Synthesis Read online

  ‘What’s this?’

  Aryx stopped splashing. ‘I don’t know how you expect me to see what you’re on about from in here.’

  ‘It’s a constrained field device, isn’t it?’

  ‘Are you poking around in my stuff?’ The water stopped and a dripping Aryx wheeled out leaving tyre trails behind him.

  Sebastian turned his back to the object. ‘No, I was just looking.’

  A loud squeal came from the kitchen and Aryx wheeled over to the kettle and turned the heat off. He came back a moment later with two cups of coffee between his legs and handed one to Sebastian.

  He took a sip. ‘By the Gods, that’s strong! What have you used, hydraulic fluid?’

  Aryx narrowed his eyes. ‘Sorry, I forgot you like yours weak.’

  ‘It’s no wonder your taste buds don’t work properly.’ Sebastian went to the kitchen, emptied half of the cup down the sink, and topped it up with tap water. ‘So, what’s this thing you’ve been working on?’

  Aryx gulped his coffee down in one go. ‘If we’re going out, let’s go. I’m not getting you into something technical, or you’ll have me sitting here all night. Why don’t you go on ahead and get us a table? I’ve got to finish my shower now, because somebody disturbed me.’

  ***

  Aryx made his way to the centre of the station – near the hub – where The Hive, his favourite nightclub, lay. He passed beneath the neon honeycomb sign over the entrance and an automated voice said, ‘Welcome to The Hive, where the atmosphere’s always buzzing!’ The name was awful – it was too cheesy and didn’t fit the tone of the place at all.

  The matt-black walls of the club gave the place an enclosed feeling, with pools of light forming areas under which people congregated to dance and chat. He wheeled over the dance floor, passing through regions of sound with music from at least three different DJs. The frame of his chair vibrated to the thumping, sexual bass track that played in the main arena. Solo dancers writhed on podiums at the corners while others danced both singly and in a mixture of gender pairings, regardless of race or form, their torsos rubbing up and down each other in erotic motion. Aryx smiled; it was no wonder so many relationships started off – and ended – here. He wheeled off the dance floor and the volume dropped sharply.

  Sebastian sat huddled in the corner of a sumptuously upholstered L-shaped seat behind a table in one of the privacy enabled areas, drinks already laid out in front of him.

  Aryx pulled up at the table and leaned forwards, clasping his hands between his thighs.

  ‘So, tell me about this new job of yours.’

  Sebastian waved his wristcom over the payment terminal mounted in the table. ‘Engage privacy mode,’ he said, and the sounds from the dance floor stopped as a curtain drew around them. He sat back and folded his arms. ‘I don’t actually know what the job title is.’

  ‘Why not, you idiot?’

  ‘They didn’t say. A SpecOps agent interviewed me, although I didn’t really get asked any questions. He just told me I had the job.’

  ‘Sounds a bit weird, if you ask me. I’ve never been to an interview where they didn’t ask questions.’

  ‘I thought I was going for a disciplinary hearing! But they’d already made up their minds that I was the one they wanted.’ He leaned forwards and rested his arms on the table, eyebrows so low Aryx thought they would fall into his drink. ‘Apparently they’ve been watching me for the last couple of months.’

  ‘What!’ Aryx looked around suspiciously and then remembered nobody could see or hear them. ‘Have they bugged you?’

  Sebastian shook his head. ‘No. I scoured my apartment for snoopers after I got back, but didn’t find anything. I think they’ve only been watching me at work.’

  ‘Still, sounds bloody dodgy. Nice outfit, by the way.’

  He looked down at it and smiled. ‘It’s an N-suit.’

  ‘No! They cost a fortune. Are they expecting you to get shot at?’

  ‘That’s one of the things that worries me.’ Sebastian’s brow looked ready to take another dive. ‘They don’t recruit in the normal way. They’ve given me a piece of technology to investigate as induction. It was developed by those terrorists that have been bombing colonies!

  ‘They told me I could bring in a trusted partner to help, and they’d be paid full wages, and have full access to SpecOps resources.’

  ‘Sounds interesting … if you don’t get shot at, that is. Who did you choose?’ He almost didn’t dare hope.

  ‘You, if you’re interested in a chance to get off the station.’

  ‘Are you bloody kidding? Of course I’m interested! Won’t they object to this if we’ve got to go off-world?’ He gestured to his chair. The prospect of doing anything other than repairing engines was exciting, and to get one-up on the terrorists was something he’d wanted to do ever since he’d lost his legs – it was their fault he’d ended up on that damned planet, after all. But if SpecOps objected to him having to use the chair … It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Sebastian grinned. ‘I thought you’d be interested. They need us to start the project soon, but Gladrin’s aware of your predicament and said we can use SpecOps resources to find a way to work around it.’

  ‘My schedule’s clear – I can start ASAP. What SpecOps resources do we have access to exactly?’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Well … the thing I bit your head off about earlier, you know, the pack. I need some parts for it.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘A device I’ve been developing. I could do with your help on it. Keep it under your hat, though – it’s super-secret … But tell me about this item we’ve got to investigate.’

  ‘I haven’t opened the box yet. It’s about this big.’ Sebastian held his hands three inches apart. ‘They also gave me a few other items, but it doesn’t end there. They’ve allocated me a private shuttle.’

  ‘You lucky bastard!’ Aryx paused; his heart sank. ‘Oh, I see … bring the desperate disabled engineer along to repair it if something goes wrong!’

  ‘No!’ Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and shook his head. ‘I almost wish I hadn’t asked. You’re the one I trust the most and I thought you’d appreciate the change of scenery.’

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped the gun. I didn’t mean it. You’re right – it’ll be good to get out and about.’

  ‘No, it was my fault. I can see how it might have come across like that. I’ll take a look at your pack tomorrow. Do you have somewhere secure we can work?’

  ‘There’s the hangar … it’s not secure because it’s open to the other repair bays, but everyone else is on holiday at the moment. It’s either that, my apartment, or your office.’

  Sebastian’s mouth twisted. ‘No, not my office. We might need tools or other equipment.’

  ‘What class of shuttle have they allocated you?’

  He tapped his wristcom and after a few moments said, ‘Talaga class.’

  ‘Those usually have a small work area. Can’t get much more private than that. Bring it around to my bay tomorrow.’

  ‘Fine. I think we can do away with this now.’ Sebastian reached under the table and the privacy curtain pulled back.

  The floor heaved with a mixture of Humans and aliens, and the pair sipped at their drinks, watching the dancers move to the music. It was odd to see the plethora of joints and limbs moving about in different ways, synchronised to the patterns each picked up in the music. Karan was amongst the disparate group, dancing energetically, limbs everywhere.

  Aryx got the overwhelming urge to join in and wheeled over. He beckoned to Sebastian, but the gesture was returned with a sheepish shake of the head.

  Karan danced with the fervour of a wild animal. Her energetic and excitable nature was refreshing. Aryx liked her even though she sometimes proved less than confidential – it was probably because she couldn’t sit still. The excitement over the things she heard about othe
rs was probably totally different to what she got in her day-to-day life. He sat in front of her, leaned back, and jerked his wheels forwards and up into a wheelie. He allowed the music to swallow him while he rocked back and forth, balancing on two wheels and turning from side to side. A couple of times he glanced at Sebastian, and each time he received an apprehensive smile. He didn’t get it. He should learn to let go.

  Aryx wheeled into the centre of the dance floor and waved his arms over his head to the beat, letting his weight swing the chair from side to side. Feeling a little more adventurous in the hub’s lower gravity, he pulled his brakes on, waited for a break in the music and, when the beat permitted, threw his weight to one side. Tipping the chair over, he landed on his outstretched hand and dropped into a one-arm push-up. With a shove, he launched himself upright and over in the other direction, where he repeated the springing push-up.

  Karan loosely mirrored his movements and leaped all over the place with her head thrown back, hair everywhere.

  Sebastian smiled and shook his head.

  Aryx repeated his performance several times until the music calmed down, then returned to the table with Karan following. Even after several drinks, he was unable to persuade Sebastian to relax enough to join in dancing, so the trio sat and talked until they had their fill of conversation and went their separate ways.

  ***

  Aryx woke in the night and turned on the bedside lamp. Its dull light was eerie in the leafy shadows of his apartment. The plants at the back of the kitchen rustled.

  He froze. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. What was it? He glanced at the door. It was shut, so he sat for a few moments. Was it just his over-active imagination? He let out a slow breath and the leaves rustled again.

  His pulse raced. The last thing he needed was some little alien thing creeping around while he was in bed.

  The disturbance in the leaves edged closer around the room, moving through the planter. It was time to go.

  He reached for his wheelchair, but it sat beyond his grasp; he lay across the bed and stretched as far as he could, but it wasn’t enough.

  The rustling approached quicker; it was nearly at the bed.

  He reached again, straining to span the gap, and fell to the floor. Pain shot through his stumps from the impact and he tried to drag himself along but an immense weight held him down: fear.

  He tried to control his breath, to quieten the ragged sound while he strained to listen. Where was it? The rustling stopped level with him, on the other side of the bed, out of view. He waited, holding his breath. Silence. Mustering the courage to drag himself up to the bed, he peered over the edge.

  A small, red creature with tiny horns and bat-like wings sat amongst the leaves. It looked like someone had taken a child’s plastic doll, attached grotesque features, and dipped it in a dark red paint.

  The evil thing jumped at his face. He screamed.

  ***

  Aryx jerked awake, limbs flailing, and he bashed the stump of his right leg painfully against the planter. He reached down to rub it and rolled over to turn on the bedside lamp.

  Somehow, he’d got tangled up in the bedding, which he used to mop his sodden brow. The details of the dream were vague, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken from a nightmare with such a fright; what a childish thing to do.

  A light on his terminal flashed impatiently, but at 03.10, it would have to wait until the morning. He dismissed the flashing alert and switched off the bedside lamp, but while he lay in the darkness with his eyes open, he couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong with the room.

  ***

  That morning Aryx sat in his wheelchair at the kitchen counter, cooking eggs – one of the few ‘real’ foods you could still get easily in space – while he spoke to Sebastian over the comms.

  ‘Are you sure it’s okay to work on my pack today?’

  ‘Gladrin was clear that we could use the resources to get you up to speed, but we’ll have to start my assignment soon.’

  ‘Okay. I’m just having some breakfast then I’ll meet you in the hangar. Bring your ship around and I’ll be there.’

  ‘I’ll see you shortly.’ Sebastian signed off.

  Aryx finished his breakfast, cleared the kitchen, and disinfected the work surfaces – he didn’t trust the automated systems to do it properly. He collected some tools from the workbench along with the pack and was about to leave the apartment when he remembered the flashing light from the night before. It was a message, but the terminal didn’t show from whom; it was totally empty. ‘Very strange,’ he said, rubbing his chin, and forwarded the message to Sebastian. Communication security was his department, after all. With the message sent, he wheeled out and down the long, curving hallway to the lift.

  ***

  Sebastian entered the shuttle storage bay. Floodlights came on, filling the vast, cavernous space with light. Hundreds of small ships sat in ranks under the harsh, bright light that reflected off the silvery walls. He walked past the rows of ships, studying the reference numbers on his wristcom, and after a few minutes of searching he turned down one of the aisles and found the allocated vessel.

  At roughly ten metres tall and nearly twice as long, it was larger than most passenger shuttles. The engine exhaust ports were big for its size, and the yellow and black chevrons on the fore and aft quarters of the hull that indicated the locations of four retractable atmospheric Dyson hoops seemed a little out of place; it was a high-end performance ship. He walked around, running his hand over the steely-blue hull. The colouration was striking: the side panels and keel were white, separated from the bluish tints of the front, roof and rear by a long, black stripe that undulated from below the bow, up and over to the stern, emphasising its flowing curves. It reminded him of the N-suit design. He rounded the port side from the bow, passing two intakes lined with slats like oversized metal gills. Below the windows, large, black lettering read Ultima Thule. Not a bad name – it sounded like an exploration ship.

  Landing struts held the ship nearly three feet off the ground. The midsection was inset with an airlock door with a small logo printed below; it was the same image he’d seen on Aryx’s pack. He pressed his palm to the airlock’s multi-lock.

  ‘Greetings, Agent Thorsson, you have been granted access to the Ultima Thule.’ The door retracted a little and slid into the hull. A glowing glassy orange step appeared in mid-air, halfway between the doorway and hangar floor, and he jumped back and let out a whistle. Aryx would be impressed if he knew the ship had CFD generators.

  He hadn’t had a chance to look at a constrained field closely and he’d never used any of the handheld tools himself, so he bent down to examine it.

  The edges were slightly rounded and the step tapered towards the bottom, giving it a soft, wedge-like appearance. The upper surface had a sharp, knobbly texture, like small cubes, but its transparency, and the lines of light that traced through caused his gaze to drift.

  The surface was hard, of neutral temperature, and didn’t budge when he pressed down on it. He ran his fingers over the side and they slipped off, like wet glass, with hardly any friction at all.

  He stood and tentatively put his foot on the step. The grip held, so he climbed up. Upon entering the ship, he looked back over his shoulder and the step vanished behind him; SpecOps clearly got the best tech.

  The tiny airlock was just large enough for one person at a time, or two at a squeeze. Ahead, a corridor ran fore and aft, and directly opposite the entrance a small bay housed three pressure suits and a medkit. Along the corridor to the left, the walls were lined with storage units on either side until the space opened out into a cargo bay with a panelled floor. To the right, the corridor terminated in a door in the aft bulkhead. Mindful of the time, Sebastian made his way into the cargo section. In the nearest corner stood a small lift platform and emergency ladder; both passed through sealed hatches in the ceiling. He took the lift to the next floor and the hatch snapped open.r />
  Several seconds later, he stepped off the lift into the cockpit, which took up the front third of the ship, and consisted of two seats in front of a black glass console that curved around the line of the windows.

  To the left of the lift, a walkway ran the full length of the port side and, although he couldn’t be certain, it seemed shorter than it should have been. Something at the back was taking up space. A console projected from the bulkhead, with strip lighting mounted above, and two freely movable seats in front – the workspace Aryx mentioned. Opposite the workbench were three seats with safety harnesses. So, the ship must have been designed for five passengers …

  He went back to the cockpit and sat in one of the pilot seats. At his touch, several virtual buttons illuminated from within the glass console with a bright green glow and he entered his access codes. He quickly programmed the transport system to take the ship through the necessary junctions to the maintenance bay and pressed the large initiate button.

  A docking arm extended from the ceiling of the hangar and lowered over the ship. Using carefully balanced magnetic fields, it lifted the vessel without touching and lowered it into the huge coils of the transport rings. The ship floated forward, carried by the magnetic inductors, and as it entered one of the station’s spokes, it fell into the tunnel and out towards the rim of the station. Fields caught and controlled its alternating light and dark descent while it passed through the illuminated hoops until it finally entered the outer section and made its way around the arc.

  Sebastian waited, contemplating the journey. It was odd how no species, except maybe the Folians, had yet managed to develop anti-gravity. Nobody knew how the Folian ships operated, and stories of them floating motionless in hangars caused no end of speculation. Had they truly mastered anti-gravity technology, or was it something else? It was a hypothesis that had never been substantiated, as no Human in living memory had ever been on board one of their ships. It was a shame his department didn’t have technical manuals he could study, and given what Tolinar had said in the atrium, he’d never see one.