The Sunseed Saga

by Brett Bam

  “We are disconnected and in orbit over Africa, all systems green. I repeat, all systems green.”

  “Romeo that Ribbontail, I am grounded and need evac. Can you comply?”

  Jack Mac looked at Moabi, who nodded vigorously, flashing a finger.

  “Affirmative Captain, we have your location and we’re ready to roll. We can be there within an hour.”

  “Situation here is code red, repeat, code red. Armed hostiles in the vicinity. I’ll do my best to prep LZ. Code zeta three. Repeat, code zeta three.” Jack Mac had to think hard for a second. Zeta three? Refugees inbound? She wasn't coming alone, Dalys had someone in tow.

  There was the thud and rattle of gunfire in the background. “Dalys out.” The last message came garbled and hurried, from the chaotic sound in the background she was in serious trouble.

  Moabi was up and out of his seat before Jack Mac could give the order, Curtis looked nervously at him and left the RHS as soon as he gave her the nod. By the time she caught up to Moabi he was already halfway through the pre-flight procedures on the small shuttle on the underbelly of the ship. He handed Curtis a list of gear they would need and she started to open storage compartments. Then it was a waiting game as the Ribbontail swung around the world toward the necessary re-entry window. When Jack Mac gave them the green light, Moabi swung into the little plane.

  “Can this little thing get into and out of the atmosphere?” Curtis asked as he strapped himself into the small cockpit.

  He flashed his white on black grin at her. “In theory, yes. It’s never been in a gravity well though so who knows?” His smile widened at her worried look. “I wouldn’t worry about it Doc, I’ve flown her into the grazer communities on Jupiter, which have pretty thick air, the shielding is up to the re-entry, and this bird has a laser launch platform on the stern specifically designed to exit deep gravity wells. We’ll have to leave a laser behind on the ground when we leave, but I don't think Dalys will mind coughing up for a new one. Now get out of here, things are about to get hot.”

  Curtis watched the big man handle the small craft with casual ease. It dislocated from the grapples holding it and small air boosters shifted into position above the laser cannon.

  “Jack Mac, I’m all set here, positioning mirrors locked.”

  “Romeo that, happy hunting big guy.” On the RHS Jack Mac fired a powerful laser into the mirrors fanned out on the base of the small craft. The mirrors refracted the laser and thrust was created in the pocket of reflective material. He kept the laser firing until the plane had enough momentum, then he monitored it as it fell towards the planet, its hot shining mirrors brightly marking its descent into hell.

  The Ribbontail lost contact with Moabi as he entered ionisation blackout, leaving a long streak of flame across the monitors. After 25 minutes of falling, Moabi was in air thick enough to fly the vehicle like an airplane. He started a series of steep, banking turns to slow the craft as he approached the co-ordinates Dalys had sent them.

  Dalys broke off communications when the machines broke through the wall and obliterated the relay she was using to divert their attention. Well, at least now she knew the level of force they were willing to employ. They were hiding deep in the ruins of one of the old Earth cities which had fallen a thousand years ago. The concrete was crumbling to dust, but the rusted steel which was draped everywhere made this a good place to hide, it masked their heat signature to some extent. They were hunted through the ancient ruins for hours, running though derelict retail districts filled with shattered glass and burned facades. They ran through old plazas open to the sky and covered in dust. They moved through the buildings and stayed off the streets. For a long while the machines were close by and she had been forced to delay contacting the Ribbontail. She watched from a shattered window across a cracked street as a patrol of military grade robots stormed the ruin they’d just vacated. The buildings were too small for the spider-like machines to successfully navigate, so she was able to dodge them time and again. So far, her luck had held, but they would soon deploy something sleek and fast that would be able to handle her defence field easily enough. She hoped Moabi got there before that happened. Kulen was small and light in her arms, hardly a hindrance, and Dalys could run and jump with him clutched to her chest. So far, her defence field had proven stronger than any of the ordinance they had been able to muster. Twice they had come under direct fire, but the shield had held. They had been knocked across the floor and through a door, but the shield encased them and deflected the murderous impacts. The small boy was unconscious, and Dalys was worried about the several deep cuts and some of the more nasty bruises. It felt like his left arm was broken. He was so small and frail. Why would the machines do this to a child? Dalys had given the boy as much help as she could but it would take serious medical attention before he would be healthy and smiling again. His right hand was encased in some kind of metallic glove that was warm to the touch. It was weird, smooth, unblemished and perfectly reflective.

  They were hiding in an abandoned warehouse district. Tall walls of cracked and broken window panes, yards of concrete, cracked and tilted with little forests pushing through. Her internal timer signalled. She had just reached her departure time. The shuttle was on the way down to the coordinates she had sent. She had to get to the LZ as quickly as possible. She walked out of the abandoned office where they had taken refuge. She trotted down a couple of flights of stairs holding the boy in her arms. He was breathing but silent. She walked across a wide open floor, stepping quietly. There was a tall crack in the wall which was wide enough. She stopped and searched the open area in front of her. A far off crash told her the search was moving away. She walked across the field and ducked into another building. She ran straight through it and into a patch of open ground behind. There was an old wire fence that had rusted and fallen apart and she vaulted over it easily enough. The fence marked a concrete ditch, which ran into a tunnel under a road. Dalys slid into the ditch with Kulen on her shoulder, then crept along it and under the road. She stopped in the dark in ankle deep water and watched the light patches on either side for shadows. Minutes later her comm beeped.

  “Good morning Skipper, this is your rescue team speaking, if you would kindly tell us where the hell you are, we'll be along shortly.”

  Dalys almost laughed at Moabi’s casual attitude. She felt so much tension drain at the sound of a friendly voice that she felt dizzy for a second. She moved out of the tunnel and stood in the ditch looking skyward but seeing nothing. She toggled her beacon and climbed up the embankment.

  “I'm right here Moabi, conditions are hostile.”

  “Acknowledged Skipper, coming in hard.” He sounded as calm as a trans-world liner pilot announcing arrival times to passengers. Then the sky screeched and burned and the small plane was down in the field alongside the ditch. Dalys came running.

  A hatch popped open and Moabi leaned out as eight of the spider robots rolled up to the fence behind Dalys. They slapped their legs down and brought their weapons sets to bear. There was a burst of bright light, a laser burning down from the orbiting Ribbontail. It cut through the machines arrayed on the fence line like an arc welder. Dalys didn't even look back as the machines fell into pieces in showers of sparks. She heard Jack Mac whoop on the data band.

  “Bang on from the upper ionosphere! New personal distance record 478 Klicks!”

  Two minutes later they were strapped in and under acceleration out of the atmosphere, the ground-launching laser burning brightly below, abandoned. When they hit freefall Moabi eased off on the thrust by simply turning out of the path of the laser they had used to relaunch. He triggered the signal beacon and saw the blue flare of the Ribbontail’s drive spark on the horizon. Curtis began to examine the boy, her left eye flashing and liquid blue as the implant ran a diagnostic.

  “What’s this on his hand?” Curtis tapped the boy’s silver encased hand and it clinked like metal.

  “I have no idea.” said Dalys without turn
ing around. “It’s not a glove, I checked. It’s fixed to his hand somehow, maybe some sort of prosthetic?”

  “Well, maybe. It’s strange, the scan is reflected, I don’t actually know what could do that. I guess Jack Mac or Berea can run their own scans on it later. I’ve stopped the bleeding and his arm is set. These antibiotics should fend off any infection.” She touched a small patch to his neck over the carotid artery and left it there. “Have you heard him speak yet?'

  “No, why do you ask?”

  “I was just wondering what language he speaks and what his name is.”

  “His name is Kulen De Sol, the son of Marcos, who died protecting him from a machine. The damn thing killed him while he was on his knees. His father spoke Allspeak.”

  There was quiet in the module as they considered what Dalys had said.

  “Skipper,” said Moabi, “what the hell is going on? Did a war erupt? Did an asteroid strike? What happened? Everything is falling apart. The communications net is scrambled, we were lucky to get your signal! This is the Protocol, I thought their technologies didn’t fail, and now Earth Harbour has crashed into the Atlantic Ocean? What in the names of Life, Luck and Fate is going on?”

  “They want me. They want this.” Kulen said and held up his hand. The silver glove flowed like liquid across his knuckles and Kulen turned his hand palm up. The silver was gathering in the palm of his hand, wobbling like mercury. It started to spin. The spin grew faster as they stared at it, surprised. Curtis and Moabi had their mouths open and their eyes were wide. Dalys frowned and looked again, unable to believe what she was seeing. The flowing liquid formed a sphere as the wobble stabilised and the spin increased, like liquid being poured into a decanter. It solidified slightly and spun even faster. Then it lifted from the palm of his hand and hovered a centimetre above it, reflecting their startled faces back at them. Dalys couldn’t tell if it was still spinning or not. She was aware of a subliminal hum in the small compartment.

  “What is that?” Dalys had never heard fear in Moabi’s voice before, but it was unmistakable now.

  “It is the Machine.” The small voice surprised them all and Dalys looked up from the silver sphere and into Kulen’s eyes. A small electrical shock seemed to pass between them. Dalys felt like she'd been caught naked in the shower for a small second. Kulen’s eyes sparkled and, for a moment, Dalys couldn’t decide what colour they were.

  In that awareness that showed him the reality of the fabric, Kulen saw a bright spark bullet towards the ship. He jerked his head around in the direction of Earth as if he could see straight through the bulkhead, and he could. Far away in space, in the vacuum that spread between him and the real and the physical and the otherplace, he could see the Protocol seething in disarray and confusion. It was all very bright, but far away and small. All except for one bright burning light that was thrusting toward them at fantastic speed.

  “They're coming. They're coming for me.”

  The naked fear in his voice alarmed them all, but it was Curtis who touched the scared boy on the arm. “Relax Kulen, you're safe now.”

  Kulen looked straight at her, fear in his eyes. “No, I’m not. They’re coming now.”

  The comm system beeped and Jack Mac’s voice flooded the small cabin.

  “Incoming bogey, Skipper! Its vector is plotted to intercept us. It’s not answering any hails. Initial scan show plenty of weaponry. It should be here in seven minutes.”

  The three adults looked around at each other before Kulen spoke again.

  “They are chasing me because I took this.” He reached up and grasped the spinning globe tightly in his hand. It looked heavy.

  “What the fuck is that thing?” asked Berea, slightly more unnerved than most of them.

  “It’s what they want. It’s why they killed Marcus and why they chase me. None of us are safe here. We must flee.”

  Dalys toggled her comms, “Jack Mac, lock the weapons array onto it, if that ship fails to answer your hails within two minutes of intercept I want you to blast it out of the sky. I'm not taking any chances right now.”

  “Aye Skipper, weapons lock now.” Jack Mac’s voice.

  “Curtis, get the kid into the med bay and lock him down. Then get into a couch yourself. I don't think we're through this yet, not without some more fighting. Moabi, let's go.” She looked at Kulen and saw his relief at her belief. She saw his faith that she would get him away from this danger and that made her want to laugh at him. She said nothing as she walked away.

  They hurried up the corridor towards the RHS, leaning into the thrust-created gravity the ship was producing. Dalys got to the RHS 30 seconds before her deadline and took in the situation displayed on the consoles at a glance. The Protocol ship was definitely on an interception trajectory. It was already within weapons range but it hadn't fired. Dalys slid into her couch and toggled her console, all the while monitoring Oscar’s efforts to raise the approaching ship.

  “Unidentified vessel, you are converging on us at a hostile speed without communication. If you do not alter your vector or answer this hail you will be fired upon.” Dalys had run scared on the ground, hunted and helpless, but now she was on her ship and she would be very hard to catch, and she could bite back. The channel hissed blankly at them. Berea turned a baleful eye toward Dalys and shook her head.

  “Moabi, arm cluster three.”

  “Aye, Skipper, cluster three primed and ready.”

  “Knock him.”

  Moabi fired the cluster. Ten small explosive missiles dropped from the weapons array and ignited their thrusters, accelerating towards the Protocol craft at thirteen g’s. A second grouping of ten missiles followed it, and then a third.

  “Acceleration.” she said into the ship wide comm, and then leaned into the flight pads. The Ribbontail accelerated away from the blast zone at three g’s.

  The Protocol vessel fired a salvo of its own, but its acceleration was so high that it almost outran the missiles it had fired. The defensive wall was too close to the vessel and was insufficient to prevent Dalys' missile cluster from breaking through. A spectacular storm of explosions blossomed in the path of the Protocol craft. Four missiles penetrated the salvo and the Protocol craft burst apart in an unexpectedly violent explosion which was so bright the filters on Dalys’ console had to dim the display.

  The Ribbontail accelerated away from Earth and into the relative safety of space. Dalys set a course for the nearest controlled space of the Community of Man. It was a long haul. They had to cross Martian space and, to avoid trouble, Dalys would have to climb above the ecliptic before running the gauntlet. The chances of running into anything which could intercept them out there was minimal. She corrected her trajectory and fired the Tokomak.

  The Ribbontail flew off into the void.

  Chapter 12

  Earth

  The Protocol coalesced once more, slipping again into the fabric of the otherplace, searching for those umbilicals to the physical world, the places where the weave met reality. They sank quickly down into its depths, gathering processing power as they went. They felt the resurgence of information like a shower of water, the darkness vanishing like an unfelt strangling claustrophobia, suddenly released. Each entity felt itself blend with the others in a synergy of communication and shared thought. Information began to flow and time once again became a fluid thing.

  One of their member was gone, scrambled and dispersed, eons of information vanished irrevocably. The African Continent and the Installation were lost. They watched and recorded and notarised and measured as the gigantic explosion demolished the remainder of the southern tip of the continent. They managed to find routes into the chaos and begin to effect repairs, striving to limit the catastrophe. The Harbour fell into the Atlantic Ocean and was also lost to them. The Atlantic Sea Cities were shattered and drowned. Their resources were fractured and depleted and they had failed to bring closure to the affair. They watched in frustration as a small shuttle made landfall and removed the
Kulen De Sol from the surface of the planet.

  They had cast two probes at the small shuttle. The first was scrambled successfully from Africa City and it shot into orbit in time to be destroyed by the Ribbontail. The second was launched from a facility in Australia. It blasted into orbit and was prepared as an invasive recovery vessel. An experimental weapon was inserted because it was the only resource available on short notice. It was designed to attach to the superstructure of the offending vessel and puncture a hole in its spine, immobilising it. Then a retrieval unit would swarm the ship’s interior and retrieve all living specimens on board. It was launched into space and the Protocol was forced to endure a waiting trial under physical time, which for them was like centuries.

  Chapter 13

  Dalys

  30 days before the flare

  Dalys, Jack Mac, Moabi, Berea and Oscar were all manning their stations on the RHS. The Ribbontail was surging through space smoothly at a steady five g’s. The crew were all relatively travel fit, they had thousands of hours logged at heavy thrust. But Oscar was suffering greatly this far into a burn. His body wasn’t used to the strenuous regime of heavy thrust and vacuum required while flying.

  In the med bay Curtis was remotely manipulating a robotic arm, running a medical diagnostic on Kulen. They were both pressed solidly into their couches, unmoving. Curtis' eye flashed and shone a bright blue as she interfaced with the arm. As she looked at the display squirted into her retina she started noticing anomalies in his readings. She could detect no heart beat. According to the readout he wasn’t breathing. There was no thermal reading at all.

  “That's strange... what is that?” she muttered to herself. She’d never encountered an initial diagnostic like this. Had her systems crashed somehow? She reset the display and re-examined her scan. The readout flickered and numbers started coming in. His musculature showed extensive scarring. At the second, closer examination the same scarring patterns showed all over his body, nervous system, skeletal structure, lymphatic system, everything. It was like a patterned weave she recognised. She’d seen the same scarring patterns in Moabi before. He bore this same internal tattoo of scarred tissue mass because he’d been force grown with hormones and drugs to speed up his cycle. He had been through puberty at five years of age and was fully grown before he was ten. Had this boy been force grown?