by Stephen Hunt
‘Every time,’ snarled Lana. ‘Every time we have anything to do with Dollar-sign Dillard…’
Zeno shut his eyes, the same way he always did when consulting the compressed copy of the ship’s database he carried around in his head. ‘And Professor Sebba’s original PhD on Mars? The one area of study you’re almost guaranteed not to find practical work in unless you’re on highly classified government secondments.’
‘Let me guess . . . the Heezy?’
‘Give the starship captain a cigar. It’s not too late,’ said Zeno. ‘We can turn back now. We don’t have to see what’s down here. The best thing that’s going to happen is the alliance fleet catches us and wipes our memories. The worse is that they stick everyone on the Gravity Rose in orange jump-suits and lock us up on asteroid-max in some system that doesn’t officially exist on any star chart.’
‘I haven’t got so many memories left I can afford to lose any more,’ sighed Lana. Not after the cursed cold-sleep accident had left her as a perpetual amnesiac when it came to her past. ‘But I’m damned if I’m heading back to the surface without knowing what Dollar-sign’s got his tame academic tunnelling into this dying world for.’
‘We’re playing with fire, Lana. I was around during the original alliance-skein war . . . making my last will and testament, given how the skein are not big on any machine life except their own ex-organic souls existing in that perfect little post-singularity future they’ve got planned for everyone. This is universe-changing doodie we’ve blundered into this time.’
‘And the professor and Dollar-sign were planning to have us acting as the mules transporting it out to their buyers,’ said Lana. ‘No doubt well-concealed under a couple of hundred tonnes of minerals.’
‘Yeah, we’ve been had,’ said Zeno.
Lana felt like kicking the wall in rage. And the worse part of all was how badly they were being short-changed. She’d thought Dollar-sign was showering her with generosity, the amount he’d paid for the Rose to make this run. But the kind of material Sebba could drag out of a Heezy settlement – even half-fossilized and unoperational – that was shizzle you could trade for a small stellar empire in the Edge and think yourself hard done in the deal. And how the hell are we going to get out of this one? ‘Walking away would be the sensible thing to do, wouldn’t it? Find Calder. Get back to the ship. Jump out as fast as possible and let Dollar-sign find some other sap to run his interdicted fossils across the Edge.’
‘You read my mind, sister.’
Hell. ‘Let’s go and see what’s down here, then.’
They advanced down the newly formed passage, Lana struggling to keep the lid on her trepidation. A species that sets up shop deep under the world and only summons corridors into existence when they require them. That is a hell of a keep-out sign. Do I really want to go poking around their legacy? Except that Dollar-sign had arrived here before them and made the decision for her. The corridor ended and she found herself on a cavern ledge, no barrier to protect mere mortals tumbling into the colossal empty space beyond. Lana and the android carefully advanced, glancing over the edge. A dizzying view down a circular shaft the width of a small inland sea, narrowing to a distant vanishing point; maybe to the centre of the very world, no end in sight. But the pit wasn’t empty. Giant amorphous shapes moved up and down the shaft, changing shape as they drifted, merging with each other before breaking apart into squadrons of smaller objects. What is this, the universe’s biggest lava lamp? One of the shapes drifted past and she watched intently, as shocked as she was fascinated. Bright orange, the blob drifted covered in a circuit-like tracery of glowing yellow lines. Machines seemed to form around its skin, existing for brief seconds before being absorbed back into the surface. This one single globule must have been as big as a zeppelin. What purpose it served, she didn’t know. More programmable matter, that’s for sure. This was far from being a fossilised archaeology dig.
‘We’re really in trouble,’ said Lana.
‘This is the kind of swag that species go to war over,’ said Zeno.
‘I don’t have a species, I just have a crew.’ And damned if I want to see another war.
Lana glanced either side of her. The narrow ledge ran to corridors at both ends. Passages left switched in their open position, interface panels riveted crudely into each wall courtesy of DSD’s miners. The professor had been busy down here, getting to grips with the real mother lode.
‘How did they know this was down here?’ Lana mused aloud. ‘It’s not like there’s any sign of the Heezy above ground?’
‘I figure it’s that missing colony ship,’ said Zeno. ‘Maybe not everyone on board was quite as missing as the records suggest. Dollar-sign’s an expert at ferreting out obscure reports that lead to a quick buck. He practically lives in the data-sphere.’
‘I feel like an ant accidently crawled into the chief’s anti-matter drive,’ said Lana. ‘Looking around in astonishment and thinking: “Well, this ain’t no ant hill”.’
‘And that ant better be on the lookout for the chief’s size ten gravity boots landing on it,’ muttered Zeno.
With that cheery thought, Lana and her robot gang-boss crept through the passage to the left, another run of cold inky black walls, glistening like the veins of an unpleasant beast. A hangar-sized chamber at its end. This one contained a collection of equipment – obviously human – pitted ceramic tubes standing on tripods, transparent panels revealing globules of the Heezy’s programmable matter captured inside, tiny balls of the exotic material drifting around the tubes. Might be weapons. Might be computers. Might be data-nodes containing the extinct aliens’ music collection. Nothing larger than the size the humans could comfortably squeeze through the narrow access shaft. Yet, Lana reminded herself. After the base drilled their main shaft using the tech she had helpfully shipped to the mine, the looting would really begin apace.
Zeno crossed to an active screen the miners had unrolled and left standing in the middle of the chamber, marking the details of Sebba’s explorations to date. ‘The professor’s people have covered hundreds of miles of this complex.’
So, how are they getting about? Lana walked towards the one object in the room that was definitely not of human origin. Built into the wall at the far end sat a dark egg-shaped object the size of a small house. It was hollow with a raised dais fitting inside, like a throne for a mountain giant. The outside of the egg had another human interface panel drilled into it, which meant whatever this was, the professor had hacked it. Lana lifted a silver tool case from the floor and flung it onto the monster egg’s platform. As soon as the case touched the ground, the floor seemed to rise up like an angry sea, enveloping the container, and then it was absorbed into the back wall and vanished.
‘That’s how they’re moving around on this map,’ said Zeno. ‘Transport bubbles flowing through the rock face, travelling between levels and chambers.’
And she had thought that dropping down the access shaft was claustrophobic. ‘I’ll leave the pleasures of the Heezy subway system to the professor and her people. Let’s jump out of here.’
‘The cat’s scratched out all of her curiosity?’
‘This tabby’s going home,’ said Lana. ‘Sebba’s got a good few centuries’ head-start on my aching noggin understanding any of this alien voodoo. She can keep it. All I need is a bulletproof method of anonymously tipping off TA Fleet Intelligence about Abracadabra without the spooks tracing the information back to the Gravity Rose. After that, I figure Dollar-sign and his grubby friends will either disappear off the grid or suddenly develop acute memory loss. And all of this—’ she waved her hand around the chamber— ‘will be some highly deniable science team’s problem, not mine.’
‘S.E.P.,’ grinned Zeno. ‘Somebody Else’s Problem. My favourite kind. Now you’re cooking with antimatter.’
They retraced their steps, sealing the corridor that led away from the access shaft, before riding their chutes all the way up to the surface chamber. Lana and Ze
no racked the expensive levitation devices back in position, nothing out of place, and headed along the tunnel carved out under the mountain. She was half-way down the tunnel when her phone received enough signal to make a connection, vibrating into life. She checked the screen. It was a high-priority call from Polter. The navigator was running the signal through their makeshift satellite net. Good news, please? Lana flipped it into life.
‘Tell me that you’ve found Calder?’ said Lana, hardly allowing herself to hope.
She could barely hear the reply. Their depth under the mountain, or the dying world’s weird atmosphere? ‘Skrat—investigating. Withdrawing to largest—moon. Found—cavern—there—to hide.’
‘Hide? Hide the hell from what?’
‘Inbound vessel,’ squawked Polter. ‘Silhouette on—scan matches—ship—previous dealings.’
‘What ship, Polter?’
‘The Doubtful Quasar.’
Zeno groaned. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Pirates are always bad news. And when it was a pirate crew that Lana had tricked once before and made their rough cybernetic-armed captain look a prize fool, she just knew they weren’t cruising through the system looking for stray liners to ransom.
‘It is—confirmed, revered captain.’
The comms line became slightly clearer the closer they got to the entrance. ‘This is no coincidence. I knew we were being followed when we left Transference system.’
‘The chief has found—tracking beacon—in cargo hold,’ said Polter. ‘Unusually advanced. Must have been concealed—on station. I have welded it onto satellite—now inserted into orbit.’
The decoy signal should buy her ship time to slip away. ‘Good work,’ said Lana. ‘We’ll get back to Skrat’s shuttle and rendezvous with you on that moon. Send Zeno the coordinates for him to memorize. Stay hidden on silent running and full stealth as best you can. I don’t want Steel-arm Bowen getting his hands on the Rose. Update Skrat on the situation and send him flying back here towards the mountains, ASAP. What did you say his shuttle was investigating?’
There was no answer from the phone, just static. ‘Polter, can you read me?’
‘Maybe out of range, if he’s running for the moon?’ said Zeno. ‘This lousy damn atmospheric soup. Or the satellite might have passed over the horizon.’
‘I hope so,’ said Lana. The alternative was too painful to contemplate. Surely he’d be able to keep broadcasting as he was being boarded. Unless the pirates have upgraded their jamming gear after our last dance.
‘Are you sure it’s just the Gravity Rose that Steel-arm Bowen wants?’ said Zeno. ‘You did promise the mope that you’d marry him.’
‘Only to get us out of that mess on Gliese 832,’ said Lana.
Zeno shook his head forlornly. ‘Is there anyone in this sector of void you haven’t indulged in fleshie relations with?’
‘Yeah, your dad.’
‘Probably an android designer for a Japanese Kabushiki Kaisha who died sometime in the last millennium.’
‘You know, I thought he looked a little peaky.’ And now she faced the starkest of choices. A quick exit and abandon Calder to the hell jungle, or stay put to continue the search and put both Skrat and Zeno in danger. Maybe lose the Gravity Rose, too. No good answer either way.
Zeno knew what was whirring through her mind. ‘We can always light out to the moon in the shuttle, lie low and let Steel-arm pillage the camp. After he’s jumped out we can come back and restart our search for Calder.’
‘The pirates won’t jump out. Not without looking real hard for us first. And what the hell are we going to do if Steel-arm blunders into what we just found? Having a bunch of working Heezy tech fall into Dollar-sign’s dirty hands is bad enough. Can you imagine the fun that Steel-arm and his goons would have with it?’
‘Yeah,’ said Zeno. ‘Rumours were that the alliance fleet were busting worlds like soap bubbles at the end of the skein war. If that kind of heat reaches a pirate port, the only job offers the Gravity Rose will be getting is as an evacuation barge for anyone who can afford to run for deep space. That would be a rotten way to be remembered, wouldn’t it? The barbarians are at the gate, and we’re the ones who supplied them the battering ram to break through and usher in a new dark age.’
‘Almost as bad as some of your last movies.’
Zeno snorted. I shouldn’t tease him. Do androids sulk in an electric peeve? Only a few media geeks remembered the ancient films a long bankrupt media corporation had built him to star in.
So, this isn’t somebody else’s problem anymore. It’s back to being mine. Just the way the damn universe likes it. They reached the entrance and the universe showed its contempt for Lana’s plans. A ring of high power rifles pointed at Lana from behind a make-shift barricade surrounding the tunnel, her and Zeno’s chests a sudden haze of red targeting dots.
***
Calder tumbled to the floor again as he tried to stand up. The whole structure of the hunting lodge felt as though the attacking dragons were trying to uproot it from its foundations and hurl it into the air. Probably thought it was a nice hard egg filled with supper for the flight of massive winged lizards. The surviving robot caretaker won’t be good for much apart from as an aid to digestion . . . that leaves me and Janet Lento to satisfy them. There was a horrendous metallic ripping noise as part of the lodge tore from the side. The reinforced storm shutters shook frenziedly as something massive clawed at them.
‘I shall forget soon,’ warbled Momoko.
‘Unless you want to find yourself waking up every morning inside one of those monster’s stomachs with no memory of who you are and how you got there, do something useful.’
‘Hunting of flighted hyper-lizard is not permitted,’ cried the robot. ‘Health and safety guidance . . .’
‘You think?’ Calder grabbed Janet and lifted her up to her feet. ‘Make for the basement! The energy tap in the ground is the deepest part of the lodge.’ Maybe the dragons would be electrocuted when they tried to peck out the inhabitants sheltering amongst the heavy generator gear. Not much of a hope, but . . .
The lodge tilted to the side and Lento yelped as she tumbled down the sloping floor, Calder spilling after her. A fierce wrenching noise as one of their ground supports ripped away. These creatures were experts at using the rainforest as their food basket, dipping in and ripping out trees to reach the good stuff. Sadly for the exiled nobleman, he was the good stuff. Only Momoko managed to stay upright, some trick of his automatic stabilization system. If there was any upside to this situation, the shadowy figure Calder thought he had glimpsed – the thing punching dents into the lodge – appeared to have given up its assault and left the job to the dragons.
A faint vibration itched Calder’s back. He rolled over and the shaking followed him. It was the communication device Lento had offered him back in the jungle! He yanked it off his belt, raising the other hand to protect himself from a shower of debris spilling from the room’s built-in shelves. It sprung into life as soon as he touched it.
‘—down there? This is a landing boat of the—’
Gravity Rose! It was Skrat! Calder had never been so glad to hear the sound of the first mate’s voice fizzing over the comm. ‘It’s me, Skrat! Calder. I’m here with Janet Lento and a robot caretaker.’
‘I see your lights, I’m coming down.’
‘There’s a shuttle pad on top of the building,’ said Calder. ‘At least, there was.’ The angle the building was listing at, there was no way Skrat could land a shuttle and dock with the building now. ‘I’ll pop the hatch up top – you hover and lower the rear cargo ramp.’
Skrat’s voice fizzed back at him. ‘Good egg. Catch you on the flip-flop.’
‘The hunters will return one day and you will leave this place,’ said Momoko, his servos whirring and straining against the incline of the floor as he followed after Calder, the prince desperately trying to shepherd Lento towards the corridor to the stairs topside. He heard a
strange sound outside the lodge – a desperate bird-like squawking, but much amplified. The very sound of it was enough to set his nerves on edge. Do the dragons know they’re in danger of losing their supper? Momoko caught up with the pair of guests and helped push them both towards the roof exit. Well, Zeno always has room for another robot among the hundreds he manages for Lana on board the ship. Have to do something about that flaky memory, though. Won’t be much fun trying to teach Momoko basic vessel maintenance every day, for either ‘bot or android. Gods, let that be a problem I live to face. They reached the stairs, climbing towards the hatch. The lodge stopped shifting under their feet. Had the dragons spotted Skrat’s shuttle and flocked to defend their meal against the strange metal newcomer? Calder’s hands shook. He pulled the rifle off his shoulder, switched it back to full-auto fire and left it on max-mag field. They only had a couple of seconds to cross the roof and make it to the shuttle alive. An empty magazine or drained power cell wasn’t going to matter much if it helped them escape. And if we don’t make it, it will matter even less. Above the hatch he could hear the roar of the shuttle’s thrusters, dropping like a stone at speed, then the tell-tale whine of the anti-gravity chute kicking in as the engines died to ensure the craft didn’t fry the people it had arrived to rescue.
Calder glanced at woman and robot; all of them rendered slightly less than sane by their experiences. I feel like the one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind here. ‘When I pop the hatch, you run to the ramp at the back of the boat. Don’t stop. Whatever happens. Whatever you see. Just race to the shuttle as fast as you can. Don’t step in front of my rifle.’
Calder threw the hatch open and scrambled to mount the roof, swinging his rifle barrel to either side. Gods, but it was dark outside, the lights surrounding the saucer-shaped lodge ripped off – a stupidly colourful pall of soft illumination from the garden lanterns that hadn’t been prised up by the angry dragons – leaving Calder to focus on the beautiful oblong of orange from the shuttle’s rear cargo hold, ramp down, beckoning, as it hovered at the end of the lodge. No sign of what he had expected to find. Monstrous leathery wings beating through the air as the shuttle held the aerial carnivores off with its cannon. Nothing for me to unload on, either. His sweaty finger trembled nervously against the trigger. Lento sprinted past like a wild animal, the sight of the shuttle’s relative safety overloading what little remained of the woman’s mind, the roof clanging as Momoko’s heavy weight followed her. Calder was fast after them, retreating with his rifle ready. At the last second he leapt the yard’s difference between roof and ramp. Skrat must have been watching on the cargo cameras as no sooner had his boot’s scuffed into the shuttle, the boat began to rise, the whining increasing, then its thrusters kicked in, torching the remains of the lodge’s garden. And that was when Calder saw it. Among the burning landscaped garden and wreckage of the pulled-apart hunting lodge. The corpses of dozens of dragons, the vast creatures’ long necks sliced apart like eels by an expert sushi chef, some of the beasts lying mangled across the toxin fence, nocturnal scavengers already arriving, not quite believing their luck at the rich feast laid out across the hunting lodge’s wreckage. Fires and devastation covered up as the ramp sealed back into place.