Creation Machine

Home > Science > Creation Machine > Page 16
Creation Machine Page 16

by Andrew Bannister


  The old power plant was near the edge of a cliff. Molten rock welled up from it and spread out into a broad delta which flowed over the edge like an infinitely slow waterfall. At the bottom it spread into a pool which ate its way into the base of the cliff and rejoined the gently convecting megatonnes of lava on their way past the power plant and back up to the delta.

  The result was Fusion Field, almost certainly the only accidental, artificial, circular lava flow in the galaxy. The whole circuit was about fifty kilometres long, and performed one complete rotation in just over a hundred years.

  The Ground Engine moved smoothly over the crusted surface of the lava. Apart from the booming cooling system that had stuttered into life less than a minute after they had dropped off the cliff, it was quieter than before. As long as Fleare didn’t go too near the airlock, it was almost comfortable. The airlock itself was unapproachable, and just inside it a curtain of mist had formed where the scalding air outside met the chilled air within. Fleare squinted through the mist. Her eyes didn’t seem to want to ramp up, but she didn’t need them to. The other Ground Engine had followed them over the cliff, and it was close enough to see with normal vision now.

  She turned to the others. ‘I think we’re going to have company.’

  ‘Yes.’ It was Muz. ‘More than one sort. Airborne incoming.’

  Jezerey stood up. ‘The seven you saw?’

  ‘Them, plus something else. Much bigger; could be almost commercial scale.’ Muz coalesced back into a single cloud. ‘Kelk, what are the options?’

  ‘Not many.’ Kelk took hold of the controls. ‘Going to manual. I might be able to do some evading.’

  Fleare glanced back through the airlock, and stiffened. The chasing Ground Engine had accelerated; it was catching them quickly. ‘Better get frisky,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Company’s arriving very soon.’

  Something pinged. Kelk looked down at the console. ‘Not soon – now,’ he said. ‘Tight beam, ’crypted.’ He waved at the controls. There was a brief connection hiss, and then a voice.

  ‘Calling Ground Engine Type 2. Acknowledge.’

  Kelk glanced at the others. ‘Acknowledged,’ he said. ‘Who are you and what’s your message?’

  ‘We’re the guys following you. Well, first, don’t stop.’

  Fleare felt her eyebrows climbing. Kelk grinned. ‘Thanks for the advice,’ he said. ‘We weren’t going to.’

  ‘Good.’ The other voice sounded amused. ‘Because if you do, your tracks will melt. They look real hot already.’

  Kelk nodded. ‘I knew that. Anything else?’

  ‘Yes. You’ve got incoming airborne threat, imminent. We ran a sim. Better than ninety per cent they’re going to take you out before you get off the Field.’

  Kelk looked around at the others and nodded slightly. Fleare got up and walked over to the comms. ‘So, that doesn’t give us long to get to know each other,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Oh, just some guys with some guns on the roof. Take a look.’

  Fleare moved as close to the airlock as she dared. She didn’t have to stay there long; even in the space of their short conversation, the other Ground Engine had halved the distance between them. She pulled back from the furnace air and nodded at the others.

  ‘Okay.’ Kelk sounded wary. ‘But you aren’t shooting. So what’s the deal?’

  ‘Well, we’ll start shooting when your airborne friends turn up.’ The voice paused, and added, ‘On terms, of course.’

  ‘What terms?’

  Now the voice was brisk. ‘Precedent protection contract. One million standard, payable immediately.’

  Kelk’s mouth dropped open. Jezerey marched over and took the comms. ‘You have to be kidding. Half a mil, payable on results.’

  ‘You are in no position to play hard ball.’ The voice sighed. ‘Three-quarters, fifty per cent up front. Make your minds up. It looks like the guys in the sky just powered up their weapon systems.’

  ‘You came all this way. You need a deal as badly as we do. We can’t pay if we’re dead. Nothing up front; the whole fee in escrow.’

  There was a pause. Then the voice said, ‘Deal. We’re sending account details.’

  The console pinged. Jezerey looked down and nodded. ‘Got them.’ Then she stared. ‘Ways and Means and Co? That’s you?’

  ‘Sure. Why?’

  ‘Shit!’ Jezerey thumped the console softly. ‘I saw you on social. You bid on the contract to get us!’

  ‘Yeah. That’s how we make money, you see? But In Recovery bought that one, so we’ll have this one and stiff them back. Listen, if you don’t send the cash there’ll be nothing left to save.’

  Jezerey brushed a control. ‘Okay, sent.’ She shook her head. ‘So shoot, you fuckers!’

  ‘Fuckers yourself.’ The comms fell silent.

  Fleare looked at Jezerey. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Um, do I owe you a lot of money?’

  Jezerey shook her head and pointed at Kelk. ‘No. He does. If they deliver, that is.’

  There was a moment’s silence. Then, almost too quickly for the eye to follow, Muz flicked over to the airlock, hovered for the briefest moment and shot back to float above the console. ‘Something’s kicking off,’ he said. ‘The Ways and Means guys just powered up some major stuff. Or someone did. Can’t tell quite what, but it isn’t the little tubes you can see on their roof.’

  They looked at each other. Fleare reached for a grab rail and closed her fingers around it.

  The interior of the Ground Engine lit up like a nova. She tightened her grip.

  The concussion felt like a wrecking ball to the chest. There was an indefinite moment of howling nothing. Then she found she could take a breath. She looked around.

  Kelk and Jezerey were crouched low in their seats, arms over their heads. Muz had retreated into a hard, mirrored ball the size of a fist. It looked defensive; she had a sudden mental picture of the real, human Muz, curled into the foetal position.

  Her ears hurt. She shook her head carefully, and heard faint popping sounds followed by the grinding hum of the Ground Engine. Something was still working. She took another breath, and used it. ‘What happened?’

  Muz expanded into his normal cloud. ‘Unknown for the moment.’ He paused. ‘That was a very, very big energy discharge. I’ll try to find some un-flambéed sensors. Kelk, anything on comms?’

  Kelk was fiddling with the controls. ‘Nothing. But we’re still going. We’ll be off the Field in five minutes.’

  Fleare’s whole body ached. She hauled herself to her feet and headed for the airlock, grabbing at things for support as her legs wobbled. The curtain of mist was still there. She steadied herself just inside it, and looked out.

  At first she thought that the lava plain behind them was empty, and as uniform as before. Then she realized that there was something different about it. She forced her screaming eye muscles to contract, and the scene swam into something close to focus.

  About half a klick behind them, and receding quickly, there was a wide, bright, shallow mound on the surface of the lava. Even as she watched it sagged and spread, becoming a fading orange-yellow smear in the centre of a network of angry red fissures. Without looking round, she said quietly, ‘I think they’re all gone.’

  It was Muz who answered. ‘I think you’re right. I found some footage. There must have been more sensors working than I thought. Take a look.’

  She turned to see a cloudy holo fuzz into being between her and the others, not quite dense enough to stop her seeing their faces through it. It showed the lava field, with the pursuing Ground Engine in the centre of the image. The image was frozen, and there was a cloud of smaller dots and one bigger one in the top right-hand corner.

  ‘That was just after they called us fuckers. Now running at actual speed.’ As Muz spoke the images flicked into life and suddenly the Ground Engine was obviously moving fast, its glowing tracks throwing up clouds of hot cinders that faded from a sullen crimson
as they fell. As they watched the pursuing dots grew quickly, and resolved into a rosette of six compact, lumpy-looking units circling a much bigger version of themselves.

  Muz paused the screen. ‘Recognize those?’

  Fleare frowned. It seemed difficult to concentrate. ‘I’ve seen pictures . . . the little ones are slaved to the one in the middle, right?’

  ‘That’s right. Called a Node-Distributed Battle Entity. Completely unmanned.’

  Jez frowned at the holo. ‘Aren’t those illegal? As well as very expensive?’

  Muz wobbled from side to side. ‘Well, illegal’s a bit moot out here. We’re outside Catastrophe, remember, and even that’s still sort of outside the Heg’. But yes, they are very expensive. And very hard to stop.’ He paused. ‘Shall we go on? Now at one-tenth real time.’

  The images were set in motion again. The sinister rosette was above the Ground Engine now, with the six small units beginning to move away from the centre and form a flattened delta, its sharp end pointing at the viewpoint.

  A tight, faint shaft of green light appeared, connecting the central unit to the Ground Engine below. There was a tiny pause, then the rosette blossomed into cerise balls of flame. A fraction of a second later, so did the Ground Engine.

  The holo fuzzed and collapsed. Kelk shook his head. ‘What happened?’

  Muz wobbled again. ‘At a guess, and this really is only a guess, that was a self-destruct sequence. That green light looked like a wide-spectrum comms beam. Could be that something on the Ground Engine hacked the Battle Entity. If so, I’d love to know how.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Fleare made to turn round.

  The spasm was as sudden as it was vicious. It felt as if every muscle in her body was trying to tear itself free. Her sight blacked out, and she collapsed with the sound of her own short scream stabbing at her ears.

  There was a rustle by her. She felt hands on her, and heard Jez’s voice. ‘Fleare? Fleare! What happened? Can you talk?’

  The pain was fading, and her sight was coming back. She nodded, very carefully. ‘Yeah,’ she said, and it came out in a ragged whisper.

  ‘Whoa.’ Jez sat back on her heels. ‘What the fuck was that about?’

  ‘Don’t know.’ Fleare reached out a hand and felt around until she found a bulkhead. She pulled herself along to it and raised herself to a lopsided sitting position. ‘Muscles. Been feeling achy, but not like that. Shit.’ She realized she was panting, and stopped speaking.

  Muz swam into her vision. ‘How long have you been feeling achy?’

  ‘Not sure.’ She concentrated. Even that seemed to hurt. ‘Maybe half an hour?’

  ‘Hm.’ Muz hovered for a moment. ‘Tell us if it happens again, okay?’

  Fleare looked at him. ‘If it happens again, you’ll know.’

  ‘Yeah. Sorry.’ Muz floated closer and brushed gently against her cheek. Then he climbed to head height. ‘Well, we should clear the Field any minute. Once we’re in the Tail End, we’ll get you looked at.’

  There was a short pause. Then Kelk said slowly, ‘About the Tail End? I don’t want to worry anyone, but Ways and Means and Co just returned one seventh of our money.’ He reached for the comms, but it powered up before his hand got there. ‘Calling Ground Engine. Ways and Means here. You guys okay?’

  Kelk raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, kind of. I take it you weren’t in that vehicle, then?’

  The voice laughed. ‘No way. It was on remote. You might be crazy enough to track across Fusion Field, but we aren’t.’

  ‘You returned some money.’ Kelk paused. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we didn’t finish the job.’ Now the voice was serious. ‘We missed one of the fuckers.’

  Jez interrupted. ‘Weren’t they all slaved together?’

  ‘Apparently not. Probably a fail-safe; the rest blow up but one gets left behind to sneak around the back.’

  ‘You got anything else in the area?’

  ‘No, again. Sorry. Best of luck.’

  The comms fell silent. So did everyone else, for a moment. Then Kelk said simply, ‘Muz?’

  The cloud dipped. ‘Checking.’ There was another pause. Then, ‘Yep. Dead overhead, ten klicks up. Dropping fast. ETA about twenty seconds.’

  Kelk sighed. ‘Any good ideas?’

  ‘Just one very bad one.’ Muz was already by the airlock. ‘See you.’

  Fleare caught her breath. ‘No, wait,’ she began, but the cloud had already shrunk to a small, dull black sphere which flickered through the airlock and disappeared, leaving a little boiling vortex in the curtain of mist. It healed as she watched.

  Kelk wheeled back to the controls. ‘No change,’ he said flatly. ‘Contact in ten.’ He was about to say something else when there was a sharp, explosive crack. Orange light flashed outside, lighting up the mist curtain like a stage effect. The Ground Engine shook, lurched sideways, and then ploughed on over the lava field as if nothing had happened.

  For a few seconds nobody spoke. Then Jez looked round. ‘Is that it?’

  Kelk studied the console. ‘There’s nothing out there. So yes, maybe that really is it.’

  Jez frowned. ‘What about Muz?’

  ‘I can’t see anything.’ He looked up from the console. ‘Oh shit. Fle, listen, I—’

  She waved him silent. ‘Don’t. He knew,’ she corrected herself, ‘knows what he’s doing.’

  Somehow, on the way back from the wave, her hand brushed the place on her cheek where Muz had touched her. She had expected to find it wet. It wasn’t. I’m getting tougher, she told herself. I wonder what he’ll come back as this time?

  Then the pain came again, building through her body and shaking her in its teeth until she became one single, unending scream. Then everything faded.

  She woke, pain-free but limp with exhaustion, as they were boarded by two unsmiling officials of the Tail End Port Authority who welcomed them to the Tail End, asked to see their proof of ownership of the Ground Engine and, when they could offer none, politely arrested them for theft and vagrancy.

  She drifted off again, to the sound of Jez shouting at the officials.

  Yeveg Island, Taussich

  IT LOOKED LIKE an ancient natural harbour. A blue sea lapped against the wide mortared stone crescent of the harbour wall, rocking the oiled bark hulls of a row of fishing boats. Above the wall, terraces climbed up and back towards the frond-wood-covered heights behind. The evening air smelled of salt and cooking fires and seared meats.

  In fact it was nothing of the sort. Taussich had very little free surface water and none of it was allowed to collect into anything as wasteful as a sea, certainly not by accident. This was an artificial island in an artificial body of water. The harbour was real, in a way; it had been a major heritage site on one of the first planets the Fortunate had conquered, and the Patriarch’s predecessor had ordered it to be removed, stone by stone, and re-erected complete with the original boats. The operation had displaced the original inhabitants, of course, but there were only a few thousand of them, so that was practically a bargain.

  Garamende’s estate occupied the highest terrace. Alameche had been there before, but not for several years. It had been extended since he last saw it. Considerably. He pointed at the fish ponds, which were many tens of metres above natural sea level. ‘How often do you have to restock these?’

  ‘It depends.’ Garamende squinted at the water. ‘Some of the big eels will outlive all of us. Fifty, a hundred years. That one, there – I think she’s almost a hundred and fifty. Others, like – wait a moment. Ah, yes. Those!’ He pointed. ‘The little blue spidery things. See?’

  Alameche nodded.

  ‘Well, those are prey for the green ones with lots of claws. And they are prey for those long thin fish with extra fins. And those are what the eels eat, mostly.’

  ‘I see.’ Alameche looked at the ponds, and then at the flight of wooden stairs that led up to them. He couldn’t see any other way of getting there. ‘So every day you have to b
ring how much up here?’

  Garamende scratched his head. ‘Well, in terms of biomass, maybe fifty kilos. But with the added water, about five tonnes, I suppose. Keeps the staff fit.’

  ‘I expect so.’ Alameche looked along the row of ponds. ‘Are they all the same?’

  The big man nodded. ‘All except the last one.’ He pointed towards the end of the terrace. ‘I’ll show you that one later, if you like. Care for a drink?’

  The terrace was decked with dark, slightly rough timber. Halfway along, a slim walkway extended outwards at right angles. There were no guard rails, and Alameche walked carefully, his eyes straight ahead. After fifty paces over nothing it broadened into a round platform just big enough for a couple of couches and a low table.

  Garamende dropped on to one of the couches, and gestured at the other. ‘Have a seat, old friend.’ He studied Alameche’s face. ‘You look terrified.’

  Alameche smiled. In the back of his mind was the thought that he didn’t need to play this game. He could probably have Garamende executed within twenty-four hours on any one of a thousand pretexts. The man was wealthy and socially influential but he was not part of the Cabinet circle, and he made enemies as readily as friends.

  Probably wasn’t good enough. He sat down. There were drinks on the table, but he ignored them. ‘What’s on your mind?’ he said. He paused, and added, ‘Old friend?’

  The big man grinned, picked up a goblet, and drained it. ‘Rumours,’ he said. ‘Before I go on, let me assure you that as far as I am aware we are alone. Can you give me the same assurance?’

  Alameche shrugged. ‘As far as I am aware, yes,’ he said. ‘Does it matter? Were you planning to say anything compromising?’

  Garamende laughed softly. ‘Every time I open my mouth, you know that.’ He put down the empty goblet. ‘But even so, I have to ask. You see,’ and he leaned forward, ‘one of the rumours is that you might have a little pet.’

  ‘Really? What sort?’ Alameche kept his voice level.

  ‘The sort that floats around listening to people.’ Garamende was watching him steadily.

 

‹ Prev