He might just try and follow Louise,
Charlie decided.
Ivanov was never certain who was in charge of his body at that moment. But he took two faltering steps backwards until the
doughnut rim hit him just below his kidneys. Then he performed a fabulously well-coordinated back flip, and vanished head
first down the chute.
Fletcher staggered to one side as Brent started shooting again. The possessed scrambled for cover, two diving through walls.
Out of nowhere, a skilfully aimed ball of white fire plunged into Brent’s left eye socket, and the gun fell silent. Two spears
of white fire immediately resumed their strike against Fletcher. He twisted painfully under the impact, waving his hand in
the general direction one of them was coming from, about to retaliate with his own fire. A thin metal band clamped tight around
his throat, and an electric current punched into him. It took every reserve of strength to prevent the excruciating energy
from pouring like hot acid into his brain. Thought was impossible, instinct was all he had left. He slumped to his knees,
the smell of frying skin thick in his nostrils. The anti-memory weapon fell from numb fingers.
“Enough.”
The current was switched off. Fletcher’s muscles lost their rigor, dropping him into a twitching heap. Breath was hard to
find with the unyielding circle of metal digging against his Adam’s apple. His fingers scrabbled weakly against the collar.
“You just leave that alone motherfucker or I’ll zap you again.”
Fletcher blinked against the shower of water still gushing from the sprinklers, focusing a long pole that extended away from
the collar. At the other end was a young man, not possessed, whose tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth. “Hands down,
come on boy, down they go.”
Fletcher removed his hands from the collar.
“G
ooood
boy,” the young man sneered. “Hey, Quinn, I got him for you. He been whupped but good.”
Quinn Dexter materialized next to Billy-Joe. The deluge of water never even touched his robe. “Well done. I owe you at least
a countess and a classical actress for this one.”
Billy-Joe put his head back and howled in joy. “Yes sir. Gonna die from too much fucking.”
“Shame my old friend Louise got away.”
“No she ain’t,” Billy-Joe shouted excitably. He shoved the restraint collar’s pole into the hands of a startled Frenkel, who
gripped it in reflex. “I’ll get her for you, Quinn. You see.”
“No,” Quinn said.
But Billy-Joe was already running for the evacuation chute.
“Billy-Joe!” the tone was ominous. Billy-Joe responded with a doltish grin, and dived clean through the doughnut.
“Shit!” Quinn exclaimed. He’d emphasised how much he wanted Louise Kavanagh as he led the possessed into the tower. And for
all his loyalty, Billy-Joe was far too dumb to appreciate simple strategy.
Quinn couldn’t chase after the girl himself. Fletcher was regarding him with calculating ferocity. Captured, but hardly subdued.
And there were too many questions he had concerning the soul-less bodies now sprawled inertly along the corridor. He snapped
his fingers at a couple of the possessed from the Hampstead group. “You two, get down there and help him out.”
If she’d just had the time to read the instructions and pictographs on the side of the doughnut, Louise might not have been
so frightened. The chute was an old idea, improved by the use of modern flextailored fabric so it could be used from almost
any height. She slid down the first four stories with little resistance; then the fabric began to constrict around her, gently
braking her fall. It was designed to be elastic in one direction only, making sure its length remained constant. The end would
continue to dangle one metre above the pavement no matter how many people were inside the chute.
Louise was deposited gently from the end, not even having to bend her knees when her feet touched the ground. Her neural nanonics
were back on line, with the adrenaline suppression program quickly damping down her shakes. She took a few unsteady steps
from the tower, then looked up. Faint sounds of conflict were drifting out of the open window far above. A bulge was descending
down the chute, putting her in mind of a guinea pig swallowed by a snake.
There was no time for her to reach cover before the person in the chute arrived. Louise gave the anti-memory weapon she was
holding a blank look, then aimed it at the end of the chute.
A head cleared the rim, which surprised her. She’d been expecting feet.
Ivanov had gritted his teeth against the shocking pain from his arm while his neural nanonics slowly recovered on the ride
down. When he slid out of the chute the axon block was established, cutting off all the impulses from the mangled wound. Physiological
shock was more difficult to counter.
With only one arm to flail around with, he tumbled awkwardly from the chute as the hem released him. Louise rushed forward
to help, only to gasp when she saw the state of his bloody arm.
“No,” Ivanov groaned. He rolled onto his knees, gripping the long wound tightly, trying to staunch the blood. “Go,” he said
earnestly.
“But you’re hurt.”
“Doesn’t matter. You go. Now.”
“I…” she stared round in despair at the dark deserted streets. “There’s nowhere
to
go.”
Ivanov’s expression altered, a subtle but definite change. “This is Charlie. Run, Louise. Run now. And keep on running. Go
down the Holloway Road to start, there aren’t many of them in that direction. Shoot anyone you see. I mean it, don’t ask questions,
just shoot. Once you’re clear, find somewhere deserted to hole up. I promise I’ll do what I can to save London. You know that,
Louise.” He looked up. A bulge was sliding down the chute, already halfway down. “Now go! Please. Go on, leave. I’ll take
care of them here. They won’t be following you for quite a while.”
Ivanov winked. Louise knew that was him, not Charlie. She nodded and backed off. “Thank you.” Then she was gone, running hard
down the Holloway Road.
Behind her, Ivanov swung round to face the chute. He let go of his injured arm, allowing the blood to flow freely again. His
good arm brought the anti-memory weapon up to point at the chute hem, just as Billy-Joe’s head popped out.
______
The fluorescent yellow frisbee soared high above the white sand. Haile had to formshift her tractamorphic flesh into a long
tentacle to catch it. Jay clapped excitedly, hopping about. “Throw it back, throw it back,” she squealed.
Haile’s tentacle curled round the rim, and released the frisbee with a fast flick. It flew back, travelling twice as quickly
as when Jay threw it, tracing a perfectly flat trajectory.
The little girl had to jump to have any chance of making a catch. It hit her hand with a sharp smack, and she tumbled over
onto the sand.
“Ouch!”
You feel painfulness?
“Not half.” Jay scrambled up, shaking the tingling out of her hand. She gave the clubhouse along the beach a guilty glance.
Tracy had started to warn her about the amount of times she was using the provider for medical aid when she went surfing,
threatening to confiscate the board. Asking for something to ease her stinging palm would probably result in more scolding.
“Rest time,” she announced, and flopped on her towel.
Haile lumbered over and used her tractamorphic flesh to scoop out a shallow depression in the warm dry sand. She settled into
it, emitting strong thoughts of grateful satisfaction.
Jay eyed the cooler box again, then looked back to the clubhouse. “What are they watching now?”
Corpus is displaying pictures from sensors on Earth for them.
“Really? Where from?”
London. Fletcher Christian has arrived to help the police locate Quinn Dexter. Tracy is concerned that the security services
have acquired the life-pattern disrupter weapon.
Jay sighed with impatience. Tracy kept telling her how momentous events were back in the Confederation. Privately Jay thought
the way the old observers got into such a tizz over all the political shenanigans was stupid. All she really wanted to know
was when it was all going to be over and she could see her mother again. Loads of politicians arguing about who they should
ally their planets with wasn’t going to bring any sort of end to the crisis.
Friend Jay, what is wrong?
“I want to go home.” She hated how miserable and whiny she sounded.
Corpus asks that you be patient.
“Huh!” Suffering quickly turned to a spike of anger. “As if it cares.”
It does care,
a distressed Haile said.
All Kiint care.
“Right.” She wasn’t going to argue with Haile, it always upset both of them.
Tracy comes,
Haile said with a note of hope.
Jay saw the old woman riding a chrome-blue air scooter towards them. Several of the Village residents used the little vehicles
to get about on, each one as individual as its owner. Tracy’s was a fat ellipsoid shape with a recessed saddle in the middle.
Stubby triangular fins with red tail lights protruded from the rear third; for show Jay assumed. There were also some positively
anachronistic circular headlights on the front, like glass jewels. Tracy called it her T-bird.
Another thing Jay was banned from using by herself. She was convinced the sleek-looking vehicle could go a lot faster than
Tracy’s maximum speed.
It glided silently through the air at about twenty kilometres an hour, keeping a good two metres above the ground.
Jay stood up, brushing sand from her swimsuit as the T-bird landed beside her.
“Sorry I’m late, poppet,” Tracy said. “Haile, my dear, you’ll have to look after yourself this afternoon. I’m going to take
Jay to Agarn.”
“What’s Agarn?”
Tracy explained as they walked back to the chalet, the T-bird following faithfully behind. Agarn was another planet in the
Arc, inhabited by a small number of Kiint. They didn’t involve themselves in the kind of life practised by the majority of
the Arc, preferring more philosophical pursuits. “So mind your manners,” Tracy warned. “They’re a very dignified group.”
“Why are we going there?”
“The Agarn Kiint are slightly different from the others. I’m hoping they’ll intervene in our favour. It’s a bit of a last
resort, but things are turning ugly in the Confederation. I’m worried the situation will result in a squalid kind of stalemate.
Nothing will be resolved, which is one of the worst outcomes there can be.”
She inspected Jay’s clothes, a pair of khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt, with sturdy hiking boots. “You’ll do, quite the little
explorer.”
“Why am I going with you?”
“So they can get a look at a true human.”
“Oh.” Jay didn’t like that idea at all. “Can’t they look at the pictures from the Confederation like you do?”
“In a way they already have. They haven’t turned their back on Corpus. If they had there wouldn’t be any point to visiting
them.”
Jay just smiled. She still really didn’t understand Corpus.
Agarn didn’t have any buildings within sight of the teleport circle they arrived on. They were on the rolling foothills of
a wide valley. It was kind of like the parkland of Riynine, but left untended for a couple of centuries. Lush emerald grass-analogue
swamped the ground. Trees were twisting towers of clustered magenta bubbles. A dozen waterfalls poured over tall rock cliffs
lining the valley, while every crevice was home to a stream, emptying into crater lakes that were stepped down the slopes.
Tracy looked round, dabbing at her forehead with a lace hanky. “I’d forgotten how hot it is here,” she murmured.
Jay put her sunglasses on, and they walked down to one of the crater lakes. Two Kiint were bathing just off the shore.
Hello, Fowin,
Tracy said.
The Kiint raised a blunt length of tractamorphic flesh, and began to wade ashore.
Greetings to you, Tracy Dean. You are Jay Hilton? Query.
“Yes, thank you very much. Hello.” Jay pushed her sunglasses up as the Kiint reached the shore and walked out onto the thick
grass-analogue. It was very similar to Haile’s parents, though she thought the breathing vents were angled steeper, and the
legs were flatter.
I thank you for this visit,
Tracy said.
I wish to ask you to consider intervention.
I know this. Why else do observers visit me? Following the Gebal stabilisation, every time a new species encounters a problem
I am asked to be favourable towards them.
Your enlightenment is renown among Corpus.
Corpus is a constant reminder of the Gebal, so much so that I doubt my wisdom in agreeing to help. Such a notion features
heavily in my contemplation. It distracts me from higher thought.
The Gebal faced a unique situation. So do humans.
Humans face an unfortunate situation.
Nonetheless, we can reach full transcendence amity. The inverse population is negligible. Our progress towards social maturity,
though admittedly slow, is constant.
She gestured at Jay.
Please consider our potential.
Jay put on her best bright smile for the Kiint.
Your attempt to influence is crude, Tracy Dean. The child of every species is a reservoir for great potential, good and bad.
I cannot judge the individual path, thus logically providing a neutral witness. However, children are inherently innocent.
A positive bias.
Jay is the only human available.
Very well.
The Kiint turned its big violet eyes to the little girl.
What do you desire above all else, Jay Hilton?
“I want my mummy back, of course. I keep telling your Corpus that.”
So you do. I grieve with you for the loss you suffer.
“But you won’t help, will you. None of your kind will. I think that’s horrible of you. Everyone keeps saying how we’re not
perfect. But do you know what Father Horst told me once?”