Synthesis Read online

  He stared out of the cockpit while the ship drifted past several private bays. All of them were empty. All except one.

  His skin tingled. His heart skipped a beat. One of the enigmatic Folian ships floated in the bay he was passing. A cross between a giant almond and walnut – in shape, colour and texture – it hung motionless, several feet off the floor, just like the stories said.

  Within moments the Ultima Thule had drifted past, taking the ship out of view. He had to get a look inside one someday.

  ***

  Aryx watched from the repair bay while the retrieval arm, with lights flashing, glided over on its Cartesian frame, dropped down, and lifted a ship out of the transport tunnel. It trundled across the hangar with its heavy load and placed it in the bay where the Antari ship had been the day before. He lugged the pack-shaped device onto his lap and wheeled towards it. The airlock door opened and a step appeared.

  Sebastian’s head popped out.

  ‘She’s rather nice,’ Aryx said, ‘and I like the step feature! I didn’t realise CFDs got used for those sorts of things yet … But how am I supposed to get up it?’

  ‘Give it a go.’ Sebastian moved back inside the entrance. ‘I think you’ll be surprised.’

  Aryx rolled his wheelchair towards the step. He got within four feet and it vanished, instantly replaced with a shallow ramp. Intriguing, but useless. ‘Won’t it be slippery? These fields are frictionless.’

  ‘The programmers have written in textures that provide grip – as long as you’ve got suitable tread. Try it.’

  He brought the front casters of his chair up onto the ramp. They seemed to move normally, so he pushed the wheels a little and crept up into the ship. ‘Very impressive. We’ll have to find the code for that.’

  Sebastian didn’t respond; he just stared off into space.

  ‘Oi, where have you gone?’ Aryx poked him.

  He snapped out of his daydreaming and looked down. ‘I was thinking about Folian ships – did you know there was one parked in one of the private bays just down the tube?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Ever had one in for repair?’

  ‘No, but I saw a damaged one once. What are you getting at?’ He could almost see the cogs going around in Sebastian’s head, formulating some stupid plan.

  ‘I’d love to see inside one sometime.’

  ‘Heh, you and everyone else. They never hang around.’

  ‘What about the damaged one?’

  ‘Not much to tell. Turned up outside the station one day with a big black patch up the side of it. There were rumours that a terrorist group set off a bomb when it visited one of our colonies.’ He waved dismissively. ‘I don’t know how true that was.’

  ‘Why didn’t it come in for repair?’

  ‘No idea. Apparently, it dropped someone off and went straight back out again. They didn’t even request any help.’

  Sebastian shrugged with his bottom lip like he often did, seemingly dismissing the subject for the time being. ‘You’ll like the ship.’ He stepped behind Aryx and ushered him in.

  Aryx moved through the airlock into the main corridor, almost scraping his handrims on the narrow door in the process. He glanced left towards the cargo bay and then turned his attention to the door in the aft bulkhead, mounted with a multi-lock. ‘Can you code the palm-locks?’

  Sebastian reached over and pressed his hand against the lock. ‘Add identity to allow list for all locks,’ he said, and pulled his hand away.

  Aryx put his palm to the lock.

  The door slid open. ‘Aryx Trevarian added to authorised users.’

  The lights in the room blinked on, revealing a bare space with unpainted brushed-metal walls. Under the grille-covered floor, cabling ran fore and aft, and in the centre of the room, a large rectangular device – at least five feet long, four feet wide, and three feet tall – dominated the space. Mounted in a set of gimbals, it hung suspended by eight hydraulic arms anchored in each corner of the room.

  ‘This must be the CFD shield,’ Aryx said, moving around the unit. ‘There’s probably a smaller one under the door for the step. Judging by the size of this, it looks like it could generate a shield covering about twenty-five per cent of the hull, I’d say, but if you landed on the shield, it would probably rip the generator off its mountings.’

  Sebastian walked across the room and pointed to a panel on the wall. ‘There’s a configuration console here.’

  ‘Bloody hell. The cost of the generator alone must be millions.’

  He did the mouth-shrug thing again and approached the door opposite the one they’d entered. Aryx wheeled past and pressed his hand to the lock.

  A cube-shaped fusion reactor stood four feet tall in the centre of the engine room. Giant heat sinks covered the sides, with coolant pipes running between the vanes, and over the top into the middle of the unit. At the end of the room nearest the stern stood a large oven-like machine: a solar-hydrogen fuel cell hybrid engine.

  ‘You’re right,’ Aryx said. ‘I do like this ship. The reactor uses hydrogen, which you can scoop from an atmosphere, but it’s meant as a backup for the self-contained hydrogen fuel cell – as long as it’s got water in it, you have power.’

  Sebastian laughed. ‘It’s the perfect eco-ship!’

  ‘Does it run quiet?’

  ‘I don’t know. I used the batteries to power the inductors when I brought it through the tube.’

  ‘I guess we’ll find out in time, then.’ Aryx made his way into the forward section. ‘Hmm. Fairly spacious for a cargo bay, but not very useful with such a narrow corridor and airlock. Does the front open?’

  Sebastian pulled back the webbing that hung down in the far corner of the hold. ‘There’s a panel here,’ he said, activating a control.

  The forward wall gave a loud clunk and lights in the ceiling started to flash while it hinged downwards, forming a ramp out of the ship.

  ‘Okay, that’s a bit more useful,’ Aryx said with a laugh.

  Sebastian fiddled with the controls again and the door closed while Aryx took the lift up to investigate the consoles in the work area.

  Sebastian’s head popped up through the ladder hatch. ‘Will you slow down?’

  ‘I can’t help being excited. I haven’t flown a ship for years, and there’s so much kit!’ Aryx ran his hand over the black glass of the console. ‘Yes, I definitely approve.’ He dropped the pack by the workbench and wheeled to the cockpit where Sebastian stood examining the controls.

  ‘I’m glad you like it,’ Sebastian said. ‘It’s not like we’d have much say in the matter if we didn’t.’ He pressed a button on the console. The airlock doors whumped shut downstairs.

  ‘Have you checked for bugs?’ Aryx whispered.

  Sebastian shook his head and took a small device out of his rucksack. He pressed a button on it and began walking around the ship.

  A few minutes later he came back with a handful of tiny black cubes. ‘I found one in each of the main sections. I’ll ask Agent Gladrin about them. I don’t see why SpecOps would bug their own ships.’ He activated his wristcom. ‘Call Special Projects Agent Gladrin.’

  After a moment Gladrin answered. ‘Hello, Agent Thorsson. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m sorry to call you, Sir, I wasn’t sure if you were on duty. I was just looking around the ship you issued and found some snooping devices. I didn’t know whether it was standard practice for them to be here.’

  ‘Those should have been removed by the preparation crew before the ship was released. Evidently someone hasn’t been doing their job properly! We leave them on the ships while they’re in storage, just in case they get stolen or damaged. There’s a tracking device in the pressure suit locker, if you haven’t already found it. I would be grateful if you could send them to your office at your earliest convenience.’

  Aryx raised his eyebrows. It didn’t sound like any kind of standard practice he’d heard of.

  ‘I’ll do that.
Thanks for letting me know.’

  ‘My pleasure. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  ‘Not at the moment, thank you.’

  Aryx waited for Gladrin to sign off. ‘That sounds a bit odd,’ he said, ‘but I suppose these ships being so expensive justifies taking extra measures for security.’

  ‘Hold that thought.’ Sebastian dashed down the ladder and came back a few moments later with a slightly larger version of the snoopers with a flat, delicate antenna plate in his hand.

  ‘Found it right where he said it would be, in the locker.’ He put the tracker in his rucksack along with the snoopers. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll send these to the office while you set up. I would rather not have them hanging around.’ He gestured in the direction of the pack and disappeared down the ladder.

  At least Sebastian had remembered the pack was meant to be a secret. Aryx lifted it onto the workbench. With a press of a button on the side, a flap opened and out slid the infoslate he’d set up specifically for configuring the unit.

  Sebastian returned and sat on one of the seats next to him. ‘I posted the bugs to the office. So, what is this thing? I thought you said you were doing something with your wheelchair.’

  ‘In a way. Do you remember the conversation we had the other day about constrained field emitters?’

  ‘Nope, had too much to worry about with work … Most of the CFDs I’ve seen have either been for partial shielding, or the tiny ones in those tools you use. I can’t see how you could generate a useful sized field with this.’ He gestured to the backpack. ‘Are you trying to make some kind of all-over personal shield?’

  Aryx shook his head. ‘Don’t be daft. It can’t enclose the generator. It’s better if I just show you.’ He strapped the pack to his back and fastened the leg harness. ‘Close your eyes.’

  Sebastian did as he was told.

  Aryx got out of his chair. ‘Okay, open them.’

  Sebastian opened his eyes and they looked like they were going to eject from his head.

  Aryx admired his handiwork. The missing part of his legs from the knees down had been replaced with a glowing, glassy force-field in the shape of calves, ankles and feet. ‘I’d like to introduce you to the “mobility pack”. Mobipack, for short.’ He took a faltering step towards Sebastian. ‘I realised I could use it as a prosthesis. These don’t put pressure on my legs because I’m hanging from the harness, so no trouble with my degrading bones.’

  Sebastian grinned.

  Aryx passed his fingers through the gap where his knee joint would have been. ‘There’s a bit of space between my legs and the field, for safety.’ He straightened and the legs slid out from under him. Sebastian reached forwards but was too far away to halt his fall.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  Aryx rubbed his back. ‘I don’t think anything’s broken.’ Sebastian held out his hand but Aryx brushed it away. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m okay. I can get up myself. It’s nearly frictionless. That’s where you come in.’

  ‘Was this why you mentioned the code for the ramp earlier? You need my help with the programming, and thought I might be able to copy the texture from the ramp to use on the feet.’

  ‘Yeah, you know me – I’m no good at programming.’ He sat back down in the wheelchair and pressed a few buttons on the pack. The legs vanished, and he unstrapped the pack and put it on the console.

  Sebastian rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ll check to see if I can get into the source code for the ship’s ramp.’ He reached forward and a keyboard lit up in the glass of the workbench in front of him. He tapped away and pages of source code scrolled up the display. ‘Thank the Gods these systems are all open source.’

  ‘I don’t think your Norse gods have anything to do with software.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  It was probably more out of habit that Sebastian said it, rather than because he wanted to remember his Icelandic Ásatrú heritage. Other than wearing a Thor’s hammer as a necklace and coming out with the odd utterance, Aryx had never seen any evidence that Sebastian paid any attention to his religion at all.

  After several hours’ work, the pair had found the relevant code to generate grip and transplanted it into the mobipack’s system. Sebastian added voice control and an infoslate interface so that Aryx could design field patterns on-screen in his absence.

  ‘Right, let’s try it,’ Sebastian said.

  Aryx activated the mobipack where it lay on the console. Sebastian watched slack-jawed as floating threads of light appeared in the air several inches from the pack. They whipped around as though blown by a strong wind, rapidly twisting and contorting until they settled into the outline of the prosthetics. The spaces between the luminous threads on the skin of the limbs were spanned by a glowing translucent region, like a luminescent soap film, but instead of rainbow colours swirling on the surface, an intense orange laser lacing moved about to a hypnotic rhythm within.

  ‘It looks amazing, but why does it appear more solid than the step?’ Sebastian asked.

  ‘It’s made from cheaper components. Most of it’s recycled from old ship parts. Anyway, let’s give this code a try. Mobipack, loose terrain.’ The soles of the feet rippled and Aryx touched the surface. It felt knobbly and cubic.

  ‘Feels okay. It’ll work. I can always tweak it for other surfaces.’

  Sebastian smiled, but his expression quickly changed to a frown. ‘I don’t think we’ll be able to overcome the grip problem on smooth floors, though. It’ll probably be fine on rough concrete and carpet, but not metal. That’s a basic physics problem. You’ll have to be careful. It needs more calibration, but you can do that with the slate.’

  ‘I’ll stick with the chair indoors. I only need the pack for unmanageable terrain, otherwise I’ll never get to leave the station.’

  ‘How about wearing shoes on the legs?’

  Aryx shook his head. ‘Don’t be daft. I want to carry less, not more! And they’d probably fall on the floor when I turned it off and I’d forget about them. Can you imagine the trail of boots I’d leave?’

  Sebastian laughed.

  ‘If it works for what I need it for, it’ll be fine,’ Aryx said.

  ‘You walked like a cargomech earlier, all stiff-legged. If you had gyros and pressure sensors on the generators, the legs could move at the knee and they’d know when they were on the ground.’

  ‘I’ve got a generator in this pack for each leg, so putting sensors on might work … I’ll go and see if I can get some from the storage lockup.’ Aryx made his way to the lift. ‘I’ll be a few minutes, okay?’

  Sebastian nodded. ‘Give them my requisitions ID if they complain.’

  ***

  Aryx approached the first in a row of white spherical transport pods that lined the wall at the far end of the hangar next to an opening into the transit tunnels. Each sphere housed a tinted glass-composite window in the upper front quadrant and rested against the lip of the landing platform. As he drew close, the curved door of the first pod hinged down to form a ramp.

  Inside, harnessed seating lined the rear and a console sat beneath the window at the front. Aryx reached under his chair and pulled a trigger switch, releasing a small magnet that latched on to the floor with a clunk. The console lit up and he selected the option for unlisted destinations, entering the bay number for the lockup.

  The moorings released and the pod lurched off to swoop and weave its way through the one-way tunnel. After a minute, it came to a halt in the drab grey of the storage lockup.

  He exited the pod and approached the caged-in requisitions desk, where a stern, elderly woman with hair bound up in a tight bun leaned over and frowned at him.

  ‘How can I help you?’ Her tone was flat, and anything but helpful. She must have hated her job, being stuck in that room and not seeing many people. Or did she hate people and love her job because of it?

  ‘I need some parts,’ Aryx said, ‘if you’ve got them in stock.’

/>   She spun a clipboard around on the desk and pushed it towards him. It had forms made from plaspaper; one of the few ways to have records that couldn’t be tampered with after the fact. He filled out the form and handed it back.

  She tapped away at a terminal and after a moment raised her eyebrows. ‘Mr Trevarian, you do not have a scheduled maintenance item that requires these part numbers, and we don’t issue station items for personal use.’ Her stare hardened.

  ‘I know. This is a Special Projects and Operations thing. I have a requisitions ID.’

  She handed him an infoslate and he entered the code. Her eyes widened when the clearance appeared on the terminal in front of her and she sucked air through her teeth. ‘Very well, I’ll get these for you now,’ she said, and scuttled off.

  A few minutes later, she came back with the sensors and handed them to him, along with a receipt.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ he said, and turned to leave.

  She didn’t acknowledge him. Obviously, she loved her job.

  He boarded the transport pod and entered the maintenance bay as the destination, accompanied by his security clearance code. The pod moved off, following the arc around the station’s rim, and turned in the opposite direction when it met the next junction.

  After a few minutes, it neared the private bays Sebastian had mentioned. Aryx kept his wits about him. Sebastian had often said that his nephew was obsessed with photographs of aliens and their ships, and now was a good opportunity to snap one for him. He manually overrode the speed, slowing the pod to a crawl.

  And there it was, the Folian ship, exactly as Sebastian had described. It was unusual for one to be on the station for longer than a few minutes. It did indeed look like a giant elongated walnut-almond, with long, flowing organic ridges interspersed with small holes or indentations upon its exterior. The colour was a dark tan, almost brown, and the ship didn’t have any kind of landing legs – it hung in the air next to the platform, unsupported.