“Agreed,” Mitchell said, turning to face the Banthalo once more. “We wish to monitor the installation.”
“Nez ceptakisollo,” the earless one mumbled.
“Unacceptable,” came the reply from the interpreter drone.
“Captain, I don’t trust them,” Raven grabbed his arm, lowering her voice. “More importantly, I don’t trust Roshana. For all we know he could plant a bomb on our ship.”
“I’ll handle this,” Captain Mitchell assured her, and looked the central Banthalo in the eye as he spoke. “We demand to speak with Roshana.”
The Banthalo seemed displeased with their response, but the earless one produced a small piece of handheld gadgetry and proceeded to point it at the interpreter drone. The two groups stood in silence for a few moments, before the drone’s focusing lens began to glow and then emitted a conical beam of orange light which slowly began to take on shape.
“My dear Captain,” came Roshana’s shrill voice, as the holographic image began to take on his shape. “To what do I owe the pleasssure?”
“You know damned well I’m not leaving my ship unattended while you gut her and do God knows what to her systems,” Captain Mitchell boomed.
“Such distressss,” Roshana sneered. “I assssure you, Captain, there isss nothing sssinister here.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Mitchell snapped. “I demand that my chief engineer be allowed to supervise the installation.”
“I am afraid that isss not possssible, Captain,” Roshana countered. “You will sssimply have to ssshow sssome faith.”
“Faith!” Raven burst out. “You piece of sh-”
“Raven!” the captain cut her off, shooting her a commanding stare.
“If our termsss are not to your liking, Captain,” Roshana continued, “you are free to ssseek alternative transssportation off Nos Ssshana. However, you’ve proved your usefulnesss to usss and whatever you think of the… ssserviccce you performed for usss, we are more than willing to pay the priccce agreed.”
With that, the holographic image promptly vanished.
“I curse the day I ever met that infernal cunt,” Captain Mitchell moaned.
“As do I,” Serena agreed.
Realizing their dilemma, Mitchell was left with no choice but to leave the Tengri in the hands of the Banthalo workers.
An hour later, the crew was assembled on the platform, most of them clutching rucksacks and small cases of personal effects and vital equipment. Before they left, the worker with the missing hand gave directions to affordable accommodation before speeding them on their way.
Emerging from the walled-off complex that housed their docking platform, the crew saw the streets of Sheijan with their own eyes for the first time. Unlike the dense, compacted sprawl of Semeh’yone’s New Arrivals’ Zone, Sheijan was a far more vertical city, and more spacious too. Where the New Arrivals’ Zone had clearly tried to make use of every available meter of deckspace, the Sheshen city ‘streets’ were really concourses, bridges and walkways slung between the upper levels of the towering spires that soared overhead, hanging safely above the greenish mist of the atmosphere below. Between the pitted, crumbling towers, beggars rummaged through the filthy walkways, armed mercenaries bore their weapons openly as loud music spilled out into the streets from a variety of shady establishments, some carved into the ancient buildings, others crouched awkwardly on the concourses themselves, and peddlers sold their ill-gotten wares at every turn. Beggars slept in the streets beneath stained blankets, cowering in fear at each passerby. Alien vermin scrambled for food near the heating vents, competing with the dispossessed for whatever morsels they could find. Marcus even saw a bored-looking, half-naked violet-skinned female fornicating with a male of her race in the middle of a suspended square. Sheijan seemed to be a veritable haven for cutthroats, lowlifes and the destitute.
Fortunately the establishment they had been directed to was not too far from the docking platform, which sat atop a truncated tower, leaving little need to wander through the rancid streets for too long.
As they approached the hotel, Marcus became quite aware that they were drawing a lot of stares from the city’s inhabitants. It was the first time since the customs inspection on Semeh’yone that the whole crew had left the Tengri together, but their numbers did little to lessen the nervousness that was rapidly building up among them as they traversed the dilapidated city, and peaked when they saw that the hotel sat on a run-down platform, enveloping a small square, its buildings incorporating a massage parlor and a sleazy diner.
“Is this really the best we can afford?” Taz let out, visibly disgusted with the scenery.
“We don’t know how far we can stretch the funds we were given on Semion,” Captain Mitchell warned them. “We have to use them sparingly.”
Marcus peered over the handrail of the walkway, staring into the depths. Dark shadows crept along a series of intersecting catwalks, stairways and scaffolds that disappeared into the abyss below. Screams of agony and despair could be heard faintly in the distance. As grim as things looked to be on the ‘surface’ of Sheijan, Marcus shuddered at the thought of what lurked beneath.
The captain instructed the crew to await his return while he entered the hotel in hopes of securing accommodation. He brought with him only Serena and Jago, Serena for interpretation and Jago for his intimidating demeanor in case things went sour, or to offer a better position for bargaining. The rest of the crew waited outside under the watchful eyes of Marcus and the other clones, armed and armored against the dangers of the city.
“How about you and me share a room?” Taz whispered to Liana Tinley, the crew’s technician.
She was a shy, boyish-looking woman who looked several years older than the clones’ apparent age, with short strawberry-blonde hair, a button nose and pale green eyes that seemed to water every time someone met her gaze. Marcus hadn’t paid her much attention, most likely owing to her shyness and apparent disinterest in socializing with the cloned soldiers.
Her response to Taz’s advance was one of silent retreat as she repositioned herself further away from their womanizing scout.
“Bah, a week in this hell hole?” Taz moaned. “Somebody shoot me now.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Liana muttered under her breath, drawing a light chuckle from Reid, who’d overheard her.
“At least we got to keep our weapons,” Taz consoled himself. “I wouldn’t want to walk around these streets unarmed.”
It wasn’t long before Captain Mitchell and the others appeared in the doorway, gesturing for the crew to join them.
* * * * *
To save money, the captain had negotiated shared rooms for most of the crew. Marcus was assigned one with Reid, Taz and Doc Taylor. It was a dingy little chamber, barely large enough to hold a pair of bunk beds. A tiny window on the far wall had been shoddily painted over with a dark, grimy substance, so the only source of light was a thin strip of luminous panels which lined the walls near the ceiling.
“I don’t even want to know what that bed’s been used for,” Taz joked, looking at the none-too-clean blankets.
“At least it’s seen more action than your cot on the Tengri ever will,” Reid teased him, heaving himself onto the lower bunk opposite with a groan.
“We should really find a proper doctor for that leg,” Taylor said, kneeling to examine Reid’s wound.
The medic had bandaged it as best he could, but the blast had seared all the way through to the bone. Luckily the wound had been cauterized, but there was still the risk of infection and the leg was essentially useless, not to mention the fact that Reid was too reliant on painkillers to be able to function at all.
Dr. Gehringer had offered to attempt to replace the damaged muscles and sinews with cloned tissue, but given the lengthy growth rate and the risk involved with such an operation, perhaps another alternative would prove to be more promising.
“In this place?” the sniper complained. “I don’t think they’re up to speed on Terra
n physiology.”
“But they might be on Gaian physiology,” Taylor pointed out. “We still don’t know who the Gaians, are or how long they’ve been a part of… all of this. With luck there might be someone here who can help.”
Reid paused to weigh the alternatives. Being left without the use of his leg meant he was forced to steady himself with a crutch or rely on one of the others for support, rendering him pretty much useless.
“It’s worth a shot,” Marcus agreed.
“Tomorrow,” Reid persisted. “Right now I just want to get some rest.”
That night they lay on soiled bed sheets, stained with the countless visits of questionable patrons. Taz and Reid were quick to surrender themselves to sleep, leaving Marcus and the Doc alone with their thoughts. Neither of them had much to say to one another as they lay in the half-light of the filthy room. Taylor was too busy inhaling a steady stream of cigarettes and Marcus was still too wrought with the guilt of their last endeavor.
“How many of those did you bring?” Marcus finally asked him, puncturing the awkward silence.
“What, these?” the medic asked, holding his up lit cigarette. “I’ve got enough.”
“Hmmm,” Marcus sighed, not particularly pleased to hear that he would continue to be subjected to the medic’s unpleasant cloud of smoke.
He stared in silence at the rusted metal ceiling plates. Condensation gathered around the edges, forming small droplets which, every so often, would plummet down to the floor below. He realized that despite all their hopes and dreams, that’s all they were. Droplets of water, just waiting for their time to fall.
Chapter 30
Having been ferried offworld from Beta Terra under a veil of secrecy, the assembled dignitaries were led through the station by an envoy of armed guards. The air was dry and stale, but that was to be expected aboard an orbital complex. Somewhere at the edge of the vast network of intertwining corridors, a massive airlock sealed shut with enough force to send a small tremor throughout the corridor.
The guards wore black hard-shell vests, padded arm- and leg-guards and black reflective visors that covered their faces from brow to chin. Though the armed men carried no discernible markings to indicate their origins or rank, each of the new arrivals – except perhaps the youngest – knew who they were, and why they, some of Terran society’s most powerful and influential figures, had been brought there.
Pipes and wiring lay exposed along the side walls of the corridors, and the dim lighting did little to lessen their unease at the sudden nature of their summons. Still, it showed that this was a station with a functional purpose that didn’t include catering to high-ranking visitors.
They were led down what appeared to be a wide central corridor, their shoes clanking on the rough metal grate underfoot. A stale, warm breeze seemed to permeate the area, randomly changing direction every so often as they passed vents or smaller branching corridors.
“I must admit, I’m surprised to find you here, Ms. Muromoto,” Leicester Amorosa commented to the small, dark woman as he heaved slightly from the brisk pace, “Especially given the sensitive nature of this… project… and your father’s connection to C-CORE.”
“I’m afraid I can’t say the same for you, Amorosa,” Mariko countered with a devilish smile. “I always knew you for the conniving, manipulative bastard you truly are.”
Leicester chuckled. It hadn’t been often that he’d encountered someone he considered his equal in the corporate arena, and it had been even less often that such figures were women, but he had been monitoring Mariko’s recent exploits quite carefully. Her sudden rise within the Muromoto Group, coupled with her appearance aboard this station, meant she was indeed every bit as ruthless as he had suspected.
“What is all this?” bellowed the youngest of the three. Unlike the others, Ellis had inherited his involvement in the project following his father’s sudden passing, and it seemed that no one had been willing or able to answer his questions. “I demand you tell me why you’ve had me brought here!”
The guards didn’t so much as hesitate on hearing his outburst, but continued leading them along yet another lengthy corridor, much the same as the ones before.
“You’re Benedikt’s son, aren’t you?” Leicester asked the youth after a moment of awkward silence, slightly puzzled. “I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a great man.”
Ellis’ reply was a scornful look, one that made it clear he didn’t want to hear any further mention of his father, his death, or his accomplishments.
“The Bauer boy?” Mariko chuckled in disbelief. “Here?”
“Can you tell me what this is all about?” Ellis asked. “These morons seem to have lost their tongues.”
Their escorts refused to react beyond a stiffening of their shoulders, having been instructed to have no interaction with the new arrivals save to escort them to their destination.
“I think you’ll have to wait,” Mariko replied. “What little we know won’t do you much good. Besides, I think they will want to tell you themselves.”
“TELL ME!” the youth raged, losing what little self control he had left.
“Now, now, Mr. Bauer. There’s no reason to cause a stir. Besides, knowing would spoil the fun,” echoed a crackling voice over the station’s intercom.
The dignitaries stopped abruptly, eyeing one another in concern.
“Move along,” one of the guards urged, ushering them further into the complex.
A short while later, the corridor widened to reveal a set of double-wide, heavily-fortified doors. A security detail of a dozen men armed with carbines stepped aside to allow them entry. With a series of clanks and whirring sounds, the door ground open, revealing a platform overlooking an enormous cylindrical chamber which ran the entire length of the station. Inside, the TFS-Genesis, Captain Intari’s battleship, lay berthed beside a lone frigate, dwarfing it several times over in size.
The Genesis was shaped much like an elongated locomotive, easily four hundred meters in length and sporting nearly a dozen decks. It towered over them, a dark and twisted block of metal. The sharp outline of its silhouette was broken above and below by the bulges of extra decks and a pair of short, thick towers that clustered towards the rear of its length. The overall shape reminded Mariko of an absurdly large assault rifle, lined with massive segmented hull plating.
Next to the huge warship, the small, twenty-meter frigate was a polished white color and could easily have fit inside the Genesis’ cargo bay. Its cylindrical core was only two decks thick for most of its length, bulging above along its rearmost third and at the over-and-under block of its engines at the rear. A veritable swarm of technicians and scientist hovered about on walkways and bridges which spanned the width of the chamber, tending to both ships in a flurry of frantic activity.
On the viewing platform stood their reception party, a small group of Division 6’s notables, including the gaunt Captain Intari, the diminutive Dr. Reisner, and the unexpected presence of Senator Yoishi Tomiko. The Senator, a balding middle-aged man with slanting eyes, stood at the forefront of the group, hands held wide to bid them welcome. He wore a grey suit with an almost satin finish and a plain black tie, his disingenuous smile belying his devious nature.
“Almost nine years ago,” he began as the three new arrivals came to an uneasy stop just inside the huge hatch, “you were approached with a unique opportunity, a chance to help lead Terra into the future. Although in your case,” the senator looked to Ellis, “it is your father’s legacy which has brought you here.”
The senator cleared his throat as he gestured for Dr. Reisner to prepare for the demonstration.
“I must apologize for having brought you here with such little notice,” he continued. “A minor inconvenience, I hope. But it is time that we demonstrate what your considerable investments have helped to create.”
In the background, Dr. Reisner had produced his datapad and was entering an activation sequence, turning to inspect the sma
ll frigate docked alongside the Genesis. A series of tubes and cables began to detach from the frigate’s hull, sending billows of steam into the air.
“I should make it clear to all of you that what you are about to witness must kept in the strictest confidence,” Senator Yoishi warned, “lest you discover that all of your combined wealth and power is insignificant when compared to the unshakable will of Division 6!”
With that, the Senator turned to face the frigate, whose engines began powering up. At the end of the enormous cylindrical chamber a massive airlock began to open, causing a brief flash of terror across the faces of the new arrivals as they half expected to be sucked into space, along with everyone else present. Instead, they were startled to see a shimmering barrier of pale azure light filling the gap between them and the abyssal void.
The sound from the frigate’s engines began gaining in pitch, the sapphire flames spewing from its thrusters flaring intensely. A brief moment later it had vanished, hurled into space at such a speed as to defy all reason, leaving behind only a fading trail of light and the thunderous applause of everyone present.
Chapter 31
On the day following their arrival the crew lay sequestered in their rooms, suffering the tedium of boredom and tormented by the horrid stench that seemed to permeate the entire building. As usual, Taz was the first to begin urging the captain to allow them to go out exploring, despite the apparent dangers, but it didn’t take long for the Ape to chime in as well.
“I can keep him safe, boss,” he’d muttered, much to the captain’s annoyance.
“Did you two not walk through the same city as the rest of us yesterday?” Mitchell snapped at them.
“We’re soldiers, Captain,” Taz whined. “It’s not as if we haven’t seen worse, and it’s not like we’d be going out unarmed.”
Mitchell wasn’t about to give in so easily, but over the course of the morning more and more crewmembers joined their incessant whining, and by mid-afternoon he had eventually agreed to grant them permission to go out so long as they stayed within a hundred meters of the hotel unless otherwise instructed, travelling in groups of no less than three, with an armed member of the contact team accompanying them at all times for safety.
Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin) Page 21