Slave Empire - Prophecy (6 page)

Many
scientists had argued against the Net's safety, challenging its
inventors to prove that living cargo could not be destroyed, should
the shell break down in the energy dimension. The ensuing
experiments had gone on for years, but the closest anyone had come
to losing a cargo was a small animal that vanished into the energy
dimension for seven years, but re-emerged unharmed at its point of
origin. This had caused serious consternation, since the laboratory
had, in the meantime, been torn down, and the Net had returned in
an office block.

The animal,
when caught, had proven to be in excellent health, since no time
had passed for it. After that, the Net was deemed to be safe,
although by then it had already been in use for several years.
Essentially, the conclusion was that the shell could not break down
in the energy dimension simply because it was kept intact by the
one thing that abounded there. Energy. The beast's loss had been
due only to its sender failing to encode any return instructions
into the initial beam, and even then it had eventually returned,
unharmed.

The wave form
of the Net changed, and the shell and its cargo vanished from the
spy-cam’s screen. The spy-cam, confused, spun as it searched for
its target, but a new set of instructions halted its frantic
revolutions.

Tallyn left
the bridge and walked along the corridors that led to the ship's
hospital, his feet silent on the thick moss carpet. Going over to
the shimmering stress field that surrounded the bed where she lay,
he gazed down at her. The doctor, clad in a sealed suit, tended the
wounds in her legs. He glanced up and waved before returning to his
work.

Tallyn studied
the girl, his conviction that she was his quarry growing stronger.
Her perfection cried out for notice, almost impossible in the
revolting atmosphere in which she lived. Her skin had no sun
blemishes at all, which, even if she had lived all her life in a
cave, was amazing. His hair stood up as he moved closer to the
stress screen, and he stepped back, unwilling to be touched by its
unpleasant aura.

The screen,
unlike the Net, used hardly any energy at all, but created a
barrier by changing the polarity of the air molecules in a series
of alternating layers. This created a tangible barrier through
which air could not circulate, for the stressed molecules were
static, held in position by the field's slight energy. Its effect
on flesh was startling and violent, deadly if a person tried to
penetrate it. Fortunately, its hair-raising properties and the
shimmer of its stressed particles were warning enough to keep most
people away.

The agony it
imparted upon entry would also enforce a speedy withdrawal. Stress
screens were used in prison ships and bank vaults, and as yet, no
one had found a way through one without a door stasis switch. The
screen's effect on metal armour was even more dramatic than flesh,
resulting in atomisation and the instant death of its occupant. An
air-cleaning unit stood beside the girl's bed, providing her with
fresh air. The doctor, his task finished, switched off a door in
the screen and exited, approaching Tallyn.

"She's the
one, isn't she? I would never have thought that such health could
thrive in that putrid environment."

"Yes." Tallyn
gazed at her, then turned to the doctor. "Keep her asleep until
morning, then I'll have her returned."

The doctor
looked perplexed. "Returned? But surely...?" He caught himself.
"Yes, sir."

Rayne woke
with a gasp, opened her eyes and sat up. All her senses tingled and
her head spun from the speed of her movements before her metabolism
had speeded up from its sleeping state. Her breath condensed before
her face in the cold air, yet she was warm, the chill nipping at
her fingers and nose. She had slept through the night, with no
dreams or sudden awakenings caused by rats or other noises.

The dull
throbbing ache in her legs was gone, and when she poked the wounds
she found hard scabs where yesterday there had been bleeding sores.
She was refreshed and invigorated, and a metallic taste lingered on
her tongue. The peculiarities were alarming, yet harmless, and made
her wonder afresh at the strong sensation of being watched. She
glanced around at the dank, gloomy room in which she had spent the
night, her gaze flitting over peeling walls and mildewed floor to
come to rest on the ashes of her fire.

Hunger lived
as a dull pain in her belly, and today she must find food.
Dismissing the inexplicable oddities for the moment, she pulled her
jacket closer and rose, going over to the door to peer out. Rain
had fallen during the night, and she was surprised that she had
slept through it, since rain was so dangerous, it usually woke her.
Puddles in the road hissed as they ate into the tar, and acrid
steam stung her nostrils. Leaving the room's safety, she walked
down the deserted street, avoiding puddles. Finding a tap, she
drank and washed her face, keeping a sharp lookout for danger. The
only place she would find food was at an autocrat's store, and,
although the prospect chilled her, hunger drove her on.

Rayne set off
to find one, sprinting across roads and staying close to walls,
where she could duck out of sight if necessary. Even vagrants were
a threat to her now. Her only defence was to act like a raider, so
they would think she was armed. She flitted through the city until
she found a food store, but the number of guards patrolling its
entrance dismayed her. The autocrat must have been raided recently,
for there were four guards instead of the usual two.

Rayne
considered finding a less well-guarded store, but the prospect of
continuing her dangerous journey on an empty stomach did not appeal
to her. Like most food stores, it was an old shop with all the
doors save one bricked up. In the early days, raiders had used
explosives to blow open food store doors, and some autocrats had
given up repairing the damage. This store was one that possessed no
doors, its owner having opted to use more guards instead.

This meant
that raiders were sometimes killed, which pleased the autocrats.
The rivalry between store guards and raiders had become something
of a deadly game, which was why guards did not merely stand outside
the doors, or wait inside in ambush. To even the odds, they
patrolled in front of the store, giving raiders a chance to get in
if they had the guts to try.

Watching them,
she noticed that there was about a minute when both pairs had their
backs to the door. This gave her a slim chance, but it was risky.
If they caught her, they would give her to an autocrat, a prospect
grim enough to make her hesitate. Then her stomach rumbled,
reminding her of why she was there.

Rayne waited
for the right moment, missing two before she plucked up enough
courage to make her dash. Leaving the safety of the doorway, she
sprinted across the road and ghosted through the door. She held her
breath as she waited for the shouts and the pounding of feet that
would tell her that she was now trapped. Her heart's hammering was
the only sound in the vast, dilapidated room, however, and she
turned to survey her surroundings.

Mountains of
boxes were stacked against the walls, and she went to tear open the
nearest cardboard lid and look inside. Plastic-wrapped food bars,
nutritious but, in this case, tasteless. She gathered some, then
looked in another box, finding tinned stuff, too heavy to carry. A
third box yielded protein and vitamin pills, and she filled her
pockets with these and more food bars of different flavours and
nutritional values.

Once she had
as much as she could carry, she returned to the door. It was
dangerous to stay inside too long, since the guards sometimes
checked for intruders. She peered out and jerked back. The guards
faced the door, and she waited, then looked again just as they
turned away.

With her heart
lodged in her throat, she sprinted for the doorway she had hidden
in earlier. Shouts rang out behind her, followed by the clatter of
running feet, and she veered off. Clutching her stolen booty, she
raced down the street, the guards pounding in pursuit. She
lengthened her strides, her muscles stretching, her hair flying
like a banner. For a while, she revelled in her speed, but all too
soon the burning of fatigue invaded her legs. Sprinting required a
great deal of effort, and was not something that she could sustain
for too long, especially while carrying an armload of food.

Scarcely a
block passed before the extra weight and her weakened condition
took their toll. The guards kept up, their wild shots ricocheting
off the walls on either side of her, alarmingly close. They did not
seem to be aiming to kill, only to frighten her, for now. She dived
into an alley, hoping to lose them in the shadows and garbage, but
they were too close, and followed.

The men
stopped firing and whooped with triumph as they closed with their
quarry, certain of their success. Dropping the food, she sprinted
again, intent only on escape. Her legs were lumps of burning lead
and her lungs seemed to have shrunk. The guards gained, and she
leapt over a pile of old cardboard and stumbled, sobbing with
terror and exhaustion. The alley ended a few metres further on in a
high wall. She slowed, her mind numb with horror, unwilling to look
back at her triumphant pursuers.

A golden light
appeared in the dingy alley ahead, forming a nimbus that brightened
to blinding intensity, forcing her to squint and avert her eyes.
She stumbled to a halt, panting. The light vanished, and a man,
clad mostly in black, with a grey, knee-length coat, stood there.
She gaped at him. Although he remained immobile, in this hostile
place she could only assume he was an enemy. His appearance from
the golden light made her wonder if he was another alien, or if the
autocrats had discovered this odd mode of travel.

If he was an
alien, Earth was becoming rife with them. His appearance did not
change her situation, however. The guards would reach her
momentarily. Letting her aching legs fold, she sank down gasping
and waited for the guards' rough hands to drag her to her feet.
Instead, the unmistakable hum of a laser bolt blazed over her,
filling the alley with shimmering blue light. Shouts came from
behind her, and she glanced back. Two guards lay still on the
ground. Another brilliant beam crisped the air overhead, and a
third man collapsed with a strangled cry. The last guard tried to
aim his weapon as yet another vicious buzz and flash of blue light
passed over her. He crumpled with a hoarse cough, and a tense
silence fell.

Rayne stared
at the sprawled bodies, hardly daring to breathe, then turned to
face the man who had killed them. He stood there still, his grey
coat flaring in the breeze that stirred scraps of paper and made
them dance along the grimy tar. He holstered his laser, the soft
click loud in the stillness.

Rayne stared
at him with deep trepidation. If he came after her, she did not
have the strength to run. He was too far away for her to make out
any details, and the gloom made him little more than a shadow. His
black clothes did not have the cheap shine of an autocrat's
garments, nor did he act like a raider.

Considering
the startling way in which he had arrived, she did not think he was
either. His strange method of travel and odd inaction mystified
her. She was usually good at sensing people's moods, but he
appeared neither impatient nor hesitant; he seemed to merely study
her. He glanced up, and she glimpsed the alien profile of what
appeared to be a black mask, then golden light engulfed him,
forcing her to avert her eyes. When she looked again, he had
vanished.

Scrambling to
her feet, she glanced around with deep suspicion, but only papers
scuttled past in the breeze. She took a moment to recover from the
shock while her heart slowed and her breathing became less painful,
swallowing to ease her throat's dry rawness. Then she headed back
up the alley and collected the guards' weapons before stepping over
the bodies to pick up her food.

A few blocks
away, she sat down to eat, glancing around with fearful, hunted
eyes. These mysterious beings or people who appeared and vanished
were becoming unnerving, and, even though they had helped her
twice, she wished they would leave her alone. Perhaps they would
when she found Rawn. When strength returned to her limbs, she set
off once more in search of her brother, hoping she found him before
hunger forced her to raid another food store.

Rawn woke
shivering and crawled out of the musty blankets to sit in the sun's
feeble warmth. He cursed the many abuses this cruel world heaped
upon his head daily, adding one more to the list. Now he was not
only hungry, dirty, cold and weary, but lonely as well. He watched
a group of vagrants trying to catch a rat in the filth. The mutated
rodents were the size of rabbits, but still slim pickings for four
people. Three ragged, skinny men and a woman, brown with dirt,
chased the rat with starved desperation. The woman gave a thin
cackle of delight as she caught it, which turned into a squeal of
pain when it bit her. She dropped it, and the men groaned in
despair as it dived into a storm drain. One cuffed her, growling
something unintelligible.

Rawn's lips
twisted in disgust as he looked away. It turned his stomach to
watch them. They were human, or at least they used to be; now they
were worse than animals. Would he end up like them when the food
stores emptied? The group shuffled off down the street, kicking the
piles of rubbish heaped against the walls in search of another rat.
A sudden urge to quit the city took hold of him, and he jumped up.
He would go to the meeting place. Rayne was bound to go there
eventually, if she was not already there, waiting for him. Either
that or the autocrats had captured her, in which case he would
never see her again. He set off at a run.