Moonsteed

by Manda Benson

  “Here goes nothing.” Verity unbuckled and pushed up from the seat. She unscrewed the hatch, braced her knees against the shoulders of the chair, then, fingers tensed on the hilt of her wakizashi, threw open the door and kicked up into the unknown.

  A short cylindrical tunnel with dimly reflective sides lay without. Verity released her weapon and put both hands flat against the surface, absorbing her momentum before she overshot the aperture at the end.

  Cautiously, she inched to the end of the tube, her knees and feet catching the metal surface, sending dull noises echoing through the walls. She brought the top of her head out of the tunnel carefully, until her eyes were level with the rim. She looked out from a concave roof, a honeycomb pattern marking the exits from the docking apertures on the other side. Directly above her position, the central barrel of the centrifuge slowly turned, filling the air with a faint hum just within the threshold of hearing.

  Peering around, she saw no evidence of surveillance or other people, so she reached out to one of the handle rails and silently pivoted over on it, until her head pointed back toward the exit. The inner door lay back, flat on its hinges. Verity hoisted it up, closing it over the aperture, and noted the number bolted to its outside surface, twelve. She turned the handle in the center to lock the door, and gripped the rail with her knees as she reached behind her back into the pocket of the bag to withdraw the piece of paper she’d written inside the yacht. She held it up to the door and pressed her thumbs firmly on the corners to fix it in place.

  This airlock has an outer door fault and has been reported

  Please do not attempt to use

  A single pole with ladder rungs stretched from the middle point of the concave honeycomb of airlocks to an indentation in the center of the centrifuge’s rotating wall about ten feet in diameter. Verity used the rungs on the edges of the airlock doors to swing herself hand over hand over to the ladder, and scrambled down it. As she drew closer to the cylindrical hole in the wall, she began to make out details in its sides. Four holes had been molded through the solid metal at ninety degrees. Two were narrow, with ladder rungs curving out and riveted to the exits, but the other two had wide openings that flared backward against the direction of rotation, funneling into reflective depths stretching away into an invisible darkness.

  “It’s a chute,” Verity thought, pressing her insteps into the pole to take the strain off her arms. Above her head, the pole of the ladder disappeared into a hole in the rotating hub. “It must run all the way down one of the spokes to the habitable rim.”

  “How are we going to check what’s down there? That it’s safe?”

  “I’ve brought a fiber-optic periscope,” Verity considered. “But it’s probably not long enough, and I won’t be able to run it down with it rotating like that.” She tried to follow the motion of the apertures as they turned past her, but the muscles of her eyes hurt from looking side-to-side. There wasn’t really any option: she would have to go and hope no one was at the bottom to notice her arrival.

  “Don’t go shouting ‘Whee!’ as you go, or they’ll all hear and we’ll get captured,” said Anthony.

  “Stop treating me like I’m a kid!”

  “You are a kid.”

  “I’m a sergeant in the Sky Forces!”

  “The Sky Forces are just a whole load of kids playing with their space toys.”

  Verity trod the edges of her heels on a rung and pivoted herself back by leaning away from the rung in her hands. She fixed on one of the chute entrances as it rotated slowly past, timing it so she released and leaned in, pushing off as the chute came around to meet her. The rotation ran the sloped wall into her chest, and immediately she began to slide headfirst down the pipe. She put one hand down to the hilt of her katana, her other arm bent up to guard her face as she slid faster into the unknown.

  For what seemed a long time she fell in darkness. The angle of the wall decreased, and before she realized what was happening, light appeared ahead and she shot horizontally into an annex. The first thing she saw before her eyes had even adjusted to the light was a padded wall and a pile of cushions hurtling toward her. She yelled out, managing to twist to her side before she crashed into them.

  Verity rolled onto her knees, reaching for her katana, but the annex was empty. A windowed double door led to a lobby with a metal staircase. She got to her feet and looked through. Nobody there. The stairs brought her down to another double door, leading to a corridor, that stretched away in both directions. The curvature of the ceiling was ever so slightly apparent, more obvious in the distances where perspective drew the walls together.

  She stepped over to one of the other doors leading off, and chanced a look through the window. It appeared to be a science lab with glass and metal apparatus on the benches, far wall lined with fume cupboards, sinks and electrical appliances everywhere. The other doors nearby were also laboratories, and each door had a number. Farther along the corridor she came across doors labeled freezer and centrifuge room and autoclave.

  “Anthony, do you know anything about what sort of science goes on in these labs?”

  “Could be biochemistry of some sort. Can’t rule out genetic engineering. Looks as if they’re understaffed, unless they’re all on lunch or at a meeting.”

  Footfall and voices became audible from somewhere in the corridor ahead. “Why’d you have to comment on that? That was just tempting Sod’s Law, and now we’ve got company!”

  Verity scoped a nearby window, not entirely sure the room behind was empty and not having the time to risk making sure. She threw it open and dived behind some lab coats hanging on hooks beside the door, and waited in a stink of chemicals and men’s armpits as the footsteps and conversation grew louder. The sounds reached a crescendo and began to recede again, and Verity relaxed from her stiff, flattened posture against the wall.

  “What exactly are you planning on doing?” Anthony asked.

  “I’m going to find Farron and kill him like I was told.”

  “You were also told to destroy his research. You think these labs contain his research?”

  “I don’t know. The Magnolia Order’s intelligence says he’s breeding some kind of army. If the rest of the orbital complex looks like this, then taking into account the space needed for the ordinary atmosphere machinery and stuff that’s needed just to live in a place like this, there’s not room for an army on it.”

  “Then his research might be somewhere else. In which case we’d be best off not killing him straight away, because if we do that we’re not getting off here alive, but sticking to espionage until we know more about what’s going on.”

  “We have to find the Commodore.”

  “What?”

  “Commodore Smith. He’s disappeared. He must have discovered something and suspected Farron, and Farron must have had him transferred up here as a prisoner. If we can rescue him and explain what’s happening, he must know what to do. After all, he is a commodore.”

  The lab coats concealing Verity were ripped apart like curtains. She pressed back hard against the wall, hand flying to her wakizashi. Before her, Vladimir let out a loud yell and shot his hand to his heart, a heap of research papers falling from under his arm to the floor.

  “It’s you!” Verity exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” His gaze wandered up to the bandana covering her forehead. “Why are you dressed up like you’re pretending to be a commando?”

  “It’s an electromagnetic blindfold. So the ANT can’t tell I’m here.” His comment had reminded her of Anthony’s earlier one about commandos. “I’m not wearing any underwear under my space armor, either.”

  Vladimir’s eyes went wide and his face reddened. “That’s really immature.” He turned, putting his hand to his chin in embarrassment.

  “What are you doing here anyway? Have you seen Farron?”

  “Farron? The Inquisitor? Not seen him since yesterday sometime on Callisto.”

&nbs
p; Verity let out a strident exhalation. “He was on the lander that brought you here. You can’t possibly have missed him.”

  “He wasn’t. The Inquisitor wasn’t on the lander. Just me and two women.”

  “He was going up to this orbital in that lander that’s now docked on the outside. He must have been in it, and you mustn’t have noticed.”

  “Yes, Farron, the Inquisitor, I know what he looks like,” said Vladimir testily. “He’s got red hair, medium height, sort of stocky. He’s got shunts stuck all over his forehead.” He brought both hands up to his face. “I’d have noticed if he was there.”

  “There must have been another room or something where you didn’t see him.”

  “No.”

  “Well, where is he, then?”

  Vladimir shrugged and turned his palms upward. “It would make logical sense, if he wasn’t on the lander, and there have been no other landers, that he is still on Callisto.”

  “He can’t be. The ANT there would have noticed.”

  “This ANT hasn’t noticed you’re here.”

  That made sense. But why had Farron said he was going when he wasn’t? And what could he be doing on Callisto? It didn’t make sense that he would hide for half of each local day, wearing an electromagnetic blindfold. “All right. Have you seen Commodore Smith up here?”

  Vladimir shook his head vigorously.

  “So why is it you’re here and no one else who’s missing?”

  “I got a message claiming to be from my boss in Torrmede, saying I was being recalled because of a problem with my results. When I got on the shuttle, it brought me here, and I was expecting to be put on the next runner ship back. But it turned out the message was a fake and it had come from some people on this orbital.”

  Vladimir had a cocky, jubilant effusion to his mannerisms and parlance.

  Verity said, “Oh yes?”

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s exempt from the Information Terrorism Act on grounds of being unpublished research, so don’t tell anyone else. They’re headhunters... I mean career headhunters. They’d read one of my papers and liked my ideas, and they want to offer me a research position here, conditional on my completing my PhD!”

  Verity grimaced. “Doing what?”

  “Well, don’t tell anyone this either, but they’re looking to identify the genes in chimpanzees that are responsible for their strength and aggression, so they can remove them from the genome and make chimps that are easier and safer for people to work with.”

  “Right. And you want to do that?”

  “Well, I’m not so sure. To be honest, chimps are vicious, dangerous animals that belong in the wild, not with humans. But, on the other hand, it might be a really good opportunity for me to get some experience that’ll look good on my CV.”

  “Your experience is in working with horse genetics, isn’t it? Why do they want you, specifically, to work on primate genetics? Surely there are plenty of other genetic engineers who have backgrounds in that particular area?”

  “I’m not sure. They must have really liked my paper. Doctor Smedley talked about my results a lot. He was an interesting person to talk to. I think I’d enjoy working with him, and it was nice of him to look me up and take such an interest in my work.”

  “But don’t you think it sounds weird?” said Verity. “Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff? Why the faked communication?”

  “I don’t know. I admit that message really scared me. I thought someone must have accused me of fudging my results or something, and I was going to get hauled up before the board.”

  “So you left without telling anyone?”

  “Would you tell anyone if you had reason to think you might be about to lose your job and everything you’d spent your life working for in an utterly ignominious way?”

  “But you left without telling anyone. Like that’s what they wanted you to do. Vladimir, what if they’re doing something other than what they’ve told you, and they’re trying to use you to do something wrong?”

  “Well, why would they? What else could it be?”

  “What if they want to identify the genes responsible for strength and aggression in chimpanzees, not so they can remove them from chimpanzees’ genomes, but so they can insert them into human genomes?”

  “Why would anyone do that? Apart from being illegal, it would just make psychopaths and murderers. No one wants any more of those.”

  “What if it was to make an army? An army born to be ruthless and brutal--a genetically modified army of beastly soldiers?”

  Vladimir’s frown deepened. “That wouldn’t work. You’re in the Sky Forces. You must know that a military force needs discipline. If they were that aggressive they’d be ruled by their own instincts and attack each other. There’d be no way of controlling them properly. It’d be bedlam.”

  “This is Farron we’re talking about. If the evidence the Magnolia Order has on him is correct, he can make people think and act how he wants them to. He probably thinks he can control this army.”

  “I’ve had a full tour of these facilities. It’s not big enough to hide something like that. It’s all labs and just the ordinary facilities you’d expect to find on an orbital complex. There’s nothing of that sort here. And there’s no inquisitors’ equipment, so it makes even less sense that Farron would be coming up here.”

  “Then it must be somewhere else! What’s going on here must only be a part of it! Anthony--the Magnolia Order--there’s evidence that he’s doing something out here, and it’s illegal and a risk to the integrity of the Meritocracy. And I have to get to the bottom of it.”

  He sighed and set his fists on his hips, crumpling his lab coat at the shoulders and thrusting out his chest. “What is the Magnolia Order?”

  “I--” Verity locked eyes with him, then closed her mouth. “--can’t tell you.”

  “Right, well, that settles it. I don’t know how you got in here, but you can just go back out the same way. I’ve been invited here perfectly legitimately to talk about science, and you come barging in here, wearing an electromagnetic blindfold that shows you’re obviously not even meant to be here in the first place, and start making these ridiculous allegations!”

  “Farron must have been on the lander! He said he was leaving for this orbital. There’s nowhere else he could have gone.”

  “He’s not! You’ve obviously made a mistake, and if you ask me, you really ought to see a specialist about paranoia or some other mental disorder.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that.” Verity took a step toward him, her hand on her katana handle.

  Vladimir raised his eyebrows and pushed his chest out more. “I’ll talk to you how the hell I like! In fact, if you don’t leave now, I’m going to put a report on the ANT saying there’s a suspected terrorist come aboard without permission.”

  This sudden change in him sent a startled sort of arousal into Verity. He was big and noisy, and his slight Russian accent was...and she wanted to put her hands under his lab coat for a feel of him. “Stop it, Anthony,” she thought.

  “I’m not doing anything!”

  Verity shook her head. “You have to come with me! Farron’s dangerous and it’s not safe here!”

  Vladimir let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, really, this is silly.”

  “I’ll radio Torrmede and report you to your boss for dereliction of your research!”

  Vladimir’s expression fell.

  “Look, I’ll try to explain this better to you and go through the evidence we’ve got, but there’s no time to do it here. You have to believe me, and we have to get off this orbital. Besides, I’ve got a sun-yacht. And it has stuff like meat and cheese and proper food on board.”

  He set his mouth grimly. “Perhaps it is better I get back to Callisto and get on with my research sooner rather than later. I should write them a note explaining where I’ve gone, though.” He turned and gathered his papers and his computer, tucking them under his arm.

  “You
’d better put them in here.” Verity hurriedly opened her bag and held it out to him. “We need to climb up to the docking area. And don’t bother wasting time writing them a note.”

  “What if after I finish my PhD, I decide I want to work here? What if nowhere else will give me a job? They’ll think I’m rude if I just disappear.”

  “Look, I’ve already told you they don’t want you to work here. At least not doing any work you won’t be arrested for.” Verity went back to the door and checked left and right through the window, an action made easy by the curvature of the corridor. “Where’s the nearest way up to the airlock hub?”

  “That way.”

  “You’d better go there first and wait for me in that case.”

  Grumbling to himself, lab coat trailing behind him, Vladimir opened the door and set off down the corridor. Verity waited until he was far in the distance before checking carefully in both directions and following. As it turned out, they saw no one else.

  The exit to the airlock bay lay up more stairs, and it was just a vertical tunnel with a ladder leading up. Verity remembered with a feeling of dread the long fall down as she set hands and feet to rungs.

  Light came from flat panels on the back of the wall. Soon, Verity’s shoulders, back and thighs began to ache.

  “People who live here don’t need a gym,” Vladimir complained from somewhere below her.

  It was cramped and uncomfortably warm in the narrow space, and Verity couldn’t stop thinking about how Vladimir had looked at her back in the lab.

  “I take it it’s not just the exercise that’s making you hot and sweaty and out of breath,” Anthony thought.

  “Stop taking the piss!”

  “Shut up!” she said. “What if someone hears?”

  “They won’t hear. We’ve been climbing for ages. They’re too far away.”

  “Sounds will just reflect back and forth all the way down these tubes.”

  After an ascent that seemed interminable, the gravity slowly grew lesser and she made out a circle of light ahead, the fishbone pole-ladder rotating slowly in the center. She hauled herself up and reached out to get hold of the central pole. It rotated against her palm. She heaved herself up out of the tube and fell back into weightlessness, pulling hand-over-hand.