Synthesis Read online

  Aryx held up his wristcom and took several photographs, then set the pod’s speed to automatic and waited patiently to reach the hangar. Sebastian was going to love it.

  The pod came to rest behind the others in the hangar and Aryx headed back to the Ultima Thule.

  ‘You won’t believe what I managed to get a picture of,’ he said, entering the cockpit.

  Sebastian looked up from the console. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘The Folian ship you saw earlier.’

  His eyes widened and lips parted. ‘Let me see!’

  Aryx downloaded the pictures from his wristcom to the workbench console and the list of images came up on the display. Sebastian tapped the screen. The first picture showed the private bay area in exquisitely sharp detail.

  ‘Where’s the ship?’ Sebastian asked.

  While it showed the bay in the best detail possible for the wristcom camera, the ship itself was a blurry smudge, as though someone had printed the image in oil paint and dragged their thumb across it.

  ‘I … don’t get it …’ Aryx said. Was his wristcom broken? He moved on to the next image. It was from a slightly different angle, but the result was the same, and the two subsequent images were similarly distorted. ‘What the hell could cause that?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Sebastian slowly shook his head. ‘Some kind of cloaking technology?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of any race having cloaking technology. Stealth tech that blocks radar and EM scans, yes, but I don’t know of anything that blurs out an object in a photograph like this. This is just … weird. I suppose this makes you want to see inside one even more, now?’

  ‘Too right.’

  It was too much of a challnge to get Sebastian’s mind off the puzzle of the Folian ship for the rest of the afternoon, so Aryx focused on adapting the mountings inside the mobipack to accommodate the new pressure sensors.

  By the evening, the pack was in a usable state. He’d conducted several test walks and not fallen over.

  ‘This is great,’ Aryx said, packing his tools away. ‘At least if we have to go anywhere off-station I’ll have less trouble getting about.’

  ‘Well, don’t get your hopes up,’ Sebastian said. ‘I think the SpecOps project is probably going to be more desk work than anything else.’

  Aryx’s stomach growled like a wild animal. They’d been working so intently that they hadn’t even thought about stopping for lunch.

  Sebastian looked down at Aryx’s abdomen. ‘Do you fancy going to one of the open air restaurants for dinner?’

  ‘It would be nice after being cooped up here all day.’

  He stood up and stretched. Several vertebrae cracked back into place as he straightened.

  ‘Your posture is crap.’

  ‘I can’t help that I slouch when I’m concentrating.’ He gestured at the mobipack. ‘Do you want to put that in a secure locker downstairs?’

  ‘I suppose. Have you removed all access other than ours?’

  ‘Yes, stop fretting. Where do you want to go for dinner?’

  Aryx scratched his chin. ‘I fancy one of those places with al fresco areas under the trees. And no, you’re not taking me to that awful place that does potato as their speciality. Whoever thought up the name Spud Nick’s ought to be shot. The guy who owns it isn’t even called Nick!’

  Sebastian laughed. ‘Sorry about that. I know it’s a bit greasy-spoon for your tastes.’

  Aryx locked the mobipack in one of the storage compartments in the hold, left the ship, and headed for the hangar exit.

  Sebastian coughed behind him. ‘I thought we might go via the transport pods.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Aryx called over his shoulder. ‘To see if the Folian ship is still there, no doubt?’ He turned to face him. ‘You’re so predictable.’

  ‘You got me there.’ Sebastian shrugged. ‘What can I say? I’m curious.’

  ‘We shouldn’t waste station resources making unnecessary trips.’

  Sebastian frowned.

  Aryx sighed. ‘Just this once then, as long as it shuts you up.’

  Sebastian grinned, and jogged off in the direction of the transports.

  They entered the pod and Aryx chose a destination in the atrium that would take them around the return junction past the Folian ship. He clamped his chair down once again and the pod set off.

  Sebastian sat on the edge of his seat, coiled like a cat about to pounce. As the first of the empty bays passed, he sprang up and pressed his face against the window and the spherical pod rocked.

  ‘Bloody sit down!’

  ‘I want to see the ship.’

  ‘Get in the harness. Are you trying to get us both killed?’

  Sebastian sneered. ‘Artificial gravity. These things are perfectly safe, see?’ He jumped and the pod wobbled.

  ‘For your own safety, please remain seated,’ the computer said.

  He folded his arms and flopped into the seat with a deep scowl on his face.

  The bay slid into view. It was empty.

  Sebastian’s face reddened. ‘That’s so frustrating!’

  ‘I’m sure there will be another occasion.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Stop acting like a spoiled child! Think yourself lucky. You’ve been given a job many would kill for along with that ship and other stuff. It’s more than most people get after working their entire lives!’

  Sebastian sighed. ‘Yes, but—’

  Aryx elbowed him sharply in the ribs; Sebastian merely grunted. The N-suit’s impact protection apparently worked.

  ***

  Sunlight came through the sky-pattern filters of the atrium bright and warm, and the trees rustled in the gentle breeze generated by the station’s rotation.

  Aryx stretched his arms and took in a deep breath of fresh air. ‘Smell those flowers.’

  Sebastian sniffed. ‘Lovely.’

  ‘It’s the closest we’ll get to Earth for a while. We’ve got two years left before a free round-trip, so make the most of it.’

  ‘I’d forgotten it was that long.’

  ‘Right, where’s the food?’ Aryx asked. His stomach rumbled.

  ‘There’s a place that does Italian pizza on one of the upper terraces, if you fancy that.’ Sebastian pointed to a spot high up on the third tier.

  ‘As long as they do proper coffee and decent food, I don’t care. My stomach is threatening to take out the hull.’

  Sebastian led him towards a ramp by the river and they made their way up the long, curving slope from one side of the atrium to the other, where it joined a walkway on the terrace above.

  A group of bald humanoids, dressed in bright purple robes, strode towards them.

  ‘Oh no, the Antari delegates.’ Aryx grabbed Sebastian by the hips and positioned himself behind him. ‘Don’t let them see me – they complain about everything.’

  Sebastian shuffled to the top of the first ramp, dragging Aryx behind him, and doubled back along an adjacent ramp in the opposite direction. It was a long route to take, and Aryx had to push up the slope, but at least he was out in the open air – and avoiding the Antari in the process. At the top they headed along the terrace for a hundred yards and took another bridge to the other side.

  ‘I’m glad you know where you’re going,’ Aryx said. ‘It’s like a bloody maze up here.’

  Sebastian towed him past a large, point-arched opening in the left-hand wall, surrounded by an eclectic selection of old Earth religious symbols. Through the open door, a long, red carpet ran fifty metres to the wall at the far end, where large, coloured panes of glass tinted the purple nebula beyond. In front of the window, at the top of three steps, sat a long, box-like table upon which rested a set of candles. Along the length of the hall, to the right of the carpet runner, were rows of low, wooden benches where several people sat with their heads bowed. Left of the runner, white-robed individuals knelt upon rugs on low circular podiums. They slowly raised their heads, quietly spoke, and bowed until their fo
reheads touched the carpet.

  Sebastian stopped. ‘I’ve never seen the panchurch with the door open before.’

  Aryx stared at the podium-sitters, who slowly rotated in unison. ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘Praying.’

  He scratched his head. ‘I don’t see why they’re turning around.’

  Sebastian let out a sigh. ‘They’re Muslims. They have to face Mecca when they pray, obviously.’

  ‘Oh yes … Obviously.’ Aryx shrugged and quickly wheeled past the opening. Religion was weird.

  They turned on to a wide, half-hexagon section of terrace that jutted out from the high atrium wall, overhanging the terrace below by several yards, where a sign stood in front of a long glass shopfront with a small canopy above. The sign read ‘Q’orrig’s Pizzeria’. Across from the restaurant, separated by the sidewalk, grew a well-tended lawn with three large birch trees. Near the base of each tree were several tables with umbrellas. Sebastian sat at one of the tables and activated the service beacon while Aryx moved a seat out of the way and parked his chair in the gap.

  A few moments later, a young girl came out with a couple of menus. She placed them on the table and said, ‘Welcome to Q’orrig’s Pizzeria. Can I get you some drinks?’

  ‘I’d like a mineral water, please,’ Sebastian said.

  Aryx quickly scanned the list. ‘I’ll have a double shot of Espresso, thank you.’

  ‘Would you like to order now?’

  ‘I’ll have the rim-river seafood with extra olives,’ Sebastian said.

  Aryx didn’t even have to check the menu. ‘I’ll have a large ham and pineapple, with a stuffed crust.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not real ham – it’s formed mycoprotein. Is that okay?’

  Annoying, but as real meat was often difficult to come by … ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

  The waitress dashed off with their orders and they sat watching the projected clouds pass overhead, the brightness of which had been slowly decreasing while they travelled from the transport to the restaurant. The light, humid breeze gave the impression of a warm summer’s evening and, as the simulated dusk descended, the solar filters cleared, revealing the glowing, deep-purple nebula hanging against the starry patina of space. Small lights came on around the tables and handrails lining the walkways, and tiny glowing insects the station’s gardeners had introduced flitted amongst the flowers and branches of the trees. Aryx smiled as he watched the nebula turning overhead, and was overcome by an unexpected longing to camp out under the stars on some exotic planet.

  The waitress returned and placed their food on the table. Sebastian waved his wristcom over the infoslate she presented.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and moved off to serve some other customers that had arrived.

  The fruity aroma of pineapple made Aryx’s jaw pucker, and he tore into his pizza. Initially, it tasted as good as it smelt, and the mycoprotein was just like meat, but he wasn’t too sure about what had been used instead of pineapple.

  Sebastian stopped chewing. He was staring right past Aryx, over his shoulder, and his eyes were wide.

  Aryx tensed. What? he mouthed.

  Sebastian replied in kind. Antari.

  Chapter 4

  Aryx cringed as several haughty, high-pitched voices spoke behind him, almost in unison. ‘What have you done to our ship?’

  He dropped his pizza and turned. The throng of six purple-robed Antari delegates stood right behind him.

  ‘I repaired it – just like you asked.’

  The Antari at the front of the group frowned and the ordinarily smooth, bald head creased right up over his forehead to the back. ‘The thrusters are off by ten Hertz.’

  ‘What do you mean?

  ‘The one you repaired does not sound like the others. It was functioning perfectly before you interfered with it.’

  ‘It wasn’t functioning perfectly, it was knacker—’ He took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t working at all.’

  ‘That is beside the point. It is no longer in tune with the others.’

  His throat tightened. They had to spoil his meal, didn’t they? ‘It’s functioning fine now I’ve fixed it.’ He set his jaw.

  ‘We will complain to your manager,’ the leader said. The group turned and glided away.

  ‘Complain then! And he’ll agree with me – it’s not a bloody musical instrument!’

  The Antari at the back of the group turned its head one hundred and eighty degrees to face him and continued to glare until they slid out of sight.

  ‘They get on my nerves,’ he growled through gritted teeth.

  ‘I can tell,’ Sebastian said. ‘I caught one hacking the computer system yesterday.’

  ‘They don’t half creep me out … Never seem to see them in the atrium in the day – that’s probably why.’ Aryx shook his head. He had to get his mind off the confrontation, especially when he was trying to eat. ‘Did you check your mail this morning?’

  ‘You sent me something about an unidentified message.’

  ‘I didn’t think you could get incomplete ones like that.’

  ‘You can’t – at least, you’re not supposed to.’

  ‘That’s why I sent it. I thought it might be a security problem, or a bug in the station software.’

  ‘I’ll take a look tomorrow. What were you doing checking messages at that time of the morning, anyway?’

  ‘I wasn’t. I woke up from a nightmare and noticed the light.’

  ‘I had a nightmare the other morning, too.’ Sebastian rubbed his chin. ‘I had a call from my sister-in-law shortly afterwards. That was about the same time, I think. I thought the computer let the message through because I was up.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of them doing that, not unless the privacy controls had been disabled.’

  Sebastian scratched his head. ‘I’ll definitely have to check it out then, it’s too much of a coincidence.’ He resumed munching on a slice of pizza.

  Aryx leaned forwards and rested his elbow on the table. ‘What was your nightmare about?’

  Sebastian looked up, still chewing. ‘Eigh donn r’mmb’r mhh.’

  ‘At least swallow first. You’re so rude sometimes.’

  He gulped. ‘Sorry. I don’t remember much of it. I was walking through some mist, not getting anywhere. Something touched my shoulder, I turned around, and at that point I woke up sweating. What was yours?’

  ‘I was in my apartment,’ Aryx said, leaning back in his chair. ‘Some kind of little monster was coming towards me, rustling through the plants. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but it scared the crap out of me.’ He was surprised at his own choice of words.

  ‘I hate nightmares. I’ve had a few lately. It’s really odd.’ Sebastian shrugged. ‘Until a couple of weeks ago, I hardly ever had them.’

  ‘Me neither. I just hope I don’t have it again, or I’m going to end up going off my plants. It’s probably this excitement about SpecOps that’s started it.’

  They finished their meal and headed off the extended terrace back towards the lift, passing the restaurant.

  Aryx stopped. There was movement at the back of the kitchen: a giant, four-armed insectoid throwing dough. ‘I thought you said this was an Italian pizza place!’

  Sebastian grinned. ‘I said that it was a place that did Italian pizza, not that they were made by Italians. Q’orrig is a Q’vani name, after all. I really don’t know what you expected.’

  Aryx laughed. ‘You never tell me the whole story from the outset. I’m no racist, it’s just that when it comes to food, I like to know I’m getting what I expect.’

  ‘Hah! You’re like that with just about everything. It was too much of an opportunity to pass up – the look on your face said it all. It tasted the same, didn’t it?’ Sebastian rubbed his chin repeatedly while they waited for the lift. ‘I’ll check those messages out first thing and then meet you at the ship. We’ll have to make a start on the SpecOps project tomorrow. I’m glad we got your m
obipack done, though.’

  ‘Thanks for the help. I couldn’t have finished it without you. I’d love to patent it and market it someday.’

  ‘I hope you do. It feels good to be part of something that could benefit others like that.’

  They took the lift to the habitation level and went their separate ways. Aryx sped home from the terminal. What could the SpecOps box contain? He couldn’t wait to get his hands on it, but at the same time he prayed it wasn’t a bomb.

  ***

  Sebastian sat alone in a shuttle. The engines at the back of the ship hummed quietly to themselves and stars slid past the windows while he worked the navigational controls, checking maps and cross-referencing coordinates.

  The display blinked off and on, interrupting his work. He thumped the console, knowing full well that it wouldn’t help.

  ‘What’s wrong with this thing?’ He stopped work on the map and ran a diagnostic routine. The overhead lights flickered. The hairs on his neck bristled; someone or something was watching him. He slowly turned the seat to face the back of the ship.

  He was alone.

  The lights and consoles at the far end went off, leaving the rear section in darkness, and an ominous, mouldering shadow approached from the stern as one by one the lights extinguished, until the last light went out, plunging him into darkness. Even the stars had gone.

  An eerie silence followed – not even the thrum of the engines penetrated it. Only his adrenaline-fuelled breath grated in his ears.

  Disorientated, he reached out to steady himself on the console. His hands passed through the space where it should have been and he fell to the floor. He reached behind him, feeling for the chair, but it was no longer there. What was happening? He struggled to stand up and regain his balance, and another, harsher, breathing joined his. A cold shiver went through him.

  A rasping voice said, ‘Se-ba-sti-aaaan!’

  The chill of the adrenaline rush turned to one of panic, and he whirled around trying to determine where in the darkness the unseen speaker lay.

  Sharp claws raked, fiery, down his back. He screamed.