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Starship Relic (Lost Colony Uprising Book 1)

Page 13

by Darcy Troy Paulin


  He popped a cube of crunchy candy-coated bac-mat into his mouth and savored its salty sweet goodness. He glanced at his midsection as he swallowed. The cube joined its brethren in his belly and Max wondered if the slightly rounded shape that was pushing out his jacket might be a permanent change.

  Just one more won’t hurt.

  He popped another candied cube into his mouth and washed it down with a swig of his drink.

  In New York it would be safer to reveal the secret of Snow’s true identity. And it would be more difficult for HOSaS to deny the claim. Here in SoChar which was in ‘The Regions’ it would be effortless for them to sow doubt. Even those who lived in the regions trusted news from New York above all others, including their own local news. And if the cover of the SoChar Craesher was anything to go by, they might not be so wrong to do so. The high-tech government of Tawnee, who were de facto rulers of Grailliyn, keep very much to themselves for the most part. They dealt with the rest of the world through New York and though they were careful to never say so officially, it was clear from their policies that they considered the rest of the planet to be backwards and uncivilized. It was very easy for them to deny claims of any sort made from outside either Tawnee or New York.

  Tawnee had created New York, but in recent decades it had taken a life of its own. Adopting a sense of liberty from the free-spirited people in the north which complimented nicely to the rigid structure of Tawnee. There was talk of a constitution, something unheard of before outside the theaters.

  Tawnee though still had great influence in New York, a city they had worked hard to make most important on Grailliyn. Even the regions' universities had a presence in New York, in the Round House, which was the access point to Icarus Core, and a place to come together for scholarly debate. For that reason, the Round House was their ultimate destination.

  According to Duncan, Icarus was not in New York at all. It was in Tawnee. Snow didn’t think this was at all strange. If they could transmit movies to the theaters, she said, they could transmit the ‘network’ too.

  “I know what a network is,” Max said. He wasn’t stupid after all.

  “You do?”

  “Ya. I’ve seen them in the movies.”

  “You’ve seen them? In the movies?”

  “Ah. No. But they talk about them in the movies. Sometimes.”

  “Oh,” she said, and shook her head. “It seems like the sort of thing you wouldn’t know.”

  “Nah. It’s like work friends and people that you don’t like but talk to because of work…”

  Snow said nothing.

  “And something with computers…?

  A whistle blew at the dirigible terminal signaling last call for boarding. It was the signal they were waiting for. The painted and striped nose of an enormous beige blimp was visible above the terminal, though the building itself blocked most of their view of the ship.

  At the sound of the whistle, Max chugged the last of his drink, and together he and Snow leapt up from their table. Grabbing their Doozer and their luggage, they ran towards the terminal. They breezed up the street and through the terminal’s arched entrance, flashing their tickets at the attendant. Quickly they rushed through the terminal, right past the largely empty waiting area to the wide spiraling stair that led to the ship, where they again had to show their tickets before ascending.

  Max looked around at the few people in the waiting area. Thanks largely to the small, impressive camera around his neck, Max recognized the man in the brown suit, despite the fact that his face was obscured, and that today he was wearing a black suit. The man recognized Max too. The look of disappointment in the man’s eyes was matched by the sense of relief that Max felt at having given the man the slip.

  “Don’t look now. The camera man is down there. He missed his shot,” Max said with a grin, though it had been Snow’s idea to wait up the street.

  Snow twitched, obviously eager to look down and gloat. But she mastered herself and carried on up the stair. When they reached the top, she gave in to her curiosity, peeking around Max’s arm.

  “Ha, ha,” she said, pointing down at the man.

  They hurried on and soon reached the short boarding ramp which lead onto the ship. The ship’s enormous hydrogen-filled body was substantially larger than the whole of the terminal building, with the smaller cargo and passenger bays slung below the ship, themselves the size of small buildings. They continued across the ramp and onto the hydrogen-filled dirigible airship, where they briefly handed over their tickets to have them punched.

  The inside of the passenger lounge was surprisingly spacious. There were booth seats spread in a large ring around the perimeter of the lounge and a smaller ring around the bar, which served drinks and food. Near the bar in the center there was a dance floor. Max looked for a table near one of the many large windows. But having arrived at the last minute, none were available, and they settled for a table on the perimeter of the dance floor, across from the bar.

  Max went to the bar to order drinks and the woman behind the counter indicated he should make his selection on the screen to his right. Max was surprised to see the glass screen monitor that stood on the bar top. It was similar to the Icarus access monitor at the Round House library in New York, though it seemed capable of only one color. Green letters glowed on the screen spelling MENU and a list of drink names. Max touched the screen as instructed, indicating the drinks he wished to order.

  “Is this a bio computer?” Max asked, though he was sure he knew the answer.

  The bartender indicated that yes it was, pointed to the small brand label at the bottom of the screen and smiled proudly. It read, ‘BioLogical’.

  Max had seen the screens at the theater and others like them, but he’d had no idea such small and interactive models had been developed. The screen was primitive as compared to the full color high-resolution Tawnee tech in the HOSaS library, but since that technology was vanishingly rare, these Bio Computers actually were an exciting new innovation.

  Max collected the drinks and returned to the table, intending to bore Snow to tears on the topic of BioTech computers. The mild look of concern on her face caused him to forget about BioTech entirely. He looked at the drinks as though they might be the cause. She gestured faux-casually over her shoulder at a window booth. A man sitting there was watching them. Max sat down and handed Snow her drink. He waited for her to tell him what was up.

  “He’s been watching me… us. He seems a bit too interested, I’m hardly the most attractive woman in the room,” Snow said.

  Max disagreed. By his reckoning, Snow was certainly the most attractive woman in the room.

  The man got up and started walking over to them. He was wearing a burgundy velour jacket with black trim and his handsome middle-aged face was framed by dark brown hair. He looked right at them as he approached, wearing a broad and open smile. When he reached their table, he introduced himself as Freenan. Max hesitated to respond, and Snow answered for both of them. She introduced herself as Snow and referred to Max as Bexley.

  Freenan spoke in clear English. Max had heard the accent before in New York and guessed he was a Yorkie. Technically Max was as well, but his speech pattern and accent suggest that Freenan was born and raised a Yorkie.

  Freenan asked Snow if they would like to join him at his window table, as he had observed that they seemed interested in one. Max interjected to say they would prefer to keep to themselves. Freenan, who would not take ‘no’ for an answer insisted they take his table and that he would take theirs since, as he explained, he’d flown this way many times and would do so again soon. Max, feeling like a jerk, apologized for his rudeness and accepted the kind offer.

  Max had also flown this way before, but only once, so he was hardly an expert on the sights. They watched the land pass below them as the plains slowly rose, gradually lifting from the edge of the blue green sea to the foothills of the Sharps Peak Mountains. Small forests of vivid purple, highlighted in red, green, and b
lack, dotted the landscape. At one point they passed close over a large herd of long limbed, fast running shek, one of the few Grailliyn creatures to lack any sort of armor plating that the majority possessed, whether from land, sea, or air.

  Max felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see Snow subtly pointing. He followed the line of her finger. A small precocious child with an even smaller child in tow, was walking around the tables singing, “Hi Ho the derry-O the dog takes the cat.”

  Max had heard the singing but had paid it no mind. The two-car little-girl-train walked right down the wide aisle between Max and the booth they had traded with Freenan. “The cat takes the rat!” she sang with maximum little girl cuteness. The smaller girl called out some of the words too, though a beat behind. “The rat!” she yelled.

  Max looked up from the two girls with the distinct impression he was being watched. Across from him was Freenan, the stranger that had traded them the booth. Freenan was watching the amusing scene below. But Max was sure that a moment before, Freenan had been watching them instead.

  Max turned slowly to Snow, trying to act casual. “I think that Freenan guy is still watching us.”

  Snow nodded, “Mmm hmm. That’s what I was pointing at,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  “I think he might want to ask you on a date.”

  “He’s just building up the courage?”

  “He has been looking at something in that folder on his table. Every once in a while, he looks up at you.”

  “Crab stones.”

  “Goodness, Max. Language!” Snow said with insincere outrage.

  “I guess we need to see what’s in that folder,” Max said.

  The two of them plotted the simplest of schemes to peek inside, or acquire, Freenan’s folder. Max would distract Freenan at the bar, whilst Snow made a move on the folder at the table. But they quickly found that the plan was a nonstarter. Freenan simply called for service when he wanted a drink and on the one occasion that he did get up to visit the bar in person, he brought the folder with him.

  “Screw this,” Snow said. She got up and began walking around to the dance floor to their original booth where Freenan sat. Max, caught unawares, struggled to catch up.

  “Freenan!” Snow said with a friendly tone, “I just wanted to thank you for trading booths with us. The views really are amazing.” She slid into the booth without waiting for an invitation.

  Freenan, as Max predicted, reached for the folder, and began sliding it off the table to his side of the booth.

  “What’cha got there Freenan?” asked Snow. She dropped her hand on the folder. The folder stopped moving. Max slid into the booth beside her and, reaching over the table, pushed Freenan firmly back in his seat. Snow grabbed the folder.

  “I can explain…” Freenan said, before she’d even opened the folder.

  Chapter 26

  “I work for HOSaS yes,” Freenan said in a hushed voice.

  No one had mentioned HOSaS. No one had even asked any questions.

  “But I am not here in that capacity. I’m a… ah… a Renegade you see.” In his eye, where a moment before there was something close to panic, there was now a sort of twinkle.

  “A renegade,” Max said flatly.

  “So, you are here to make sure Max has a pleasant flight and a good view, rather than trying to kill him again,” Snow said.

  “Oh… someone has made an attempt on your life then,” Freenan said. He did not seem to be shocked or scandalized, but he did seem a little excited.

  “Twice. At least twice. Are you going to explain why your people are so eager to kill him?” asked Snow, incensed.

  Freenan turned from Snow to Max, “This is a sensitive matter, perhaps we could discuss things in private?”

  “I find it is best to just submit to her demands in the beginning. It is much less painful in the long run. She knows everything I know already,” Max said.

  “Yes… well, I have been looking for you in the hope that you had not been injured or… ah… killed in any way. And I am quite pleased to find that you are in good health.” Freenan paused and turned to Snow. “And yourself as well of course… I didn’t catch your name…”

  “Snow White,” Snow said.

  “Ah, yes. A pseudonym. An excellent idea,” Freenan said. “About your accent, however. One might assume it to be a clever disguise, but a voice such as that is likely to draw attention to you rather than from you… shouldn’t your second name be Whitesdaughter?”

  Snow looked at Max. “Should it be?”

  “It’s not a code name. It’s a fairy tale—” Max said.

  “Ya,” Snow said, turning back to Freenan. “It’s a fairy tale. And what? We’re supposed to take advice from the most obvious spy in the history of obvious spies?”

  “Spy? Me? I am not a spy,” Freenan said, looking wounded. “I am the HOSaS science coordinator of post survey studies and juvenile ascendancy,” he added with obvious pride in his voice.

  Snow’s face said, “We-care-why?” The man seemed genuine, but she couldn’t yet be sure this wasn’t just more smoke for their butt holes.

  “Then I was supposed to report to your division in New York when I returned,” Max said, the tone in his voice said, Oh! That-Freenan.

  “Yes, yes. Indeed,” Freenan said, smiling happily.

  “Emphasis on ‘was’, of course,” Max said.

  “Oh, of course, of course,” Freenan said, “You now know that HOSaS is trying to… impede you, in a… well—” his voice dropped to a whisper, “Kill you. They are trying to kill you. So ah, so you must now look to redirect your passage and perhaps even your destination.”

  “I am surprised you admit you are trying to kill Max,” Snow said a little too loudly.

  She glanced about, to see if anyone had taken notice. The bartender was looking at them now, with some concern on her face. Snow smiled and winked at her. The bartender smiled back and returned to cleaning the already spotless bar.

  “No, no!” Freenan said, “Perish the thought. I perhaps more than anyone wish to fulfill HOSaS goals of discovery, to unlock the secrets of our shared history and origin. But…”

  “But what?” demanded Snow.

  “I can’t say… certainly not here. If it was discovered, my life would be forfeit,” Freenan said.

  “So, you would be in our boots then,” Snow said.

  Freenan looked at her, his expression one of confusion. “No offense… but why would anyone wish to kill you?” he said.

  His expression changed then, from confusion to curiosity. He noted her wig looked again back at the shape of her face, really looking this time. His eyes widened and he shut his mouth so fully his teeth clacked together. His eyes looked for and found the door to the balcony. He motioned in its direction then got up and headed straight out and onto the balcony, leaving the folder still unopened in Snow’s care.

  Max slid from the booth. “I think we can take him if he tries anything shifty.”

  Snow gave a thin-lipped smile and nodded agreement. She sort of hoped he did try something shifty. The two of them followed the science coordinator to the balcony.

  There were two sets of doors with a short hallway between leading to the open air. Outside the noise of the wind and the many small jet engines forced them to speak loudly but, as with the meeting at Cliff Falls, it covered their voices.

  “Do you know?” Freenan said to Max.

  Max nodded.

  “You’re one of the first people. Aren’t you?” Freenan said. It was a statement. He poked her in the arm. “What can you tell us? Why are we here?” then, adding to Max, with a tone of surprise, “Was she in the ice?”

  “Why don’t we start with why you are here?” Snow said.

  “I suppose I haven’t said yet have I?” Freenan said.

  “Nope” Max said.

  “Well, I am here to take you to Icarus Core. To convince you to come with me. There is nothing for you in New York. No answers. No answers
from the Core in any case,” Freenan said. “Sure you will be safe… if you can get there. But you Max, will be discredited and cut off. They don’t want answers you see. They think answers are dangerous.”

  “Where is Icarus if not in New York?” asked Max.

  Freenan paused in thought before replying. “In the heart of my home, of course. In Tawnee.”

  “You want us to skip New York, where you admit we would be safe and head straight into the dragon’s den? Never to be seen again?” Max said.

  “If safety is your primary concern then I assure you. There is nowhere in all the world that is safer than Tawnee. The moment you place one toe within the border of Tawnee, you are guaranteed all the rights of a native-born citizen. And though it is true you would most certainly never be permitted to leave… you would have no desire to do so! Everything you have here and much more would await you in Tawnee!” Freenan said, his sales pitch somewhat spoiled by the absurdity of his yelling it over the noise outside on the balcony.

  “Apart from having a life in my homeland you mean?” Max said.

  “Ah. Yes. Well… i suppose there is that small sacrifice…”

  “And if Tawnee is such a land of freedom, why haven’t I heard that about this before? Why aren’t people pouring across the border in a constant stream?” Max said.

  “Well, as for your first question,” Freenan said, “We no longer advertise. We haven’t actively sought immigrants since shortly after the establishment of New York.” Freenan smiled, seeming to enjoy educating the pair of them. “And in regard to your second question, surely you know how difficult it would be to reach Tawnee on foot, through the forests and swamps? There would be even less chance by air, which is the only other avenue.”

  “So, if HOSaS is so certain that I should be silenced, why invite us to Tawnee where we would have such freedom to do as we wish? Or is the right to speak one’s mind not in your charter?” asked Max, clearly not buying Freenan’s pitch.

  “Freedom of speech is indeed as prized a right in Tawnee as it is here in the North. It is rather that HOSaS is not inviting you to Tawnee. I am. As I said earlier, I am a renegade.” He made a flourish with his hand. “I wish to know the secrets of our origin. I am not satisfied with maintaining the status quo. I do not care to live in fear of the answer nor do I believe that knowledge is ever a thing to fear. How could it be? How could knowledge weaken our path onward? It cannot. Knowledge will only strengthen and inform our path. They lie when they argue that the answer is dangerous.” Freenan was raving now. “They wish only to hold on to the way things are. They fear the answer will end their power and hypocrisy and unite our peoples. Surely you have considered this hypocrisy? That Tawnee unites us and celebrates our shared heritage with movies in the theaters yet holds us apart with a moat of Grailliyn’s most feared predators.”

 

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