by J G Cressey
Cal nodded. “It’s for the best. Viktor has many talents, but fighting isn’t one of them, unless of course it’s a virtual—”
“How’s about this one, Ed?” Toker shouted, drowning out Cal’s words. “Reckon it’s more your size.”
Cal turned to see Toker strolling towards Eddy, holding a tiny slimline pulse pistol between his thumb and forefinger.
“Get that bloody girls’ weapon outa my face, bugger lugs. I got my weapon right here. Just gotta work out a technique is all.”
Cal was amazed to see that Eddy had managed to lift one end of the mighty Gibson gun, the barrel tips grinding against the metal deck while its butt rested on her trembling knee. The petite girl was still a world away from wielding the weapon, but he was still damn impressed.
“Geeze chick, give it up,” Toker almost pleaded. “Why the hell’re you trying to lift that bloody great thing now, anyway? We’re not even on the planet yet.”
“Cos, idiot, you never go into battle with an untested weapon,” she replied, her voice shaking and her slim limbs clearly suffering under the command of her unyielding resolve. “I got some armor plating set up out there in the loading bay. I’ll blast off a few rounds so I can get used to the gun’s kickback.”
“Ed, where exactly is your little brain at this precise moment? I’m just curious.” Toker glanced back at Cal and Kaia.
“There ain’t nothing wrong with my brain or my plan.”
“Actually, Eddy, I’m afraid none of the weapons will work yet,” Kaia informed her a little tentatively. “Even from this distance, the pulse disrupter from the Insidion base is fully effective.”
Still refusing to give in to the Gibson gun’s massive dead weight, Eddy risked a quick glance around. “Pulse what now?”
“The pulse disrupter…the thing I was explaining last night, remember? When we were going through the plan.”
Eddy shifted her grip on the weapon a little. “What’s she goin’ on about, Cal?”
Cal looked at Kaia with an almost apologetic shake of the head. Eddy had been distant over the last week. When she was around, she barely listened, and when she did listen, she disagreed. She was hostile, and most of it was directed at Kaia. “None of the weapons are going to work yet, Eddy. Not until we’ve taken out the Insidions’ pulse disrupter.”
Eddy swore as the Gibson gun finally slipped from her increasingly sweaty grip and slid harshly down her trembling leg to thud loudly onto the deck. If her leg was in pain—and Cal imagined it probably was—she didn’t let it show. “So let’s go an’ take care of this pulse thingy now then.”
Cal rubbed the back of his head, wondering if his words were actually sinking in this time. “Well actually, yes, that’s the plan. Kaia and I are going to take care of the disrupter, but we’ll need you to help with the escape…help keep the prisoners safe.”
Eddy sniffed and paused for a moment mulling over what he’d said, then said, “Course, Cal, they’ll be safe with me around, ‘specially once I’ve worked out how to lift this bloody gun.” She looked down at the huge chunk of metal with a creased brow. Cal guessed her confidence was finally beginning to wane. Still, true to her usual form, she reached down yet again and wrapped her perspiring fingers around two of the gun’s thick barrels.
Cal started forward, but Kaia laid a hand on his shoulder. “Eddy, I have something that will help,” she said, walking over to the girl.
“Not that bloody green stuff again.”
Kaia nodded. “You missed out when the others tried it.”
“Had stuff to do,” Eddy said then hefted one end of the gun off the floor with a grunt. “Important stuff.” Only inches from the ground, the Gibson gun once again slipped from her grasp and hammered into the deck. “Bloody, flippin’ ‘eck,” she spat then straightened up and gave a loud huff. Wiping her sweaty hands on her combat pants, she looked around suspiciously at Kaia.
Kaia was holding out one of the Xcel syringes. “It really will help,” she said encouragingly.
“Trust her, Ed,” Toker said. “It’s bloody good stuff. An’ I really don’t hold out much hope for your technique if you don’t.”
Eddy looked at Toker then peered at the little syringe dubiously then back at Kaia even more dubiously.
“You’ll like it,” Kaia persisted. “You put this end against your neck and press the button just here.”
Cal gave the girl an encouraging nod as she looked his way.
After one last glance at the Gibson gun, Eddy wordlessly snatched the bright green serum out of Kaia’s open hand, sniffed twice, shrugged once, and then shoved it roughly against her neck. Giving Kaia one last suspicious look, she pressed the button.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
WAITING
Laurence wasn’t overly keen on this waiting business. Attempting to operate the mining machinery and acting the normal downcast under the watchful eye of the roaming drone guards was proving tricky. With the knowledge of what was soon to unfold rolling about in his head, he could barely keep the weird cocktail of fear and excitement from bursting forth onto his face. On top of that was the fact that his mouth kept suffering almost spasm-like grins that he hadn’t experienced since childhood; they came whenever he thought of that weird green liquid Callum Harper had given him. Its effects had been everything the man had promised and more. Laurence could only hope that his thick beard was doing something to conceal these stupid grins because, try as he might, he couldn’t stop them coming.
There were no such grins on the men and women working around him. Being told of the serum and actually sampling it were very different things. Still, their faith in him remained true. He still couldn’t quite get his head around the fact that each and every one of them seemed utterly trusting in his words and judgement. The previous evening, those who had been carefully selected had intently listened to him as he’d laid out the proposed escape plan. No one had argued or questioned it. On the contrary, they’d all accepted it without hesitation, and many had even voiced their approval. Perhaps they were desperate, or perhaps they simply believed. The plan had then been relayed to the countless others, and it wasn’t long before every person in the camp knew every detail. Not one negative report had been voiced. Laurence had been pleased at that, but he wished that they’d all been able to feel the miraculous experience of the serum. It would have undoubtedly removed a great deal of their fear.
Switching his disc saw off, he retracted it from the rock beneath him. As he repositioned the blade, another uncontrollable grin struck him. That serum had made him feel something close to invincible. So much so that after a whole load of running around and lifting of numerous heavy rocks, he’d gotten carried away and ended up in an arm wrestle with one of Tark’s larger Carcarrion friends. He hadn’t won, but he’d definitely given his big opponent something to think about. Best of all though, he’d managed to wipe that annoyingly impassive mask from the alien’s face just long enough for something resembling surprise to appear in its place. Fortunately, the resulting claw gashes on his hands and wrist were healing rapidly. Laurence hoped there’d be a scar or two; he wanted to remember that glorious experience for the rest of his life, however short that may turn out to be.
Eventually, he got his grin under control. Won’t be long now, he thought as he stretched his back and looked to the horizon. He could see distant black clouds building. They were moving towards the camp like some sort of slow-motion, soot-filled explosion. Such clouds had been common of late, seeming to form practically every evening. These, however, appeared larger and denser than the norm. He could even see bright, white crackles within their depths, which was something he’d only witnessed a couple of times before. A dry storm. If he was right, there’d be no rain, but a wind force would more than make up for it.
What the hell is it with storms? Laurence mused. So often, they’d arrive when a battle was about to commence. He’d never actually been in a battle—he’d been too precious for that—but he’d seen hundreds o
f them. Sitting comfortably in the command deck of his starship, he’d watched almost idly as the live images were relayed from the multiple buzz cams hovering above the bloody action. Sifting through his mental catalog, he could barely recall a single one that hadn’t been accompanied by some kind of extreme weather: snow storms, sand storms, tropical tempests. One time, he’d even witnessed an entire squad of rebel colonists getting sucked up into a tornado on the dusty plains of Giddion III. The unfortunate buggers had been winning too.
Laurence turned his attentions from the horizon and back down to his disc saw. The approaching storm clouds were close enough now for the warning rumbles to be heard. The sound was softer, lower-pitched than that of the distant volcanoes but somehow held more menace. He shook his head. Just like all the others, this battle was going to get its storm, and it was a big one at that. Starting up his saw, he mused whether it was Mother Nature showing her disapproval of the violence soon to take place. Then, he pressed the saw down into the rock and smiled a humorless smile.
Or maybe she just wanted to join in.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
THE SYNC SPHERE
“She’s all fired up,” Kaia called out as she sat herself at the main control console for the sync sphere.
Cal felt clear-headed and confident as he bounded up the last few steps of the platform and approached the large, silver sphere. There had been a long night of waiting. Preparations had been completed, checked, rechecked, then rechecked a couple more times. Cal had never been overly keen on that stage, but now that the plan was underway, his mind had reached a level of focus that pushed any lingering fears and doubts aside. In short, he was feeling like the plan might actually work.
The platform on which he stood was about ten feet in height and fifteen feet in diameter. With Melinda’s help, Jumper and Viktor had cleared equipment from the center of Kaia’s bio lab in order to erect it. The sync sphere sat in the very center of the platform. It was a shiny, silver ball, ten feet in diameter and flawless except for a large, wedge-shaped entrance hatch in its side.
“How does the suit feel?” Kaia asked.
Cal turned to look down at her. There was an amused curl at the corners of her mouth as she busily tapped away at her controls. He was glad to see it. Now that the plan was in motion, her anxieties seemed to have calmed.
“Snug,” he replied. The suit she was referring to had been specially designed for use within the sphere. It was black and silver and tightly covered every inch of his body with the exception of his mouth and eyes. He wound his arms around in a circle, testing the suit’s flexibility for the hundredth time. The boy in him felt like some kind of superhero. The adult in him felt like an idiot.
“Okay, you’re all good to go,” Kaia said, her amused smile turning into an encouraging one. “Once you’re inside and hooked up, I’ll run a few tests to make sure the sphere’s running smoothly.”
Cal nodded and raised a fist with an extended thumb. As he turned to the sphere, he silently cursed himself. A thumbs up? He couldn’t have come up with a less heroic gesture if he’d tried. Shaking his head, he stepped through the wedge-shaped hatch into the hollow sphere, and the hatch sealed shut behind him.
Once inside, the sphere’s concave walls appeared transparent as if they were constructed from one-way glass. Taking in the surrounding lab, Cal couldn’t help but feel like a bug in an upturned fishbowl. Turning his attentions downward, he located the pulsating red spot at the very bottom of the sphere that marked the point on which he was required to stand. “Can you hear me, Cal?” He heard Kaia ask as he positioned himself on the red marker.
“Loud and clear. I’m in position.”
“Good. I’m activating the feelers now.”
Cal gave his arms a little shake, flexed his fingers, and prepared himself with a couple of deep breaths. He’d already given the sphere a couple of trial runs, so he knew that the next few minutes would feel more than a little weird.
As if filling with liquid mercury, the transparent, concave walls rapidly began to turn silver from the bottom up, and within seconds, the sphere’s interior appeared as solid as its exterior. A second later, and every inch of that interior began to sprout what looked like tiny, metallic worms, literally millions of them. Tightly bunched and each no thicker than a needle, the feelers wriggled and squirmed as they extended almost menacingly towards him. It was as if the sphere’s interior was rapidly growing metallic hair. Indeed, just like Melinda’s long locks, every one of these feelers contained a mass of highly adaptable nano threads.
Cal did his best not to flinch or squirm as the wriggling feelers made contact with every millimeter of the suit he wore and began to communicate with the nerves of his skin. They configured around his lips to allow unobstructed breathing while smooth, goggle-shaped gaps formed over his eyes to give him a liquid mercury view. Not designed with claustrophobia in mind, he mused as he took a few calming breaths. Then, the mass of feelers lifted him and positioned him into the very center of the sphere.
Like much of the tech on board The Orillian, the sphere was a military prototype, its purpose to recreate a realistic sensory experience while enabling physical control of a remote, cybernetic avatar. Kaia had explained that, unlike the highly popular pleasure pods, the sync technology avoided the need to tap directly into a person’s brainstem to stimulate and trick the nervous system. Brainstem taps left the user confused, delirious even, for a good while after the experience. Cal guessed that the military considered this an unacceptable side effect. They preferred their soldiers not to be delirious under any circumstances unless under strict orders to be so. Fortunately, the sync sphere achieved similar trickery over the senses without any internal poking or probing and left the user relatively intact mentally and physically.
“How you doing in there, Cal?”
“Just peachy,” he replied as he experimentally moved his body around in a series of complex movements. With every motion he made, the feelers easily and naturally obliged as if he were simply floating in water. “Did I mention what an incredible machine this is the last time we used it?”
“Twice.”
The feelers obliged Cal’s grin.
“I’m just starting up a few tests. Tell me exactly what you feel.”
“Sure. Heat in my right thigh.”
“Yes, good.”
“A tapping against the back of my left hand. A sort of rippling down my upper back. Pressure under my feet.”
“Excellent. Okay, I’m increasing that pressure under your feet until it matches that of your normal body weight. There, now try jumping for me.”
Cal did so. The pressure against his feet felt exactly like solid ground, and when he jumped, he could even feel his feet leave that ground and meet it again a moment later. The feelers mimicked the various pressures and sensations with incredible precision and realism, even creating subtle air pressures against his skin. If it weren’t for the blank, silvery view before his eyes, he felt he might simply be jumping in a park.
“Okay, Cal, movements all seem fine.”
“So no making me hop on one foot for five minutes this time then?”
“I can assure you that was a valid test.”
Suddenly, the silvery view before Cal’s eyes disappeared, and he found himself standing in a flat, dusty desert with a deep blue, cloudless sky overhead.
“Visuals are coming though okay for me, Cal. How are they for you?”
“Perfect. You know, you really should let Viktor put some of his virtual worlds into this system; the kid’s got a talent for scenery.”
Sensing movement to his left, Cal turned to see the slightly unnerving sight of a fully grown giraffe plodding toward him, hoofs scuffing noisily on the hard, dusty ground. Soon, the awkward-looking beast was looming over him. Then it was bending its long neck and peering into his eyes. “Friend of yours?” he asked. The only answer he got was a wet, slurping sound as the beast opened its mouth, extended a long, purplish tongue, and
licked his face. Even though he knew it wasn’t there, Cal still felt the need to wipe the dripping saliva away from his cheek.
“How are the acoustics?”
“Terrific.”
“Good. Well…I guess it’s time.”
Cal could hear a hint of anxiety returning in Kaia’s voice, which he fully understood. “I guess so,” he replied, hoping she found his calm tone encouraging. “Let’s get to it.”
The desert view disappeared, and there was a moment of darkness while the system connected to its avatar. Down on the rocky surface of C9, the synthetic Carcarrion twitched within the cramped confines of the little Mosquito ship. Cal blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the sight of the ship’s cockpit. Looking down, he raised his arms to see jet black, thickly muscled forearms and large, clawed hands. He flexed them and felt the cybernetic power within. The feeling wasn’t new; twice before, he had taken control of the Infiltrator while it had been on The Orillian. Turning his head, he directed the pale, gray eyes to the ship’s readouts. Everything appeared to be in order. “Okay, Kaia, I’m hooked up. How’s your screen?”
“All good. I’m seeing everything crystal clear. I’ve disabled the mouth feelers so you can talk without the Infiltrator’s mouth moving.”
Cal hit the door release and experienced déjà vu as he took in the familiar sight of the dark C9 landscape. They had landed the Mosquito in precisely the same location as his previous excursion, and so far, the only thing distinguishing this visit from the other was his taller stature and an inability to smell the sulphur on the gusting wind. He looked toward the distant camp and then at the Insidion base beyond. This was the first time they’d risked any sort of remote signal from The Orillian to the planet surface. If the Insidions were going to detect their presence, now would be that time. “Well, I don’t see any cavalry yet.”
“Me neither. Maybe they’re lazily waiting for us to go to them,” Kaia replied.