Skyfall

by Anthony Eaton

  Janil stared back. ‘Absolutely, Father. Just like you said.’

  He jerked his arm free and walked out of the office.

  ‘Whatever it takes,’ he muttered to himself as he entered the lab. Crossing to the nearest terminal, he punched a clearance code into the com system, and waited for the chime to clear his request. Then he spoke clearly and steadily.

  ‘Head of Security Jenx, on a secure connection, please. From Doctor Janil Mann.’

  ‘I still don’t think this is a good idea, Larinan.’

  ‘Can you see any alternative?’

  His father’s silence was answer enough.

  ‘Me neither. Let’s get on with it, then.’ The burns on his face itched and tingled, but inside the helmet there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  ‘All right then, but remember, the first sign of discomfort, you tell me and I pull you out, okay? And leave your helmet on this time.’

  Lari didn’t need to be told. He’d been lucky. The medik had made that perfectly clear. As soon as he’d finished treating Lari, measuring his specific exposure points and feeding fluids into him, the medik had spoken to his father.

  ‘He’s going to be okay, I think, but it’s hard to say for certain. Looking at the burns suggests that his exposure levels should be well outside the daily limits, but, according to my readings, he’s actually just within safe parameters. If you’d tell me exactly what happened …’

  ‘I’m sorry, but as I’ve already informed you, that information is highly restricted. All we can tell you is that he was exposed to amplified light for a period of about four minutes.’

  ‘How concentrated was the light source?’

  ‘When he was exposed, the levels were at external midday norm.’

  The medik had given a low whistle. ‘Four minutes should have done a lot more damage. I assume his body was protected?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, he should thank the sky for that. Otherwise we’d have a shiftie on our hands. No doubt about it.’

  ‘Will there be any long-term implications of this, do you think?’

  ‘That’s impossible to say without knowing details of the exact radiation source, the degree of exposure and the precise specs of whatever shielded him. If you’d like to give me more information, I could probably find out…’

  ‘No, thank you. That will be fine. We can monitor him ourselves.’

  ‘If you wish.’ The medik had finished packing up his emergency kit. ‘He needs at least a week of rest and recovery. Lots of fluids, and monitor his temperature constantly. The gel I’ve put on his facial burns should help them heal up in the next couple of days, but if he develops a fever or skin lesions anywhere on his body, you need to get him to a med dome immediately. And absolutely no further exposure to any amplified light.’

  ‘For how long?’

  The medik had given Dernan Mann a long, hard look.

  ‘It’s never a good idea to risk it. I shouldn’t need to say more than that, Doctor Mann.’

  Eventually, he’d turned to Lari. ‘Rest up, young man, and be very careful what you do in the next few days. You were very lucky this morning. Next time, I don’t imagine you’ll be quite so fortunate.’

  Then, with a curt nod to his father, the medik had left. That was two days ago. Now, despite a bunch of misgivings which he kept to himself, Lari was suited up and about to go back inside.

  Back into the light.

  Stopping before the hatchway, he nervously rechecked the neck seal.

  ‘It’s fine, Larinan. I’ve double-checked it.’

  ‘I know. Sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ His father made one last quick inspection of the life-support system, then opened the outer door. ‘In you go. I’ll get up to obs and let you inside. Good luck.’

  Alone in the airlock, Lari could hear his breathing, so much faster than normal. For the first time it all felt somehow wrong. Even having his father suiting him up instead of Janil hadn’t felt right.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘All set.’

  ‘Opening.’

  The door opened and light spilled into the airlock. They’d deliberately left this visit until late in second shift, so that the reflected radiation inside wouldn’t be so intense, but all the same Lari couldn’t prevent himself stepping slightly backwards.

  ‘We’re open. You all right?’

  ‘Fine. Going in.’

  He toggled coms on as he stepped into the gleaming chamber, stopping just inside the door. At first he couldn’t see the girl, but then she rose from the floor on the other side of the podium.

  ‘Saria?’

  She regarded him quizzically, her head tilted to one side. The lights flared up, but not as much as usual.

  ‘Is that Lari?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How do I know?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘How do I know it’s you in that thing and not some other bloke? Or a woman, for that matter.’

  ‘You can’t tell from my voice?’

  ‘Nah. You lot all sound the same to me.’

  Something in her eyes made Lari suspect that the girl was teasing him, but he didn’t know her well enough to be certain.

  ‘Tell you what,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘How about you take that helmet off, so I can see for sure who it is?’

  ‘No way. I’d rather you didn’t talk to me than go through that again.’

  She laughed, a silvery trickle of sound that, even through the coms, Lari could hear echoing around the circular room.

  ‘Fair enough. I guess I’ll just have to trust you, then. Are you okay?’

  The question took him by surprise.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit burnt around the face. You managed to shield me from the worst of it, though. Thanks for that.’

  ‘Don’t thank me. I’m the one who got you to take that thing off your head in the first place, remember? So how come you burnt like that? I’ve never seen anyone who couldn’t handle light before. Do you lot live in the dark or something?’

  ‘Not exactly. We can handle light. It’s just certain wavelengths that we can’t…’ Lari trailed off. He could tell he’d lost her.

  ‘Is everyone who lives here the same as you?’

  ‘With the light? Yeah.’

  ‘How do you mob find food and water? How do you get out to do your hunting? Do you go at night, or what?’

  ‘We don’t hunt. We have … uhm … different sources of food and water.’

  ‘You need to stop her asking questions, Larinan.’ His father’s voice, coming through his earpiece, felt like an intruder in his head. ‘Try to get her talking about herself, her life, anything which might be useful. Just be subtle, all right?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘What’s okay?’ The girl looked at him, puzzled.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said “okay”. What’s okay? You talking to me?’

  ‘No. I …’ Lari inwardly cursed his mistake.

  ‘Who were you talking to, then? That bloke who pulled you out?’

  ‘Janil? You saw him?’

  ‘Couldn’t really miss him. All hunched up in that little room you come out of. No getup like yours, though. I got a good long stare at him, actually. Do you look like that, too?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘White. Empty.’

  Empty. It was the strangest way Lari had ever heard himself described.

  ‘I … guess. A bit different, but generally, yeah.’

  ‘Who is he? That bloke.’

  ‘Janil?’

  She nodded.

  ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘Brother.’ The girl said the word slowly, as though tasting it, turning it over in her mouth. ‘What’s that, then?’

  ‘It’s …’

  ‘Choose your words carefully, Larinan. Remember, she has no conception of children, let alone siblings.’

  ’We have the
same father. And mother.’

  ‘I got a father and mother, too. Dariand, he’s my father. He’s a nightwalker. And my mother, Jani, you lot took her off the night I was born, eh?’

  ‘I wasn’t alive then.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I’m younger than you. Probably by about a year.’

  ‘How’d you know that?’

  ‘My …’

  ‘Be careful, for sky’s sake, Larinan. She might not be too happy to find out that your mother was the one who took hers.’

  ‘We’ve got ways of telling. With our tests.’

  Lari couldn’t tell whether she believed him or not.

  ‘So this “brother” of yours, this Janil bloke. He must like you a fair bit, then?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I saw him gettin’ burnt up too trying to pull you outa here. He do that ’cause he’s your brother?’

  ‘No. I mean, yes, I guess. But probably not. Janil’s not like that. Not with me, anyway.’

  There was a momentary silence, until the girl spoke again.

  ‘So what do you wanna know, then?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We had a deal. You take off your helmet, I’ll answer your questions. What do you want to know?’

  ‘I …’

  ‘Larinan, standby …’ His father’s voice suddenly changed. ‘Janil, what in the sky are you … What? No … No, this is completely unacceptable. And you … you have absolutely no authority to … Madam Prelate. I… of course. Hold on, please. Larinan?’

  ‘Give me a second,’ Lari said to the girl before toggling the coms off. ‘What?’

  ‘Hello, Larinan! A different voice answered. ‘Can you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Madam Prelate.’

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you could join us up here in the observation room, Larinan, just as soon as you’ve de-suited. Your brother is opening the airlock now.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Now, Larinan!

  ‘I have to go,’ Lari told Saria, as the inner door slid open behind him.

  ‘How come? You just got here.’

  ‘I know, but something’s come up. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Soon.’ He stepped into the airlock. ‘I promise.’

  She smiled as the inner door closed and he snapped off his helmet while he waited for Janil to let him into the locker room. The outer door slid back, and Janil was waiting, a smug expression on his face.

  ‘You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, copygen.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Emergency meeting.’ Janil immediately began unfastening the clasps on Lari’s suit. ‘Hurry up.’

  ‘What’s the emergency?’

  ‘You’ll find out if you get this suit off.’

  Lari climbed out of the suit and pulled on his normal clothes.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Janil was already halfway up the stairs.

  Lari sensed the tension the moment he stepped into obs. His father stood by the data terminal, his face thunderous. Jenx leaned on the wall by the door, and the Prelate stood before the clearcrete windows, staring into the chamber. The moment Lari entered, she turned to him.

  ‘Larinan, come here. Let me look at you.’

  Silently, he did as she bid. The city leader traced one finger lightly over the welts on his cheeks.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Not really. Not any more.’

  Then she turned to his father.

  ‘This is an absolute disgrace, Doctor Mann. Sending in your son, untrained, unfamiliar with the field protocols set down by a thousand years of experience, allowing him to be placed in such extreme danger—’

  ‘Why don’t we dispense with the righteousness, Madam Prelate. All of us know you couldn’t care less that someone got burned in there. This isn’t about ethics, is it?’

  Lari gasped, hearing his father address the Prelate like that, but the old woman didn’t react as he would have expected. Instead of getting angry, she simply smiled.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor Mann. As ever, you have put things far more succinctly than I could manage.’ She turned to Janil. ‘Janil, you will be in charge of the decommissioning of this project and will liaise with Jenx on the removal of any extraneous factors which may cause the city difficulties.’ She glanced back down through the windows as she said this, into where Saria had settled herself on the padded sleeping mat. ‘Larinan and Dernan Mann, I am happy for the two of you to maintain your positions as DGAP officers, and Doctor Mann, you will remain as head of research, but on this matter you will defer in all things to your elder son. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Perfectly.’ Dernan Mann spat the word.

  ‘Good. I would prefer that this was kept between the five of us in this room. But you should know that I will not hesitate to have you arrested should my instructions not be followed to the letter.’

  She turned to Lari. ‘I am sorry for dragging you into this whole episode, Larinan. Very sorry indeed. And I would consider it a personal favour if you would contact my office in a couple of days, once all this has been satisfactorily wound up, for reallocation.’

  ‘Reallocation?’

  ‘You strike me as a resourceful young fellow and I think I could use someone like you over at the Prelature.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’ll see you in a couple of days, Larinan.’

  Without even a glance at their father, the Prelate swept from the room. Jenx threw a quick smirk back at them and followed her. As soon as she was gone, Dernan Mann turned on Janil.

  ‘Are you happy now? Was that what you hoped to achieve, Janil?’

  ‘I did what I had to do, Father.’

  ‘What you had to do? Don’t make me laugh. You did what you thought would get you into favour with the Prelate.’ Dernan Mann shook his head. ‘You did it because I decided to bring your brother into the program, and you did it despite knowing about the entropy scenario. You … You killed your mother here today, Janil.’

  The smile faded from Janil’s face. For a second he looked as though he was about to reply, but then he launched himself, swinging his fist at Dernan Mann’s head.

  His father ducked, but Janil caught him a glancing blow which made him stagger backwards into the wall, where he slumped to the floor, his head bowed. Janil stood over his father, trembling.

  ‘You’re an arrogant, self-centered shi, Father. Mum and everything she stood for has been dead for a long, long time. The only one who doesn’t seem to realise that is you, Dernan’

  His father’s name rang like a curse.

  For a long moment the tableau held: Dernan Mann slumped, broken, against the wall and his eldest son standing over him, fists clenched.

  Then finally Janil stepped back and spat once at his father’s feet, before marching to the door without so much as a glance in Lari’s direction. There he stopped.

  ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, Doctor, I have work to do. I’ll inform you of my exact timeline for shutdown of the project before the end of the shift. I’ll expect your cooperation.’

  With that, his brother vanished into the laboratory.

  He left as quickly as he’d come and once more she finds herself sitting alone in the glare of her prison, with only the cold, distant buzz of skyfire for company.

  Something is wrong.

  Something is different.

  If she were back home, she’d simply reach down into the Earthmother and seek out the disturbance, the movements and breaks in the flow of earthwarmth.

  Not here, though. All she gets when she reaches here is the cold-heat of skyfire, and she can feel it sucking at her, drawing her life and energy out.

  Saria glances upwards into the glare. She knows they watch her from up there. She knows they’re watching her now.

  Is this a test? she wonders.

  But even as she asks the question, she knows the answer. Something has happened, something bad. It was written in his voice, i
n the way he left the room.

  Despite the merciless light and heat beating down on her, Sana’s skin prickles into gooseflesh and she shivers …

  Through the clearcrete, Port City shimmered in the deepening night. Stars emerged from the indigo haze, com arrays caught the dying rays of sunset, and clearcrete sparkled as the autotint brought it back from full opacity to complete clarity. The still city gleamed in the twilight as two million people went about their fully contained lives, tucked away in their plascrete wombs.

  Dernan Mann stared out the window of his apartment and looked at the view through empty eyes, barely even seeing it.

  All this, all his life, everything – gone. Brought to a crashing halt at the hands of his elder son.

  It could have been so different, Dernan Mann reflected. Janil could have been so different, would have been but for me. And Eyna, of course. If she hadn’t vanished …

  The night after she’d disappeared, when a whole day had passed with no word, no sign of her flyer on the skyeyes, no telemetry, no coms, nothing, he’d sat with the boys at the kitchen table to give them the news.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ Lari had asked.

  He’d looked at them – his two boys, one eleven, the other six, so different from each another but at the same time similar – and hadn’t been able to answer. In the end it was Janil who’d said the words.

  ‘She’s gone, isn’t she?’

  Dernan Mann had nodded.

  ‘When will she come back?’ Larinan’s brow had furrowed.

  ‘She won’t, copygen!’

  ‘Janil!’ It was the first time Dernan had heard Janil call his little brother that. ‘Don’t you ever, ever call your brother that name. Not ever, do you understand?’

  But eleven-year-old Janil hadn’t blinked. ‘Well, that’s what he is. So that’s what I’m going to call him from now on.’

  And Dernan Mann had turned away. He didn’t have the energy to deal with it, not then.

  Janil had stood up. ‘I’m going to find her.’

  Dernan remembered struggling to keep his emotions in check. ‘We can’t find her, son,’ he said gently. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘I know that. But I’m going to find her anyway. One day.’