “Can we parachute down there?”
“What? No,” Liam answers.
“So fire up this crate and let’s go.”
Liam looks at me for a second like I have a rationale comeback for Vox, but actually, I don’t. I shrug and nod. He takes a deep breath, then blows it out all at once.
“All right. Follow me in here after it scans you, and hold as still as you can,” he says, punching something else into the console. A blue light scans him again, and the young man’s voice starts up.
“Welcome, Anton Fisk. Have a good trip. Next transport, please?” Vox steps into place, and the blue light scans her too. “Welcome, Kitty Spark.”
“Ooh, Splice Corps Inc., Cinematics…” she reads. “What does that mean? Am I some bio-grunt?”
Liam rolls his eyes. “Cinematics…you’re a processing editor. Come on.”
“What’s a processing editor?”
“In charge of the storyboarders—come on!”
“Oh, good. I’m your boyfriend’s boss…” Vox says, clicking the side of her mouth at me.
I roll my eyes at her as she finally gets onto the circular platform with Liam, then step in front of the console. The blue light hits me in the eyes, which makes me squint for a second.
Uta Lindall? I read. “TruYou Designs, Glyph Operative Unit,” I say out loud, then step onto the platform. “Does that mean I create the characters?”
“No, you program them,” Liam answers just before a blinding white light floods everything.
***
Eco or Calyx, or whoever told us port-carnate gets easier with each subsequent transfer, was a liar. When the white light fades and my ears finally stop buzzing, I still feel like I’m frozen in a block of ice…a block of ice that’s buried under a building.
As my vision clears, I see a man standing near the far wall of this…little shack? Where are we? I think.
“A transfer under the name Ludwig Sprague came through here not too long ago,” Liam says to the man. “Where did he go?”
The man taps at his holographic console but can’t seem to get it to do more than flicker at him.
“You scramble my logs? Did you do this?” The man gestures to his console, then widens his eyes at Liam. “Where you coming from? I didn’t authorize your hop here.”
“This is above your pay grade. Spaulding sent us, and that’s all you need to know. Ludwig Sprague and his team? Now!” Liam is so adamant, for a second, I almost believe him too.
Feeling starts to come back into my fingertips, and my vision sharpens. The man is much bigger than Liam with greasy, dark hair pulled into a ponytail. With his dingy white shirt and leather vest, he looks like a Badlander. He tries punching something else into his console, but it only glitches at him again.
“I got no authorization for any of you. I only had clearance for the kid and them other sky ferrets.”
Oh, I’m stealing that one, Vox thinks, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
“That’s it? What about the rendezvous team?” Liam asks, looking worried.
“The ronday-who?” The man scrunches up his face like the word smells bad.
“The others who met them? Are you telling me they didn’t show up?” Liam asks, this time more exasperated. He pushes both hands through his sun-streaked hair, then turns to me. “I told you we should have gotten here to secure the reception team.”
“Uh…I’m…sorry?” I mutter.
He’s an even better spinner than I am, Vox thinks, sticking out her bottom lip and nodding just a little to herself. Liam turns back to the Badlander, who has now given up trying to use his console.
“Look, do you have grease in your ears?” Liam asks, taking a step toward him. “I said this comes from the top. From Spaulding. Now if you want to see tomorrow, I suggest you don’t make me notify him that not only did you not secure a reception team, but now you’re delaying the shadow team too!”
I realize my mouth is open and shut it quickly. The man blanches and meets my eyes. I thin my lips and shake my head at him, willing myself with everything I am not to laugh.
“Hey, we had a reception team! Grisham sent ‘em personally on account it was Liddick! When all his bits was back in place, he and that Admin City handler made for the cannibal tunnels with the three of ‘em and the gear they brought. Ain’t nobody said to wait for no shadow team. I got no clearance or preloaded entry code on that,” the man says, almost pleading.
“Well, at least you didn’t bollocks that up, then. I guess I won’t have to report you to Spaulding after all. Where is Grisham?”
“He was meeting you all in Admin City.” The man narrows his eyes now at Liam.
“He’s already meeting with Spaulding? Great,” Liam says, pretending to search for something in his coat. He shoots me a worried look. “Do you have the coordinates?”
“Uh…no?” I say, hoping that’s the right thing.
“Crite! All right,” Liam says, then snaps his finger several times at the man. “You. Which tunnel entry point did they use? We need to catch up to them before they realize nobody is watching their backs out there!”
“You don’t know the—?”
“Do you want that on your head? You can kiss this candy job goodbye if something happens to them on your shift!” Liam a
dds, cutting off the man’s protest as he opens the flap of his white coat and pulls out the silver rod he used to hack the port-carnate hub back in Admin City. He holds it to his temple and closes his eyes. “Eight seconds until I connect to Spaulding and let him know how epically you’ve dropped the net out here!”
“All right! All right!” the man says without even taking a breath. He punches something into his console and starts reading to Liam. “They went to the far east perimeter,” he says, then looks up at him. “You ain’t gonna be able to catch up to them, though, least of all wearing them daylight suits you got on. You’d be bait out there for them cannibals.”
“He doesn’t have our wraps, either!?” I say, surprising myself as much as Liam. Vox looks at me like a proud parent, and I wrestle with my face to stay indignant. Liam raises his eyebrows at the man and holds out his hands to his sides, waiting for an answer.
“I…uh…” is all the man can manage.
“That’s it. I’m calling this in,” Liam says, shoving past the man to access his console. He tosses the silver rod to Vox as he passes. “Kitty, pull up a list of doorkeepers who can port down here right now and replace this useless one.” Vox’s lips quirk as she pushes her eyebrows together and raises the long, metal rod to her temple. “Ensign?” Liam continues, reading the console. “What kind of name is Ensign?”
All the blood drains from the man’s face just before he rushes past Vox and me.
“Wait! Wait…uh, here. Burlap should do ya. Gonna be awful sweltery with them long coats you already got on, though,” he says, pulling the tarps off the counters along the back wall. Dust flies everywhere and stings my eyes. I hold my breath and wave my hands in front of my face to clear it, but it doesn’t do much good.
Liam finishes punching something into the console, then takes off his white coat and tosses it on the back counter, making more dust fly in the air. He wraps the tarp around him like a cape and throws one side over his shoulder. Vox and I do the same. A second later, she steps into the doorway looking at Liam and me like we’re making her late.
“Are you coming?”