Crystal Venom

by Steve Wheeler

  Marko told Rangi of them and his attitude towards Marko and Jan changed completely. Until then, Rangi had just been doing a favour for his friend, Jake. Now Marko and Jan were suddenly family or, as he called it, part of his hapu, and he became considerably more engaging and entertaining.

  The FE2d was termed a pusher type, with twin wings. When Marko climbed into it, he discovered to his delight that the entire fabrication of the aircraft was a mixture of wood, fabric, wire, aluminium and, in the case of the pilot’s seat, some kind of woven plant material called wicker. There was no gunner’s seat, just a vertical tub arrangement for the gunner to stand in. It smelt completely different from anything he had ever experienced before and he loved every minute he spent looking at the amazing array of struts and tensioned wire with hundreds of turnbuckles keeping everything in line.

  That evening the rest of the club members arrived out at the field to meet them and they were made to feel even more welcome. They talked aircraft, engines and weapons and Jan was in her element as well when the club armourers arrived and let her see, and then handle, the machine guns. The club members had even gained themselves a licence to make and export the antique weapons, together with ammunition, and the resulting sales paid for them to build one or two new aircraft each year. Their intention was to have one example of every fighter aircraft from the First World War.

  Marko was fascinated when shown the paper blueprints of each of the aircraft, which were displayed down one long wall of the hangar, and, looking at the sign-offs on each plan, he could see that twenty-one flying examples had been built. On the next wall was another set of blueprints detailing the aircraft that they were either building or wanted to build. In another building behind the hangar, he thought his face would start to ache because his smile was that big when shown the antique tools and equipment used in making the planes. He decided that the club members were quite mad, but in a most wonderful way … by building such aircraft using original methods. Talking with the various members he became aware that there were almost two completely distinct groups within the club: builders and fliers. Only a very few individuals were both and they were quite an eclectic lot.

  Rangi was a local doctor and other members worked in a range of professions. People from the very top of the local community’s social hierarchy to the very lowest were represented, but once in the club, they were all equals. Doug Evans, the armourer, was a senior policeman, and once they got past the gruff exterior, found him to be a very likable fellow as well. They had to pay for their supper, as it were, by giving impromptu speeches on their various battles with the urchins.

  Even Nail made himself useful by destroying a few nests of a nasty local rodent which, to Jan’s horror, he seemed to greatly enjoy. Glint made himself equally popular by shooting down a local type of four-winged predator leatherwing, which flew high above the aerodrome and was known for attacking the slow-moving aircraft. Everyone, drinks in hand, rushed outside when another one was seen, so they could watch Glint go to work.

  ‘Glint, just make sure that I can recover some of it for sampling, please,’ Marko called.

  Glint laughed in reply. ‘Yeah, whatever, Marko. You are on holiday, but I will get the head for you!’

  Some of the members gasped when Glint strode out in front of the club, watched the leatherwing for a few moments, then spread out his legs and rotated his head to the rear. His head distorted in order to get his eyes as far apart as possible, and the rest of his long, lithe body and tail went completely rigid as he started firing. Hundreds of metres above them, the first shot separated the creature’s head from its body before the next three shots in quick succession blew the body into smaller pieces.

  Before any parts had hit the ground, Glint was racing away to fetch the head to everyone’s applause, which he acknowledged, gracefully bowing to them as he placed the 400-millimetre-long, streamlined and nightmarish head into Marko’s hands. Seconds later Nail took it from him, saying that it should be checked for pathogens and that he also needed to analyse it while it was still fresh. Marko just smiled.

  *

  They left late the next morning after flights in a two-seater Bristol F.2B, which they both exclaimed was very interesting, to say the least. The rear gun was mounted as a swing-around affair which would have been fun to fire, but as they were not members of the club, or checked out by the local officials, they were strictly passengers. Not that they really minded as it was an experience to be in the cupola anyway.

  When asked, Nail had no interest in going for a flight, intent on hunting out more rodents, but Glint cheerfully squeezed in beside one of the smaller women pilots and was taken aloft in an Albatross, which he hugely enjoyed, saying that he would really like to build one for himself.

  ‘Why would you want to build one, Glint?’ Jan asked. ‘Isn’t going for a ride in one enough?’

  The steel-grey creature rose up on his hind legs, looked at her and Marko, then back at the machines. ‘I’m not sure of the desire, I just have the need to make things. Maybe it is because there is so much of Marko’s own DNA and conditioning in me. I am constantly surrounded by people making or doing something. Just natural, I suppose.’

  Marko found the statement most revealing, as most ACEs did not generally express a desire to step outside of themselves and take on a whole series of new experiences until they were much older. After thinking about it for a few seconds he suggested, ‘How about you talk with Topaz when we get back to Basalt, Glint, so you can make a scale model of one to start with?’

  Glint nodded slowly. ‘That’s a good idea. I like that. Now which one? I’ll decide then get Nail to scan one for me.’

  They eventually had to say goodbye to the Aviators, and headed south towards one of the smaller and more remote chain of islands.

  For the next few days they spent a good deal of time in the water exploring a beautiful series of reefs. The aquatic life was sensational, although they had been forced to use the deterrent equipment to keep some of the predators away from them. One particular creature, which Marko’s data block identified as a barracuda type of fish, except three times larger, had obviously been desensitised to the electronic signals, as it came extremely close. As they swam through the crystal-clear water, it dived under them, turned, then came up between them at speed, to see if they were possible prey or not. It flashed upwards, disappeared through the surface, then seconds later came at them horizontally. Marko saw a flash of hard silver and an awful lot of teeth, before Jan smacked it with a stunner just as it was about to close on his legs. As it rolled over onto its back and drifted downwards, other predators started to be seen, so they decided that they had had enough, and beat a watchful retreat to the surface.

  Later that evening, they were lying together on top of the cabin of the housecraft, looking at the stars of the Milky Way. The weather forecast was for a decent-sized storm to come into their area late the next day, so they were making the most of the calm conditions before running for cover to one of the local harbours.

  Jan snuggled closer into Marko and murmured softly, ‘I could get used to this lifestyle. How about we chuck in the military, settle down somewhere, raise a family and have a normal life? I have effectively been on the move for a very long time. I’m tired of it. How about you?’

  Marko smiled in the starlight. ‘You know, I have been trying to bring up the same subject for a long time, but did not have the bottle. How about we tidy up the loose ends and vanish? It’s not like we have a money problem or anything. And besides, between us we have plenty of skills. My family would love you to bits as well.’

  Jan rolled to be face to face with Marko. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Marko took her at her word, and they made love right where they were, simply not caring of the watchers far overhead.

  *

  Part Four

  Cobalt Diamond

  *

  One

  Marko slipped his glasses on and scanned the heavens wheeling above them
as they lay relaxed in the afterglow of wonderful sex.

  ‘There he is.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Basalt.’

  Jan giggled. ‘Wave at him then.’

  ‘Now that’s intriguing.’ Marko said seriously. ‘The new camouflage system is program adaptive, right?’

  Jan nodded. ‘Yes, nice system — programmable as well.’

  Marko reached for her wrist and started tapping out a message. ‘We might be in trouble.’

  Jan tensed. She tapped back. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘There is a message on the outer hull. It reads MJRUN.’ Marko tapped. ‘It came on for a few seconds and is gone. There is also another frigate above Basalt. Looks like one of the Games Board’s Expeditor class.’

  Jan replied calmly. ‘No sudden moves. We casually make our way below and start heading back to the aerodrome at a nice sedate pace.’

  ‘Yeah, good idea. Have you something in mind?’

  Jan tapped: ‘Yes. Drop this craft off, lease one of the sports aircraft and start working out what to do.’

  As they pulled up the anchor and headed back to the aerodrome, which was only one hundred and fifty-six kilometres away, there came further confirmation that trouble was brewing. There was a message from the local Games Board media requesting an interview when they arrived at Lyttleton Harbour. And, importantly, there were no cheerful words from Sirius on the message, just her chop. Also, another message from the housecraft company saying that there had been a problem with a navigation module and that they were to take the craft to Lyttleton Harbour for servicing.

  Fortunately, Lyttleton Harbour was reasonably close to the aerodrome so they spent time getting closer, then stopped for the night in a beautiful cove along the coast from the aerodrome, and tried to get some sleep, holding each other close.

  Before dawn they were up, with all their gear stowed and ready to leave in a hurry, if necessary. They had also found their secure comms units and now conversed only through them, except for making small talk about the trip in case they were being monitored. Between them, the only weapons they had were their own sidearms, a knife each, and Glint. Marko had told the ACEs what was happening the night before, and Nail and Tux had spent the entire night searching for clandestine ways off the planet, but they had not been able to find anything that would not trip the local Net’s search engine’s alarm.

  ‘Tux, can we get Blackjack to pick us up?’ Marko asked.

  ‘I am in contact with her. She would need two days to configure herself for atmospheric flight as she does not have Stephine’s high-speed interface any longer. The best she can do is come down into the thermosphere to effect a pick-up. She believes that Patrick is compromised and that Games Board Expeditors are on board Basalt. All other crew members have been ordered back to the ship except us. She believes that you have less then twenty-four hours before the Games Board moves against you and subsequently those sentients close to you.’

  Marko groaned. ‘Jan, did you see any thermosphere-capable aircraft at the aerodrome?’

  ‘Nope, they would only be at the local hub, which is seven hundred odd kilometres north of here. Security would also be much tighter. We would not stand a chance.’

  ‘OK, it’s up to us then,’ Marko said.

  Jan agreed and started organising. ‘Nail, get on the net and start looking through every news item in a thousand-kilometre radius of us. If the Games Board heavies are here, they will have been noticed. Glint, get eating: load up your magazine.’

  Minutes later Marko added: ‘Nail, is there a real-time link back to the housecraft company about electronic activities on board this craft, and are our conversations monitored?’

  The cat answered quickly. ‘Yes, there is a datalink. Shall I disable it? There is no corresponding datalink for monitoring of human activity.’

  ‘No. But I want you to start to create a ten-hour sequence of readouts as if we are back at the aerodrome, showing that the engines are intact and performing flawlessly.’

  Jan raised an eyebrow. ‘Plan?’

  Marko nodded. ‘We strip out two of the antigravity units from the housecraft, plus their turbines, strap a seat onto each one and leg it straight up. We will need to get into the ancient aircraft maintenance hangars. They had all the equipment we need. Shall we lie to them, or tell them the truth, and also tell them to get as far away from us as possible?’

  Jan tapped her chin. ‘Go for the truth, Marko. It always amazes me how people will respond to a plea for help.’

  As the local sun was rising from the sea, they arrived at the aerodrome. Marko used his hired phone and laboriously tapped out Rangi’s number, which the sleepy-sounding doctor answered.

  ‘Hey, Rangi, this is Marko. We are at the aerodrome. Jan was bitten by something when we were diving yesterday. Her bioware is not handling it. Can you come out, please?’

  Rangi woke up fast. ‘Be there in fifteen minutes. I live just down the road.’

  When he arrived, they told him what they suspected and how, in their adventures, they had upset the Games Board on many occasions. Marko also told him what they planned to do.

  Rangi looked very serious, then replied slowly. ‘Hmm, well, you have to understand that we cannot be seen to assist you, but that does not mean that I cannot show you where everything is, and also where all the keys are. None of us have a lot of truck with the Games Board anyway. They scare us with their smarmy ways and their taking the brightest children then turning them into monsters who never come home again or have anything to do with their families. It is worse than a death. Right, follow me.’

  He gave them the keys, told them where everything was, including the weapons and ammunition, and even where the Cooper bombs and Le Prieur rockets were stored before adding, ‘In thirty or so minutes two of my sons will arrive. They are good guys and will do anything to help. The official story will be that I treated Jan, and then left, expecting you to do the same. They came down, found that you had broken in and you then forced them to help you. I will talk with Doug Evans as well, on the quiet. He is a good man and had one of his favourite nieces recruited by the Games Board. Loathes them. Jan, I had better get a reading of your blood, just to cover my arse. I have a sample of a local shellfish toxin that I shall splice into the sample data so it will look legitimate.’

  He took a med unit from his pocket, tapped diligently on it for a moment or so, then pressed it up against her finger for a sample. Nodding at her, he then placed a pair of large glasses on and scanned through the results in the HUD. ‘Yeah, as I expected, perfect health. One day I would love to be able to afford a bio-system like yours. Stay well. Good luck, guys. Kia kaha! Courage, keep strong. Until we meet again.’

  He kissed Jan on the cheek, shook Marko’s hand and, for a long few seconds pressed his nose against Marko’s, climbed onto his AG bike, waved and cruised away. They opened the main hangar doors, backed the housecraft in, and then rapidly got to work to strip two of the antigravity units out. The propulsion units were set up so they could be taken out quickly; as they unbolted the restrainers, the units swung out smoothly, even having little fold-out legs, which made life much easier. ‘Nice design, eh, Jan?’ Marko commented.

  Rangi’s sons, Todd and Bill, pulled up in a loud, low-slung wheeled vehicle that looked very impressive, complete with extensive exhaust pipe work down the sides. They climbed out through the top of the open cockpit, as it had no doors, introduced themselves and got immediately to work after Marko drew a quick diagram of what he needed, knowing it was ugly but effective. Nail jacked himself into the management programs of the antigravity units and overwrote the restrictors. He also overwrote the remote controllers so, once aloft, they could not be hijacked or shut down. Under his direction, Glint then disconnected the electrics throughout the units, as they would be welding fittings to them and did not want any of the circuits to short out.

  The first thing Marko did was strip the turbine exhaust back until it was a straight flow directly
aft. They stripped off the casings, leaving only the top and bottom parts of the shroud. Todd and Bill had returned by this stage with two pairs of elevators from one of the First World War aircraft. Marko showed them what he wanted and they mounted them in a V configuration, bolting them on the main mounting strut along the top of the turbine. The next task was to create a cockpit of sorts.

  Todd and Bill disappeared again then returned half an hour later having found a pair of floats from some abandoned aircraft or other. They cut the front sections away and roughly welded them directly onto the outer housing of the antigravity units, then opened them up to allow access, running a self-bonding tape over the sharp edges. They disappeared for another half an hour before returning with a pair of racing seats from one of their wheeled vehicles and two pairs of cylindrical fuel tanks, which they mounted directly above the turbine.

  ‘Marko,’ Bill said. ‘You have an hour of fuel and oxygen. Plan is to go straight up, yeah? We will rig the elevator so you can control the flight by warping the wings. You will have to do it manually as there is no time for anything nice.’

  Over the next few hours, while also nervously looking over their shoulders, they made the crude craft controllable. Marko set up a simple throttle link to the turbines after stripping some of the electronic control lines from the housecraft, but felt bad about doing this, so had Nail use the local communication links to book and pay for six months’ hire of a top-of-the-line housecraft, using one of their secret black accounts. Neither of them had ever trusted the Administration with all their funds. Marko’s family handled some of his as well, as a further backstop measure, and he also had black accounts held by some of his most trusted Gjomvik clients. Marko figured that the booking would adequately cover the costs of a pair of antigrav units and the repairs.

  The wind had picked up outside, gusting strong enough to rattle the big doors as they pressed on with their tasks while Glint supplied them with drinks and snacks.