Iron Gods

by Andrew Bannister

  Hefs was enjoying the view very much. Her name was Seldyan, apparently. She had gone travelling between studies; she and a group of friends had saved up to come on this trip. Four of her friends were with her at dinner. They were all young and attractive, and as far as he could see they were getting on with his exec team very well. One young man in particular was talking to his second in command, who seemed rapt. Hefs had sometimes wondered about the man’s sexuality.

  Close up, Seldyan’s skin was the rich colour of old hardwood and her eyes were tinted violet in a shocking contrast to her silver-white hair. She wore a strangely beautiful filigree thing in silver wire that twined around one ear. She was smart and sinuous and unaffected – all the things Hefs liked best – and she did seem to like him in return.

  And his current consort was light-years away, probably enjoying herself with someone younger. Well, she wasn’t the only one who could play. He called for more drinks and watched, entranced, as Seldyan popped another of the fat berries into her perfect mouth. The berry disappeared with just a flicker of tongue. The sleek throat rippled, and she smiled. ‘Mmm. Gorgeous. I’ve never had these before. What did you say they were called?’

  He shook himself mentally. ‘They’re Mist Berries. They grow on one of the planets of this star, actually. It’s an ocean world. The berries grow on sort of floating islands.’ Damn, she was easy to talk to. He went on, ‘We try to serve local food, wherever we are.’

  ‘How interesting.’ She leaned a little closer, and he caught a hint of a soft fragrance. ‘You must have visited hundreds of planets.’

  He gave what he hoped was a modest laugh. ‘Well, all of the Eleven, anyway. I’ve hardly been outside the Inside.’

  ‘Hardly?’ Her eyes widened. ‘But that doesn’t mean not at all. When did you go out?’

  The urge to impress her was – lunatic. What had come over him? Concentrate! He frowned and thought back. ‘I first crossed the Border, oh, fifteen years ago, I guess. In those days we traded more. I was a convoy escort.’

  ‘Wow.’ She raised her eyebrows – tinted silver to match her hair, he noticed. ‘Does that mean you were some kind of fighter pilot?’

  He laughed. ‘Some kind, I suppose. I never found anything to fight.’

  ‘Too modest. They probably saw you and ran away.’ She sat back, looking at him. ‘There’s more to you than meets the eye, Captain.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ But the thought warmed him all the same. Part of him, just a small part that he thought had fizzled and died years ago, whispered that perhaps he really had once been more than an overweight middle-aged shepherd to the wealthy.

  Seldyan was staring at him with those eyebrows raised, and he realized that he was grinning.

  ‘No, not like that! Look, let me show you.’ Seldyan took him by the shoulder and spun him half round. ‘Look, you start off going this way. See? With everyone else.’ She demonstrated and he tripped over his feet for the third time, dragging her down with him. The drink wasn’t helping, but he had to admit he probably wasn’t a natural dancer. Seldyan was, though, and so were most of her friends. They had wanted to show everyone how to do some ancient formal dance or other – a round dance, was that it? He couldn’t remember – so he had ordered the staff to clear the table platforms and bring them together to make a floating dancefloor.

  It had been a social success, if a stylistic failure. And now here he was, accidentally lying underneath Seldyan.

  She gave him a long look which started out amused and then became serious. Her eyes narrowed a little and she leaned down to let her lips brush his cheek. ‘You’re a shit dancer,’ she said, ‘but I’ve never believed that myth.’ She rolled off him, stood up and extended a hand. ‘Shall we?’

  Fifteen minutes later she was on top of him again. This time it was in his suite, and clothes weren’t involved, and it seemed so natural. He no longer felt he had to hold in his belly, he didn’t care about the greying hairs on his chest – even if his consort did, but where was she? Exactly! – he didn’t care about anything except the unbelievably beautiful creature who was poised above him, the warmth and scent of her body vivid to him, her hands on his wrists, pinning him deliciously, her thighs tight around his, her eyes dancing, her mouth …

  … laughing?

  She shouldn’t have been laughing. Not like that.

  He tried to sit up but his wrists really were pinned. She was stronger than she looked, and she was still laughing.

  Then she stopped laughing and he wished she hadn’t, because now her face looked … professional. She shifted her grip so that she had both his wrists pinned by one hand, and even then he couldn’t break her grip no matter how he struggled. With her other hand she did something to the filigree thing in her ear. Then she spoke, and Hefs knew immediately that she wasn’t speaking to him. ‘I got mine,’ she said. ‘Report?’

  There were three scratchy versions of ‘yes’, and then silence. Seldyan frowned. ‘Merish? Result or not?’

  There was a pause. Then a man’s voice said, ‘Sorry. Result, in the end.’

  Seldyan’s frown deepened. ‘Was there a problem?’

  ‘Yeah.’ The voice sighed. ‘Look, everyone said this bloke was gay?’

  ‘The second in command?’ Seldyan looked nonplussed. ‘Sure. So?’

  ‘No way. Bi-curious at best. I almost feel guilty.’

  ‘Oh.’ Seldyan’s face twitched. ‘Got things under control now?’

  ‘Yeah.’ The voice paused. ‘I think I owe him an apology.’

  Seldyan laughed softly. ‘Save your apologies,’ she said. ‘He’s probably grateful you broadened his horizons. Or whatever you broadened.’ She touched the silver thing and it seemed to break the contact. Then she looked down at Hefs. ‘I expect you get the idea,’ she said. ‘You’ve been taken over, at the cost of five cruise tickets and some booze you actually paid for. Any questions?’

  ‘Yes.’ He tried to sit up again but it was impossible. ‘Who are you?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m someone who could break your pelvis, if I squeeze hard enough. You want me to try?’

  ‘No!’ He shook his head as hard as he could.

  ‘Good. Any other questions?’

  He shook his head again.

  ‘Fine. I’m glad you aren’t going to try to be a hero. Your ship might end up fighting – that’s what it’s for. You?’ Her eyes scanned down his torso, over his belly and on to his softening penis, and she shook her head. ‘Not so much.’

  After that he was almost glad when she reached down to the junction of her thighs, pulled a tiny, bewitchingly moist stunner shaped like a flat pebble out of her body, and shot him.

  Traders’ Tower, Basin City

  THE IMAGE OF the dark-skinned silver-haired woman hung in the air. It was taken from above and in front of her, foreshortening her and cutting off the face and neck of the chubby middle-aged man she was astride, but her own face was still clear. She had a stunner in her hand which she seemed to be in the act of firing because there was a suggestion of a flash. She was naked and smiling but the smile looked more amused than happy. And, thought Harbour Master Hevalansa Vess, a little dangerous. He cleared his throat.

  ‘So, let me see. Five escapees from the Hive manage to buy cruise tickets costing a year’s salary each. They then seduce and disable every single one of the exec team of a liner worth, what? Madam Els?’ He looked at the elderly human female sitting opposite him. Even with them both seated it was obvious that she was far taller and thinner than him, and she wore a long close-fitting jacket in a dull carbon-coloured material that made her seem even more stretched.

  She gave a minute shrug. ‘It depends. Valuation yesterday, seventeen trillion, triple A risks. Valuation as of five minutes ago, zero and junk bond.’

  ‘Right.’ He sighed. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Seventeen hours ago.’

  ‘And you waited until now to tell us?’ Vess didn’t need to pretend to be irritated, but instead
of flinching Els gave him a frosty smile.

  ‘We waited until now to tell anyone except our bankers. Our corporation is leveraged with our fleet as collateral. A collapse of confidence was inevitable, but we managed to agree a soft landing. There were plenty of questions.’ She looked at him sharply. ‘Including, how did five slaves manage to escape and evade recovery long enough to have their identities wiped and to acquire long credit lines?’

  ‘We don’t refer to them as slaves.’ It was a fair question; one which Vess couldn’t answer until he had spoken to someone at a much higher pay grade – and if and when those people did speak to him he expected them to have other things on their minds. ‘Do you know where the ship went?’

  ‘No. It continued on course for ten minutes after the picture was sent. Then it stopped transponding and just vanished. We’re assuming it’s Outside by now.’

  Vess waved at the screen. ‘How did you get this, then?’

  To his pleasure Els looked embarrassed. ‘It seems that Hefs routinely had a micro-remote film his adventures. Gross misconduct, of course, although it’s done us a favour this time. If we ever find him he’ll be dismissed on the spot.’

  Vess fought the temptation to laugh. He was afraid that if he started he would carry on until he was dragged out of the building. ‘You think he’s alive?’

  ‘Oh yes. That’s a ship-issue stunner. It’s not meant to be used at such close range but even then it would take a long time to kill him with it. After a single shot like that he’d probably have woken up with a very bad headache.’ She smiled. ‘The ship followed the rules, even if its crew didn’t. When it realized it was compromised it squirted a complete status snapshot back to us. Hence, this.’ She gestured at the image.

  Vess nodded. ‘Are all your senior ship management sex maniacs then?’

  The frosty look was back. ‘No, but they’re not immune to drugs. The ship monitored air quality. The last few results show traces of complex organic substances in the air-handling plant that served the restaurant area.’

  Vess took a moment to process that. This is surreal, he thought. This woman has just announced what will probably be my death sentence, by talking about aphrodisiacs?

  He shook his head slowly. ‘The security breaches just go on piling up, don’t they? It’s just as well ship AIs don’t have sex.’

  Her face twisted a little as if she was trying not to smile. ‘I believe some of them do, in a way, but this one isn’t bright enough. It was meta-lobotomized five thousand years ago when the ship was decommissioned. It’s meant to be dumb and dutiful.’

  ‘Well, that’s fascinating.’ Vess stood up and walked over to the tall windows that lined one of the long walls of the room. Keeping his back turned he said, ‘Would it interest you, madam, to know that your ship is not alone? It’s one of five that have been lost over the last three cycles. Not all by the same means, but still.’

  He heard the intake of breath, but nothing more. He smiled to himself and added, ‘Apparently everybody waited until they had talked to their bankers. And their insurers, I suppose. Have they responded to you yet, by the way? The insurers?’

  He turned round. Els was looking stunned. He raised his eyebrows, and she shook her head slightly.

  ‘I’m not surprised. Five ships of the same sort of value? Eighty trillion total, or thereabouts?’ He sat back down. ‘They’re probably sitting under their desks rocking backwards and forwards with their fingers, or whatever they have, in whatever they use for ears … are you all right, madam?’

  She was very pale. He gestured to the servant, who placed a glass of water in front of her. It seemed to take a while for her to notice it. When she did, she clutched at it and took a hurried swig. ‘The other four ships,’ she said. ‘We hadn’t heard …’

  ‘That’s because we haven’t said.’ He shrugged. ‘Investigations will take their course. You should assume that you will be part of that course. As will I.’ Oh, yes. I so will.

  She nodded. ‘I should return to my Board. I’d like to tell them about the other ships. That is, if I may?’

  ‘Yes, but for their knowledge only. Oh, and I’ll want the passenger lists. This is going to stay unknown, you understand?’ He paused. ‘When was the ship due back?’

  She still looked shaken. ‘The day after tomorrow. We have four others on cruise at the moment …’

  ‘I know. We checked. They are smaller, aren’t they? Not legacy vessels?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then they are less valuable. Warn them, but keep them there. We’ll be covering them from a discreet distance.’ Vess managed a smile. ‘It’s just as well they’re little ones. If we lose any more major units we’ll be back to walking.’

  She rose and half turned towards the door. Then she turned back. ‘The slave said the ship might end up fighting,’ she said. It was a question.

  ‘Yes, she did, didn’t she?’ Vess stood up and waved the servant forward. ‘Escort Madam Els back to her skipper. A safe journey, madam.’

  He turned towards the windows. Behind him, he heard the door closing. When he was sure he was alone he blew out a long slow breath and leaned against the glass.

  Watching from a discreet distance? It had better be very discreet. If they got close enough to be spotted, people might realize how little they had left to watch with.

  He was dead. Sooner or later, by easier or harder means – dead. In her role as a cruise ship, Sunskimmer was important, and certainly the loss (albeit temporary) of the high-value people on board was embarrassing, but the cruise companies were only a small part of the total GDP of the Inside. That wasn’t the real issue.

  His chest felt tight. He shut his eyes and took a couple of slow breaths. A few minutes of calm before he launched himself. He could allow himself that.

  The Inside hadn’t constructed a new major ship in two thousand years. It had never constructed anything like what Sunskimmer had become. Never mind anything like what Sunskimmer had been in the first place – and could always have become again, at need. She and the rest of her kind had been an insurance policy; the last line of defence. They had been careful about that; no ship of that potential had ever been so completely converted to civilian use that it could not be un-converted. She retained a basic suite of weapons; there were more in a central store, and there was an emergency backup protocol. In theory they could have a fully armed battle fleet within two days of any emergency.

  But not any more.

  The truth was, they had been living on the glories of their predecessors for twenty generations. And now the last of those glories had been stolen from under his nose. And hence, he was dead.

  He opened his eyes again.

  No matter where you looked the first thing you saw was canal. His office was most of the way up the complex. Above it was only the restaurant deck, strictly reserved for staff of Praetor rank, and above, the Penthouse – even more exclusive – and then the steeply pointed roofs of the Belfry. None of which, of course, were visible to Vess, but below, well, that was different.

  Water had been the reason for the city. Water had been the cause of its foundation and the route by which wealth entered and left but, for the first five thousand years or so, mostly entered. It had started with simple flat canals, but it was a long way from its starting point now.

  There were three main levels. The highest was just below his eyeline so that his view glanced off the suspended canalized ribbons of water at a low angle. They stood off the next level on slim columns glistening with leaked or spilled water and streaked with green and black mould. That next level was in turn supported by a much older forest of stone, iron or even timber towers, festooned with hanging weed. At the roots of the forest, invisible from up here, were the grimy originals. Boat hoists, ranks of stepped locks and a couple of elaborate wheels with gondolas swinging from their rims moved things between levels.

  The three levels formed their own hierarchy. On top were the cruisers, racers and even houseboats of
the very wealthy. On the middle level were still the main commercial arteries, and down on the ground was what Vess had heard described as a vibrant mixed community, which meant poor people and criminals. Vess had been born there; he had never been back.

  Well, he had never been back yet. It might turn out to be one of his options, sooner rather than later. It, too, would mean death, but only in the way it meant death for everyone – premature, and poor, but still recognizably human.

  Every gap between the canals was full of buildings, mostly sinuous towers that snaked their way up between the waterways and poked more or less elaborate tops up into the sunshine. He never tired of the sight. He indulged himself with a few minutes of staring while a pair of big galleys rode in procession along the canal nearest to him, their oars leaving puckered scars on the water.

  And then of course there was the other level. He never thought of it as being part of the three, and nor did anyone else he knew. The Cloud Deck was a discontinuous snaking structure that floated slowly backwards and forwards over everything else on intricately pivoted parallel-motion arms mounted on upward extensions of the main canal columns. The motion allowed it to be located anywhere over Basin City except for Traders’ Tower. Vess wasn’t sure how it all worked, but he had heard that the arms would seize up, or bend, or at any rate fail in some catastrophic way if anyone tried to force the Cloud Deck there. Geometry, and politics, apparently. Obviously no one had ever tried because the Cloud Deck, although newer than the rest of the city, wasn’t that much newer – it had survived several thousand years un-broken.