Into the Light by Jane Wallace
Chapter 23

Hauki stared at the bowl of glutinous slop on the table in front of her. She couldn’t tell whether it was animal or vegetable. She glanced around at the other women sitting on the bench with her. They wore the same lurid red dress and silver dog-tag as she did. It was an odd choice for a prison uniform, uncomfortable too, bagging around the shoulders and cutting across the hips.

Her table was one of thirty similar in the vast refectory. Hundreds of women filed past the four serving hatches where the food was dispensed by male cooks in green overalls. At the tables, the women attacked the colourless gruel with plain wooden spoons, shovelling it into their mouths as if it was prime sirloin. There was little talking, although polite conversation would have been challenging given the volume of slurping and chewing. Hauki took a taste of her meal and retched, pushing the plate away from her in disgust.

‘I’ll have it!’ said her neighbour, milky blue eyes suddenly acquisitive.

‘Help yourself, it’s disgusting,’ said Hauki.

‘Not when there’s nothing else, you’ll replace out soon enough.’ She grabbed at the bowl and greedily started spooning the contents into her mouth, strands of blond hair from an untidy bun falling into the dish.

‘What’s that white stuff? Can we eat it?’ Hauki asked, pointing at the basket of pale biscuits by every place setting.

‘You are new here. That’s rexadrin, something to help you get through the day.’ The woman patted her mouth with a delicate gesture which suggested she once might have dined at finer tables than their current accommodation. She looked around then said quietly: ‘Is your name Hauki?’

‘Yes.’

‘I met your friend, Sevin. He was in my cell this morning.’

‘Sevin? He’s here?’

‘He was. Last hit before lunch. He’s not such a nice man, didn’t treat me very well.’

‘That’s unusual. Are you sure it was him?’

‘He was looking for you – and two others.’

‘Where is he?’

‘I, er, I don’t know, I fell asleep. Too much of that.’ She pointed at the biscuits.

‘I have to replace him! He can get us out of here.’

‘Not a chance, no-one gets out of here.’

‘Yolo, can I meet your new friend?’ said the younger, sandy-haired woman opposite them.

‘Sure.’

‘Wait, I’ll come round.’ She took the empty space on Hauki’s left. ‘Hi, I’m Lanna. Did I hear you say your name was Hauki?’

‘Yes.’

‘Marik told me to look out for you.’

‘Marik?’

‘Yes, Marik. Tall, mid-twenties, sort of red-brown hair?’

‘So he’s here too?’

‘Yes, one of my hits this morning.’

‘Hits? You keep saying “hits”, what d’you mean?’

‘We’re supposed to call them customers. The men,’ said Lanna.

‘What men?’

Lanna’s deep-set brown eyes examined her closely, then decided she wasn’t joking. ‘The men! You know, the ones we have sex with?’

‘Have sex with?’ An awful realisation started to grow. Hundreds of women all in the same red dress – red the colour of blood, the hue of shame.

‘Mother above! That’s going to happen to me?’

Their reply was a look of commiseration.

‘Oh no, listen to me, we’re going to get out of here, all of us.’ Hauki grasped the women’s wrists. ‘My crew mates are here, they’ll help us.’

Yolo shook her head sadly. ‘It’s impossible.’

A bell rang. The women around them rushed the last of the food and stood up.

‘It’s clocking on,’ Lanna said. ‘We have to go back in the cells for the afternoon hits. You might be next to me. Now Lilbet’s ...’ she caught the eye of Yolo, ‘gone, there’s an empty one next door.’

They joined the crowds leaving the cafeteria and descended several flights of bare concrete stairs until they reached a floor with swing doors where some male operatives with mops and brushes were finishing the first session clean-up.

‘This is Section E,’ said Lanna, holding the door open for them. ‘There’s about a hundred cells here.’

‘How many sections are there?’ said Hauki. They were passing along a narrow carpeted corridor accompanied by the clang of metal doors shutting.

‘Twenty-six. That’s in this Tower. I don’t know about the others.’

Hauki did the calculations and felt sick.

They stopped outside one of the reinforced doors with 20 etched on its number plate. ‘Here’s me,’ said Lanna. She nodded at a place behind Hauki’s shoulder. ‘Now you’ll replace out where you are.’

‘09482?’ A woman with black hair swept upwards in a lofty pile addressed her. She wore the same red outfit as Hauki except hers had gold piping. She looked Tian or Borredan and had an unnecessarily aggressive attitude.

‘Yes,’ she said. It was the number on her dog-tag.

‘You’re in here.’ The supervisor pointed at the half-open door of number 19 on the left of Lanna’s cell. ‘Get in.’

‘It’ll be alright,’ Lanna called. ‘There’s an alarm by the bed. The guardians are watching on the camera so if it gets really bad, they will come.’

The door clanked shut behind her. She was alone with a double bed, its shiny chocolate throw and a painting of sunset circles over the headboard. She checked the windows in the oppressively white bathroom and in the main room. They didn’t open and she was at least fourteen stories above ground level. Nor did the drinks compartment yield anything of use: no sharp instruments, no glass bottles and not even any alcohol. She sat down at the round table to collect her thoughts when a bell rang. The cell door swung open to admit a Yeteni man who appeared as wide as he was tall. He wore a black suit that clearly belonged to someone else as the jacket edges hung sullenly by his sides without any attempt to meet each other halfway.

‘Hey baby,’ he said, extending the tree-trunks of his arms. His smile was as oily as the black hair plastered over a bald spot at the crown. ‘Looks like you’re the lucky lady who gets to make old Geroud happy this afternoon!’

Hauki recoiled in her chair, panic drumming the blood in her ears. No way was this perspiring blob of humanity going to get anywhere near her. She took a deep breath, weighing up the situation. She was considering the red pullcord when the door banged shut behind Geroud. The hard pellets of his eyes monitored her as he reached a hand behind him to try the handle. It wouldn’t open.

‘Aww, what a shame! We’re locked in together for a whole hour.’ He rubbed his hands together, sucking air through his teeth. ‘You, lady, are in for the time of your life, d’you know that?’ He strolled the few paces forward to where she sat at the round table. He stopped, hands in pockets, and focused on the curves revealed by the ill-fitting dress.

‘Not bad for an old bitch,’ he said. ‘I reckon you like it dirty too. Oh yeah, by the time I’m finished, you’ll be begging me for more. Yeah baby, I can see you really want me right now!’

He lunged at her, hands grabbing for her breasts. Anticipating his move, she leapt away from the chair, leaving him to grope at the upholstery.

He stood up with a roar. ‘So, you like it rough, huh? You like to play games? Geroud likes to play games!’ He rose on his toes and started to circle her like a sparring partner, landing a few random punches on her arms. She tried to get past but there was too much of him, his sheer bulk forced her back. His eyes gleamed and she sensed that the fight was arousing him further. He breathed heavily as he came in for the kill, catching her hands then trapping each one against the hard barricade of the walls, leaning his mass of blubber against her so she was squashed in the corner.

‘I like it when you play rough.’ His nose was rammed against hers and the stink of drenna and rotting fish was suffocating. She twisted her head but couldn’t avoid the protruding tongue that stabbed into her mouth, bruising her lips and slobbering her chin. Stifling her scream, she bit down on it, tasting blood. She felt the howl reverberate through his throat before it exploded into the air. He reeled backwards.

‘You slut!’

A titanic fist smashed into her left temple. It dazed her and she had to shake her head before instinct took control and she kicked him hard in the groin. As he bent over, she delivered an upswing into his nose then a chop to the exposed neck. He crumpled to his knees, knocking over the chair as he went. It gave her an idea. It was heavy but she managed to swing the seat high enough to bring it down over his head. He fell forward unconscious, the chair legs wrapped around his ears.

Hauki looked to the door and the camera slit on its left. She must have been seen, the guardians would come soon. She snapped one of the splintered legs off the chair and pressed a few fingers to the wound on her eyebrow. It was wet and sticky with blood. She checked out the door. It would open on to the left, but the camera had been positioned on the right, presumably so the view would never be blocked by the door when it was open. Thinking fast she walked over to the metallic gate, slid down to the floor and wriggled under the camera where she waited.

Soon enough she heard whispers outside, at least two guardians preparing to enter. She readied herself. The door swung open and a rackarmen entered first, followed by the hand which held it and a green-clad forearm. Springing up, she clubbed the hand with such force that it dropped the weapon. Hauki scrabbled after it, whipping around to shoot the male guard in the leg before he could get back in the corridor. He yelped, missed a footing and fell down in front of the camera as his companion sent a screech of pulse from the doorway. Hauki dodged the shot with a dive to the right, landing almost on top of the first man. Sticking the rackarmen against his head, she grabbed him to her chest.

‘Give me your gun or I’ll finish him,’ she said to the guardian in the doorway, manoeuvring his partner across her so he acted as a shield. ‘Slide it over here, slowly, then put your hands in the air.’

He put his blaster on the floor and kicked it across the carpet to Hauki.

‘On the bed, both of you. Hands in the air I said!’ Keeping the rackarmen on the first man, she released him to scoop up the blaster which she pointed at the guardian in the door. She stood up slowly while they watched her, rooted to the spot.

‘On the bed - move it!’ She sent a few lines of charge over their heads to hurry them along. When they were both cringing on the coverlet, she shot out the emergency cord with the rackarmen. Finally she blitzed the camera.

‘Stay there and don’t move,’ she said, edging towards the door. She surveyed the outside corridor. It was empty, for the moment. Backing out, she pulled the door shut to lock the guardians inside and took off to the left, stopping outside the door of the neighbouring cell where she slammed her elbow against the entry button. Inside Lanna was lying on the bed with her skirt hoicked around her waist, the naked buttocks of a hit pumping up and down between her legs.

’Oh my gods!’ she cried when she saw Hauki standing over them, a gun in each hand and the blood from her head wound streaked in a fearsome war paint over her left eye.

Hauki pressed the tip of the rackarmen between the hit’s shoulder blades.

‘Get your pants on, sister,’ she said, ‘we’re getting out of here.’

θ

Marik and Sevin were taken by train to a six-storey building which seemed to be all glass except for an eye-catching red cross stuck over the front entrance. Inside the reception area was solidly feminine with a pastel colour scheme and soft seating. The staff kept themselves occupied and did not look up as the Kuhku steered their prisoners past the enquiries desks and into an elevator behind.

They stopped on the fourth floor where the doors opened into a wide, bright corridor running to the left and right. An unfriendly shove sent Sevin towards the swing doors opposite the lift. Behind the doors was a large, low-ceilinged area like an operating theatre. It was filled with white beds in a tight square, sixteen in all, each one with a spotlight and instruments on pull-down arms attached to the roof above. The bottom of each bed split into two parts, some of which were splayed.

It was dark apart from the two raised areas either side of the square. On the right, there was a solid steel construction which looked like the cabin of a small space craft. An orange glow leaked out of tiny portholes and it even had an airtight hatch for an entry point. Sevin and Marik were guided towards the left and up a short flight of steps to an opaque door in the centre of an otherwise clear-fronted office. In the windows either side of the door were a bench workstation with two vacant chairs.

One Kuhku leaned on the intercom. ‘Dr Kroller?’

‘Come in.’ The autodoor pulled up into the lintel and they trudged in. Straight across from the door was a wooden bureau placed against the back wall. The man sitting behind it wore a lab coat and had chin-length hair turning grey.

‘The intruders, sir,’ said the Kuhku. He and his partner withdrew, one to each side of the door, their backs to the windows and their blasters ready.

The doctor examined Sevin and Marik with odd-coloured eyes, one red and one blue.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘Geroud Hamda,’ said Sevin.

‘Farij Falal,’ said Marik.

‘And what were you doing in the House? It is off-bounds to Assama patrons.’ He unfolded himself from his seat and walked out from behind the desk to stand behind them. Sevin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle under the inspection.

‘We got lost,’ said Sevin.

‘I don’t believe you,’ said the doctor, circling Marik. ‘Kind of odd-looking for a Yeteni, aren’t you?’ he said, comparing their heights. Kroller and Marik were about the same size. ‘And a most unusual hair colour.’

‘I could say the same about you.’

Kroller reddened. ‘Some of us were just born that way.’

‘Half-Gharst, you’re the lowest of the low,’ said Sevin, deliberately provoking him.

’An ill-informed opinion, sadly shared by many. If I had been born today, my colouring could have been corrected in uterum.’

‘Corrected? You mean to look more Gharst? What’s correct about that?’ said Marik.

’I mean having no imperfections! Imagine if you were born with perfect beauty, a hyper-intelligence, an inbuilt resistance to all forms of disease. Human life would be improved beyond measure. Some races are already modifying their appearance coding – the Cascorians, the Alburrax. This is just the beginning. We will soon be able to better our intellect, even erase aggression. War could be relegated to history!’

‘Or you could create a race of killers to take over the Known Worlds,’ said Sevin.

Kroller’s eyes turned to flint. ‘Our work is evidently beyond your comprehension as evidenced by your pathetic disguise. I am the Known Worlds’ authority on cation exchangers and skin pigmentation. Do you think I can’t recognise a dose of dermadark?’

Sevin didn’t flinch. ‘You’ve done a deal with the Yeteni - women for influence. They solve their gender imbalance problem, you offload your undesirables plus gain a foothold in this part of the galaxy.’

‘Stupidity is hereditary, did you know? The Yeteni don’t care about the future, they want instant gratification. Their men are screaming for women and threatening to revolt if they don’t get them. The government knew exactly what would happen if they continued with their barbarian customs yet they did nothing to resolve it, they were so afraid of losing power and the popular vote.’

‘So you’ve given them what they want. No wonder the birth rate is booming. I’ll bet they didn’t sign up to breeding a race of mutant murderers for the Gharst. I’ll bet they don’t even know.’

‘You’re becoming boring, whoever you are.’ He returned to his desk to rifle through a drawer, retrieving a DNA reader. ‘I thought this would come in useful one day.’

The click of blasters being primed behind his back encouraged Sevin to put his hand on the reader’s touchpad. Kroller looked surprised when he read the results.

’I am in good company: Major Tem Sevin, Second SO, Star Troop,’ he said. ’Although now I see you’re on the wanted list, a thief and renegade. There’s a large bounty on your head, Major Sevin, and more for Infinity. Ah, the ship, of course, Mehmeh’s great catch today! How could he overlook that – and the renegade princess? What an imbecile, all he sees is the five thousand a head in bounty. Never mind, we can forward the ship and the Cascorian to the relevant authorities when I’ve had a chance to inspect both of them.’

He reappraised his two prisoners. ‘I suppose you have the same communication devices as they did. Give them to me.’

Marik and Sevin removed their novos and put them in Kroller’s hand. He pocketed them, saying: ‘You’re a long way from your homeworld, Major Sevin. What are you doing here?’

‘Passing through. Give me back my crew and I’ll be on my way.’

‘Impossible. Besides, your gene material may be worth using. And yours.’ He turned to Marik. ‘Put your hand on the touchpad.’

The decoder took a while to make a match and Kroller shook it irritably. When it finally flashed up the reference, Kroller looked shocked. ‘You’re Pol Marik?’

‘What’s it to you?’

Kroller was staring at him almost with reverence. ‘It cannot be, but it is! When I first saw you I wondered and the reader confirms it. You are superb, truly superb, a fantastic specimen. Look, Major Sevin, look what we can achieve!’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Marik, looking concerned.

‘I’m talking about you, Pol Marik, or R-104, to be more precise. You are one of my creations, you were -you are - part of project Regene, one of the precursors to our programme here.’

‘What? No way, pal, you got the wrong guy.’

‘I have not. The K on the end of your ID reference is the signifier. I chose your name when I put you into the community. You were created in a laboratory in the University of Selene in a joint project with the Lyshargen School of Reprogenetics.’

‘You’re crazy! My people would never have done anything with the Gharst.’ Marik looked at Sevin for reassurance. ‘He’s making this up!’

Sevin didn’t know what to think. It was a provenance nobody wanted and he could feel Marik’s distress. He looked around the office and finally into Kroller’s incongruous eyes. He didn’t doubt Kroller had been bullied for his appearance, as a youngster and as an adult. The experience could have caused him to devote the rest of his life to replaceing a solution. Preposterous as it seemed, he might be telling the truth.

‘You’d better explain yourself,’ said Sevin.

Kroller perched on the front of his desk and addressed Marik. ‘You forget that, before the war, there were many business and scientific partnerships between moderate Gharst and the Coalition communities. Your genetic sequencing was chosen and assembled by my team. You were gestated and birthed by a surrogate.’

‘You’re wrong. So, so wrong.’ Marik rolled his eyes at Sevin to underline the lunacy of the statement. ‘I was born and grew up on Escovar. My mother and father, my sister, the whole family was there. After my parents died, my grandparents looked after us.’

Kroller was listening carefully. ‘How old were you when your parents died?’

‘I was fifteen.’

‘They died before you were sixteen?’

‘I just said that!’

‘That explains it. They had to tell you when you were sixteen, who you really were. It was stated in the contract. Until then they were sworn to secrecy. Nobody else would have known. It was the only way we could guarantee a controlled environment with no outside influences – prejudicial or otherwise.’

‘This is rubbish.’

‘Then the war started and we had to leave, return to Rikke. The project was terminated. We were forbidden contact with our Selenian partners and of course we were denied access to the university records and research. We had no way to track you. Then I heard the faculty’s central systems were taken out in the Selene campaign, along with other major facilities.’

‘The Gharst invasion was ultimately repelled,’ Sevin interrupted.

Kroller shrugged.

‘This isn’t right, you’ve got me confused with someone else,’ said Marik.

Kroller sighed. ‘Remember how you were never sick as a child? Brilliant at sports and top of the class, probably without trying. Music, art, languages and maths – nothing was too difficult for you?’

Marik thought hard. ‘I got into Space Academy two years in advance.’

‘Obviously! You can react forty per cent more quickly than the average Escovar or Gharst for that matter. You were born to be a combat pilot.’

Marik said nothing.

‘Do you remember some strange family visiting, perhaps once or twice a year?’

‘No, never.’

‘A couple? A man and woman.’

‘Unless you mean Uncle Heiner and Aunt Rula. They only came once a year. Mum and Dad always seemed to be awkward with them. And then they stopped coming, after the war broke out…’ He stopped talking when he realised the implications of what he was saying.

Sevin didn’t need any more convincing. Envising the turmoil Marik must be feeling, Sevin put a hand on his arm. ’It doesn’t matter who you are or where you’re from, you’re part of the Infinity team now, that’s more important.’

Marik seemed not to hear, looking at Sevin as if he was a stranger.

‘Heiner and Rula? Not their real names, obviously,’ Kroller said, ignoring Sevin’s interruption. ‘They were inspectors, checking to see whether an upbringing in an ordinary family background would override your hereditary proclivities.’

‘What proclivities?’

‘Like my Kuhku here, you have a predisposition to violence. It sometimes manifests as recklessness, a love of danger or speed. You are half-Gharst, Pol Marik, in fact more than half, because all the dominant racial characteristics have been enhanced and the weaker ones eradicated. You may not look it but you have the same bloodline as King Ozur. Actually, you are superior to him, physically at least.’

This last was too much. In a single bound, Marik was by the desk and had seized Kroller by the lapels. He started to shake him violently. The Kuhku sprang forward, weapons ready.

‘Don’t shoot,’ Kroller cried, holding up a hand. ‘On pain of death, don’t kill him!’

‘What have you done? Have you made me a killer? Tell me, you freak!’

Kroller tried to disengage Marik’s hands. ‘It’s hard to say, each genotype was slightly different. There was a range, I suppose, from being merely hot-tempered to full-blown psychosis.’

‘For the love of the gods.’ He released Kroller with a backwards shove.

‘Each genotype?’ said Sevin.

‘There were five. One died in childhood.’

‘And the others?’

‘I don’t know. Like I said, the records are lost. We can’t trace their whereabouts.’

Marik passed a hand over his forehead. ‘There’s more of us out there? Part Gharst, part whatever, odds and ends of a genetic soup, a devil’s spawn!’

‘Hardly! Some of the galaxy’s leading reprogeneticists were involved in your formation. You should be thankful for their interest!’

Marik stared into the distance. ‘Is there is nothing of my parents in me?’

‘Your nurture parents? No, none of their genetic material was used. In fact, I am more your parent than anyone else, seeing that much of my own gene sequencing was the basis for your own.’ Kroller ran an eye over Marik admiringly. ‘I’ve done a great job, even if I say it myself.’

An alarm sounded and a green light started blinking on a monitor on Kroller’s desk. He looked over their heads through the window behind. Sevin followed his gaze to see unconscious patients in blue smocks were being wheeled on gurneys into the theatre where operatives began transferring them on to the beds. They were locked into position by restraints around the torso and each ankle. The operatives split the bottom halves of the beds, drawing the patient’s legs apart. Then they rolled the smocks up above the pelvis, tucking the spare material underneath the small of the back. The patients were all women, naked and shaven.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Sevin.

‘Reovaration.’ Kroller walked forward to the window on the left of the door to survey his empire. Sevin followed, one Kuhku keeping him covered, the other concentrating on Marik who stayed put, staring at the floor. Standing by Kroller’s left shoulder, Sevin watched with increasing concern as the operatives pulled down the overhead probes above each bed and positioned them at an angle between each woman’s parted legs. This had to be the procedure the young scientist in the House had mentioned.

Another gurney passed. Sevin thought he saw Atare laid out on it, her downy head rested on a pillow, eyes closed and unaware of the present danger. He rushed to the window, his hands pressed against the glass. It was her. A blind panic swelled in his chest. He spun around to Kroller.

‘That’s my crew, you can’t use her,’ he blurted out.

‘That one just gone by, the princess? Oh, she’s very interesting, I’ve got something special lined up for her.’

‘You have not!’ Sevin closed his fist but a thump and a cry from behind made them both wheel around. Marik was stooped over the inert body of a Kuhku, disentangling the blaster from his grasp.

‘That’s what happens when you take your eye off the enemy,’ he told the heap on the ground. He straightened up, checking the blaster’s energy level. Then he pointed the gun at Kroller.

‘Put it down!’ said the other Kuhku. He rattled his blaster but he was looking at Kroller, conscious that he was still under orders not to harm Marik.

‘No,’ said Marik, scorching a hole at short range into the Kuhku’s chest. The guard looked surprised and then sank to the floor. Kroller started edging towards the door.

Marik turned the gun on Kroller. ‘Hold it right there, you’re not going anywhere until you’ve stopped this.’

‘What?’

‘This reovaration thing. How d’you stop it?’

Kroller hesitated until Marik burned an outline of his feet in the floor around his shoes.

‘The big red key, on that panel over there,’ he said, pointing at a console furthest from the door on the left.

‘Do it.’

Kroller moved towards the console, his gnarled finger trembling over the button.

‘Go on.’

Kroller pushed the key. Sevin looked into the operations room. The robotic arms continued to manoeuvre into place, lining up for insertion. Then a siren started and Sevin saw a look of triumph on Kroller’s face. He had hit the fire alarm.

‘Rot in hell, you bastard!’ Marik hollered before etching a fatal line graph across Kroller’s lab coat. Kroller gurgled, then stumbled into the workstation, sliding slowly down it into an untidy heap underneath. Marik watched him fall then looked around to see where he could inflict more damage.

‘Marik, stop! We need to get out of here,’ said Sevin. There was a new wildness in the younger man’s expression. Sevin had seen that look many times in combat, particularly on new recruits after their first killing: blood lust which demanded destruction of everything in its path. It shone out of Marik’s eyes now as he swung the blaster like a racket in a ball game, ravaging two more consoles.

‘I’m not finished yet.’ Marik targeted Kroller’s desk, hacking great chunks from it.

Sevin grabbed his shoulder from behind and shook hard. ‘It’s enough, leave it!’

Marik stopped firing, keeping the gun aimed at the desk.

‘Marik, listen to me! The family you grew up with loved you for who you are, not what you are – you know that. Look at yourself, Kroller was right, you are amazing, you do have special gifts. But you’ve chosen to use those gifts for good, to fight against the Gharst, not with them. You’ve chosen another family, the family of freedom and those who believe in it. That is your true heritage, whatever Kroller says.’

Marik shrugged off Sevin’s hand and faced him, the blaster now, intentionally or not, pointed at Sevin.

‘Don’t you ever, ever say a word about this to anyone or, on my life, I’ll kill you.’

’You know me better than that.’ Sevin looked away from him into the theatre. The machines had frozen and the women slumbered on, undisturbed. While Marik distractedly toyed with the blaster, Sevin went to Kroller’s body and searched the pockets of the bloody lab coat. He found the novos undamaged. Slipping one in his ear, he thought the callsign for Infinity. The simulated voice relayed Lauden’s response: ‘Standing by to bring you up.’ Sevin rubbed at his eyes which were stinging from the fumes of melted polypro. Then the siren switched off and he heard a familiar shrieking in its place.

‘Get down!’ he yelled as a volley of pulse shredded the left-hand window of the office.

Marik and he hit the floor simultaneously, face down in the splinters. The screeching paused and Sevin motioned for Marik to get the second Kuhku’s gun and pass it to him. The door had rolled up during the attack and they crept forward to it, sheltering behind the jamb with Marik kneeling and Sevin standing.

‘On my three,’ mouthed Sevin. ‘One, two …’ Together they leaned out of the doorway, ready to rake the enemy. They stopped short. A single woman in red bent over one of the sleepers, a rackarmen in her hand.

‘Lanna?’ said Marik.

‘Marik?’

Before either party put down their arms, a ball of scarlet barrelled though the exterior doors: Hauki with one hand clutching the legs of a woman thrown over her shoulder, the other wielding a rackarmen.

‘Sevin!’ she cried. ‘Don’t shoot, they’re with me.’

‘Hauki!’ He clattered down the steps, Marik on his heels. They met halfway between the office and the beds.

‘Where have you been?’ said Sevin.

‘I’ll tell you later. This is Yolo, she’s wounded.’ Hauki patted the thighs of the woman she carried. ‘We’ve got to get out of here fast. We saw off a few guardians but there’s more coming.’

Sevin was already unfastening the white breakers from around his neck. ‘I’ve got three, Marik’s got two but there’s seven of us. Someone will have to come back with more.’

‘I will,’ said Hauki. ‘Where’s Atare and Xin?’

‘In the beds somewhere,’ said Sevin. ‘There, next to each other.’ He averted his eyes from the humiliating spectacle. ‘You and Marik take them and Yolo up first. The breakers are pre-set, just pull and wait. I’ll stay here with Lanna and wait for you to come back with the extra breakers.’

‘I’ll stay with you,’ said Marik.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to.’

Sevin didn’t argue, relieved to see his colleague back on side. ‘Alright, get the breakers on them. I’ll alert Lauden.’

Hauki found the beds which held Xin and Atare and fitted the breakers. There was no need to undo the leg trammels, although Hauki diplomatically drew the smocks over their thighs. They laid Yolo on an unused gurney and clasped a breaker round her neck. Hauki stood by her side and held her hand as their physical presences trembled then vanished. Atare and Xin also disappeared like a conjuror’s trick, leaving Marik, Lanna and Sevin alone with the dormant women.

‘Security should be here by now,’ said Sevin.

‘We took out four or five coming here,’ said Lanna.

‘That alarm should have raised an army. They’re probably outside now, waiting.’

‘Let’s hide,’ said Marik, taking Lanna by the hand. ‘What about the office?’

‘No real cover. Anyway, if it’s Kuhku, they’ll be able to sense us. We need something we can defend, like that over there. C’mon.’

He ran behind the beds, avoiding looking at the half-naked women, to the steel bunker opposite and up the steps to the airtight hatch in its centre. The manual crank on the hatch wasn’t locked and they piled in. Inside, it was not much larger than Infinity’s flight deck. The air was thick and warm, and the orange glow seemed to pulsate from behind the shelving which lined the back wall. At eye level, petri dishes were carefully stacked on top of each other, each dutifully labelled. Below there were about forty identical opaque boxes which looked like incubators. Out of reach on the top shelf were a dozen bell-jars, all containing human foeti, some grossly contorted.

On each side wall there was a hexagonal cupboard, about a metre in diameter and quite shallow. A transparent door covered a honeycomb of hundreds of holes, each containing a stoppered test-tube with liquid inside. Out of curiosity, Sevin opened the cupboard door and took one out, examining its contents. He returned it hastily when he figured out what it was. The shape of the cupboard gave it away: it was a honeycomb. Inside all those tiny compartments were eggs, Kuhku eggs or whatever other monstrosity Kroller had designed.

A rackarmen screamed behind him. Lanna had also worked out the function of the honeycomb and was systematically scoring through each line of test-tubes on the opposite wall. Their watery contents dribbled out as the exterior cover smashed to the floor.

‘Get rid of them all!’ she said, turning the gun on the hexagon behind Sevin and giving it the same treatment.

‘Hauki’s back!’ yelled Marik.

Through the open hatch, Sevin saw Hauki sheltering behind a bed in the back row ten metres away from the bunker. She sprung up, firing off a barrage towards the theatre’s swing doors, before dropping down behind her cover. Blaster charge sang over her head as she looked around for Sevin and the others.

’Where are you?’ Sevin heard in his ear.

’In the bunker, to your left.’

Hauki turned towards them before leaping up, discharging another volley and crouching down again.

’Looks like solid steel, you won’t be able to teleport out from in there. Get over here while there’s a chance, they’re having problems with the doors.’

’Give us cover.’ Sevin grabbed at Lanna’s arm. ‘Marik, come on, run for it!’

Sevin burst out of the bunker and down the steps first. From his angle, he could see three Kuhku behind the right side of the theatre entrance. They had folded one of the swing doors back against the wall and were blasting off its hinges. They saw him running and opened fire. With the air crackling around him, Sevin gave as good as he got, hitting one Kuhku and making the others jump out of range. A blaster opened up behind him, Marik lending his support from the hatch. Between him and Hauki, Sevin had enough distraction to complete the last few metres unscathed.

He joined Hauki behind the bed. She passed him a breaker which he wrapped around his neck. Pulse cracked over their heads, travelling too close to the sheets which sent up yellow flames. The Kuhku had removed both swing doors and were deluging the theatre with charge from both sides of the entrance.

‘Take the right, I’ll take the left,’ Sevin yelled, targeting the doorway. He turned his head briefly to the bunker to locate Marik. He and Lanna were behind the door jambs, everything else was shot out. Sevin beckoned to them to come across. Marik acknowledged the gesture.

‘Marik’s coming,’ Sevin shouted at Hauki. They heard the blaster kick out from behind them again as Marik ventured out. Sevin concentrated on scything the entrance until he felt Marik flop down behind him.

‘Alright?’ he shouted over his shoulder.

Marik didn’t reply. Sevin glanced around and saw him looking towards the bunker.

‘Lanna’s down!’ he said, pointing at the bale of red lying between them and the steps up to the bunker.

‘I see her,’ said Sevin. A pulse clipped his ear, causing him to shout with pain and refocus on the Kuhku positions.

‘Marik, breaker,’ yelled Hauki, turning around from the onslaught to hold out several of the necklaces.

He took two. ‘I’m going back to get her.’

‘There’s no time, I’ve told Lauden to bring us up,’ Hauki said.

‘I’m going to try.’

‘Yolo didn’t make it, her injuries were too bad. Leave her, she’s got a better chance of staying alive.’

Still fixed on the entrance, Sevin could feel the familiar tingling in his neck. ‘You’ve got ten seconds.’

‘I’m doing it anyway.’ Marik strung the breaker around his neck, grabbed the blaster and lurched out towards Lanna.

‘Cover him while we can!’ Sevin could barely see through the choking smoke, the bed was consumed with fire. He and Hauki covered their mouths with their hands and kept shooting through the conflagration until the breakers pulverised their bodies and spirited them away.

A bolt of charge sheared past Marik’s shin like it had stripped the skin. He didn’t stop, the pins and needles in his neck said the deadline was up. He stumbled the last metre to where Lanna lay, falling to his knees beside her, his hands shaking so much he couldn’t get the breaker around her neck. A pulse hit him in the right shoulder, tipping him into her.

‘Leave me, just leave me,’ she said, trying to push him away.

‘No! Let me get this on, it’s taking us back to the ship right now.’

‘It’s too late.’

‘It’s not. Lanna, Lanna!’ He grabbed her hand as the tremors began to feed down his spine.

‘You were good to me, Pol. Another life, another place …’ A dreamy smile caressed her lips as her eyes closed.

’Lanna!’ Her hand slipped to her side as Marik’s combusted with the rest of him and was drawn upwards through the unending dimensions of time and space to the bright star that was Infinity.

7: SIREN

She collapsed on the circular bed, hands clasped around the back of her head. Her conscious mind was floating, trying to disassociate itself from the pain. It was as if long talons had fastened in her cheeks and a great weight dragged them down, slowly. She wished she had the courage to tear off her face and be done with it once and for all. Moaning, she clutched at the red comforter, too weak to apply the ice packs Corat had left out. There was a solution, she knew, but if she gave in to it, she would lose everything she had gained so far and it would be twice as hard to get back. Rolling over she extracted the small vial from the secret niche in the bed post. She shook it, settling the white powder inside so she could see it was a third full, enough for two days. Just a dab would ease the agony, the whole pot would take it away for ever. It took all of her will to return it to its hiding place. She beat her fists against her head in frustration. She couldn’t afford to give up now. If she was ever going to escape, she had to succeed.

α

‘Four dragons, a pair of flowers and a run of coins.’ Lauden spun around his myjon stave to show his winning hand. There was a chorus of groans.

’I don’t believe it,’ said Atare, displaying her own tiles. ‘Look at that, I was one cup from a full house and you still won. How d’you do it?’

‘Cheating,’ said Xin. ‘It’s the only explanation. Six times in a row, Lauden, you can’t make that happen without assistance.’

‘Ladies, ladies, don’t be bad losers now. It’s little ol’ Lady Luck smiling on me. And my special talent for myjon, ain’t that so, Sevin?’

‘It’s a special talent alright,’ said Sevin, shifting himself into a more comfortable spot on the banquette he shared with Xin. They were sitting at one of the two utility tables in the recreation room. Atare sat opposite them and Lauden had the top spot at the head of the table. Sevin’s participation in the game was limited to observing over Xin’s shoulder.

‘I can see why you didn’t want to play,’ Atare said to Sevin.

Sevin felt himself shrink under her gaze, aware that this was probably their first proper interaction in the two and a half weeks since they’d left Yetenek. Not that he’d been avoiding her especially; he had simply felt happier keeping his distance after those traumatic events. Now, however, he was under scrutiny. He cleared his throat, angry at himself for being so awkward.

‘I’ve never won against him,’ he said, trying to warn her off without spoiling Lauden’s fun.

She didn’t take the hint. ‘His luck can’t hold for ever. I’ll give you one more game, Lauden, I reckon I can break this run.’

‘Alrighty, let’s play with real money, huh? That’ll make it more interesting.’

‘Have you got any?’

‘Some spare change from Delta Nine, I can lend you some.’

‘I’m out,’ said Xin, pushing away her stave. ‘This is getting beyond my level.’

‘I’m in!’ said Atare. ‘The minimum stake is twenty munits.’

‘I like what I’m hearing.’ Lauden grinned and began swirling the tiles around on the tabletop. ‘C’mon then, choose your hand.’

Sevin uneasily watched Atare picking up tiles at random. She looked up, catching his eye.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘If I was you, I’d stop now. You’ll lose all your money. He’ll win again, take my word for it.’

‘Thanks for your concern but really, I’ll be just fine.’

He knew it was useless to argue with her. ‘I’ll leave you to it then. My watch starts in five minutes,’ he said, standing up.

‘I’ve got some work to do, I’ll come with you,’ said Xin. ‘And I can’t bear to watch.’

‘You’ll be missing out,’ said Atare, arranging the tiles on her stave. ‘Prepare yourself for defeat, Lauden, this is a brilliant hand.’

Lauden’s chuckle accompanied Sevin and Xin all the way out of the rec.

‘I did try and warn her,’ Sevin said when they reached the corridor which divided the rec from the mezzanine level of the bridge.

‘About what? That Lauden was cheating?’ said Xin, stopping by the core staircase.

‘Not exactly. You know he’s got a kind of a gift for numbers, Savant syndrome?’

‘Then she’s at a significant disadvantage.’

‘Yes – and completely ignores my advice to pull out!’

‘Yes, well, she’s like you, Sevin, can’t resist a challenge.’ With a knowing smile, Xin disappeared down the stairs before he could respond. Alone in the corridor, he was thinking over what she meant when the alarm on his timepiece pinged, reminding him that he was required elsewhere. He strode through the iris, past the briefing table and hurried down the steps to the flight deck where Marik was, for once, properly strapped into the pilot seat and absorbed in flying the ship.

‘I’ll take over now,’ said Sevin.

Marik looked around, startled. ‘I didn’t notice you there. Is it time already?’

‘I am ready to relieve you.’

‘I am ready to be relieved!’ Marik unbelted himself and stood up, letting Sevin take his place.

‘What’s our location?’

’Slap bang in the middle of section 12, sector 6. We should cross into sector 11 in the next eighty-three standard hours.

‘How long to the nexus loco?’

‘Three weeks, twenty hours and forty-four minutes give or take a few seconds.’

‘And how long till the nexus opens?’

‘Three weeks, four days and ten hours.’

‘So we’ve a few days in hand, seems easy enough,’ Sevin said, examining the course plotted on the main viewer.

‘And there’s not much out there to run into, only Serrozzi,’ said Marik, pointing to the sprinkle of dots between their location and the Rikke system.

‘Is that where Galeita is?’

‘Yeah, the Psi-Tech installation, where they make the morphs. All the other planets are uninhabited.’

‘I don’t want to go too close.’

‘That means taking a longer route, it’s dead ahead. You sure we need to? It’s just freight going in and out, there shouldn’t be any trouble.’

‘You don’t know, the Gharst are big buyers. Remember Gridon? The last thing we need is an encounter with a troop ship of Nightwatch.’

‘Alright, we’ll keep out of the way then, like here?’

As Marik traced a course around Serrozzi, Infinity seemed to pause in her headway, then recover and carry on. A row of red lights flashed on the power input regulators.

‘What’s going on?’ said Marik, looking over Sevin’s shoulder.

‘The main drive’s shut down, we’re on auxiliaries. Switching to manual, maintaining course.’ He hit the infinicom. ‘Xin, what’s happening?’

Her voice crackled through the amplifier. ‘The main drive’s down.’

‘We know. Why?’

‘I’m not sure. Maybe some of the capacitors in one of the engine control units have blown through. I’m investigating the data logger now.’

‘Can you fix it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How far can we get on the auxiliary drives?’

‘Anywhere we want, it’ll just take twice as long.’

Sevin sighed. ‘See what you can do.’ He clicked the infinicom off and turned to Marik. ‘You think Psi-Tech’s got a yard?’

‘They must do. They’ve got their own fleet, eh? Gods know there’s enough deliveries coming through as well.’

‘We might have to make a layover. Get over there and do a search on Galeita and Psi-Tech while I steer.’

‘Wilco.’ Marik sat at Hauki’s desk and loaded up the request. He browsed the results.

‘Here we go, everything we ever wanted to know about Psi-Tech. It’s the leading morph manufacturer, the most successful model is the CX 28000 series, a domestic biomorph designed to assist with housework and care duties…’

‘We know that,’ interrupted Sevin.

‘Yeah, yeah. There’s more on the morphs, blah blah blah. Okay, corporate headquarters are located in Pramis, Selene and there is a major plant on Galeita. It’s majority owned and managed by Falkon Voyov, 56, formerly of Pramis, Selene. He’s one of the top ten wealthiest people in the Known Worlds with an estimated personal fortune of, grut me, seventy billion munits.’

‘Blood money. He makes guns as well as morphs. He’s made millions on the back of selling weapons to the Gharst. Technically, he’s our enemy.’

‘Shame, he’d make a treffo ally. Listen to this, Psi-Tech shipped over two million morphs last financial year on a turnover of fifty-five billion munits. I mean, he could buy the entire Rikke system!’

‘What about a yard?’

‘Er, yeah, Psi-Tech has its own fleet based on Galeita.’

‘Good. Anything else?’

‘There’s some family details. Wife died about eighteen years ago, he never remarried. There’s one daughter aged 27, Sabasha. A recluse, it says here.’

‘Wouldn’t you be?’

The infinicom bleeped. Sevin answered it.

‘We’ve retrieved the malfunction data,’ said Xin’s voice.

‘So what’s wrong?’

‘As I thought, it’s the capacitors in one ECU. All twelve of them are burnt out.’

‘All twelve? Can it be fixed?’

‘If we had more spares. We’ve only got two.’

‘You can’t make do?’

‘We could block off the ECU, but then the main drive functions at fifty per cent.’

‘That’s not good enough.’

‘No, we need full power to jump another nexus.’

‘Agreed. There’s a yard at Galeita. Are they likely to have spares?’

’Not the exact same, no. The Infinity ones were specially made. But,’ she added, hearing his mumbled expletive, ‘I could adapt the conventional type if we can obtain them.’

‘We’ll stop in at Galeita. Patch it up so we can get there, then come to the bridge.’ Sevin clicked off the infinicom and looked up at the forecam in the bow which had zoomed in on a small, green planet orbited by three moons. Beyond was the smelted orange ball of its sun, the yellow dwarf star, Serrozzi, behind which the unoccupied planets lurked as grey spots.

Sevin regarded the screen with distaste. He hated asking favours, and from an enemy to boot. But if they were going to meet the nexus on time, it had to be done.

‘Setting a course for Galeita,’ he told Marik. ‘Let’s hope Mr Voyov’s at home.’

β

Two hours later, the crew was in position on the flight deck, ready for the approach to Galeita. On the borders of the planet’s controlled airspace, they could see distinct areas of water and land on its surface. The factory premises were visible from Infinity’s position: a rash of grey carbuncles sprouting through the verdancy of a heart-shaped continent in the southern hemisphere. A trio of cargo ships was clearing the planet’s atmosphere as they watched.

‘Are they Gharst?’ Sevin asked Lauden at the scanners behind him.

‘Nope, Psi-Tech freight bound for Borredan. Ain’t no gribs in the vicinity, I checked.’

‘Passing into Galeitan territory now,’ said Hauki.

‘Marik, go into orbit,’ said Sevin.

As the pilot released the controls, all the viewers on the flight deck flickered and went blank, including the forecam. They rebooted to show an avassador, a smiling young Tian woman in black businesswear. ‘You are now entering the Galeita Facility of Psi-Tech Corporation,’ she said in Standard, extending both hands in a gesture of hospitality. ‘Welcome to Psi-Tech. Always with you in mind.’

She faded out and was replaced with a stream featuring a well-dressed man relaxing on a leather armchair with waitmorphs on either side offering him drinks and delicacies. Then the picture changed to dommies cleaning a house while a dark woman watched totavision.

‘Can you turn this scrit off?’ Marik called back to Xin. ‘It’s interfering with the command relay.’

‘I can’t,’ Xin said. ‘It’s overriding the spam-spurners. Lauden?’

‘No sirree, can’t do nothing. Hold up a sec, they’re hailing us.’

‘Put it through to me,’ said Sevin.

The avassador appeared in his viewer as a holocom. ‘Good afternoon and welcome to Psi-Tech Corporation,’ she said. ‘Please state your business.’

’This is Infinity. We are disabled and require parts.’

’Welcome, Infinity. Please wait for a moment while we check your identification.’ The screens turned white with an icon of a turning dial, then she returned with a high amplitude smile. ‘You are cleared for security. Transferring you to Mr Voyov. Enjoy your day.’

‘Going straight to the top?’ said Hauki. ‘We must be important.’

‘Or a target,’ said Sevin. He was interrupted by the holocom which burst from his viewer. It was a 3D image of a man in his mid-fifties with shoulder-length gunmetal hair swept back from a gaunt face. He wore a frock-coat of plum velvet over a white shirt with a cravat of pale gold intricately knotted around its stiff, high collar. He began speaking in Standard but with the hard vowels of the Selene accent.

’Greetings, Infinity. I am Falkon Voyov, chief executive of Psi-Tech Corporation. Welcome to our home. I am addressing the captain?’

‘You are,’ said Sevin.

‘Then you are Major Tem Sevin of Coalition Space Command.’ Voyov’s green eyes roamed about as if they were drunken dance partners, neither one capable of following the other.

‘Formerly, yes.’

He beamed. ‘I have read so much about you, Major. You are almost as famous as me. Ha-ha, ha-ha!’ He choked out a couple of spluttering laughs before patting his chest with two right hands, each with its own forearm and individual sleeve branching from the one elbow of his right arm.

Sevin decided to dispense with the pleasantries. ‘One of our ECUs is damaged and we need to replace the capacitors. Do you have spares we can purchase?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Voyov flapped a single hand impatiently. ‘I’ve asked Repair & Maintenance to look some out already. Come down and get them, we’ll have dinner and you can stay over. Bring everyone on board, there’s plenty of accommodation.’

‘Thank you,’ said Sevin, surprised by the offer, then hesitant. ‘Will we be your only guests for dinner?’

Voyov broke into laughter. ‘There are no Gharst here, Major, you will be quite safe! I won’t ask about your business out here either. Progress your ship to the visitor docks on the southern side of the freight terminal, Traffic Control will see you in. I’ll organise transportation to bring you to the Castle. Until then!’ With a double-handed wave he was gone.

Hauki turned to Sevin. ‘It sounded like he knew what was wrong with our engine before we told him.’

‘He must have run a scan.’

‘At this range? We’re barely within reach of teleport.’

‘Who knows what kit he’s got down there?’

‘I hope he’s got cooking kit,’ said Lauden. ‘What’s he gonna make for us? Guess he’s pretty handy in the kitchen! Hey, handy, y’know?’ He chortled at his own joke.

Hauki frowned at him. ‘It could be dangerous, we should take precautions.’

‘We need those parts, dinner or not. I’ll go down,’ Sevin said. ‘Xin, you’d better come with me, check we’ve got the right thing. You could also get a couple more morphs while we’re there. Anyone else?’

‘I’ll stay up here,’ said Atare. ‘I can get the ECU ready.’

‘Good,’ said Sevin, not wanting a rerun of Yetenek. ‘Marik, Lauden?’

‘I’ve had enough excitement for a while, I’ll keep an eye on things up here with Atare,’ said Marik without any hint of impropriety. Atare looked relieved.

‘Lauden?’ asked Sevin.

‘I don’t mind, I’ll go with ya.’

‘Me too, you might need support,’ said Hauki.

‘Get ready then,’ said Sevin. ‘Marik, you’re in command. Stay outside Galeita airspace but within fifty thousand linials in case we need to teleport back at any time. Remember that if anything goes wrong, you will protect the ship …’

‘First and foremost. Crew safety is my second priority,’ he finished.

’Precisely. Now listen, I don’t want to bring the ship into port, it’s too risky. We’ll teleport instead. We’ll be earlier than Voyov is expecting; we can replace out if he’s preparing anything for us other than dinner. Breakers and novos everyone, we’ll leave in fifteen minutes.’

γ

The teleport set them down on a gravelled path in the middle of formal gardens, several hundred metres from the raised terrace on which sat Falkon Voyov’s home, the Castle Elysia. More like a rare plant than a building, the green bio-pyramid looked to be a complete organic system, breathing and growing and blooming like any other tree or bush, dwarfing the surrounding woodland. Its walls, or the facets of the pyramid, were smooth and green like a stalk. They sprouted broad leaves about two metres long which were curled like a cup, as if devised to collect rainwater. Strung like garlands between the stems were flowering vines of pink and white which swayed in the breeze.

‘Crazy joint,’ said Lauden, scanning for snipers.

‘Let’s go in.’ Sevin set off at his normal pace, stopping when he realised the effort had propelled him way ahead of the others: the weak gravity was speeding his progress. He waited for them to catch up and they crunched past neat flower beds to a white marble staircase of twelve steps with carved banisters which lead up to the terrace. They stopped at the top in amazement. The courtyard, which extended fifty metres between themselves and the castle, was a lake of black ice. Xin bent down to touch it. She stood up looking intrigued. ‘I think it’s diamond,’ she said.

‘Wowsa,’ said Lauden, turning around. The view to the south was also lovely. Beyond the strict design of the gardens, parkland dotted with fragrant cedars and cassix rolled for a few kilometres towards a chase of trees which ran south to northeast, concealing all but the roofs of the morph factories and the space port five kilometres away. Over it all hung a pale yellow sun in a purplish sky, bringing a spring warmth and freshness to the sylvan scene.

As they began to cross the crystal courtyard, the outline of a portcullis materialised on the pyramid’s façade. It slid upwards, revealing a gloomy opening beneath through which Sevin led the team into an amber-lit atrium where Falkon Voyov stood with all his hands extended.

‘Welcome to Elysia,’ he said. ‘I must admit, I was expecting you a little later. No matter, we have more time to look around.’

From the holocom, Sevin had assumed Voyov was his height or taller. As he approached the billionaire industrialist, he realised Voyov stood well below his shoulders. Wearing the same plum-frock coat as on the holocom, Voyov held out both his right hands for Sevin to shake, the slightest glimmer of mischief in his eye. Sevin hesitated, figuring this was a point of etiquette he would be judged on: would he shake both hands or just one, and if so, which one? He didn’t know the answer so he touched his right hand to his hairline instead in the Coalition salute.

‘Thank you for inviting us,’ he said. ‘Your home is very beautiful.’

Voyov returned the salute, amused by the way which Sevin had circumvented his test. ‘We are very fortunate. Now please, who are your friends?’

Sevin let the others introduce themselves while he looked around. On three sides of the atrium, counters made of tree bark seemed to be growing out of the walls. Sevin shifted his weight from one leg to the other, surprised by the depth of the carpet’s pile until he saw it was grass. With the dim light and the rich air, they could have been inside a bag of compost. Two black-suited staff sat behind each counter, quietly working at blue hazes which Sevin presumed were viewers. Above the atrium were stacked three progressively narrower galleries which finished in a square window, the flattened apex of the pyramid. Through it, puffy clouds could be seen scudding across the violet sky, their movement triggering synchronised colour patterns which undulated across the interior walls like sunlight dancing on water. The effect was calming and serene.

‘So you teleported?’ he heard Voyov say. ‘How very interesting! I heard the technology existed but I’ve never seen it in action. You must tell me how it works, Chief Engineer Xin Xiaoli, you and I have much to discuss over dinner.’ He paused, clasping all three hands together. ‘Well now, what time is it? Ah, I suppose you’re all on GST. All the same, it is a little early to be eating. Perhaps you would like to have a look around our factories?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Xin. ‘I would love to see the assembly process.’

Voyov’s face grew serious. ‘There are some places you cannot go, trade secrets and so forth. We are working on some very exciting new projects at the moment which we don’t want to go public.’

‘We will be guided by you,’ she said.

‘Very good. I will arrange for our operations director, Stanross Derry, to show you around. When you return, your rooms will be ready and you can prepare for dinner. Perhaps you will accept some fresh clothes?’ His eyes flicked over the stains decorating the chest of Lauden’s flightsuit.

‘Thank you,’ said Sevin, conscious that his own outfit was shabby. ‘We also need those capacitors.’

‘Naturally.’ Voyov walked to the closest counter and spoke urgently to the female staffer behind it. He returned to the group.

‘Don’t worry, Major Sevin, you will have your spare parts. You can pick them up at the desk after your tour. Please follow me.’

He led them back through the portcullis to the courtyard where four airbikes hovered a couple of metres above the glistering ground. They were painted with the gold and lavender livery of the Psi-Tech corporate colours.

‘Velos!’ said Lauden. ‘I ain’t see those since before the war. How fast do they go?’

‘These run to a set course, you will replace,’ Voyov said. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do. The velos will return you to the castle after the tour and I will see you at dinner.’

As he turned to leave, the piercing treble of a woman’s scream shattered the late afternoon tranquillity, followed by ululating howls. They seemed to be coming from a glade of trees about half a kilometre to the east where a white dome jutted above the canopy.

‘What’s that?’ asked Hauki, looking to Voyov for explanation.

‘Oh, it’s feeding time! We keep a few wild animals in the Sanctuary over there,’ he indicated the white dome, ‘mainly horaxes and phelps which Sabasha, my daughter, has found injured in the forest.’ He sighed. ‘She seems to get on better with creatures than people. Now, farewell until dinner. Enjoy your day!’

He scurried back inside the castle, the portal guillotining shut behind him. Lauden clambered on to an idling velo and revved the throttle.

‘This is like so much fun,’ he grinned, slamming the engine into forward. ‘Up, up an’ away!’

The velo levitated to almost the height of the pyramid and took off in the direction of the factory. Sevin got on his own velo, which switched to auto as soon as it detected his weight on the seat, and flew after Lauden. The same avassador who had greeted them on the approach to Galeita manifested on the viewer in the middle of the steering bar. Sevin listened to her running commentary through wireless earplugs he found in a special tray attached to the side of the viewer.

‘Psi-Tech Corporation began life in the city of Pramis, Selene in 3003, when our founding father, Viktor Voyov, started a company to make rivets for industrial cleaning robots,’ she said. ‘Viktor, the grandfather of our current CEO, Falkon Voyov, realised such robots could be applied on a smaller scale – in the home. Thus the Psi-Tech Mark 1 Domestic Morph was born. It was an overnight success and has maintained its popularity ever since. The familiar “dommie” seen in every well-kept house today is the direct descendant of that first model.’

They were flying over the forest, a few metres above the treetops. The air was cooler at this height, the weak sun quivering on the western horizon. Sevin looked to his right. Hauki hadn’t bothered with the corporate history and was letting the wind ruffle through her hair with her eyes closed. On his left, Xin concentrated on her viewer, unaware of any motion other than the avassador’s gestures.

‘When Viktor retired, his son Egor took control of the company,’ the digital guide continued. ‘Under his careful stewardship, Psi-Tech continued to refine the existing model and create new applications for it, entering the security, catering and agricultural industries where morphs are now widely used.’ Images of old-fashioned morphs tilling fields and serving drinks flitted over the viewer.

‘With such a successful product, other companies have naturally joined our industry. Competition, however, has only served to strengthen our enterprise and we welcome it.’ A picture of Voyov taken in his younger years flipped up. ‘The current chief executive, Falkon Voyov, has continued the family tradition of innovative advancement by strengthening Psi-Tech’s research and development capability. Keris Bly,’ the picture changed to one of a slim pale woman with fair hair, ‘joined the company in 3064, eventually taking over as director of research last year. In that time, the work of her team has ensured consistent improvements across our entire range, positioning the Psi-Tech biomorph as the leading robotic assistant in the market today. Whether you require the Caring, the Companion or the Comfort model, Psi-Tech has the helper for you. Psi-Tech. Always with you in mind.’

Bored by the propaganda, Sevin’s attention had drifted to the passing scenery. They were gliding over the lavender roofs of the factory complex. The velos banked, turning right towards a large hangar in the distance and began to descend to its forecourt where Lauden waited.

‘You took your time!’ Lauden joked as they dismounted.

‘We had to view the whole presentation,’ said Xin, adjusting a hairpin which had come adrift during the ride. ‘Is this it?’

She nodded at the gigantic drab shed in front of them. It had three levels, the top storey was devoid of windows. There were flower pots in the porch and a coat of red paint had been slapped on the sliding autodoor in a half-hearted attempt to cheer the place up. ‘Grand Assembly Hall’ was picked out in black letters on the large sign nailed over the entrance.

‘Looks like it. Was someone going to meet us?’ said Hauki.

‘Let’s go in anyway,’ said Sevin, jabbing at the open button on the autodoor.

‘It’s blue then red,’ shouted a gruff voice from above. Sevin pressed the right configuration to make the doors judder apart. From behind them emerged a man with matted ginger hair who was shielding his face from the mellow tones of the sunset. Standing straight, he would have been two metres tall but a hunched back stooped him to the shoulder level of his true height. One of his watering eyes was half-closed in a permanent squint, the other surveyed his visitors balefully.

‘Stanross Derry?’ Sevin asked.

‘Who else?’ lisped the apparition. ‘Mr Voyov sent you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ll be wanting the tour then, this way.’

They followed the hunchback through a small reception into the vast cavern of the factory. There was no light other than from the small windows, so they peered at the operations from the side of a large conveyor belt which ferried shiny black thoraxes to a fitting station. With a start, Sevin recognised them as a major component of the Nightwatch morphs he had fought on Gridon. Long-armed machines set each torso upright and bolted arms and legs into the empty sockets, then placed them into specially designed seats on another belt which carried them out of view.

‘We’re starting at the end,’ said Derry. ‘Parts are made upstairs then passed down here for assembly. They get their heads next door.’

‘Why’s it so dark?’ asked Lauden.

‘Machines got no eyes! There’s no need for light, so they say.’ He stomped off towards an adjoining room and they followed hastily, not wanting to be left alone with the nascent morphs. The next section, where they saw the morphs’ heads being fixed to the bodies, was more sinister.

‘They’re complete now, it’s like they could get up and shoot us at any time,’ said Hauki, nervously observing the blaster arms.

Derry took them to the end of the production line where each morph was tested by grey-suited examiners before being packed into a padded crate and dispatched. This part of the factory was better lit. Xin stood by the static-faced checker as he tested a new morph’s power source. The Nightwatch’s fuel cell, constantly topped up by energy captured by its photosimilating coating, was accessed under the arm, making the morph more difficult for enemies to disable.

‘Is that a morph also?’ Xin asked Derry, pointing at the examiner.

‘Yes, the morphs make more morphs, like they can breed.’ He laughed nastily.

‘Are there any humans working here?’

‘Just me. Not that I get any special treatment, of course. Little more than a machine myself, I am,’ he sniffed.

‘You run the entire factory by yourself?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s all controlled centrally?’

‘Yes, from my office at the back. But Mr Voyov can supervise from any point on the complex.’

‘What happens if you get sick or go on holiday?’

‘Ha! No holiday for the likes of us.’ His good eye regarded Xin with indifference. ‘That’s the end of the tour down here. You’re to go upstairs and meet Keris now. She’s human. Well, almost.’

Taking a side exit, they scaled the stairs to the top floor, Sevin bringing up the rear. A flicker on the edge of his vision made him pause on the first step. He looked over his shoulder, feeling he was being followed. There was no-one there. He took a few more steps then stopped, convinced someone was watching. They weren’t. He put it down to being spooked by the assembly line and carried on.

On the top landing, it was a different world: spacious and sanitised with plenty of natural light flooding through a polypro roof. The workspace was divided by into smaller hutches, each populated by technicians in white overalls. Some sat at benches, fitting minute wires into circuit boards. Others scrutinised microscopes and jotted data into digis. In another room, masked and goggled figures with scalpels and probes bent over a lump draped with waterproof sheeting.

A willowy woman in a lab coat swung out of one of the hutches. Her strawberry-blond hair was long and seemed to float behind her as she moved.

‘The visitors,’ she smiled faintly, shaking everyone’s hand with a touch so gentle it was barely there. Her eyes were the colour of mist and as opaque. ‘I’m Keris Bly, head of research. I take it Derry’s shown you around downstairs?’

‘Of course,’ Derry said. ‘All around, just like he said.’

‘Good, good. We don’t want to displease Mr Voyov, do we?’ She fixed Derry with an icy stare. He hoicked up a yellow blob of phlegm which made landfall close to her delicate foot, then lolloped back to the tenebrous depths of his den.

‘You must forgive my colleague, he lacks social graces,’ she said. ‘He is a superlative manager nonetheless. Anyway, as you can see, life is rather different up here. What can I show you?’

‘Whatever you’re working on,’ said Xin. ‘And if there’s time, I’d like to ask you about visual recognition patterns. It’s a problem I’ve been having with our own morphs.’

‘Of course, come this way.’

Lauden stifled a yawn. ‘Can I wait downstairs?’ he whispered to Sevin. ‘I’d like to get a look at that velo now it’s on the ground.’

Sevin gave his assent. As Lauden left, he decided his own time would be better spent playing with the velos rather than learning advanced robotics. But the opportunity to escape had passed so he tailed after the women. They passed a corridor leading off to the right, at the bottom of which was an unmarked red door.

It took just a second for Sevin to slip down the passageway and try the handle. It was locked. He rattled it hard and an alarm sounded, red lamps flashing either side of the door. Quickly he ran back to the junction with the main thoroughfare and sauntered around the corner, following the direction the others had taken. He caught up with them inside one of the hutches where Keris was explaining what looked like a target replaceer. Xin was listening intently while Hauki’s face was a mask of polite interest.

‘There you are, Sevin,’ said Keris. ‘We wondered where you’d gone.’

‘So did I. I got lost somehow, got stuck in a dead end with a red door.’ He watched for her reaction.

‘Red door?’ She pronounced the words like a deadly curse. ‘That’s Mr Voyov’s private laboratory. You didn’t go in, did you?’

‘It was locked.’

‘Thank goodness. I mean … well, Mr Voyov is very protective of his workspace. No-one’s allowed in, absolutely no-one. He’s obsessed with security, you understand, terrified that someone will steal his ideas. We all have to …’

She stopped as a siren started pealing in the corridor outside. Sevin thought he might have set it off with his attempt on Voyov’s lab until he realised it was a different sound.

‘What’s that? A fire alarm?’ asked Hauki.

‘No, no.’ Keris appeared calm. ‘It means there’s been an interruption. It’s alright, they’ll deal with it.’

‘An interruption?’ asked Hauki.

Keris’ faraway eyes turned to her. ‘Sometimes the morphs malfunction and need to be restrained until they can be reconfigured.’

‘By other morphs?’ From the window of the hutch, Sevin saw a group of Nightwatch hurrying towards the forest. ‘That’s a lot to entrust to artificial intelligence.’

‘Yes, but it is possible. The system is incredible, it’s entirely self-regulating. We needn’t be here at all.’

‘So why are you here?’ said Sevin. ‘If you’re so unnecessary, why do you stick around this isolated planet?’

‘Well, I …er,’ she flustered. ‘That’s a good question. Of course there’s still so much research to be done. We can always improve on what we’re doing. It’s like, um, like as Mr Voyov would say: “Our work is our life”. It brings its own compensations.’ She appeared to catch sight of her timepiece. ‘Goodness, look at the time! That’s probably going to be all I can show you today, you’d better be getting back to the castle. Mr Voyov wouldn’t want you to be late for dinner!’

They didn’t take much urging. She accompanied them to the staircase and stood at the landing with her arms crossed as they descended, as if she wanted to be sure they had really gone.

‘Are there any humans on this planet?’ Hauki said as they left the factory. The assembly line was still in motion but its crippled guardian had disappeared.

‘If there are any more like the ones we’ve met, I’ll stick with the machines,’ said Xin as they rejoined Lauden and the velos in the forecourt.

For once, Sevin could only agree with her.

δ

The velos flew them back to the castle in the gathering dusk. Illuminated from within, Elysia appeared like a glowing emerald cushioned with inky copses. One of Galeita’s three moons had risen in the indigo sky, a titanium disc which spilled its reflection in the loch which lay behind the castle.

On their return, an entourage of staff met them in the courtyard with lanterns and took them to their rooms on the third floor. Sevin’s accommodation was furnished with a double bed and an optional window on to the lake which extended out of the greenery when required. Laid out on the cotton sheets were a thirty-pack of the pencil-sized capacitors they needed, as well as a matching black jacket and pair of trousers in the softest, finest wool he had ever had the fortune to feel.

He bathed and shaved, enjoying the hot water and the sensation of deep cleansing which the Infinity steamers could never reproduce. When he was dressed in the suit and a new white shirt, he contemplated himself in a full-length mirror. He was not a handsome man, he knew. He was too slim, only average height and too blunt-featured to be considered attractive. Still, he could be smart and the suit was a perfect fit. As he admired himself, he couldn’t help feeling pleased with events so far. They had achieved their mission. He was anticipating a decent meal which he might actually enjoy, even if the company was eccentric. Then his rational self took over: he was eating with an arms dealer, it shouldn’t be fun. He felt for the breaker through the linen shirt, gave himself a sardonic smile and vacated the room.

As soon as he arrived in the atrium, a young staffer rushed up to him. ‘Major Sevin! Mr Voyov is waiting for you in the Underlake. This way, please.’ He hurried Sevin through concealed doors at the rear of the atrium and out to the lawns and hedges of the back gardens, passing a stone statue of a goddess accompanied by two cherubs. The evening was balmy and the heady perfume of exotic flowers assailed him as he followed the staffer down a winding pathway lit by flaming torches. With the lessened gravity, Sevin felt he was walking on air.

They reached a pair of summerhouses on the lake’s shore, white octagonal follies with upturned roofs of verdigris. Candlelight danced on the window sills and in niches by the entrance. The staffer motioned that Sevin should go inside one and take the elevator to the basement. He did so, stepping out into a large area intimately lit by blue lamps. At a central bar, Lauden stood talking with Xin and Hauki who were sitting on cream-and-chrome high stools. He walked over to join them, standing by Hauki who handed him a glass of clear liquid. Her eyes were sparkling.

‘Here’s a drenna for you, straight up,’ she said. ‘Makes a nice change from the rec, doesn’t it? Have you seen up there?’

He looked up at the transparent skin between them and the lake. Spotlights illuminated shoals of fish which wafted in the gentle currents. From time to time, a larger creature pressed its nose against the glass.

‘Amazing place,’ he agreed, looking around his crew who had also benefited from Voyov’s sartorial generosity. He passed the capacitors to Xin with a brief nod, impressed by her appearance. She wore a traditional Tian tunic in emerald silk with knotted fastenings along the shoulder. With her hair piled on top of her head, she was as sophisticated as any castle’s mistress. Lauden looked relaxed in dark trousers and a patterned shirt in shades of blue. The real triumph was Hauki. A boned dress in gold had given shape to her stocky body, the metallic fabric setting off her olive skin.

‘You look great,’ he told her.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ She smiled shyly. ‘Mr Voyov gives good hospitality.’

‘If he wasn’t an arms dealer, I’d feel happier about accepting it.’

‘Hmm,’ said Hauki, looking past him. ‘Incoming, watch what you say.’

Sevin felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Keris, more ethereal than ever in a diaphanous ballgown. She was accompanied by Derry in a formal suit of hideous brown.

‘Good evening everyone, would you like to follow me?’ she said. ‘Mr Voyov’s waiting for us in the Crystal Rooms.’

She didn’t know what was worse, the anger or the agony. On balance it was the anger, anger at herself for making a mistake, letting herself be caught in the factory. She knew every corridor and exit from her visits to Stanross. The grumpy hunchback felt sorry for her, making her cha, telling her gossip and letting her use the grid in his office in the hours when the humans were asleep. She had come to trust him, even though he couldn’t help her. She should have been more careful. Not even Stanross could get her out of this. Her dose would be cut for punishment, just as she was at her absolute lowest having spent the last week on half her daily entitlement. But she had to monitor the four strangers, it was essential.

She had seen them arrive, materialising in the flower beds, it was almost comic. She had started laughing before she saw them clutching at their white necklaces and guessed they were using teleportation. She studied them through a binoscope as they picked their way across the garden. They wore pearlised jackets with dark trousers, like a uniform. With a skip of her heart, she realised they must have come from a ship. From the way the others moved around him, she assumed the shorter man was their leader. She dwelt on his features. Stony was her first impression, and behind it something sad. The women looked hard although the Tarangan perhaps had a motherly aspect. The fat man seemed particularly slow. So it was the leader, she thought. He was the one. He was Plan A.