Authors: Horizons
“You can have the cripple.” Her half-twin shrugged. “I take it that this is your ‘no’ to my offer?” He tried to mask his icy rage with a smile. “You are a fool. I don’t need you.”
“Perhaps.” She met his stare, closed off, letting his anger beat against her.
“Ugly, that cripple.” He shivered with distaste. “I won’t even ask how you came to assume that debt, little sister, but it’s an expensive one.” He smiled, sure that he had won now, gestured with his chin.
“Your creature is in there.”
The suite had a second bedroom. Inside, Koi lay on the smart-foam mattress, his eyes glassy, wrists and ankles bound with wide plastic strips. His ribs jutted against his skin with each labored breath and his skin was too cool, clammy to the touch. Shock?
“What happened to him, anyway?” Her brother looked over her shoulder, his distaste dank in the room.
“Radiation? Disease?” ‘
“Yes.” Ahni bent over Koi, touching his face, wondering about brain damage, spontaneous hemorrhage.
She released the restraints, wrapped the light thermal sheet around him and scooped him into arms. He weighed little, like an infant, as if his long bones were hollow, filled with air.
“Li Zhen will not be happy with me. I think he wants it for a pet.”
She shrugged and started for the door.
“The file?”
She reached into her pocket, handed him the data sphere.
”You are a fool.” Xai pocketed it.
The door slid open and she walked out into the corridor. The dogs were back at the mahjong board.
They looked up as she walked by, stood and paid their bill.
Dane fell in beside her. “Take him.” She thrust Koi’s body at him. “They’re after me, not you.” They’d try a dart or a needle.
“Stay close to me.” Dane took Koi’s fragile body from her. “Don’t try to run.” People passed them: service staff, mostly local residents judging by their slender musculature. A small group of natives burst from a doorway, laughing and talking. Someone shouted angrily. A voice rose. Ahni glanced over her shoulder to find the group faced off with the Dragon Home dogs, voices raised accus-ingly.
“This way,” Dane snapped, and she followed him into a side corridor. He slapped a lock plate awkwardly, and the door to a small, private elevator opened.
“How did you do that?” Ahni gasped as the elevator shot upward.
“I do favors for people,” Dane said absently, his fingers probing Koi’s unconscious form gently. “They do me favors in return.” As they reached the bright, stunning heart of the orbital, Koi stirred and whimpered.
“I couldn’t breathe,” he panted. “They hurt me.” A trace of blood gleamed at the corner of his mouth, and Dane rocketed away with him. Ahni followed, barely able to keep up. Koi’s family flanked them on all sides, darting shadows among the greenery. She counted fifteen, maybe sixteen, sensed curiosity. No worry, no fear, just … curiosity. A breeding population, enough, but not too many. Changing. Shifting into … what?
Dane took Koi into the control center. She followed, found a bright visitor access with padded chairs with microG straps, gleaming surfaces, machines, screens, data storage tanks. A small med-center took up one end of the space. Koi whimpered as Dane closed the unit around him, and Dane hovered over him, murmuring soothingly. She kept well back, watching him as he touched control screens, frowned, touched others. Koi whimpered again, and Dane drifted above him, his hands on the boy’s face until he finally quieted.
At last Dane pushed himself away from the matte gray, coffin shape of the med unit. Koi’s eyes were slitted, glassy with drugs.
“Is he going to be okay?” Ahni prodded herself closer.
“Some broken bones, minor internal damage. They weren’t gentle.” He touched Koi’s cheek lightly.
“He’s in enhanced healing now. He should recover.” Relief gleamed quicksilver behind his reserve. “You gave him that data sphere?”
“Yes.”
“That was your ticket downside.”
Ahni met his eyes, hesitated, not sure she could put it into words. “I … brought our war up here,” she said at last. “Thinking this was just another high rise. But you’re right. This is not Earth. Our war does not belong here. And I … believe you about Koi and his family.” She bowed her head fractionally. “Li Zhen, Chairman of Dragon Home saw Koi and wanted him. My brother only saw a crippled child.”
“Li Zhen?” Dane said slowly. “What was
he
doing here?”
“I don’t know.” She looked away. “I need to go back to Earth.”
“I can give you a ride to one of the Elevators - a backdoor ride that your brother can’t track.”
Which just might get her downside in one piece. “Thank you,” she said.
-“If you ever need a place to go, this place is … more protected than it seems.” He smiled. ”You’re welcome to come back.”
It had the feel of a royal invitation and she thought of the crowd that had so neatly intercepted the Dragon Home dogs. “I would like to return,” she said. “I would like to visit Koi again.”
And you,
she thought.
I would like to know who you really are.
For a moment, he merely looked at her, then his eyes lightened slightly, and Ahni realized that she was feeling his smile. “Any time,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here in one piece, before I have to deal with your brother.”
Ahni followed him from the control center. This man was no low-level gene splicer. Realized he was offering her his hand. Took it. He didn’t quite tow her, but his unerring trajectories made it a whole lot easier to get around without leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. They traveled for nearly a half hour and the physical immensity of the axle began to oppress her. But it fed a small world.
“There’s a microG park at this end,” Dane said. “We’re almost there.”
“There” turned out to be a small lock, heavy and functional looking. Dane’s palm and retinal scan got them into a cramped cubicle with several flaccid suits like the shed skins of caterpillars hanging on the smooth walls. Air lock? She didn’t see any exit port. He touched a small flat-panel screen and a few moments later, she sucked in her breath as the wall shimmered and … melted.
“Smart alloy.” He glanced at her, a hint of a smile in his manner.
“I know.” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen it, that’s all.”
Molecules that migrated around made her nervous and she nudged herself gingerly through the opening after him, one eye on the silvery rim of the oval gap. Found herself in a small ship.
About time we took a run, a female voice said. The ship?
“Meet Miriam, my ship-core,” Dane said. “Miriam, be polite.”
He propelled Ahni gently into a maze of webbing that turned rather surprisingly from tangle into a hammock. Slid into a second hammock. “Head for the Pan-Malay backdoor, Miriam.”
Sneaky or open?
“Sneaky.”
The curved eggshell of the ship’s hull …
melted
… closed and a fine hum seeped through the webbing into her bones. Suddenly she had … weight. Up and down struggled briefly, but there were no right angles, no straight lines to help her out.
Dane’s hands moving among a three dimensional shimmer of holographic control icons. “We’re heading over to the Pan Malay Elevator. New Singapore is feuding with Dragon Home over a smuggling matter, so that may slow down Li Zhen’s dogs. And I’m licensed to use one of the private docks.”
Ahni clung to her stomach, retreating into Pause to damp down the biochemical upheaval in her bloodstream.
Your passenger is about to urp,
Dane. You clean it up.
“Enough, Miriam.” Dane gave Ahni a sympathetic glance. “We’re almost there. Hang on.”
Like to see you get off the Elevator at sea level and walk, Ahni thought, as they finally docked. She swallowed sourness and released herself clumsily from the hammock as the wall melted open … in different place this time … to reveal another lock much like the one she had just left.
“I’m assuming you can handle whatever security you run into?” Dane clung to the webbing, looking down into her face. “You can get down okay?”
“Yes.” She drew a breath, suddenly reluctant to propel herself into that lock. “I … Taiwan Families have no quarrel with the Pan Malaysia Compact. I’ll be fine. I … Thanks,” she said. “For showing me your world.”
“Thank you for Koi.” He touched her cheek lightly, his eyes dark as a cloudy sky on Earth. “One day . .
. I hope you come back up. I think you’d fit.”
“I’ll try.” And she meant it. She pushed off, suddenly reluctant to leave, sailed through the oval emptiness that had been a wall, too fast, hit the far wall of another cramped lock with the same caterpillar skins of suits hanging on the wall. Grabbed one as she rebounded. “Goodbye,” she said, but the wall had already gone solid. A tiny chlange in pressure told her that the lock had sealed and a green light filled the chamber.
Good to go. She blinked briefly into Pause, summoned the specs for this Elevator, found a route from the service corridor beyond the lock door to the main tourist plaza. Laid her palm against the plate in the lock.
She stifled a sudden pang of regret as the door opened. Straightened her singlesuit. Time to go home and face their father with Xai’s betrayal. Grimly she headed down the corridor.
THE TOWN MEETING WAS FULL TONIGHT. AND SEETHING with emotion. Dane lounged at the fringes of the crowded public square, perched crosslegged on a bare table that would be crowded with scarves or jewelry or the tools and parts of a service trader come market day, but served as a good vantage point. In the center, a fountain bubbled and leaped with the abandon of the marrginalG up on this residential level. A dozen kids splashed in the water, paying no attention to the adults. All around him, eyes fixed glassy on eyelid screens, adding to the Con, the weave of live-chat conversation that rippled 24/7 through every level and corridor of NYUp. Everyone attended townplazas, either in perrson or by Con.
“Noah?” Dane spoke softly over his com link. “What do you hear on the Con?”
“Running just under forty percent, I’d say, for immediate secesssion.” Noah’s young voice sounded loud in Dane’s ear. ”That’s up two percent in a week. Why the change, Dane?”
“I don’t know.” Dane paused, frowning, watching a skinny kid toss handfuls of water into the air. He had the disproportionately long arm and leg bones that were showing up in this generation. Like Koi. “It bothers me, Noah. It’s too fast, too soon. See if you can pinpoint sources, will you?”
“Like hunting for a molecule in an atmosphere,” Noah said, “But I’ll get a few people in to help. Got to quit now. They’re serving dinner. I’ll keep on it while we’re dropping. Sorry, Dane. Bad :ime to go downside.”
“Family comes first, Noah. Just do what you can do. Thanks.” Dane broke the link. He missed Noah.
Noah was the most skilled at reading the Con. The perpetual chatter online had proven to be a very accurate predictor of events. He’d set Noah up to monitor trends with a powerful AI. This new increase in secession fever worrried him. And Laif was late. Not good, tonight. Dane suppressed a frown, blinked his own eyelid screen to life, the crowd vanishing behind a blue virtual wall, lines of speech scrolling down, threads of conversation flowing … With practiced ease, he skipped across a dozen threads, adding a word here, a comment there, but mostly reading, taking the pulse of NYUp.
Noah was right. The Con had a fever tonight. No major nexus … lots of small hot spots … story about a rude downsider here, an accusation of theft in a skinlevel hotel there. Small irritations, but more reaction than usual? Like an allergy-a few moleecules and you’re itching. NYUp was itching. Dane opened a visual link to the control center and Koi, still in Enhancement. Another six hours. He watched the boy’s eyelids shiver. Dreaming. He thought of the strange downsider, Ahni. Wondered if she had made it back all right. Nobody had tried to look for her in the axle. Which might not be a good sign.
She really had understood about Koi and his family. Too bad she was a downsider. He put that regret aside as Laif arrived.
“Sorry to be late.” The Administrator’s voice carried across the townplaza, larger than life, as he was physically. Dane watched him thread his way through the crowd, his mahogany scalp rising well above those around him, his grin flashing, the emerald in his left ear scattering shards of green light. An afroamerican-amerind-euro mix with a longtime resident’s elongated bones, he greeted even the pushy complainers with an easy manner and steel competence that always managed to find balance in any situation.
He needed that talent tonight.
Dane sat up straighter as the crowd parted ahead of Laif, revealling glimpses of the grass carpet and mosaic paths of the townplaza, giving him respectful space. A woman had been making the most of the crowd, selling iced fruit juice from a heavy plastic thermos hung over her shoulder. Laif paused to speak to her. The silver tracery of lightfiber decorating his naked scalp reflected glints of the emerald’s green as he bent to listen to something she was saying. He laughed, his head tossed back, his face so alive with the essence of laughter that people around him laughed, too. Even some of the grim faces, couldn’t help themselves, although they laughed grudgingly.
Laif unclipped his big personal mug from his belt and presented it to the juice seller with a flourish. She grinned, poured ruby colored liquid into the mug, offered the reader at her belt for his thumbprint.
Grinned wider as he bowed and imprinted it. Dane smiled grimly. Laif scores again. The mood in the crowded townplaza had lightened, and when Dane blinked into the Con, the spinning conversaations were lightening, too:
laif does a good job, not his fault the heavyweights keep milking us, he does his
best to keep their grubby downsider paws where they belong, and did you hear about that kid,
some heavyweight tourist hit with a cart, why they need carts when they can go up a couple of
levels where we live or maybe lose some of that heavyweight flab …
In a heartbeat the Con had recast Laif from stooge for the downsiders to beleaguered hero. Not bad, even if it didn’t chill the secession fever. Dane lifted a finger in a quiet salute, one that Laif didn’t acknowledge, although Dane was pretty sure Laif had spottted him. He might act casual and hurried, the overworked Adminisstrator rushing in from his screen, but he would have scoped the crowd through the security cams first, surfed the Con, and counted the members of NOW in the crowd. Like Dane. He leaned forward as Laif made his way to the podium set up for the meeting.