‘What is this?’ she asked.
‘Underground water tank, I think,’ he said. ‘All the houses had them in my hometown as well. They pipe the catoplasma into the ground and blow it out so it forms a bubble. It sets hard, and then they siphon rainwater in.’
‘They safe?’
‘I’ve never been inside one before.’ He thought about it for a moment; remembered his father making him wait a distance from the house when theirs had been installed. ‘I suppose so. The problem is the displacement. When they expand the catoplasma they run other pipes to suck the soil out. Usually the catoplasma moulds to the terrain. But sometimes there’s a fault or a subsidence, and the whole thing shifts. I’ve heard of them cracking under significant uneven pressure.’
‘Significant pressure, eh? Let’s hope we don’t get none of that.’
‘What do we do now?’
Fariss reached for him and pulled him against her. ‘Wait, I’d say. At least for a while.’
He moved closer and relaxed against her hard body. She smelled sweaty and stale, and wonderful.
Her hands slipped inside his robe, stroking his skin. He lay passively in her arms. Fear and exhaustion and claustrophobia seeped away.
BALBAO
They were taken to a cabin high in the ship’s structure. Despite the residual head and body ache from imperfect shift, Balbao took in as much of the surroundings as he could. This was a battleship, fully serviceable and worn from recent business, not something dragged from retirement because of the invasion. He noticed little signs—the well-lubed hatches and the working shelf locks.
Because of his observations, he had less of a surprise than the tyros when the captain turned out to be Lasper Farr, Commander of the Stain Wars.
Not all the tyros. He amended that thought. Ra of Lostol showed little reaction, and Labile Connit looked unhappy rather than shocked.
Lasper Farr, like all infamous ‘esques, was less impressive in person than in myth. Balbao took in the lean, almost gaunt figure. Though he looked unimposing, something about him made Balbao entirely uncomfortable. It would be wrong, he thought, to underestimate him.
Farr looked along the line of them and offered Miranda a seat. His greeting cabin was sparse and functional: a table and attached seats. He did not ask the rest of them to sit.
‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘Dieter Seeward and Lawmon Jise. But who are you?’
Balbao shifted under the penetrating gaze. ‘Belle- Monde’s Chief Astronomien. Balbao.’
‘Ahh, of course. So pleased you didn’t disintegrate with your world, Balbao. Would be a shame to lose such an excellent scientist.’
The Balol didn’t believe for a moment that he meant what he said. Commander Farr, he’d already decided, cared little for strangers.
But Balbao would not be intimidated. ‘This is Ra of Lostol and Labile—’
‘Connit,’ finished Farr quietly. ‘I know my own son, Chief Balbao. And Ra and I... have worked together on projects before.’
Many glances were exchanged in the shocked silence that followed his statement—two revelations that almost made Balbao wish that he’d perished on Belle-Monde. Had he been harbouring a member of Consilience? What mischief had Labile wrought? And Ra? Why had he been conspiring with Farr? His thoughts swirled in a way that made it difficult to extract answers.
Ra spoke first. ‘Where is the device, Lasper? We must locate Sole.’
Farr’s face grew pinched with irritation. ‘No thank you, Ra? No heartfelt gratitude for the risk taken by me and my ship to keep you alive?’
Ra stared at him steadily, his multicoloured insect eyes shining in the cabin light. ‘It was not me you came to save, Lasper. It was your son.’
‘Don’t underestimate your value to me,’ replied Farr, letting his lips curl into a small unreadable smile.
Ra relaxed a little.
Labile Connit, on the other hand, looked as Balbao felt: sick and tense, but not about to be trodden on. ‘You are not my father,’ he insisted.
Farr regarded him steadily. ‘You may not like it, Labile, but it’s the truth.’
‘Good Sole!’ exclaimed Miranda. ‘What a pretty state of affairs. I’m sure there is much to be caught up on, but firstly... thank you, Commander Farr. Can you tell us, are we quite safe now? Where are we?’
Her brash interruption diverted Farr’s attention.
‘We managed to evade the Post-Species by using imperfect shift. We have taken casualties because of it. Not all the buffers withstood the untested vibration.’
‘A bold but necessary move, Commander,’ said Ra.
Farr was unimpressed by Ra’s declaration. ‘Our only choice. The Post-Species have obliterated the systems they have reached. Those who heeded the alarms have closed their spheres. But I must thank you, Dieter Seeward. The virus you created was quite a success on Scolar, I believe. And because of that, their shift sphere is still open. We are on our way there now.’
Every exposed piece of Miranda’s flesh turned pink. ‘We are going to Scolar?’
All heads turned to her.
‘Miranda?’ said Jise. ‘What does the Commander mean?’
Grim satisfaction settled on Lasper Farr’s face. What did he know about Miranda Seeward, Balbao wondered, that even her colleague and lover Lawmon Jise did not?
‘I would give you time to discuss your issues privately.’ Farr nodded at the guards.
They moved forward to escort Jise, Seeward, Ra and Balbao out of the room, leaving Connit.
Connit baulked, not wanting to be left with his father.
Ra, on the other hand, had no wish to leave the Commander’s presence, and jerked from their grasp. ‘Where is the device, Lasper?’
Farr’s lips pinched tight. ‘It’s gone. But you will make another for me soon.’
‘Gone? But I’d need equipment, and—’
Two simple arm movements from Farr decreed they all leave his presence, and Ra was unable to finish.
Balbao marched between the guards, grateful to be away from Farr, but his relief faded quickly when he saw where they were to be left.
‘We are not criminals,’ said Lawmon Jise to the guards. ‘We are refugees whom your Commander chose to take aboard. How dare you treat us like this?’ The tyro was so outraged that he let go of Miranda’s arm to push the guard.
A cuff from the soldier sent him sprawling into the containment cell. The rest of the refugees entered in shocked quiet, at gunpoint. Even Miranda was silent as she hurried over to Jise.
The containment field engaged, and they found themselves in a sparse space furnished with narrow fold-down bunks and a fold-down module that served as both washroom and san. There was no privacy, and the cell was already inhabited.
Two of the oldest ‘esques Balbao had ever seen sat together on a single bunk. One, a woman with an impossibly lined face and an oddly toned physique, stared openly at them. The other, a man almost as aged, gazed after the guards.
The woman got up and came over, hand outstretched. ‘Call me Samuelle. This is Jeremiah Hob. Whatever you’ve all done to piss Lasper off, I’m real grateful.’
Balbao and the others stared at her.
‘See, he’s plannin’ to kill us. Then he had to go off dodging Extros to catch up with you all. We’re bettin’ he’s had too much else on his mind to think about us,’ she explained.
The male ‘esque, Hob, slid off his bunk and began unfolding the others. ‘Too much tellin’, Sammy. Let ‘em catch their breath.’
He hobbled over to Jise and offered him a hand. ‘Let’s get you up on a bed.’
OLOSS’s most vaunted lawmon accepted the gnarled hand, and was helped to a bunk. ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Jise in a shaky voice. ‘Please excuse our disarray; we’ve had rather a rough time of it.’
‘When you’re ready,’ said Hob, ‘we’d like to hear about it, and about what’s happening out there. Could be our stories might interest you too. Could be we can help each other.’
> Balbao was taken with the old fellow’s dignified manner, as, he could tell, was Jise.
‘Take a bunk,’ Balbao suggested to the others.
Everyone did so, except Ra, who paced the length of the containment. The old woman, Sammy, watched him, clearly fascinated by the Godhead’s strange appearance.
‘Where in the name of Crux did you get those eyes? Thought I’d seen everythin’, but I ain’t seen nothing like them,’ she said.
Her comment was straightforward, bordering on simple, but Balbao didn’t think that was a reflection of her mind. Her sharp eyes were busy assessing everything. What in Sole’s name, he wondered, could this ancient and seemingly harmless couple have done to enrage Lasper Farr?
He leaned back against the wall and lifted his legs onto the bunk. As if on cue, a dreadful fatigue washed over him. ‘Is there anything to drink?’
Hob got up and went to the washing module. He pressed a panel, and a tube filled with water slid out of a slot. He twisted the tube from the dispenser and tossed it to Balbao. ‘Don’t take too long to drink it. The tube dissolves after a while so it can’t be used for anythin’. Anyone else?’
Everyone except Ra murmured their assent. Hob busied himself doling the water out while Balbao drank his. It tasted faintly musty, as though the recycler need recalibrating. By the time he’d finished it, some of his distress had faded.
He got off his bunk and dispensed another. Settling back to drink it, he began to talk. Jise and Miranda still seemed to be too upset, and Labile Connit looked as if he might be in shock. Ra appeared angry above all.
‘Commander Farr rescued us from our lifeship in the Mintaka system. We are now, so we are told, on our way to Scolar.’
‘Scolar? Why there?’ asked old Sammy.
‘We went through imperfect shift, didn’t we?’ said Hob.
‘Yes. Imperfect shift. I believe that biozoons use it, but I’ve never heard of an OLOSS ship managing it.’
‘This ain’t no OLOSS ship,’ said Hob.
Balbao nodded. ‘Indeed. As for why we are going to Scolar...’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s the only place left with the shift sphere still functioning.’
‘What?’ they both cried.
‘The Extros invaded Mintaka, destroyed our research station and an entire planet.’
‘A planet?’ Hob and Sammy stared at each other, faces crinkled with incredulity.
‘Balbao speaks truthfully,’ whispered Jise. ‘We are only alive because Lasper Farr came looking for his son.’ He turned a bewildered stare on Labile Connit. ‘Labile?’
‘I’m not his son,’ Connit insisted from where he huddled on his bed.
The eyes upon him were unconvinced.
Balbao thought he had a lean likeness to Farr, though his colouring was darker, his eyes brown, not grey. It was possible the shape of his face resembled the Commander’s, but that could have been his imagination.
‘This is not a time for lies, Labile,’ said Ra.
The geneer straightened and glared back at them. ‘Then I shouldn’t be the only one to tell. We all have secrets. Especially you, Ra. How do you know Lasper? What have you done? What was the device you asked about? Have you been working with him?’
Ra stepped closer, his paper-thin skin pale and taut.
Balbao noticed the slight peeling around his hairline. He had little enough hair to hide it.
‘Are you accusing me of something, Connit?’
‘All I know is that any collusion with Lasper Farr would be suspicious.’ Without warning, Connit leapt at Ra, his hands grasping the Lostolian’s throat. ‘What is it? What did you build for my father?’
Balbao and Hob both intervened. Hob knocked Connit back with a well-placed punch. The old fellow had been around, thought Balbao as he pulled Ra away.
‘Enough,’ he bellowed with full Balol ferocity. ‘If any violence is to occur, it will be from me.’ For the first time since any of them had known him, he bared his warrior’s teeth. For good measure he let loose a growl.
Neither Sammy nor Hob batted an eyelid, but Miranda shrieked and clung tighter to Jise.
‘What is happening to us?’ she wailed.
‘Miranda!’ Balbao growled again.
She curtailed her wail to a whimper.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘it is time we talked. All of us. And quickly. It may be the only—the last—chance we get. Labile?’
The geneer scowled at Ra as he spoke. ‘He is my biological father. But he didn’t raise me or have anything to do with me. I don’t acknowledge him.’
‘Have you met him before?’ asked Balbao,
Connit closed his eyes and nodded. ‘Once. He came to visit my mother when I was younger. To look me over, no doubt. He didn’t like what he found, and we never saw him again. Though he did help my mother to pay the studium costs.’
‘So it’s thanks to him you’re a geneer?’ said Ra. ‘That’s hardly uninvolved.’
‘The important thing from our perspective is that you aren’t one of his people,’ said Balbao.
Jise nodded agreement.
‘You mean, was I his spy on Belle-Monde? No. And I take offence at anyone who would suggest it,’ Connit said hotly.
Ra made a disparaging noise and turned away.
Sole’s favoured Godhead was beginning to annoy Balbao beyond comfortable tolerance. ‘Ra?’
‘What of you two?’ Ra asked the cell’s original occupants. ‘Who are you? Other than old.’
Sammy opened her mouth to retort but Hob put a calming hand on her arm. ‘You heard of Consilience?’
‘Are you members?’ asked Miranda.
Hob smiled, somewhat proudly, thought Balbao. ‘Sammy’s one of the leaders.’
Ra froze.
‘And I,’ continued Hob, ‘was Commander Farr’s pilot during the war. And more recently. Until I happened to let Tekkie sneak off with some real important device that belonged to the Commander.’
‘Tekkie?’ shrilled Miranda.
‘Device?’ chimed in Ra.
Hob grinned at them. ‘Yeah, Tekkie. Tekton. He pinched the Commander’s future-readin’ machine.’
JO-JO RASTEROVICH
Jo-Jo set the coordinates for the first of the most likely islands. Randall had taken control of the AiV, and he sat next to her, watching intently in case he needed to fly it. Catchut lay across the back seats, exhausted from the climb to the villa.
They’d encountered no Saqr on the way, which made Jo-Jo uneasy.
‘Where are they all?’ he’d whispered to Randall as they entered the abandoned villa from a basement door.
Randall didn’t reply till they reached the catoplasma landing pad on the top of the building. Then she tilted her head to the sky. ‘You noticed anything up there?’
Jo-Jo took a moment to catch his breath and take in the glittering vista. Neither of the moons was up yet, and the sky was studded with the lights of alien craft. Less of them, though, than there had been.
‘They’re leaving,’ said Jo-Jo.
‘Yeah,’ said Randall. ‘Seems so. Gotta real bad feeling about this.’
Jo-Jo had to agree. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
The AiV lifted into the air without incident. Randall kept the landing lights off, concentrating on the flight panel, watching the altitude and infrared sensors.
Jo-Jo stared out into the darkness, wondering what stretched below them, besides the desert. What a Crux-forsaken world to have been born into. He felt a pang of sympathy for Mira Fedor. Dust and repression had been her life while his had been so free.
‘You plannin’ your funeral?’ said Randall.
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Shoulda passed the Extro ship by now. Can’t see nothin’ down there, though. Unless it’s sunk into the sand.’
Randall checked her map. ‘You’re right. No sign. Wonder when that moved?’
Jo-Jo glanced out at the sky. ‘Mebbe it’s got something to do with things shifting around up there.’ He kept staring until hi
s attention was caught by something lower on the horizon.
‘Looks like a fire,’ he said eventually.
As they drew closer, the glow cast a dim light and moving shadows across sand dunes. ‘That a town?’
‘Was Loisa,’ said Randall, consulting the flyer’s map again. ‘Fedor’s hometown. She had a villa there with her sister. Thought it’d be all burned out by now, But this damn atmosphere’s lethal. Keeps stuff smoulderin’ for ever.’
Jo-Jo felt Mira’s presence keenly again, as though she was in the cabin with them. He clenched his fists.
‘Funeral again?’ asked Randall.
‘How far, Capo?’ asked Catchut from the back seat.
‘Day and a night, mebbe. Depending on whether we luck upon them. That’s all the fuel we got, anyway.’
‘Maybe we can pick up some extra fuel cells on the way.’
She nodded. ‘If we see anything. If it’s safe to put down.’
They fell silent again, Catchut dozing while Jo-Jo scoured the murky landscape for wreckage or landmarks. Randall set the AiV on auto and sat almost motionless.
Maybe Jo-Jo slept for a while. He must have, because Randall’s nudge to his shoulder and curt ‘Crux!’ jerked him to awareness.
He rolled his tongue over his teeth. They felt coated with neglect. He blinked a few times and stared out into the dark—by now, the not so dark. Far off to Randall’s side of the AiV was a fiery glare: not the orange glow of fire but the stark white of electricity.
‘Whassat?’ he slurred sleepily.
Randall checked her settings and fingered the location map to take them closer. They executed a wide sweep of the area, keeping their distance from the light.
‘Saqr there. Plenty of them, by looks,’ said Catchut. ‘But what’re they doing?’
Jo-Jo strained already tired eyes across Randall’s shoulder. ‘Looks like they’re all over the Extro ship.’
‘Well, least we know where it went,’ said Randall.
‘And where they went. Where are we?’
‘AiV’s map says it’s a mine called Juanita, between the Pablo tunnels.’
Transformation Space (Sentients of Orion Book 4) Page 18