Storm Ring Read online

  *

  With a heavy heart Turok started digging graves for Joel and Rainer, and gradually everyone joined in, taking turns digging. The reunions with Giorgi and Franklin were subdued. It was a chance to take their first tentative steps in adapting to the trials that the coming months, or years, would bring. The labor of digging graves was not demoralizing, quite the opposite. The fears they had been suppressing over the vanished convoy re-surfaced. They refused to lose hope, but now the images of absent faces skirted their thoughts. Part of the burden of unshed tears was lifted.

  Each group felt the other’s loss almost as intensely as its own. They looked hesitantly at each other, waiting for someone to volunteer a few words. It was better for anyone to say anything, Mick knew, than to let the awkwardness become something worse. He remembered his grandfather’s favorite Psalm, which he had said at his grandmother’s funeral. He couldn’t remember all of it. But no matter, better to start, he told himself.

  He said the familiar words.

  Carmen almost whispered the next line of ancient verse. They felt the rightness of it, and wended their way haltingly through the lines, offering up phrases, verses, or just single words. It went around the small gathering several times.

  Finally it reached Seamus. “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,” he said.

  A silence settled over them.

  The distant call of a seagull dragged Mick’s eyes up. The bird stood out nakedly free in a landscape where they had heard nothing – not the call of any living thing – since they had disembarked from Arc-4 two days earlier. He turned away from the twin graves. Turok fell in quietly beside him.

  They left Carmen and Seamus kneeling by the graves.

  ______________

  Mick watched as their bedraggled group of eight emerged from the fetid water of the swamp. Though it was only a few hours since they had last stood on this embankment, it felt like days ago. They were almost surprised to see the scooters were as they had left them. Their beamsuits, unsealed during the walk back, were quickly removed. Mick and Turok finished first, and after stowing the guns and other gear in the sidecar, the line of scooters moved swiftly out of the park precincts.

  Thinking back on their last hour at the compound, Mick felt a renewed gratitude for Franklin’s idea about the mutes. The old man had taken Mick and Turok to the mutants’ control array. They had huddled together in the small ground floor room, puzzled by what he was showing them. He’d been right that the console was not shielded by security protocols. Standing behind Franklin, they had watched as he brought up the screen showing the twenty-one cybernetically-altered animals dispersed about the swamp, still patrolling.

  “Like I said, we can’t reprogram their target parameters,” Franklin said.

  “But you can turn them off?” Turok asked.

  “Yeah, this will erase their target and attack subroutines.”

  With a flourish he pressed a key on the keyboard, and the red and yellow icons on the inset map of the park grounds winked out, leaving the light green markers for each of the animals.

  “Look at that!” Turok said, as each of the markers suddenly stopped dead. What had been the smooth, purposeful patrolling movement of twenty-one deadly mutants was transformed.

  “What’ll happen to them?” Mick asked.

  “I have no idea,” Franklin admitted. “They weren’t just genetically altered. They’re true hybrids, organic and synthetic.”

  “Won’t instinct take over?” Mick asked.

  “What instinct? These animals couldn’t occur in nature. They’ve never existed independent of their programming.”

  “But if they’re partial organics,” Mick mused, “no amount of genetic overlapping could erase inherited instinct entirely.”

  Carmen ducked her head into the room. “Hey guys,” she said.

  Engrossed by the image on the monitor, Mick and Franklin nodded without turning around.

  “Or not,” she said, smiling, and was gone.

  Mick was abruptly brought out of his reverie when he was forced to bank his scooter around a tight corner. He reminded himself Seamus was in the lead. Franklin had said Seamus’s band was not brought to the compound. He hoped they were still alive. He knew what Seamus believed: that Franklin’s people had repelled the attack by the men Levrok sent, then rescued Seamus’s friends, and fled to some new, unknown location. Seamus was now taking them to where he thought that might be. But after seeing two safe-houses in the past thirty minutes, neither of the two groups had turned up. They were headed now to a rundown section of lower town near the waterfront.

  4 | Flight

  Driving along a coastal road they passed long-abandoned warehouses, marinas, fish packing plants, and maintenance facilities. They pulled into a dry dock complex that skirted an embankment, running further inland to a pool of green, brackish water. Seamus led them along a parallel low ridge that ran to the pool’s far end. At that end a large channel tunnel, blocked by an ancient metal gantry, provided egress to a filtration station and the ocean beyond. Seamus came to a stop.

  Judging from the thick coating of algae on the pool’s surface, the filtration system had stopped working long ago. Mick watched as Seamus approached a double set of heavily mildewed doors near their end of the pool. Seamus inserted a key and swung the door in. A dark corridor sloped upward into darkness.

  He disappeared inside without a word, the others following.

  Mick entered, pulled the door closed, and was plunged in darkness. A flashlight came on ahead of him; he locked the door and dropped a latching bar in place. Turok handed him a second flashlight he had retrieved from a shelf behind the door.

  They reached the bend and soon after came out inside a circular channel, about the size of a subway tunnel. Sunlight streamed in from the side through the gantry over where the channel fed into the pool. The others were waiting for them on a walkway that followed along the side of that section of the sewer line.

  “There are maintenance rooms further up from here,” Seamus was saying, “at a junction.”

  “And that’s where they are?” Aleesha asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s the only safe place left I can think of.”

  “Maybe there never were any others,” Sorel said.

  “I’m not lying,” Seamus said, a dangerous calm in his voice.

  Sorel looked with scorn at their guide. “Just the two of you hiding out down here – like rats.”

  Despite his slight build, Seamus suddenly sprang at Sorel, bringing down the lanky man ten years his senior.

  “Get this runt off me,” Sorel screamed, fending off most of Seamus’s blows.

  Turok reached down and calmly pulled Seamus back. Sorel scrambled up, glaring at his attacker.

  “Still the same hellion.” Turok grinned, and held Seamus to the wall. “Stay!” he barked good-naturedly.

  Seamus looked over at Sorel with an odd equanimity. He nodded at Turok, who tentatively released his grip. Seamus made no move.

  Mick stepped forward as Sorel said evenly, “He’s leading us into some trap!”

  “Seamus more than proved his loyalty today,” Mick said.

  “If I may,” Franklin said from the back, and stepped forward. “Although I don’t know where the others are,” he said, glancing at Sorel, “I can assure you there are others. And we certainly mean you no harm.”

  Ignoring the old man Sorel retreated sullenly a few steps up the channel.

  “Thanks,” Mick said to Franklin.

  “Someone does mean us harm, all of us,” Seamus said neutrally. “Levrok.”

  “What do you think he has in mind?” Mick asked.

  “He might bring more mutants against us,” Franklin observed.

  “I thought we fried their search and destroy commands?” Turok said.

  “Yes, the ones at the park are harmless now. But there are others – mutes and full synthetics. They’ll likely have dormant target a
nd attack subroutines which Levrok could activate.”

  “How many could he bring against us?” Mick asked.

  Franklin shrugged. “He already gathered most of them at the park, so we’re not talking that many. Maybe ten or so.”

  Seamus nodded. “It’s why I wanted to stop him.”

  “Guys, you could have mentioned this before,” Turok said.

  “We all had other things on our minds,” Franklin said mildly.

  “Why is he after us, anyway?” Carmen asked.

  “He is after me, actually,” Franklin said. “Haven’t you wondered why I was kidnapped?”

  “Frankly, no,” Turok said. “But I’m wondering now.”

  Franklin smiled. “Well, he thinks I can assist him.”

  “In fighting this stilling?” Mick asked.

  “No, in using it, harnessing it.”

  “How?” Mick asked.

  “At a minimum he hopes to use it to prevent any pushback against his forces.”

  “Do you think he’ll make another grab for you?” Mick asked.

  The old man shrugged. “I was less than cooperative.”

  “Then he might have something worse in mind,” Carmen said.

  Franklin nodded. “He may seek reprisal against – all who have harbored and helped me.”

  “Let’s get back to your people,” Mick said. “We can sort this out later.”

  Turok said, “Seamus, my man, lead on.”

  The group set off up the tunnel. As they turned round another bend the tunnel’s last faint ambient light vanished entirely. They rounded a third, sharper turn. Eight flashlights bobbed in the dark, reflecting off the inky black water to one side. The channel was silent and motionless. There was little run-off due to the degraded precipitation cycle. Further inland streams had dried up; rivers had contracted to a series of millponds. The convection of air around the globe had slowed, ocean currents were increasingly sluggish. With such a reduced flow of water, air, and other organic material the sewers had a stronger smell of decay. Clearly this would have been their last choice for a safe-house.

  Mick and Turok walked beside Seamus. “Is there any way Levrok could send his pets down here?” Turok asked.

  “A month ago I would have said no,” their young friend replied. “But he keeps altering their capability. Only last year … they wouldn’t even enter the water.”

  “They sure overcame that fear,” Turok said dryly.

  Seamus gestured behind them. “We have that barred door back at the holding pool. And there’s another just before the maintenance rooms up ahead.”

  “What about the water outlet,” Mick asked. “Where the fence reaches down into the water?”

  “The gantry reaches right to the bottom of the channel. Nothing could get through there.”

  “Sounds good,” Turok said. He turned to Mick. “Nothing to worry about as long as we stay down here.”

  “Knock on wood,” Mick said.

  “Levrok will likely find a way in, sooner or later,” Seamus said

  After walking for about fifteen minutes they saw a faint light appear in the distance ahead.

  “Home sweet home,” Sorel muttered from the back.

  “They won’t shoot, will they?” Turok asked.

  Seamus stopped. “Turn off your flashlights,” he said. When only his beam was left, he waved it in a broad arc over his head, then turned it off and on, alternating three long with one short. “Now they won’t,” he said. “You can turn yours back on.”

  A few minutes later they entered the spill of light around another gantry of iron bars. This one spread out like a wall before them. An inset cell-like door barred their way.

  Three figures stood beyond the partition, looking out at them. They were older than Seamus.

  “Seamus, where’s Joel?” the tallest of the three asked.

  “Dead,” Seamus said.

  The man flinched, turned, and walked back into an adjoining room.

  “At least they’re here,” Turok said quietly.

  A middle-aged man was approaching the gantry. He smiled when he saw Seamus.

  “Hey, lad,” he called out. “Am I glad to see you!”

  “Hi Thomas,” Seamus said, relieved.

  He grabbed the keys and unlocked the door. He grabbed Seamus and pulled him into a hug. “Come on,” he said, rubbing quickly at one of his eyes, and turned to the others. “The rest of you come along too.”

  They followed him through several rooms, around corners, and another secure metal door. They passed under a wide archway and into what had once been a large maintenance room, heavy machinery throughout. Lighter equipment in one area had been pushed to the side, clearing a space for a few tables and chairs that must have been scrounged from other rooms. It appeared to be the biggest room, with the best ventilation. A sofa stood against the wall opposite the door. Mick noted there were seven in the room, including Thomas and the tall sentry from the gate. With the two others back out there, he thought, that’s nine in all.

  “Everyone listen up,” Thomas said, standing next to Seamus in the middle of the room. “As you can see, Seamus has returned!” Several voices called to Seamus in welcome. “He has bad news for us, about Joel.” Thomas stepped away, and nodded to Seamus as he eased his bulk into the sofa.

  “A mute got him as we crossed the swamp,” Seamus said simply. “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, so don’t apologize,” Thomas said from the sofa.

  “Unless –” the tall man from the gate said.

  “Unless what, Afflek?” Thomas asked, giving him a hard look.

  “Unless – there’s anything more we haven’t heard.”

  “Well?” he said, turning back.

  Seamus nodded wearily. “It came out of the quadrant that we were watching. I should have gotten a shot off. I should have –” he broke off.

  “We all should have,” Mick said.

  “No one is to blame,” Carmen said gently. “Especially not Seamus.” She looked at the others. Several murmured their agreement. She noticed Giorgi look away restlessly.

  “Does anyone else think,” Thomas asked, looking at Afflek, “there’s more we need to hear?”

  When no one spoke up Afflek looked uncomfortable.

  “We buried Joel,” Seamus said quietly. Mick was startled at what Seamus said next, it seemed comically out of context. “I heard a sea gull,” he said.

  Thomas sat forward. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  The adolescent nodded.

  Thomas looked at the others.

  No one had noticed Franklin standing by one of the pieces of heavy machinery. “And here I thought I’d imagined it,” the old man said, his voice echoing slightly. “Seamus is right. It was truly a beautiful sound. Especially after so many months.”

  Thomas turned to Franklin. “Could be the stilling is starting to recede.”

  The old man shook his head. “Like I said before, the more direct threat is the return of the CTT.”

  “This stilling – why do you call it that?” Mick asked.

  A young woman sitting on the floor by the sofa, her back against the cushions, said abruptly, “Because that’s what it does. It stills everything – the wind, the sky, the ocean.” She turned to Franklin. “And us. It’s stilling us.”

  “Eventually it will,” Franklin added mildly, “as Nebura’s environment collapses. But the stilling is not causing the disease.”

  “We’ve seen the effects on the ocean,” Mick said, “and the lack of animals. But we have no clear idea what it is.”

  “No one does,” Franklin admitted. “We only know it’s affected most of Nebura. While I was Levrok’s guest I was allowed access to databases in the southern cities, and the observatories.” He glanced around at the young faces. “It appears that this system’s star, and Nebura, are in the middle of a very unusual ion cloud.”

  He was chagrined by their lack of reaction.

  “The
sun itself,” he continued, “for reasons I can’t fathom, has generated an invisible cloud of ions, evenly dispersed throughout this system. Its density has increased over time … roughly matching the slope of the stilling’s spread.”

  “So this ion cloud could be causing it?” Mick asked.

  “Perhaps,” Franklin said. “Or all three, the ion anomaly, the stilling, and the disease might be shared effects of something else entirely. It’s too early to isolate what’s causing what.”

  Marnie turned again to Franklin. “You said that as the stilling has advanced, the disease cycle, once it takes hold in a body, unfolds faster. What does that tell you?”

  “The same thing it tells you,” he answered. “The stilling appears to make us more susceptible.”

  Marnie shrugged. “Either way we’re running short of time.”

  Franklin nodded as he crossed the room. “I’m afraid I have more bad news. It’s affected now about 60% of the world. The hardest-hit area is a wide band at the equator, diminishing gradually as you go north and south. Only the poles are unaffected.”

  This produced a shocked silence.

  “The poles are unaffected?” Mick asked. “Completely?”

  “Yes.”

  “But it will just spread to the poles too, won’t it?” Marnie asked.

  “So I assumed. But now I wonder.” He paused. “If it doesn’t –”

  “If it doesn’t,” Mick said suddenly, “then that’s where we should be. We should have our base at one of the poles!”

  The old man nodded, encouraged by Mick’s enthusiasm.

  ______________

  Carmen walked behind Marnie. The main sewer line would take them to within half a mile of a concealed lookout post located high on an escarpment that marked the southern limits of this part of the city. The sewer ran parallel with a valley that skirted the base of the escarpment. The valley’s western end emptied into the water filtration station, and four miles inland its eastern end swung north following the line of the valley and escarpment. The walkway widened and Carmen moved up to walk beside Marnie.

  The discussion had continued long into the evening. It culminated with Thomas offering the use of his 80-foot fishing boat moored in the river three miles to the north. They agreed to set out for the northern hemispheric pole, roughly 1500 miles away. Few expected that moving there would save them from the stilling and the disease, whichever got them first, but even just delaying that day was clearly reason enough to go. All in the Arcturus group except Sorel had been excited by the idea, and agreed almost immediately. Thomas and Marnie were as eager as their new friends; several others were neutral, but raised no objections. Mick thought they might have agreed just for the change, to get away from Nebu City. Who could blame them? They ended the evening by resolving to leave within two days. Afflek and one other from Thomas’s group had resisted the plan, and only agreed when Thomas had pointed out they were free to stay.

  Walking side by side, Marnie laughed when Carmen asked about the lookout. “It’s just a flatbed truck up on the escarpment. We added thick sides.”

  “And what are we watching for?”

  “Mutes of course. And Levrok. And any others who’ve joined him.”

  Carmen shivered. “I was hoping we’d seen the last of them.”

  “I doubt it.”

  The sewer tunnel sloped upwards. Carmen was worn out from being constantly on the move. “I could sleep for a week,” she said. “I’ll be glad to get on board that boat.”

  Marnie nodded as she stepped over a dead cat. “It’s time to try something new.”

  Carmen thought of the whirlwind of changes they had set in motion. It was now 5 in the morning. She looked at the channel water – it had a bit of current due to the incline. “It’s weird how the north pole here has no snow or glaciers.”

  Marnie hooked her fingers in the rifle strap so her maser rested more easily against her chest. “No tilt in this planet’s axis, so we have no seasons.” She shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

  Carmen thought of the fishing boat. “You aren’t frightened of sailing north?”

  “I remember fishing with my uncle and grandfather, back when the oceans were normal. I know it won’t be the same, but I’m still looking forward to it.”

  “So your people really want to leave?”

  Marnie looked sideways at Carmen. “I don’t know. We were so looking forward to Franklin’s disease.”

  Carmen laughed.

  She had been relieved to hear the boat was in good condition. Apparently it only required a few minor changes, and refueling. Two of the men in their group had already left to retrieve the keys from an office at the same dock, and set to work getting the boat ready.

  Marnie absently hitched up the gun strap again. “Did you know Levrok was once one of us?”

  Carmen paused in mid-step. “No.”

  “Yeah, he was the one who found the park when we first came here a few years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  Marnie stopped beside Carmen. “The stilling happened. He wanted all of us to move there. Especially Franklin.”

  “He mentioned that.”

  “Yeah, so Levrok got weird – about his family’s ancient Siqdori past. Most of us didn’t like it.” She shrugged. “Ten of our people went with him, but the rest of us stayed together.”

  “But not here?”

  “Here. And other places.” She started walking again.

  They turned another corner. Marnie stopped at a ladder set in the concrete wall. “This is it.”

  Carmen pulled out her palm maser.

  Marnie looked back over her shoulder as she stepped onto the first rung. “Watch your head.”

  They emerged into a maintenance bay at the back of a bus terminal. One of the building’s support columns had partially collapsed, leaving two adjoining beams jutting out a few feet above the manhole.

  They crossed from this building into the main terminal, which led to a covered pedestrian stairway that climbed like a set of fire stairs up the side of the escarpment behind the terminal. Marnie started taking the stairs two at a time. She paused on the fourth landing to catch her breath. Carmen slogged along behind her.

  Moments later they were at the truck. Its back end was rammed up against the end of the stairs. It occurred to Carmen that at no point during their walk had they been visible to the street. They climbed a loading pallet propped against the back of the truck, and stepped in. Two others on lookout duty glanced up as they entered. Eager to get back they picked up their satchels, nodded, and were gone.

  ______________

  Levrok and Wahid rode along the high escarpment that ran parallel with the coast, about 4 miles inland. Their motorcycles were loud in the early morning. Levrok preferred the larger bikes. Behind them rode a third man, and behind him were six pairs of mutants. They moved forward in flawless formation, their lithe padding stride made them like a company of superbly-disciplined, quadripedal infantry. Levrok glanced in his bike’s rear-view mirror and admired the muscular pistoning motion of the animals’ short legs. He admired even more the Siqdori ingenuity that had bio-engineered such efficient killing machines out of what had once been scavengers! Their genetic mapping, however, had degraded over the years, and with it their efficiency. ‘They die too easily now,’ Levrok thought sourly.

  It was impossible to speak with Wahid over the roar of the machines, which suited Levrok. He turned in at a viewing area by the side of the road that overlooked the city below.

  Beyond Nebu City the ocean lay coiled on the horizon, an inert heaviness that seemed to jealously smother the last unraveling shards of sound from the bikes. The labored breathing of the troop behind them only emphasized the stillness of the morning. Levrok liked the stillness, it calmed his restless mind. The two looked around. The mutants stood at ease, their legs half-bent, eager to resume the morning’s jaunt.

  With some regret Levrok broke the silence. �
�It’s essential that we kill the good doctor.”

  The subordinate turned to Levrok. “Yes sir.”

  “Tell me, Wahid. Do you understand why it is necessary?”

  He hesitated. “The old man escaped.”

  Levrok laughed. “True. And that indeed is reason enough. But there are other, better reasons.”

  “Dr. Varo seeks to end the cleansing.”

  Levrok looked at the deathly still ocean. It never failed to calm him.

  He released the bike’s kickstand, and leaned back. “True again. And we do need a cleansed world, if our plans are to proceed. What else?”

  “He concealed the regrav element which the Kalaal – “

  “Don’t speak of that vile entity.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “He concealed vital information,” Levrok agreed, nodding slowly, clenching his leather-clad hand into a fist. “The weapon system is coming along nicely, despite his sabotage. And for that, he must die.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Levrok turned his attention to the city below. “We’ve searched the last two places they went to ground in. What’s left?”

  Wahid turned and looked south along the coast. “A few months ago two of them got lost in the sewer complex. Dr. Varo mentioned it once.”

  Levrok had looked away, noting that his assistant failed to see the ocean’s stilled purity. “Move into the sewers?” he asked.

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Okay. What’s the best way in?”

  Wahid pointed to the water filtration building on the coast. “We can gain access over there, at the outflow.”

  Levrok nodded.

  They powered up their bikes and set off for the escarpment road that led down into the city.

  ______________

  As Mick, Turok, and Thomas crested the hill the early morning sun was in their eyes. They walked forward and their gaze fell on the egg-shaped outline of the Arcturus-4 shuttle. She lay in the shadow of the hill behind her, undisturbed.

  Thomas sighed, a look of quiet appreciation on his round face. “What a beauty.”

  When the aperture opened a short stairway scythed out, unfolding smoothly to the ground. They climbed up and entered.

  Mick walked immediately into the control suite, as ship’s systems came up from dormant to active. The shuttle had enough power in her liquid crystal energy cells to maintain all ship’s modalities, except propulsion, for several months.

  Thomas stood with Turok just inside the aperture. He was visibly impressed as his eyes adjusted to the muted lighting. “So you can’t communicate with the ship’s computer on the other shuttles.”

  “No, the neutronics are still down. Something Trinh said about the EMA.” Turok saw the questioning look. “Electromagnetic anomaly.”

  Thomas nodded. “The ion cloud.”

  Turok led him forward, nodding towards the rear of the ship. “Back there is the galley, and what we call the Node, for meals and the like. Bathrooms and sleeping pallets are back there too. And hiberstasis, of course.”

  They passed through Operations, two of the walls lined with one continuous workstation, looking very lived-in. Mobile keyboards jostled among handwritten notes, below fixed 2D screens.

  Turok nodded at one separate station. It had a fixed multilevel keyboard below a dark inset cell. “Navigation. There’s no synthetic onboard. But there is a regular shuttle computer, of course.” He nodded at the cell. “Holographics.”

  “Can we access the regular shuttle computer here?”

  Turok shrugged. “Sure, but there’s no access to Arc-5 or 6.”

  Mick came in. “There’s something I’d like to ask Trinh too.” He swiveled, half-turning towards the bulkhead. “Voice code authorization. Hello, Trinh.”

  The computer’s familiar voice spoke to them from a disembodied audiofield position a short distance in front of them. “How are you, Mick,” she replied.

  Thomas smiled, shaking his head; he sat at a nearby console.

  “I’m fine. Look, Trinh, I realize neutronics are still down.”

  “That is correct.”

  “So deploying a satellite, assuming there was enough energy on Arc-5 or 6, would be impossible?”

  “Yes.”

  “A synthetic pulse buoy?”

  “Although it has no neutronic components, several of its other systems would be affected by this anomaly. I’m sorry, Mick.”

  “Thanks.”

  The computer made the chirping sound of signing off.

  ‘Rainer was right,’ Mick thought. He turned to Thomas and nodded at the controls. “Normally Arc-5 and 6 would be patched into the helm here.”

  Turok took out the list they had prepared. “First up. Pressure suits. Let’s take them all. Medikits. Two satellite notebooks, and the energy sticks.” He nodded at Thomas. “Your boat has no neutronics, so we’ll need the notebooks. I’ll get those.”

  “I’ll get the medikits and suits,” Mick said.

  Turok consulted the list again. “More notebook attachments. Navigation, comm links.” They stood up and set out, leaving Thomas in Operations.

  After collecting the half-dozen other items they met at the aperture.

  Turok was sporting a Blue Jays baseball cap and carrying a long black haversack.

  “Anything else?” Mick asked.

  Turok held up the list. “No. That’s all of it.”

  Mick palmed the aperture. As Turok and Thomas trooped out Mick realized how calm he felt, just being back on board. He’d almost forgotten how urgent their situation was. He turned and said to the empty ship. “Bye, Trinh.”

  “Godspeed, Mick.”

  Mick smiled as he emerged from the Arc-4. They descended the hill to their scooters.

  _______________

  Carmen was impressed by the view from the escarpment – this meant excellent surveillance, she realized. From the truck’s perch overlooking the city, she could see part of the north side of the hill, where they had left Arcturus-4. She knew that beyond the hill, only a mile further up the coast, was the river where the fishing boat was moored. In the same direction, closer at hand, though most of it was concealed behind tall tropical trees, she could see the edge of the park-swamp. ‘From up here it looks innocent enough,’ she thought.

  Marnie was leaning back in one of the molded chairs her group had originally brought up from the terminal. She gave her attention to the city below as Carmen scanned the horizon. There was not the slightest wisp of cloud in the sky.

  Marnie saw her looking up. “Is there any hope of contact with the other shuttles?”

  Carmen shook her head. “Not with this ion cloud … unless Trinh finds a way. And there’s the energy factor too.”

  “Trinh is the AI pilot?”

  Carmen nodded. “Mick’s bringing the notebooks so we’ll have satellite uplink if she does manage it.”

  “Being on Polarica might make a difference, same as how the stilling is absent, or weaker there.”

  “Apparently all the planets in this system are affected.”

  “Maybe that’s what’s made this world go haywire.”

  Carmen shrugged. “Without a comm link, we may never know.”

  Marnie sat forward quickly. She looked through the binoculars at the sewer outflow area. “Looks like Levrok is knocking at our front door,” she said, her voice flat.

  Carmen swore. “So he knows.”

  Marnie nodded. “Franklin went voluntarily before, to keep the peace. We won’t let him go this time.”

  “I wonder how Levrok takes disappointment.”

  There was a sudden flash of light at the tunnel entrance, followed by the sound of an explosion.

  Marnie was instantly on her feet. “They’re using ballistics! I don’t believe it.”

  Carmen snatched up the one backpack they had brought. “Let’s go.”

  They were out of the truck and down the escarpment stairs in moments. They retraced their ste
ps through the terminal and down into the main east-west sewer line. The sound of another, much louder explosion reached them. It must have been inside the tunnel, much closer.

  “They must already be at the internal gate.” Marnie sounded shaken.

  They could hear a distant roaring sound. They couldn’t identify it, the tunnel’s acoustics distorted and amplified the sound in unpredictable ways.

  Marnie stood still, straining to hear. “It sounds like our scooters, but down here?”

  “They’re driving up the tunnel!” Carmen laughed in spite of herself.

  Marnie turned. “If they’re all coming this way, we should head back.” They began jogging back up the tunnel.

  “Can we get all the way to the river on the scooters, through these tunnels?”

  “No. But this line hooks up with a dried-out canal. There’s an exit there, past the terminal.”

  They ran ahead as the sound grew louder. They passed the ladder to the terminal, Carmen nearly falling as they came around a tight bend. The echoing roar increased. The sides and ceiling of the tunnel were suddenly awash with the bouncing lights of many bikes. They came to a heavy grating. Marnie lifted a latch and they manhandled it to one side. They leaped down about 18 inches onto the concrete bed of the canal. The bobbing lights drew closer.

  Aleesha was on the lead bike, Carmen saw. She exhaled in relief. Aleesha’s scooter hung suspended in the air before landing smoothly on the canal surface. One after another the other bikes followed her out, spinning into a ragged semicircle, their engines idling.

  Carmen watched as Aleesha alighted from her bike and spoke quickly to Marnie. Aleesha jumped on the back of another bike.

  Marnie retrieved a tablet from under the seat … and keyed in a quick command. She swung on the bike she would ride alone, and looked calmly around at them. They heard the distant roar of pursuing scooters in the tunnel. They all looked over as Marnie nodded quickly, and tore off.

  Everyone knew where they were heading. Seconds later an explosion behind them reverberated through the canal’s concrete bed. Carmen glanced back at the tunnel entryway, which was engulfed in a cloud of smoke and dust.

  ______________

  Mick had set the notebook case on the boat’s ancient map table.

  Turok was rooting through the boat’s map stores, pulling out transparent acrylic tubes, each containing a rolled-up paper map. “Wow, the owners used real hardcopy maps!”

  Thomas was sitting on a stool before the map table. “It’s worse than that. There’s no computer on this tub.”

  Mick and Turok turned and looked at their host. He was grinning.

  Mick smiled. “But why? Fish bait would cost more!”

  Thomas held up his hands, palms out. “Many of the settlers from Earth have a mild Luddite streak.” He stood and crossed to the pilot-house window, scanning ahead of the boat’s bow towards the mouth of the river. It looked as still as the ocean, like an icebound inland fjord back on Earth, except there was no ice here. Just as there were no seasons.

  Thomas was interrupted by the heavy thump of an explosion, like someone slammed a heavy steel door a few feet away. He gripped the narrow ledge below the window with both hands.

  Mick stepped forward, regaining his balance. “That came from the sewer tunnel.” He crossed to the door as Turok grabbed his gun off a side-shelf. “Let’s go!”

  Thomas whirled round. “No!”

  Mick stopped in mid-step. “What do you mean?”

  The two young men they had met when they boarded were standing in the open doorway. One of them turned to Thomas. “We’re set to go. You ready here?”

  Thomas nodded, and stepped over to the pilot’s chair.

  Turok’s voice filled the room. “What are you doing!”

  Thomas spoke as he turned the ignition switch. “It’s our back-up plan.” The ancient engine roared to life. “They’ll meet us at the bridge upriver.”

  Mick and Turok were unconvinced. “What if they’re pinned down in the tunnel?”

  Thomas left the engine in neutral. “They won’t be. We never planned on making a stand in the sewer. It’s a way to trap them while we get away. Right now all our people should be driving back through the tunnel to the canal.” He drummed his fingers on the engine gear lever.

  Mick stepped in close to Thomas. “Scooters – in the tunnel?”

  “Yes!”

  “How long?”

  “In nine minutes they should be at the bridge. We can be there in half that.”

  “You go ahead, Thomas,” Mick said, as he reached down in the weapons bag Turok had left by the door. He scooped out a maser rifle and opened the door. “We’ll see you there.” He stepped out of the door and swung over onto the dock. Turok was close behind, carrying a larger pulse rifle.

  The man standing in the bow waved at them as their bikes roared to life. As Mick and Turok drove along parallel to the dock a short distance, their rifles slung on their backs, they turned and saw Thomas pulling into the middle of the river. The boat accelerated smoothly, its bow rising in the water. It was half-planing the surface when they turned onto the city road that led to the escarpment.

  ______________

  Marnie crested the top of the feeder road, clearing a few inches above and landing on the shoulder. The others followed in a straggling line behind her. She sliced out across a field. Moments later they pulled up onto the escarpment road.

  ‘The mutes are either inside the sewer, trapped or dead, or they managed to get out,’ Marnie thought. ‘If they’re out, they’ll be in the canal looking for the exit.’

  She had left the canal by careening up a sloped section that reached to the canal-bed – an old boat-launch and dry dock yard. She came round a bend and saw an overpass up ahead, the last landmark before the bridge where Thomas should be waiting. That was a mile further on, she knew. She narrowed her eyes and saw two bikes approaching from beyond the overpass, coming on as fast as she was. They slowed and stopped, on her side. They each reached back and pulled out rifles. Then seeing it was Mick and Turok, she laughed, swearing as she geared down and came to a halt beside them.

  Mick looked at her. “The mutes?”

  She nodded. “Maybe two minutes behind us.”

  “You go ahead,” Turok said. “We’ll follow.”

  The others came roaring round the bend, moving faster now, she noticed. Slipping her bike into gear she nodded ahead. “Is Thomas up there, in the boat?”

  “He should be,” Mick said, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder.

  She nodded, gunned her engine and was off. Turok hesitated, then slung his rifle as the others went tearing by, fear raw on their faces.

  Turok slid his bike into gear, and took off, protecting their rear.