Bolts of plasma flew over Evie’s head as she ran with Keira to the portal. A sudden groan caused her to look back.
‘Conner!’ she shouted. He lay face down against the floor. Keira ran back to him. Naido turned him over and shook his head.
‘Come on!’ Evie shouted.
‘I won’t leave him!’ Keira said.
Naido said something to her and shot the aliens. He motioned her to move, and she ran with him. Out of breath, she sobbed as they reached Evie.
Naido stepped over to the portal. ‘Wait five seconds, then jump through like this, like you’d dive on to the floor, and prepare to grab a hold. OK?’
Evie nodded, and Naido jumped in.
‘You go next,’ Evie said.
‘No,’ Keira said. ‘You go.’
‘You sure? All right then. Just count to five and jump after me.’
Evie stepped beside the portal and jumped in.
The world changed.
It was dark. She hit her forehead on something hard, but got a hold of a bar in her hands. At that moment she was sucked back; the flipped gravity pulled her. She lost the foothold, and dangled with one arm, about to fall back to the portal.
Naido grabbed her other arm, then she found the foothold again, and pulled herself to a secure point. Looking up, the shaft extended into what seemed like forever, but as Naido had said, there was a little light at the end of the tunnel. The climb, though, seemed almost impossible; below her, the portal waited like an absolute black hole.
‘Where’s Keira?’ Evie asked. ‘She was supposed to come after me. I’ll go see if she’s—’
‘No! If the aliens got her, they’ll get you, too. Now, let’s get out of here.’
A wave of sadness washed over Evie. There was nothing she could do. Those unsuspecting tourists—they had names, Keira and Conner—had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it had cost them everything. She swallowed away the tears and began to climb.
Evie went first and Naido followed. With every step, the distance to the portal below increased, and Evie tried to keep her focus on the wall in front of her to avoid thinking about the possibility of a fall. The thin air smelled of burnt wires, and it was strenuous even to breathe. Below her, Naido was grunting with every step; a hundred grunts to go, she estimated. It wasn’t long until the muscles in her calves and forearms started to burn, the skin on her palms breaking from the ragged edges of the ladder. She stopped and positioned herself close to the wall, so that she required the minimum amount of energy to avoid falling.
‘What’s wrong?’ Naido’s strained voice called.
‘Nothing’s wrong. Just thought you’d need a breather.’
Naido grunted, but said nothing.
‘Wonder why the cyborgs aren’t following us…’
‘I was thinking the same. Perhaps there’s something keeping them on the other side; perhaps it’s not their time to come over just yet.’
Yet was the key word. The portals between Remola and the worlds, and the number of armed aliens ready to go meant only one thing. They would flood through, and the only question was, when?
Evie had never been physically strong, and after the climb so far, her muscles felt weaker than ever, but with her light build there wasn’t too much to lift. She could manage a few dozen steps. Naido was at least three times heavier, and she wondered how he managed, but because he did, he was more than three times stronger.
She took a deep breath and continued upward.
Reaching the top, she pushed on the hatch and crawled through. She rolled on to the floor, panting. Naido dropped beside her, breathing heavily and leaning against his knees.
They found themselves in the Thrulift lobby. Evie had never visited the attraction, but the massive logos were unmistakable. A number of similar tubes stood beside each other, in a wide-open space, and a row of counters were on one side, shops on the other. But the lights were down low, and everything was closed.
‘Where is everybody?’
‘Let’s get out of here.’
Evie stood up, and, together with Naido, began pacing down the stairs towards the exit. The one leading to the shuttle bay was closed, and so was the one leading to the shopping centre in the building beside them. They went under the closure ribbon, and it didn’t take long for them to disappear into the crowd of the mall.
‘So, we are in Spit City,’ Evie said as they walked along. The stress of the recent events took her suddenly, as if someone was grabbing her windpipe. ‘It feels so surreal.’
Naido stopped. ‘I know. My body hasn’t caught up with it yet either. It’s acting and feeling as if it were still underneath the surface of Runcor.’
‘Daler and Shosana are still there.’
‘But there’s no going back, not this way.’
‘What do we do now?’
‘I know some people. Or knew. If they’re still around, they might help us get back.’
‘Get back? To Runcor?’
‘Where else? As you said, we left Daler, Shosana, and Gus to the mercy of Marc Puissance. What was it you got from Gus, by the way?’
With everything going on, Evie had almost forgotten about the object. She pushed her arm into the side pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small grey chip with sharp edges. She held it on her palm. ‘We should find somewhere we can test this.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’m not sure.’ The surface of the chip was even, with no markings. ‘He said it’s the key to protecting the realm, but he never told me how to use it.’
‘Looks like a data chip to me,’ Naido said. ‘I know someone who might help us uncover its secrets. Let’s go and see Fuu.’
Chapter Fourteen
Spit City was just as Henning remembered: a big, dark ball of gunk and spikes. Since the navy took over the police business from FIST, and divested its other assets, Henning had been back many times, but it had always been to the upper levels of the now renovated Pentafol building. He had helped in the transition, and with his large share of stock ownership, had received a massive amount of cash and considerable equity in the firms that continued the businesses FIST used to run.
Now, the lower levels of the small city-covered moon reminded him what the place was all about.
In his new role with the navy, he was like a ghost hunter. His understanding and the ability to use E—or the deep energy, as it was officially called—made him a logical candidate to solve illogical problems. The hypothesis was that deep energy could be causing more disturbances than previously thought.
So far, Henning had found little evidence. The anomalies he had seen so far all had a simple explanation. For example, in Renarin space, someone had dumped an active but faulty pinch engine core, causing random waves to ripple throughout the neighbouring solar systems, and on Mona Tarane, someone had hacked together a number of gravity generators and overpowered them, causing the planet to tilt. Every anomaly seemed to be a result of some idiot playing with things they shouldn’t.
The supposed anomaly was in the twin towers, two almost identical buildings on the opposite sides of the moon, connected by the moon-piercing Thrulift. Henning considered the lift itself a feat of engineering, but something had happened. They said whatever went into the tube vanished, and nobody could figure out why.
A robot-driven shuttle whizzed them between the buildings and the dazzle of the shuttle traffic. The black backdrop of obsidian monoliths was lit up by the lights on the buildings, the glittering sea of vehicles, and the visual noise of advertising.
Sofia stared out of the window, her mouth agape, occasionally gasping in awe as she took in the sights. ‘I had seen videos, but I never thought it would be so immersive, you know?’ she said, wide-eyed. She turned to Henning. ‘You’ve worked in this city. What’s it like to live here?’
‘It depends,’ Henning said, considering his answer. Spit City was dirty, unfair, and dangerous, but to a passing visitor and some folks—he thought of Tredd Bounty—all th
is just added to the charm. ‘If you’re at the bottom, it’s a hell-hole. The higher levels have it all right. Still, it’s no place to raise a family, but then again Dawn Central’s not ideal either…’
‘You’re thinking of Aino.’
‘She’s my number one reason for wanting Avalon back.’
‘I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.’
Henning said nothing. He had intended to come up with some ideas on the trip, but a plan had eluded him. One option was to use the money he had received from the divested businesses of FIST and convince the government that his investment would be for the best of the community. The problem was that the current government of Initia was very rigid in its ways. If they had set their plans, they wouldn’t change them before the next planning cycle. The other option was to somehow have the navy extend their stay—as long as the Dawn Alliance Navy had control, the local government couldn’t do anything—and take over control of the compound. In due time, he could convince the government and the navy to hand it all over to him. That, too, seemed like a distant dream; at the moment it was almost certain that the navy would pass control over to the local politicians. Once the anomaly was sorted, he would take the matter up with Admiral Atamian.
‘Is that it?’ Sofia asked, pointing at a tall building with pulsing red lights.
‘That’s the one.’
The tower stood taller and more colourful than the others around it, and as they entered the hangar, it buzzed with fancy crafts and gleaming lights.
The taxi dropped them at the main entrance, a massive platform hanging from the ledge of the monolith building, decorated with holographic neon lights. Henning let Sofia out and stepped after her into vitamineralised local air as the taxi whizzed away. Together they followed the signs to the main attraction, Thrulift.
‘Have you ever tried it?’ Sofia asked.
‘Tried what?’
‘The Thrulift.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘What’s it like?’
‘Not worth five hundred terabucks. Well, you might do it once to see for yourself. It’s not bad, don’t get me wrong, but it is more of a curiosity than a real mode of transport.’
‘Too bad it’s closed.’
They reached the entry to the Thrulift experience, and Sofia pointed at the purple tape that was blocking the way. The information screens stated that the Thrulift was under maintenance, and that any pre-booked rides could be altered free of charge in Dawn Net, and welcomed visitors to sign up to receive the latest updates.
‘We should call the manager,’ Henning said. ‘Was there a name in the briefing—’
Sofia had already ducked under the tape. ‘Quinn something, come on.’
Henning sighed, lifted the tape and stepped under it. He caught up with Sofia on the wide stairs that led towards the entrance.
At the top, a fussy-looking businessman approached them. He had a suit that appeared expensive, but he wore it loosely. His hair was messy, as was the stubble on his chin. ‘You must be from the navy,’ he said, extending his hand.
Henning glanced at Sofia—they both wore navy uniforms—and took the man’s hand. ‘Henning Dal. You must be Quinn Delabre.’
He smiled widely. ‘That’s me. I’m the managing director of Thrulift.’ He let go of Henning’s hand and proceeded to greet Sofia. ‘We’re losing money every minute. A new pod’s ready to be deployed as soon as your people confirm we can continue the operation.’ His demanding eyes darted between Henning and Sofia.
‘I’ve no intention to delay,’ Henning said, and he meant it: once this was done, he would pitch his plan to Admiral Atamian, and there wasn’t a moment to waste. ‘I’ve read the briefing—you lost the pod, with passengers?’
Quinn nodded. ‘It just disappeared.’
‘And something seems to be eating anything that goes into the tunnel?’
He nodded. ‘Have you seen anything like it before?’
‘Perhaps,’ Henning said. ‘Ms Kvantström will take a few measurements. Could you show us the tunnel?’
‘Yes, of course. Follow me.’ Together, they walked to the departures lounge.
Henning remembered the place bustling with people, long queues, full cafes, and tourists trying to find their way. Now there was nobody besides them, and an eerie atmosphere in the busy city.
Quinn led them over to one of the eight vertical pipes, number four, that took the small people-carrying pods down and through the moon. Some of the tubes had a pod ready to go, but this one was empty. He pushed a few buttons and the transparent door on the side of the tube opened.
‘Tube number four is where the accident happened.’
‘Accident?’ Sofia asked, rummaging in her bag for the equipment she had brought.
‘The thing where the whole pod full of passengers disappeared.’
‘You’re sure it’s disappeared, not stuck somewhere or destroyed?’
‘There’s no sign of it,’ Quinn said. ‘They threw a wrench into the tube, and we saw it disappear part way down.’
Henning’s first thought was that someone had placed an elaborate contained pinch, similar to the one he’d had to connect between Aalto’s hideout on Laine with the FIST headquarters, but the engineering team had found nothing to indicate that.
‘Let me take a read,’ Sofia said, and pushed the measuring instrument—a short wand with a handle and a screen at one end and an array of input devices at the other—through the door, and held it over the shaft, while pushing buttons on the screen. The instrument emitted a high-pitched sound as she kept it steady over the hole that would reach the other side of the moon.
Quinn glanced at Henning, his face a question.
‘OK, let me see.’ She pulled the device out and peered into its small screen. ‘Oh, my! This ain’t your everyday glitch… Look at this.’
Henning read the screen, which showed a number of different readings from the basic manacar-number to the array of Richelieu’s mass indicator. The interpretation: inside the tube was a massive amount of E, keeping in place whatever it was that had eaten the pod.
‘What is it?’
Henning couldn’t talk to Quinn about E, so he just said, ‘It’s much more complicated than I thought.’
He had told the truth: the readings made things more confusing than he had expected. The readings matched the data they had collected from the holes through which the Remola had come. The only difference was that this was on a smaller scale—and inside a planet.
‘A word?’ She motioned Henning to the side. ‘If you’ll excuse us.’
‘What’s going on?’ Quinn asked.
‘Just a moment,’ Henning dismissed the businessman and took Sofia away to behind the ticket booth, just far enough for them to talk privately.
Sofia leaned towards him and showed the numbers from the device again. She whispered, ‘It’s the same as Remola.’
‘I know,’ he whispered back, and glanced at Quinn, who was pacing around the entry to the pod.
‘Are they coming back?’
‘They could be, but we don’t know for certain it’s Remola.’
‘What else could it be?’ She stared at him wide-eyed.
‘It could be the Shades, or someone else who wields E, but still, you’re probably right.’
‘What are we going to do?’ she whispered.
Henning smiled, and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘What we always do: investigate, and fix it.’
‘But how?’
‘That’s why we investigate first.’
She grinned, and pulled away, fiddling with the device in her hands. ‘I should send the data to the Central.’
‘Don’t just yet. If we tell everyone now, they’ll send the troops.’
‘OK,’ she said, with a face he couldn’t decipher. Her cheeks had a slight blush and her pupils were somewhat dilated. She probably understood; if the navy command and Belinda Killock heard about the possibility there was a Remolan entry, they’d be stuck here. The
n again, Henning had little idea about how to fix it.
‘Let’s go see it again,’ Henning said. ‘You wouldn’t have any trash to put into the bin?’
‘Why?’
‘I want to try something,’
She sifted through her bag and pulled out a small tube. ‘This lipstick’s almost gone.’
‘It’s perfect.’ Henning grabbed it from her.
‘What are you planning to do with it?’
‘Come and see.’ He started back towards Quinn and the entry to the tube.
‘So,’ Quinn said, ‘do you know what it is, and can you fix it?’
Henning ignored him, opening the door to the tube. He beckoned to Sofia. ‘Take the readings out of this.’
Sofia stepped up to the door. ‘It’s tight for two people at a time.’
‘Just hold it there like you did the last time.’ Henning crouched so that Sofia was above him.
‘What’s going on?’ Quinn asked.
Henning dropped the lipstick into the tube and followed its fall. At just a dozen metres or so, it vanished. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Yes, let me see the readings,’ Sofia said, pulling back from the doorway.
Henning peered down. While the tube was dark, the sudden blackness was striking. This was no pinch. But if it was a portal to Remola, who had set it up, and why here?
Sofia said, ‘The lipstick disappeared completely, and the readings match.’
Henning stared, almost as if he could see through to Remola. This was a real anomaly.
A sudden flash of purple light from the blackness blinded him, and before he could do anything, something struck his shoulder.
Sofia screamed.
His shoulder flared up with a piercing pain. Someone grabbed him and pulled him back.
A burst of three more flashes of lightning shot from the tube, barely missing his face. They struck the glass above, breaking it, and sending shards falling down.
He swiped his hair back with his right hand, his forehead sweaty. His left hand was useless and trying to move it would just add to the pain.
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