Skyfall

by Anthony Eaton

  Her eyes snapped open, staring straight into his, and for a moment Lari almost felt vertigo at the sensation.

  ‘It’s all dead,’ she said.

  ‘Who is?’

  But Saria just shook her head and let them pull her back to her feet.

  ‘We’ve gotta go. Now.’ Jem was hopping from foot to foot with impatience, her eyes darting this way and that, staring into the darkness of the skycity. ‘Can you move, Saria?’

  The Darklands girl nodded.

  ‘This way, then.’

  Jem set a fast pace, leading them through a maze of enormous, shattered blocks. This section of the old city seemed to be deserted.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To find my father.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘He’ll tell us.’

  Silently, the four picked single-file through the crumbling city. At one point Lari thought he heard voices shouting in the distance, but when he listened hard the only sound was the howl of the wind through the distant skydomes.

  They’d walked for perhaps an hour when an eerie humming added itself to the constant groan of the wind.

  ‘Nightpeople.’ Saria stiffened. It was the first word she’d spoken since back at the lift base.

  ‘What?’ Kes and Jem both looked puzzled, but Lari understood immediately.

  ‘It’s a flyer. They’re searching for us.’

  ‘So?’ Jem snorted derisively. ‘It’s so dark down here they won’t spot us in a million years.’

  ‘They don’t need light.’ Lari remembered the solitary figure of the man out in the Darklands caught on the tiny display in the flyer. All they need is body heat.’

  The hum was louder now, bouncing off the ancient towers and echoing so that it was impossible to know whether the flyer was coming towards them or not. Desperately, Lari stared into the hazy night, but not even a flicker of light betrayed the humming craft.

  ‘Down here.’ Jem dropped to her hands and knees and squirmed under a large slab of concrete which lay at a slight angle to the ground. It took only seconds for the rest of them to decide to follow, first Saria, then Kes, then finally Lari.

  Moments after Lari had levered himself into the tiny, damp space, the air outside seemed to thrum with energy as the flyer passed overhead, still masked by smog.

  ‘Do you think they know we’re here?’ Kes asked.

  ‘No idea. They might have traced the maglift already.’

  ‘It’s gone. Come on.’ Jem was scrambling out before the flyer’s sound had even begun to fade.

  Suddenly, Saria spoke. ‘I can feel her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can feel her! Can’t you feel her?’

  ‘Feel who?’ Kes, who was closest to Saria, reached across and tried to help the girl out of the tiny hollow, but Saria pushed her hand aside and stared up at Jem, who was now standing at the entrance to the shelter.

  ‘My mother. Our mother. I can feel Jani. Don’t tell me you can’t feel her too, eh? She’s calling. You and me, both of us.’

  Jem shook her head. ‘I can’t feel anything.’

  ‘You gotta reach out. Go slow into the Earthmother. She’s pretty far down, because it’s all dead country here, but she’s down there all right.’

  ‘What’s she talking about?’ Jem looked at Lari.

  ‘No idea. She never talked like this in the chamber.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway. Let’s get moving before that flyer comes back.’

  They walked with the only sound the crunch of their feet across the ancient gravel. Lari was concerned about Saria’s feet. She didn’t have any shoes and Lari thought her bare feet would be torn to shreds on the rough ground, but the girl didn’t seem to notice any discomfort, or if she did she didn’t complain about it.

  As they walked, they heard flyers again, more and more of them, it seemed, but all a long way off. Time seemed to slip away, until Jem stopped again and pulled her mask on.

  ‘We’re nearly there.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘At the shelter. Listen, anyone might be in there. It’s all gone to shi up top, as far as I can tell, and we’ve got no way of knowing if people are friends or enemies, at least until we talk to my dad. Whatever happens in there, you lot let me do all the talking. Okay?’

  ‘Fine.’ Lari and Kes spoke at the same time.

  Saria was staring into the sky. ‘No vaultlights here.’

  ‘What?’

  She pointed up. ‘No vaultlights. The sky’s as dead as the land.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever.’ Jem put an arm around the other girl’s shoulders and whispered in her ear. ‘Listen, sister. You gotta be real quiet in here, right? Not say a word.’

  Saria just smiled.

  ‘I guess that’s a “yes”. Okay, this way.’

  At the base of one of the more intact buildings, a set of stairs led down into the ground.

  ‘Hey!’ Jem called into the darkness. ‘It’s Jem. I’m coming in and I’m bringing three friends.’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ a woman shouted back up. ‘You won’t be welcome, none of you.’

  ‘Is that you, Samny?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What’s this shi about, then?’

  For a moment no reply came from the hole, but then footsteps crunched towards them and a shiftie woman appeared from the darkness. Like Jem, she had the mark of the Underground tattooed into the leathery skin on the side of her neck. She blinked when she saw the other three standing there, and her eyes lingered a few moments on Saria, but before she could say anything Jem grabbed her arm and shook it hard.

  ‘Don’t take it out on me, girl. It’s not my decision.’

  ‘Whose then?’

  ‘Everyone’s. We’re safer without you lot around.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Those flyers. Those security blokes. It’s you they’re looking for. You and her.’ She nodded at Saria.

  ‘They’ve been here already?’

  ‘Ha!’ the woman snorted. ‘You reckon they’d have left us here? No. But they’ve cleaned out three other shelters so far and they’re rounding up the clans and anyone else they find. You’re poison, girl, you and your friends, and you won’t find anyone here stupid enough to take that on themselves.’

  ‘Have you seen my father?’

  ‘Ratz? Last I heard he was off in the Land of the Dead. That was a while ago, though, so he could be anywhere by now.’

  ‘Listen, it’s almost morning …’

  The woman’s expression was unsympathetic. ‘Then you lot had better move on and find somewhere to hide out for the day.’

  ‘Just let us in, Samny.’ Jem’s hand slipped slowly into a pocket.

  ‘Nope. An’ don’t you even think about slapping me with that pacifier of yours, child. We heard what you did to them blokes at the other refuge. You try that here and we’ll hand you to security ourselves. Now get.’

  ‘Wait until my father hears …’ Jem started, but a figure stepped out from behind some rubble a few metres away.

  ‘No need to wait, Jem. I heard all of it.’

  At the sound of his voice, the shiftie woman froze, then she turned slowly. ‘Ratz! I … that’s to say, we …’

  But the Underground leader held a finger to his lips, gesturing the woman to be quiet.

  ‘We’ll talk later, Samny. In the meantime, let’s see what my daughter’s brought us …’

  Gregor walked towards them, his eyes passing straight over Lari and Kes, until they fell on Saria. There they stopped.

  ‘Incredible.’ He shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  ‘It’s almost dawn …’ Jem started, but he cut her off.

  ‘I know. We’ll shelter here for the day, then get moving at first darkness.’

  ‘Listen, Ratz,’ Samny began, but Gregor turned his steady gaze on the scarred woman.

  ‘You really don’t have a problem with this, do you, Samny?’

  Th
e shiftie dropped her gaze. ‘Nah.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’ Gregor smiled, his usual flinty smile. ‘Then let’s go inside. I’ve got some instructions for you lot, anyway. We’re in for a busy night.’

  ‘How come?’ Samny asked.

  ‘Things are about to accelerate and the units are going to work on their own initiative for a couple of days.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Samny. You know the rule …’

  ‘Don’t ask questions.’ The woman looked chastened.

  ‘Good. In any case, we’ll be gone as soon as we can. We’ll have a lot of walking to do tonight.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jem.

  Gregor Kravanratz smiled at his daughter and Saria.

  ‘There’s somebody I want the two of you to meet.’

  Dead earth.

  Just like around the shifting tower Dead earth below her feet. Cold. Hard.

  There’s life down there, all right. There’s the Earthmother, but she’s deep. Deeper than Saria can reach right now.

  It’s no wonder the other one can’t feel it, either.

  Saria!

  The call shudders into her. It’s somewhere here. Somewhere in all this dead earth.

  But it’s impossible to tell where, through all the cold. It might be just a little away, past the next block of deadness, or it might be as far off as the sunrise. She feels it, though, and knows she has to go to it.

  This one who’s looking at her, this burnt man, he’s different, somehow. Not quite like all the others.

  Not a Nightperson, but not a Darklander, either.

  There’s something about him that doesn’t feel right. Like he’s trapped between the two worlds, belonging in neither.

  Slowly, carefully, Saria calls up every last dreg of earthwarmth she can drag from the dead ground, pulling it into her, greedily, and reaches for him.

  It’s like he’s waiting for her, warm, bright, his mind almost as welcoming as Dreamer Gaardi’s.

  He’s smiling.

  He’s speaking.

  ‘There’s somebody I want the two of you to meet…’

  The dim, filtered light spilling into obs through the mirrored clearcrete windows threw a strange, silvery glow across everything. Dernan Mann stood at the terminal, his fingers in constant motion as they pulled up file after file from the project archives. Most he simply deleted out of hand, being careful to erase everything, every trace of both the folder and its contents, from the registry. Every piece of data, every finding, every speculation. A thousand years of accumulated scientific analysis of the Darklands and its citizens vanished, one tetrabyte at a time, into the ether.

  Occasionally, his eyes would pick out something – some detail in the stream of information as it rolled past – and he’d stop, upload the file to a hidden subroutine he’d created in the skyeye transfer files, and then continue deleting.

  He’d been working for about an hour when the com chimed. He sighed. He knew this had to happen eventually, but still, so quickly …

  Dernan Mann flicked the ‘respond’ icon.

  ‘Mann.’

  ‘Doctor Mann.’

  If Jenx was surprised to find himself talking to the head of research rather than his elder son, he didn’t let it show.

  ‘What do you want, Jenx?’

  ‘Where is Janil?’

  ‘Indisposed. Can I help you?’

  On the display, Jenx hesitated.

  ‘What are you doing there? I thought you’d been removed from the project.’

  Dernan Mann smiled. ‘I’m just helping Janil tie up a few loose ends.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t understand.’

  There was a pause while the two men measured each other up. Both knew there was a game being played here, a deadly one. Jenx made the next move.

  ‘Security has detected some … odd data movements coming from DGAP. Do you know anything about that?’

  ‘No. You’d have to ask Janil.’

  ‘Right. Janil. You’d have no objections if I came across to speak to him personally?’

  ‘Jenx, you’re the head of citywide security. Who am I to object?’

  ‘Good, then. I’ll see you shortly.’

  The line went dead.

  Dernan Mann sighed again, shut down the file he’d been working on, and then opened a new program. The computer responded instantly:

  DGAP System Overwrite Protocol.

  UNUSED DATA PURGE.

  ** CAUTION**

  All critical data MUST be taken offline and given redundancy before engaging this protocol.

  Enter user authorisation > :

  Dernan Mann hesitated. He’d hoped to be able to load more of the critical systems files up to the skyeye, just in case Lari ever managed to …

  He shook his head. Jenx would be on his way, probably with an armed division. There was no point wasting any further time.

  Mann, D. 90098DGD57544

  Immediately a new icon flashed red in the centre of the interface.

  Execute?

  Smiling at the irony, Dernan Mann tapped the icon just once. Less than a second later, the terminal went blank as the DGAP data processors purged themselves of everything.

  Then, picking up a headset from beside the terminal, he slipped it on and crossed back to the windows. Janil was lying on the podium again. He looked asleep, but it was hard to be certain. Dernan Mann studied his eldest son.

  It could have been so different, he thought, as he activated the com.

  ‘Janil?’

  ‘What?’

  Through the pickup, his son’s voice sounded tinny and distant.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Jenx just called. He wasn’t too happy when I answered his com. He’s on his way across.’

  Below, Janil hauled himself awkwardly upright. He was favouring his left hand and keeping his right clutched across his chest.

  ‘Are you going to let me out, then?’

  ‘No. He can do that when he gets here.’

  ‘So you’re just going to let me stay down here?’

  ‘I have to go now, Janil.’

  ‘Where?’

  Dernan Mann took one last look at his son. Even as Janil struggled to keep himself looking angry, Dernan Mann could see fear in the way he sat, in the way he hunched his shoulders. He looked so tiny down there. Fragile. Almost like the girl. Almost like Eyna.

  ‘I’m going to see your mother. Goodbye, son.’

  Then he toggled the com off, placed the headset beside his terminal, pulled up the command menu that operated the airlock to the chamber, and left it there for Jenx to find when he arrived.

  The lift took only a couple of moments to reach the hangar deck, and Dernan Mann stepped into that vast, cavernous space. His footsteps rang off the hard plascrete floor and he stared away into the gloom, where the bug-like flyers crouched, still and silent now, most never to be flown again.

  It wasn’t too late for him to take one, he thought. He’d never been as good a pilot as Janil or Eyna, but he could probably still fly. He could take one and go … where? The Darklands?

  No. There was no point.

  And besides, he wasn’t a Darklander. He belonged to Port City. He was a Nightperson.

  Across from the lifts, set high into the wall beside the locker room, was the hangar control centre, a carry-over from the days when Port North created enough airtraffic to justify having a central control. It took a couple of minutes to climb the steep staircase. From up here, two large clearcrete windows looked across the entire hangar, taking in the outer doors and the whole flightline. The buglike DGAP flyers, still used occasionally, were at the end closest to him. Up at the far end were the old intra-planetary flyers, larger and more boxy than their sleek little counterparts. They were a hangover from the days when there was still regular travel between earth’s sky cities.

  The hangar controls were old, second- or third-ge
neration skycity technology, a row of switches rather than a digital program on the interface. He found the controls he needed, and then it was a relatively simple matter to disengage the locks, flick a switch, and watch as the nearest of the enormous hangar doors slowly wound open on the far side of the hangar.

  As he climbed back down, a slight wind was blowing in through the open door, bringing with it the dusty taste of outside.

  Eyna would have loved this, he thought.

  Through the opening, Port City was alive, bright under the moonlight, sparkling below the stars. His city.

  His doomed city.

  The lowest point of the door curved past about a metre higher than the deck, at a slight outwards angle to the floor. His hips against the plascrete lip, he leaned out a little way and looked down into the dark tangle of the underworld.

  ‘I hope you’re there somewhere, son.’

  Then, lifting his eyes slowly, he took it all in: the enormous stacks of domes, the thousands of raised stalks, the curving clearcrete and the masted arrays, filling the sky, keeping humanity aloft. The wind whistled through the opening and he felt it on the bare skin of his face and arms. It was cold, dry, real. He breathed it in.

  ‘It’s beautiful!’

  Then Dernan Mann closed his eyes, let go of the rim and leaned forward again, just a little further …

  As soon as night fell, the flyers were out again, criss-crossing the sky like a swarm of predatory insects. Searchlights probed the deep fissures and caverns of the underworld, bathing the decaying concrete in more light than it had seen in centuries.

  Huddled in an empty alcove between two buildings, Lari could feel Saria’s bare arm pressed against his as the five of them – Gregor, Jem, Saria, Kes and himself – waited for yet another flyer to pass overhead.

  ‘They’re certainly keen to find you lot,’ Gregor shouted over the clamour. ‘Not gonna happen, though. Not now.’

  ‘You sound confident,’ Kes shouted back.

  ‘With good cause.’

  The noise grew too loud for further discussion and they simply stood there, feeling the old concrete tremble around them as it was buffeted by the sound.

  Apart from Gregor, the only one who didn’t seem scared was Saria. When a burst of reflected light briefly illuminated the inside of their hiding place, Lari was amazed to see that she was smiling.