Deep Yellow

by Stuart Dodds

  One day, the captain, being bored with space docking and all the tales of the alien worlds, transported down to check on security issues after giving stern warnings to the rest of his crew to stay put. Williams laughed as he remembered pulling the captain out of a renowned nightclub they had visited together. Williams had smoothed it all over with the club staff by giving out some paper money. He had got the captain back to his hotel suite, sobered him up, changed his clothes, and then got him transported back on board the ship. “Once Deep Space Corps, always Deep Space Corps.”

  Williams could not resist transporting up some artefacts, well quite a few actually, which he intended to put into the holo scenes. He always left a large pile of paper money behind.

  During their final two weeks, he invited Soohan to go on a holiday on her own, as she had mentioned reading about some ancient historical sites. She went off on her own adventures, and so did Williams.

  Coming back to the present, he felt around his backside. The tattoo had healed well. Could not resist it. How about that for a keepsake from an alien planet?

  What a planet, small but incredibly mixed in terms of culture, language, health, and technology. Though ripe for First Contact in a quite a few years yet, it was the raw, chaotic nature that he enjoyed. There was no reliance upon implants and virtual technology, etc. In amongst the disarray, and as basic as the place was, people just got on with it. He knew of many Elytians who lived their whole lives in virtual holo worlds. Puffing on his smoke, he savoured the taste, then blew the smoke out across the room.

  Soohan was a wonderful source of knowledge, calm and respected. Despite the serious outer personality, Williams saw a softer side who liked a little intox every now and again. It was refreshing rubbing shoulders with an academic rather than the vacuous airheads in the beamcasting business. A little older than him, Williams knew that her holiday had been fruitful, judging by the amount of time she spent logging her findings.

  “Similarities,” she kept saying.

  His last memory of her was when she was sitting in her cabin, hunched over a desk with three displays screens on the go. With a furrowed brow, she dictated instructions and commands whilst tapping at a keyboard.

  He took her death badly. Selfishly, he thought how she could have been the show’s “expert” sharing her experiences of Inhab-47 and explaining about the inhabitants’ culture and life.

  She had accompanied her husband to a far-flung planet, revisiting a community that had shunned First Contact. The Elders had turned their back on all the health and technological benefits. News channels suggested there were disagreements between the young and old. It was likely that the Elders felt threatened by outside influence, whereas the younger members of the population wanted to embrace change. Soohan and her husband were part of a team sent back to discuss the Elders decision. Their skiff had crashed whilst flying across rocky terrain on the way to a key meeting. There had apparently been an engine malfunction. An investigation revealed no evidence of tampering but conspiracy theories remained.

  He was saddened just thinking about it. She was a bit like the older sister that he never had.

  Chapter 9 - The Twins

  “Soward Tslus, um, sorry … Williams, we will land in thirty minutes,” Williams’s virtual assistant said.

  Since returning from Inhab-47, Soward had assumed the name of Williams for promotional purposes. It added an “alienness” for the audience, as well. He had changed his assistant’s appearance to a tall, white-skinned male with wavy black hair wearing white patterned clothing. His round face had facial hair and he wore a large pair of silver-rimmed sunglasses.

  “Thank you,” Williams said. Inhab-47 man faded.

  Williams changed into another one of his colourful alien shirts. It helped to rebel every now and again; well it was expected if you were in the beamcast business, he laughed. His producers didn’t approve, but they didn’t approve of anything unless it made credits and upgraded their status. The terrible twins, he called them. Ayleth and Mayleth Lkardis were born and bred Elytians who lived in the Platinum District. A plush, expensive area with full security and butler services. They were always happy to let everyone know of their presumed superiority. In their fifties, they were identical in looks, dress, and mannerisms. Mayleth, though, spoke with a softer voice than her brother, but the vocal tone and attitude were the same. She could be discerned as the female twin because she wore neck jewellery, had her hair severely pulled back into a tight knot, and there were a couple of slight bumps in her chest area.

  Despite their pinched looks, lack of humour, and other attributes, they always managed to provide credits to back beamcast shows, many successful, which Williams reluctantly appreciated. Importantly, they had backed Convict Challenge. The costs were enormous, but the payback would be worth it.

  ***

  After negotiating the ramps and walkways of the dock, Williams made his way into the maze of corridors and offices. The Beam Casting Company had rented out a huge military Holo World facility on a planet not far from Elytia. Space and Police Corps used the facility for training purposes such as rehearsing pirate raids and running command scenarios. It was shaped like two different sized round plates. The smaller one, “The Hub” sat on the surface and was the centre of all functional and technical operations as well as staff quarters. They had restructured some of the briefing rooms into a studio and a cell block. Deep underneath lay four cavernous rooms used for projecting the holographs. The “rooms” were over three kilometres long.

  The twin’s four assistants, two men and two women, met Williams in the lobby outside their temporary offices. Identical facially, in body shape and features, they wore the same black business suits with grey cravats. Williams was used to their “personalities”, they didn’t have one.

  “Director Tslus,”

  “you are,”

  “one minute late,”

  “please come this way,” the assistants said, one after the other.

  Williams found it easier to have a fixed grin when visiting; best way to cope. Their office was a work of art in itself, with dark moulded ceilings continuing to dark wall panels. There were a few antique oddities, statues, and a stuffed Heelly, a kind of domestic cat, in one corner. No holos, pictures, or anything colourful; it was dark, drab, and cold.

  The twins sat behind their sparse desks, peering at him from the moment he entered. They had sharp, pinched faces. In fact, everything about them was pinched, Williams would say if asked.

  “Ah, Soward, please sit down.”

  A hard beam chair appeared and Williams sat down. The seat was uncomfortable, not meant for visitors to spend much time there.

  “I’ve viewed your latest technical meeting,” Mayleth said.

  “All seems in order,” Ayleth said.

  “Holo worlds, studios, guests, cameras, security, transport, it is all coming together. The holo worlds look and feel great,” Williams said.

  “Any other predicted problems …”

  “… or technical issues?”

  Williams waited until they had finished each other’s sentences before replying.

  “There are bound to be some small technical issues, normally happens, but the tech people are all in place. We are using a mixture of soft and hard holographic technology to cut costs. Loads of cheap utility robots have been remodified and the expensive intelligent bots are only being used for security.”

  “The contracts?”

  “I’ve just arrived from Crin. I spoke to all the challengers there, and the Overseers have signed the contracts. As you know the Sanctuary signed their contract last week via beam signatories, they were very amenable. We are set to start in four weeks.”

  Williams expected the next question. He let the silence hang in the air.

  “I presume …”

  “… you are happy that there will be no repeat of the problems with No Win?”

  Williams shifted in his seat. “Yes. The challengers will be accompanied
by Prison Corps officers when being interviewed, but are free during the challenge itself. In fact the Corps guards presence will add a ‘danger’ element to the show.” Williams paused for a moment and as there was no response, he continued.

  “The challengers on this show are much better than the previous ones; less violent and more intelligent. You made a good choice. Now that I have seen them personally and examined their background history, I believe that they all have something to offer. We have the ‘powerful but innocent’ man, addicted ex-Police Corps, a loser, a typical thug, a murdering nun, etc. The viewers will love the different characters.” Williams looked for a sign that his flattery had got him somewhere. Slight smiles appeared on their lips, so it must have worked.

  “The clues and the locations of the keys and rooms …”

  “… have you told anyone where they are?”

  “I am still refining the clues. I’m working on having a link to prisons and execution, that sort of thing.”

  “Well when you have selected the clues …”

  “… let us know. What if something happened to you?”

  “I will record the information, don’t worry,” Williams said, affecting his practiced smile.

  “Please see that you do.”

  There was a short cough-like sound behind Williams. He turned to look at the four assistants standing next to each other. Had they been there all the time?

  Ayleth glanced over towards one of the assistants and nodded. Williams knew that the twins had advanced implants, allowing them to interact by thought with their assistants. He had tried it, but didn’t like it. Once, when his thoughts had strayed during a boring meeting, a pleasure holo appeared behind him, to the laughter of his colleagues.

  “We have a wonderful solid team in place, thanks to your backing. We will get busy living rather than getting busy dying,” Williams said finally.

  The twins just stared at him, confused.

  “I, um, it’s an expression on Inhab-47”

  “Were you …”

  “… down there a bit too long?”

  Williams considered that an attempt at humour, so he laughed slightly.

  “Well thank you Soward …”

  “… we will see you soon in the studios. We are travelling back to Elytia shortly, but will return soon.”

  There was a pause, which he took as a signal to move on. He stood up, the seat faded, and he walked towards the door. The assistants had reformed by the twins’ desks. The female ones were with Mayleth and the males with Ayleth. Talk about straight-laced. They must have been a right pair in school, if their parents allowed them to go, that is.

  He had long got over his disappointment that the twins had decided to set up offices here by the studios rather than staying back on Elytia. They would get in his way, no doubt, but it was their credits, after all. Williams begrudgingly gave them that. If they hadn’t financed Challenge, he would still be turning out rubbish like “Who Should We Execute Tonight?” and “It’s an Interplanetary Knockout.”

  Time to check on the studios and Holo Worlds before the journalist’s visit.

  Chapter 10 - The Tinker

  The limousine swooped down into a lower lane in readiness for parking. Elytia Old Town was exactly that; where the original city had first developed. Its dull brown river weaved around the hotchpotch lines of ramshackle buildings and dwelling pods. The colours of the letters in the holo advertising blocks were faded and blinking. After centuries of building and expansion, it had become the place to avoid. No quaint old place to visit for the history books, it was where the deadbeats, failed gamblers, drinkers, tech heads, drug inhalers, and addicted Deep Yellow users ended up.

  Police Corps tried their best to keep things in line, but often gave up. Once, they implanted a convicted thief with a tracker and happy serum, then sent him into an intox drinking shack. By the end of the morning, he returned to the Corps HQ planted with false information. It took excited Corps investigators days before realising they were being duped.

  Ayleth and Mayleth stared out of their windows with disdain. It was a long time since they had left their bubble of existence in the Platinum District and beam studios. Ayleth mumbled something about why the meeting needed to be held in person and not on holo stream. Mayleth turned up the scent diffuser. It was raining, dreary and overcast, the dark buildings adding to the gloom. People in dowdy-coloured clothing sauntered or shuffled along whilst ancient anti grav sleds, stacked high with impossibly balanced goods, slowly slid along. All the community viewing screens were covered in glowing graffiti.

  The limo came to a halt as the security officer announced that they had reached their destination. After performing a quick-scan, she got out of the limo, walked around to the rear door, and nodded at the blacked out windows. Ayleth pressed a beam button, sliding the door open, and together they were swiftly escorted across the walkway and into a restaurant. Mayleth held her nose the whole time.

  Robo chefs and waiters flew back and forth, as a holo Maître d’ worked the tables. Steam and smoke swirled up from the cooking decks. The security officer led the way past the tables, casting her eye on the scanner every few steps, then along a narrow corridor and through a door that had slid open.

  The large, oval-shaped room was sumptuously fitted with red carpet, wall panels, tapestries, and old wooden furniture, all inlayed with fine white motifs. Embedded within the room were code jammers, stunners, tech weapons, and ex-military holo assistants. The twins stopped just inside the room. They could not fail to notice the smartly dressed, obese man sitting on a tall red lined couch at the end of the room.

  The Tinker.

  He sat upright looking directly at them with his small, dark blue eyes, plump cheeks and three chins. Wearing a three piece suit, he sucked at a small pipe, the smoke wafting and curling around his face before being drawn up into the ventilation system discreetly behind him. It was silent except for the loud tick coming from a large antique clock. Standing in the shadows to the side was a short, balding man who held and scrutinised a double page holo pad.

  The Tinker rested his pipe on a small pot on the couch beside him and focussed back on the twins.

  “My dear Mr. and Miss Lkardis,” he extended the “is” like a hiss, “it is good to see you. Please, take a seat.”

  He motioned to two plush seats, placed a discreet distance in front of him, outside of his invisible security field.

  “If I recall, our last bit of business went well.” He paused, studying their faces, then continued. “So, your show is starting soon, is it not? Lots of gambling opportunities, I believe?”

  “Yes, it starts in just over a couple of weeks …”

  “… everything is organised, we are ready.”

  The Tinker looked from Ayleth to Mayleth as they spoke. His smile did not quite match his eye contact. “And the gambling opportunities?”

  “We predict that it will become popular.”

  “It is being beamed and streamed Association-wide. Maximum exposure, advertisers are onboard. It’s a challenge show which …”

  “Yes I am aware of the show,” the Tinker cut off Mayleth mid sentence.

  “Now,” he fixed his gaze directly at Ayleth, “how are you going to ensure that my challenger wins?”

  “We will do all we can, of course. Your suggestions for challengers was very useful,” Ayleth said.

  “We have the clues for the exit keys that the challengers have to find. We just have to be careful how the information is passed on. Many people and organisations will be watching what we do,” Mayleth said.

  “I’m sure that the funding I have provided will ensure a satisfactory result for both of us?” the Tinker said slowly.

  The twins nodded.

  “We understand, Mr. Tinker.” Mayleth said.

  “Good, I’m sure you do. How is my representative coming along?”

  “He is very experienced, fully involved. The perfect man for the job,” Ayleth said.

 
; “Good. He will give me regular updates. Now, I’m sure that you have a lot of work to do.”

  The Tinker re-lit and puffed on his pipe whilst maintaining eye contact with Ayleth. The meeting had ended.

  Once inside their limousine and communication cocoon, Ayleth said, “We don’t have the clues.”

  “No, but he doesn’t need to know that. We need to work on Soward.”

  “Mayleth, we have to make sure this all goes well.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Whose fault is it that we have to engage with him, anyway?” She made brief eye contact with him, turned up the scent diffuser, and stared out of the window, relieved that they were ascending and getting out of the area.

  ***

  She thought back to when Ayleth told her of his gambling problem. Despite sharing everything with her since the womb, he had not told her about it for some time. He had started by making small bets on the Miglaff races, renowned for its robot jockeys. Part of the appeal were the bizarre outfits worn by the robots riding on the back of an anti grav sled. The unfortunate remote control operators of the sleds had to stand on a trapdoor over a pool of hungry flesh eating fish. Coming last was not an option. The races had become more popular than traditional animal-based ones.

  Ayleth was given full hospitality, with plenty of intox and other substances. He would win some bets, lose others, then started losing more, and had to accept a credit agreement. The Tinker was more than happy to oblige. All hell broke loose when Ayleth told her that he was so deep in debt that the Tinker would be financing and profiting from any upcoming beamcast shows. Mayleth promptly visited the Tinker to discuss the matter.

  “If we got some collateral, we could pay you back over a short period at a fair percentage rate,” Mayleth said.

  “No. I like the idea of investing in the beamcasting business,” the Tinker replied.

  “Ayleth was stupid, he knows that. I’m sure we could come to an agreement.”