by Neal Asher
Thorn nodded, then yelled out in agony. He watched in morbid horror the splintered bone drawn back into his flesh as Gant pulled the leg straight. When the limb seemed about the correct length, Gant gave the order and Thorn began to spray. He yelled again as the reacting epoxies burned the open wound. As soon as his lower leg was encased in its makeshift cast, Gant hauled him to his feet.
‘At least you can walk a little now,’ said Gant.
‘I’ll not be winning any races,’ growled Thorn.
Gant turned to look towards the entrance. ‘You know, if that pulse-gun stops again, that door won’t hold them out much longer,’ he said.
Thorn shrugged. ‘Do we need longer to formulate an escape plan?’ he asked.
‘You know, you get even more sarcastic as you get older,’ said Gant.
‘At least I have that option,’ said Thorn. Then noticing Gant’s odd glance, he added, ‘To get older, I mean.’
Gant stared at him. ‘It bothers you that much, about me?’ he asked.
‘I grieved for your death, and now I feel cheated,’ said Thorn.
‘You may not have been cheated, as whether or not I am really Gant is a moot point. I never intended for you not to know, but I had the memplant put in thirty years before I even met you – when I was a kid back on Earth. It just never seemed important enough to mention.’
‘That you were immortal?’ asked Thorn.
‘Is it immortality? I don’t know. I do know that many other Sparkind have memplants, so why don’t you?’
Thorn shrugged. ‘Just never got round to it.’
The firing of the pulse-cannon ceased again, followed by the roar of calloraptors storming up the tunnel outside.
Gant headed towards the door. ‘Do me a favour,’ he said. ‘If we ever get out of this, get yourself mem-planted, will you?’
‘Can you still get drunk?’ Thorn asked as Gant stepped over to the door, and braced himself against the grinding machine.
‘I have that option,’ Gant replied, his expression puzzled.
‘Then I will get it done, and we’ll celebrate in Elysium.’
Gant did not get much chance to reply to that as the first calloraptor hit the door and managed to wriggle its head around the warped metal.
Eldene woke with a start. She had fallen asleep despite the cold, her back propped against the rail and her head resting on the Outlinker’s shoulder. He seemed to put out plenty of warmth, though, and when she realized he had his arm around her she felt a surge of some feeling she did not really want to identify. She realized that Stanton – a bulky silhouette against the stars and one tumbling moon of the predawn sky – must have spoken and that was what had woken her.
‘About ten minutes,’ Stanton continued, and from that Eldene surmised they would arrive on solid ground soon. Apis did not remove his protective arm from her. Glancing at him in the half-light, she saw no sign of embarrassment at such new-found intimacy.
‘Ten minutes until we land?’ Unsteadily she stood, the rail seat flipping back up behind her, and looked out over the lightening mountains. Behind them, Calypse was a brown dome blistering up from the horizon, which was barely distinct from the sky above it. Below was a river valley, deep in shadow, but she could still distinguish the mercurial glitter of water.
‘Yeah, ten minutes,’ Stanton confirmed. ‘Do either of you know how to fly one of these things?’ He tapped a hand against the steering column.
Standing up also, Apis said, ‘The controls seem simple enough. I don’t see any difficulty.’
Stanton said, ‘Well, if, as you said, you brought in a lander without ion engines, I should think you able enough.’
‘Why do you ask?’ Eldene inquired.
‘Because, when I head for my ship, you can take this aerofan to the nearest Underworld entrance.’ He looked at Eldene. ‘You remember where it is?’
Eldene nodded, feeling an immediate sinking sensation. With one incident so rapidly following another, she’d had no time for thoughts of the future. It had often in fact seemed laughable that she might even have a future. Now she just didn’t know . . . she just didn’t know.
Ahead, a wide lake caught between sheer rock faces became visible, but from this angle it took Eldene a moment to recognize it as the one they called the Cistern – the landing spot of Lyric II. The ship, of course, was invisible somewhere on the further shore. In a moment Stanton brought the aerofan down low, its down-blast disturbing insectile shapes from their roosts on half-submerged rocks in the lake, and causing the flute grasses behind the shore to roll like sea waves. Stanton eventually landed them on a narrow beach Eldene recognized. As the fan motors wound down, Stanton opened the rail gate and stepped down onto sand and shells. Eldene noticed the insect things crawling back up onto their rocky perches.
‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ he said, ‘then you can head off.’ He turned away and started walking up the beach.
‘As he walks towards it, he’ll disappear,’ she informed Apis.
‘Yes, chameleonware, I know about that,’ the Out-linker replied.
Eldene felt a flash of anger at his conceit, but still she was glad to be with him. ‘They used it on Miranda then, did they?’ she asked.
‘No, no, they didn’t,’ Apis replied.
‘How do you know about it then?’
‘I was taught . . . educated . . .’
‘Gosh, you are so clever,’ said Eldene, and had the satisfaction of seeing him flush with embarrassment.
Something was wrong. As Stanton kept on walking, he remained perfectly visible in the breaking dawn. By now he should have disappeared into the magical field projected from the ship. There was a clattering of falling stone, and Stanton turned to a rockfall on his left, his heavy pulse-gun drawn and aimed in one smooth motion. In a motion that was even smoother, a figure rose from behind a nearby boulder, took a few fast and silent steps, and pressed the snout of a smaller gun into the back of Stanton’s head. Eldene had no time to yell a warning, but now grabbed up the rail-gun abandoned on the floor of the aerofan, and stepped out with it aimed at the newcomer.
‘Girl, you better put that down before you hurt someone,’ said a voice behind her.
Eldene swung round to see Fethan, and felt a surge of joy – then dismay when she saw what had happened to him. Confused, she lowered the weapon and looked back at the drama ahead. It was the agent, Ian Cormac, who had captured their rescuer, and now Eldene was not sure where her loyalties lay. She watched silently as Stanton was disarmed and herded back towards the aerofan. Standing beside her, Apis gently took the rail-gun from her.
‘Well, John, seems we’ve been here before,’ said Cormac. He glanced to Fethan. ‘I wondered who that was creeping through the grasses.’
‘Lellan sent me after you,’ Fethan replied. ‘She thought you might need some help.’
‘What I need is a ship,’ said Cormac, returning his attention to Stanton. ‘I can see where it landed but, ’ware shields or not, it certainly isn’t there now.’
Stanton, with his hands clasped on top of his head, remained stubbornly silent. Eldene noted the complete lack of warmth in Cormac’s expression, and feared he was about to pull the trigger. Then abruptly the agent stepped back, holstering his own weapon, then moved around Stanton to face him. Weighing the prisoner’s heavy gun in his hand for a moment, he abruptly tossed it to him. Stanton’s hand snapped down, caught it and aimed it in one movement. Now Eldene thought it was Cormac’s turn to die.
‘It’s like this, John. You shoot me and everyone dies. If I get up there in a ship, meaning your ship, everyone still has a chance to live. Of course, you can get to that ship yourself, and escape, but I don’t think you’ll do that.’
Stanton abruptly concealed the gun. ‘Jarv will have taken it to a prearranged spot. We can be there in an hour or so.’
Cormac gestured towards the menacing shape of the Occam Razor poised in the morning sky like a diseased eye. ‘Well, let’s go before we get s
een. Now is not the time for that to happen.’ He turned to Fethan. ‘Get these two down into the caverns. Calloraptors or not, that’ll still be the safest place for a while.’ He reached out and squeezed Apis’s shoulder. ‘Mika will probably find you, and I think she’s going to be pleased about that – we all thought you and Eldene had died.’
Eldene wondered if that was the most human emotion the man could ever show. She herself was glad of Fethan’s arm across her shoulders, and Apis close at her side, as they watched Cormac and Stanton take the aerofan up into the air, then back along the course of the river. She shivered. It was cold, very cold that morning.
The workshop door was no longer recognizable as such, and Gant threw the grinding machine into the mass of calloraptors that were jammed together in their eagerness to get through. Using their APWs at the lowest setting, Gant and Thorn fired into the winged mass until the creatures did break through, then strategically brought down the ones that would impede the rest. But they still had to keep moving back, and in the little workshop there wasn’t room to retreat.
‘I’m not dying here in a fucking cupboard!’ Thorn yelled.
‘Can you make it to the main cavern door up there?’ Gant slammed a raptor to the ground with the butt of his weapon, then burnt its head off when it began to rise again.
‘I can make it – so long as that pulse-cannon doesn’t start up again!’
‘Now then!’
Both of them upped the setting on their APWs, and the air thumped with the detonations. Violet fire tore through a wall of alien bodies, and black smoke exploded in every direction. Firing repeatedly they advanced, breaking into the main tunnel, swarming with the calloraptors. Thorn now realized that the pulse-cannon would not start up again, because the creatures had somehow torn it from the wall and smashed it. Firing into the cavern to try and clear a path, Thorn began his painful advance, Gant staying right beside him. They made twenty paces.
‘Oh fuck,’ Thorn managed as his weapon died on him and its displays went out. Still heaving himself along, he jammed the weapon’s barrel into the mouth of his nearest attacker, then drove his fist into the throat of another as it dropped towards him. It felt like thumping a tree.
‘Here!’
Gant threw his own APW across to Thorn, and unshouldered his pulse-rifle. Thorn caught it and fired upwards, clearing the air above them. They now moved back-to-back, only Thorn’s shooting being really effective. Gant emptied his rifle and had to resort to his Golem strength – tearing the assailants apart as they came in. Soon they ended up with their backs to the wall.
‘Double fuck,’ muttered Thorn, as the second APW also spat its last and faded out.
Then they heard something like an inhalation, as the calloraptors drew back from them and ceased their onslaught.
‘You do know that fucker Skellor is watching us through them,’ said Gant.
After the chaos that had preceded, the sudden silence almost made Thorn’s ears ring. Then he noticed a strange whuckering sound as of an imbalanced aerofan. As the calloraptors suddenly stormed forwards as one, Thorn knew he was about to die. But something flashed across in front, and with a triple thud and sprays of pink liquid, the three leading calloraptors fell out of the air in pieces. Further flashes were followed by more creatures disintegrating. Their attack stuttered to a halt and they drew back. Shuriken dropped into view in front of Gant and Thorn, flexing its chainglass blades to slice away pieces of raptor flesh.
The two of them just stared at each other, then along the tunnel to where the raptors had now broken into the main cavern. That was why they were no longer under direct attack, but these few seconds Shuriken had given them might prove the difference between life and death. They watched in silence as the creatures just flew on past them now, simply ignoring them. They watched as partially burnt raptors approached from further back in the tunnel, following their flying brethren – the whole crowd cramming towards the chaos of gunfire by the cavern door. Still without saying anything, they simultaneously moved over to crouch behind the wrecked aerofan lying nearby, though the creatures continued to ignore them. Shuriken hovered over them for a second or two longer, until Thorn held out his hand. The killing device hesitated for a moment, flexing its blades in and out in agitation, then abruptly closed them up and dropped into his palm.
‘I’ll return it to Cormac when I see him next,’ he explained.
‘Yeah, you do that,’ muttered Gant.
Jarvellis felt a sudden surge of gladness immediately tempered by fear when she saw who accompanied John Stanton on the aerofan. She watched carefully as the machine came in to land on the patch of wilted rhubarbs beside the river. As the two stepped out from it, neither had their weapons drawn, but that meant little since perhaps John was wearing an explosive collar and the agent’s finger was on some remote trigger. No matter how much John had come to terms with the Polity, after the previous crimes he had committed, it would never accept him.
‘Lyric, use the laser to target that man with John,’ she instructed.
On one of the subscreens she watched as a close-up picture of Cormac was overlaid by a grid; the square covering the man’s head blanked out as the picture froze for a moment, then the picture started to shift again, as the grid faded to leave a single targeting frame centred on the agent’s forehead. Of course, if John was wearing an explosive collar, it was likely Cormac carried a dead man’s switch for it, so Jarvellis restrained herself from killing the agent right then. Also John was unlikely to have led his captor here . . . Dammit! Jarvellis thumbed the control for the external speakers.
‘John . . . is everything all right?’ she asked.
The two men paused. John seemed to gaze straight at her, though there was no way he could yet see Lyric II. He grinned and reached up to pull down the uniform shirt collar he wore, to expose his neck. Sometimes she just hated the way he seemed to get inside her head.
‘What’s happened, John? Why is he here?’
Moving again, Stanton replied, ‘He wants to save the world, and to do that he needs our ship.’
As the two of them entered the ’ware field Jarvellis hesitated to operate the airlock control. What the hell could this ship achieve against a Polity dreadnought, and was she really prepared to risk so much?
‘Jarv, the door,’ said Stanton.
Swearing again, she thumbed the control, then stood up and headed back into the cargo area. Clumping aboard, the two men seemed to fill the small space.
Jarvellis glanced down. ‘Careful!’
Cormac lifted his foot off the interactive storybook he had just stepped on. He stared at it in some puzzlement, then at the other toys scattered across the floor. A small blond-haired boy charged out from wherever he had been playing, a toy dark-otter clutched in one hand. He hesitated for a moment, then with a delighted yell rushed over to Stanton, who picked him up.
‘Ian Cormac, meet Cormac Stanton,’ said John Stanton, trying to hide his embarrassment. Jarvellis noted this, just as she noted the agent’s expression turn from something cold and hard to something merely tired. She guessed that was to do with the ship, and what he wanted of it, and there being an innocent child aboard.
In Thorn’s estimation a couple of thousand of the creatures had now swarmed into the main cavern. Judging by the receding roar of gunfire, the rebel fighters were being driven back. Beside him Gant stood up and offered him a hand, and Thorn rose up onto one foot, supporting himself against the Golem’s unyielding strength.
‘Well, frankly, I’m surprised to be alive,’ he said. ‘I gather, from something Cormac said earlier, that you’ve met these bastards before.’
Gant shrugged. ‘A couple of kinds, yes. The normal predators on Callorum weren’t too much of a problem, but then there was something Skellor created – and neither type had wings.’
They moved out from behind the aerofan, Thorn glancing at what remained of the soldier Carl before he turned his attention to the other debris on the tunnel floor
. Those creatures, it appeared, had to be scorched almost down to the bone, or completely blown into pieces, before they would actually die. The remains of such carnage lay everywhere in drifts upon the stone. Underfoot something white and glassy crunched and fragmented. He noticed one creature burnt down to bone yet still moving, some pinkish substance oozing out between its bones. It fixed him with gleaming dots of eyes set deep in dark pits, and even tried to open its mouth to hiss. This small action used up the last of its strength for then it shuddered, and the pinkish substance began turning the same white as the frangible layer on the floor.
‘What the hell?’ muttered Thorn.
‘Jain tech,’ explained Gant.
‘Nasty,’ said Thorn. ‘Now what do we do?’
Gant studied him. ‘How much oxygen do you have left?’
Thorn glanced at his bottle’s readout. ‘About two hours – so there’s only one direction for me to go.’ He pointed towards where the calloraptors had gone.
Gant abruptly turned and headed back to the aerofan, stooping over the body of Carl. First discarding a pulse-rifle which was bent and broken, he next came up with the man’s breather pack and removed its oxygen bottle from the blood-soaked bag. Returning with this item he said, ‘Another hour from this, though not enough to get you anywhere far. But I don’t think that matters now.’ He looked back the way they had originally come in.
‘More of them?’ Thorn was looking around for something to use as a weapon.
‘No, dracomen,’ said Gant.
‘How can they be here?’ Thorn asked, puzzled.
‘Oh, they can. I worked with Scar for quite some time, and he can run faster than the top speed on one of those things.’ Gant gestured to the aerofan.
‘So what do they want here?’
‘To kill calloraptors, I expect,’ said Gant. ‘It’s something Scar took great pleasure in.’
Thorn considered that. ‘I think we should move over to the side of the tunnel,’ he suggested.
In the seat beside Jarvellis, Cormac clipped his harness into place and watched her expert manipulation of Lyric II’s controls. The ship responded with a deep thrumming, like a musical instrument being played by an expert hand. He watched her take hold of the joystick as the screen revealed the debris being blown about outside. Lyric II lifted and tilted, its legs and feet quickly retracting before the toes could stub themselves on surrounding rock.