Keystones: Tau Prime (17 page)

Deklan was pleasantly surprised. The drink had hints of chocolate and molasses, and the texture in his mouth was silky. His stomach for the time being was appeased.

“So how do we leave?” Jonny asked Calm. “Obviously we no longer have a ship.”

“They aren’t going to want us to stay,” replied Calm. “In their eyes we have strange ideas, and if they don’t know what a dog is, imagine what other concepts have been suppressed.”

Deklan agreed. The idea of a people who didn’t know what dogs were was alarming. The residents of Tau Prime had been isolated from the rest of humanity for only eighty-two years. Not only would that forgetfulness require a purge of information, but it also meant that Tau Primans were not talking about their lives from before.

“Even if we found a ship,” offered Deklan, “where would we go? We don’t know what flight path
The Burningsworth
followed before we found it, and we don’t have a record of where we went afterwards.”

Jamie slapped a hand down on the table. It was made of metal and bent under the impact. “Boys!” She looked at each of them in turn. “Stop complicating this. We have to leave. If they won’t help us, we need the beacon and a ship, but even before that we need to stop jumping to conclusions. Oh, and Deklan, try to grow a new foot. It could be useful.”

A trio of dull thuds sounded from the door. A pair of older women let themselves in, wheeling a trolley laden with vegetables and fish. Deklan didn’t want to think about what other meat might once have graced those plates.

Both women had hair shot through with grey and faces covered in wrinkles brought on by a lifetime of hard work. Deklan didn’t like their smiles. The women looked as though they were somewhere between benign grandmothers and predatory crocodiles. “The First would like to speak to you once you’re done with your meal,” said one old crone, her voice warbling.

Deklan glanced at his companions to assess their thoughts. “We can go now,” he replied.

“But your food will get cold,” the woman protested with annoyance in her voice.

Calm stepped forward as the official spokesman. “We will make that sacrifice out of respect for the First.”

The ladies looked scandalized but acquiesced and left the food in the kitchen.

Eric was in the hallway waiting for them. “The First,” he said, “is waiting for you in her council chambers. We’ll have to fly.”

Just outside their building was an ancient flitter. It was another antiquated invention that Deklan had read about but never seen in person. Flitters were lightweight aircraft designed for use in habitats. They had an open design that was only suitable in an environment that was never going to see rain. They reminded him of convertible cars without wheels and with limited trunk space.

Painted unsurprisingly a dull red, the Tau Prime flitter was long enough to accommodate six passengers in three rows of two. Instead of opening a door, Jonny leaped over its side into his seat. Deklan frowned at his missing foot and joined him, entering the flitter in a more traditional and sedate manner, as did Calm, occupying the front seat.

After Eric flipped switches and gripped the stick in front of him, the engines whined. “Seat belts, everyone.” Eric sounded like a bus driver who aspired to be president. “Take-off can be bumpy,” he warned, “but she’s reliable.” A vertical ascent shot them straight at the ocean of water above the habitat.

Deklan’s brain did little flip-flops as he processed the idea of rising away from the ground to approach a body of water.

Other flitters buzzed around them, some going higher and others moving end to end closer to the ground. They were midway between the ground and the water when Eric reoriented them. The water now was ahead of them and the ground above, behind, and below them in a curved wall.

Eric didn’t alter their angle of descent but instead increased the flitter’s speed as they headed straight at the river. From the ground it had looked huge; closer up it was even more impressive. Wider than a kilometer on the short side, it filled the view ahead of them.

Deklan could see that the river bustled with activity. Flitters skimmed the surface, and raft-like stations of people were busily working in their red clothes. The surface undulated with waves like an untamed sea. Schools of fish jumped by the hundreds of thousands, their silver bodies making the water boil with activity.

As the flitter skimmed only a few meters above the surface, Deklan asked, “Have you had any trouble with the fish?”

Eric looked blankly at him. “From the fish?”

“Any attacks?” Deklan didn’t stop watching the surface of the water.

Eric’s sidelong glance indicated that he thought the question odd. “No. They leave divers alone, though I’ve never gone myself.”

Deklan stopped asking questions and sat in silence as they followed the water’s curve. Perspective played tricks with him when Eric adjusted their course to angle up and straight ahead at the cityscape that previously had been below them. He felt relief as they drew closer to their destination.

Eric brought them to an orientation parallel to the ground, although they still flew above the highest buildings. One tower stood out among the other structures, an inelegant rectangle that loomed over the rest. As Eric brought them closer to the building, Deklan was sure that it was their destination. A group of people on the roof was awaiting their arrival.

The flitter came to a stop and descended vertically, touching down with a thump that jarred Deklan in his seat.

A ring of at least fifteen people surrounded their landing site, all wearing red and looking like professional security. Their faces were like carved stone as they stood rigidly at attention. Each of the men dwarfed Deklan in terms of height, shoulder width, and muscle mass.

“We’re here,” announced Eric, his voice not containing the slightest hint that such a reception was unusual.

Deklan opened the flitter’s door, hobbled out, and stumbled, going down on one knee with a solid crunch. Ignoring the mishap, he stood up again and held out a hand for Jamie. Her fingers were warm against his, and as he helped her down he whispered, “Either they think we’re dangerous, or the ruling class here is not well liked.”

For her part Jamie smiled sunnily, not disclosing that she’d heard him other than by the briefest hesitation in her movement. As always Calm looked unalarmed, but Deklan noted a forced aspect to the casualness with which he assessed the situation. Jonny also looked unworried, but he stayed near Calm.

One man broke the uniformity of their circle and came forward to Eric. “Sir,” he said, nodding without altering his stony expression. “They’re waiting for you in the large council room.”

Eric responded with a slight incline of his head. To the four visitors he then said, “Come with me,” striding forward as the ring of men opened for him.

Calm followed but made a subtle gesture with his fingers that Deklan took to mean “Stay close.”

Eric led them to a set of stairs that were inset into the roof. They were straight with a black metal railing down the center and tiled with polished white stone. Here too there was an impression of age but also of grandeur. The lights were a cool white that made the stairs glisten. Two stories down Eric brought them to an immense hallway with ceilings four meters high. The stone floor continued, but here and there the white tiles were interspersed with dark red ones. By the time they reached a set of doors, all the tiles were maroon.

Ornate double doors of anodized black steel opened to a council chamber where the First, AnnaLea, was flanked by two women and the nine members of the welcoming party. At least Deklan thought they were the same nine men. They had worn identical clothing and he’d seen them for so little time that he could have been mistaken.

“Welcome,” said AnnaLea in her mellifluous voice. “We have reviewed the data on your beacon, but we require your assistance in another matter.” She paused to gauge their reactions.

Deklan watched her with distrust. This eloquent spokeswoman was from a culture that practiced cannibalism.

“Divergences between our technology and yours left some of the data unavailable to us. We wish your help in finding anything that we might have missed.”

“Mr. Tobin,” said Calm, “you would be best qualified for that task.”

Deklan staring over his shoulder at Calm, surprised by the comment. “I’m not a . . . a,” he stammered.

“You worked on the data from
The Burningsworth
. This isn’t a specialty for any of us, but you may have insight that the rest of us lack.”

Deklan hadn’t decoded the data from
The Burningsworth
alone. That had been a joint effort with Jonny. Calm had to be sending him for another reason. He could infer only that it was because he could regenerate.

AnnaLea’s smile broadened. “Thank you,” she said. “We appreciate your willingness to help in this matter.”

Deklan felt muscles twitch in his arms and back. This was not going to end well. “My pleasure,” he replied, coughing to ease the strain in his voice. “I’m happy to help.”

“Eric, please take Mr. Tobin to our decryption center while we remain in conference.”

The idea of being separated from the others wasn’t one that pleased Deklan, but he didn’t see a graceful way of avoiding it. AnnaLea also had a good point: they needed all the information available.

“If you’d just come this way,” murmured Eric, inclining his head toward the large doors through which they had entered the council chamber.

“How far is it?” Deklan asked, thinking of how far separated he was going to be from the others.

“Not far. It’s a few stories lower in the building.”

Deklan followed Eric to the far end of the hallway, away from the stairs, where there was a bank of elevators. Six stories down and another hallway later, the transit being spent in awkward silence, he was ushered into the decryption center.

The room was a maze of computers. The background hum of activity abruptly stopped upon Deklan’s entrance. The room held seven men and women, attired uniformly in red, who stared at him like a zoo exhibit. The culture on Tau Prime was manifestly one of conformity and indoctrination.

A man started to speak. “You must. . . .” His next words were obliterated when his head exploded. Red mist and gore splattered everywhere. People screamed.

Deklan lunged to the side and fell, his prosthesis giving way under him. The tile was cool under his hands. He pulled himself along the floor and looked back to see Eric firing a gun. There were no blasts but only a series of muzzle flashes. Each flash was accompanied by the sound of people screaming and of a voice being cut short.

Then there was no screaming whatsoever. The loudest sound in the room was that of Deklan’s own breathing and approaching footsteps.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Eric’s voice sounded euphoric with anticipation. “Just stand up.”

Deklan ignored what could only be a false promise and crawled for all he was worth, his stump making a loud clunk each time it hit tile.

Gore-covered boots came down in front of Deklan’s face. As he attempted to roll away, a boot slammed down onto his chest to prevent his escape.

Eric crouched down, a demented grin on his face. “I told you that I’m not going to kill you.” He brought his gun to within centimeters of Deklan’s nose. It was anodized black, much like the doors to the council room. Deklan’s hands came up of their own accord and clawed at the long barrel.

“Filthy outsiders, you have no trust. You have no worth. You have no place here.” Eric’s face was twisted into an ugly sneer. Then it turned into a smile, the transformation being both sudden and scary. “With my help people will be reminded of why your kind are never to be allowed back.” Eric brought the muzzle up to the underside of his own chin and pulled the trigger.

A loud roar echoed from the walls as Eric’s body fell atop Deklan, blood and gore raining down on him. His face was drenched, and there was a coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Bile rose in his throat.

He heard a door burst open and a voice shout, “Murderer!”

Deklan pushed Eric off him, and the gun fell into his lap.

“Put him down!”

Men in red were aiming guns at Deklan. As he tried to take cover behind a desk, an explosion of pain shot through his shoulder. Jagged bone protruded from the wound, and his right arm hung from a scrap of mutilated flesh. When he was hit a second time, another geyser of gore erupted from his lower torso.

Air rushed into Deklan’s lungs as he tried to open his eyes. A crust held his lashes sealed together. His hands automatically came up to his face, and he felt the extent of the dried substance. It flaked away from his eyes. Deklan somehow knew that he was in a morgue on Tau Prime. He could use both hands, and there was no pain in his shoulder or torso. He wiggled his toes, all ten of them, and realized that he had his foot back.

The Tau Primans, he remembered, ate their dead. If he didn’t escape soon, they were going to cannibalize him.

Deklan began to kick with his feet when suddenly the drawer in which he lay was pulled open. The room’s bright light blinded him, but he rolled to the left, hoping that it was a good choice. Something warm and boney and screaming was in his way. Deklan muffled the scream with his hand. After he blinked several times, the room finally came into focus. His hand was over the mouth of a man dressed all in white. His skin was leathery and covered in liver spots. Watery blue eyes were wide, and weak arms flailed at Deklan.

Deklan didn’t want to kill anyone, but he also didn’t want to deal with a manhunt. He smashed his forehead against the old man’s, their skulls clacking like two coconuts in the wind. It felt worse even than it sounded.

The man crumpled. With exaggerated care Deklan wriggled from underneath the inert body and climbed out from the morgue drawer where he had awoken. While doing so he noticed a severed arm in the drawer. It had his Uplink on its wrist.

Deklan clutched as his right wrist, and he looked again at the limb lying there. His fingers traced up to his shoulder, but he felt no scar tissue or injury, nothing to indicate that he’d lost his arm. With a shaking hand he retrieved the Uplink, careful not to touch his old arm.