Seeds of Earth (54 page)

On eight mechanical, multijointed legs, Conveyance 289 provided a surprisingly smooth, comfortable steed, although stealth demanded that lamp radiance be kept to a meagre peep. In this murky grey halo, they picked their way through the immense storeroom, past mysterious mounds of belongings, or carefully stacked crates wrapped in glittery tendrils. Before long they reached the other side and a rounded, open passage leading to the next storage vault.

If anything, this room was even more crowded than the previous one, with many stacks reaching from floor to ceiling. A poorly assembled few had given way, becoming huge, slumped heaps blocking corridors or sometimes providing a short cut over slopes of dusty, enigmatic debris. Finally they came to a halt at the corner of a plinth of a huge statue depicting a creature with seven legs and three heads about to smash a hammer down on a ringed planet resting on an anvil, or maybe an altar. With one of its extensible arms, Conveyance 289 held up a triangular mirror, looted from one of the collapsed stacks, and angled it for Robert's benefit.

On the other side of the statue was a wide, clear aisle which ran straight to the far end of the vault, where a bright, shining pillar sat in the middle of the floor. It shone with a cold blue radiance, and as Robert stared at the reflected image he could make out several long, dark shapes gliding sinuously around the pillar. He swallowed nervously, feeling a tremble in his hands.

'That glowing pillar is the upgate,' said Conveyance 289.

'It doesn't look like a door or a gate,' he said.

'It will open for us when we get close enough. The plan is for the Reski Emantes to charge at the vermax from the sides and draw them away while we head straight for the gate.'

Robert glanced around and realised that he was alone in the passenger recess. 'The mechs are gone.'

'They are positioning themselves,' the mechanical said. 'We will know the signal when it comes . . .'

A voice interrupted it from the companel in the recess.

'We are ready now, 289. Human Horst, we have been honoured by the task and your acquaintance - please tender our cordialities to our descendant.'

Conveyance 289 shifted on its eight legs and Robert heard the whine of other systems starting within the mech's body as it shuffled round to face the wide aisle.

'The moment is upon us, Human Horst - hold tight and be ready to repel boarders!'

Suddenly the mech shot forward, smooth and fast, and Robert realised that they were flying along on suspensors. He was quivering with the shock and exhilaration of it. Dim walls of compacted wares flashed past on either side and he focused all his senses on the black
kezeq
shard, gripping it tight in both hands. Up ahead he caught glimpses of three fights, Track-Reski already still, one flexible track trailing and broken as a single vermax, a snake of black smoke, devoured its vitals. Hover-Reski, with two vermax chewing their way into its casing, was gliding drunkenly off down a side passageway. Tripod-Reski had lost most of one leg but was leading the remaining vermax pair a merry chase back along the wide aisle, moving with a manic, jerky gait. They were sacrificing themselves, Robert knew, yet they had mentioned a descendant. . .

The shining pillar was directly ahead, widening and growing brighter as they rushed towards it. Robert's fear began turning to relief tinged with a pang of sorrow at the small mechs' fate. The gate opened, shimmering silver and gold and icy blue, and as they plunged into it Robert was momentarily dazzled.

'Human Horst, I was wrong - there were . . . six .. .'

He felt Conveyance 289 quiver but his eyesight was blurred, showing him only a flowing, flickering tunnel.

'Help me, Human Horst, I am under attack . . . use the
kezeq
sssshhaarrrrddd ...'

He blinked, eyes widening as he saw the vast walls of opaque images and fractured landscapes past which they fell. His mind rebelled. A primal terror was trying to make him curl up into a whimpering ball, eyes closed. But his eyes were open and he saw one of the vermax attached to the forepart of the mech's carapace, eating its way inwards. Shivering with cold and fear, Robert loosened the couch straps, moved carefully forward to lean halfway out of the recess and with the shard lashed out at the writhing black snake.

It squirmed and he stabbed it again and again. As it began to disintegrate something hot and bristly landed on his left shoulder and bit his ear with what felt like a mouthful of needles. Crying out, he lurched backwards, trying to twist away, and saw yet another vermax clinging to his shoulder, its fang-ringed mouth splattered with his blood as it reared back, readying for another lunge.

Robert screamed in terror and hate and thrust the
kezeq
shard at his attacker, ramming it into the open gullet as he slipped off the couch. The vermax thrashed, its hot bristling form hissing as it shoved itself against his neck, despite the sword.

Which he could feel pressed against his skin and face by the ferocity of the assault. Then suddenly the vermax let out a brittle rasp and began to break apart. By now Robert had slumped to the floor of the passenger recess and with the vermax crumbling to dry pieces of blackness he tried to lift or push the terrible, nullifying cold of the shard away. But the fingers of his right hand had lost all strength while his left side felt like a block of ice from shoulder to hip, from his neck up into his head.

Whiteness flowed. He could hear Conveyance 289 speaking to him but it was far, far away, icy echoes of words dissolving in the cold along with the strange, translucent walls that flew silently past.

In his thoughts, whiteness flowed.

53

THEO

They were fifteen minutes from the landing field's western boundary when a comm began beeping inside Pyatkov's greatcoat. Theo and Donny glanced at each other then watched the intelligence chief reach into his coat.

'How come you've got a comm that works?' Donny said.

'It's not a comm,' Pyatkov said as he produced an odd, white object shaped like a curved teardrop. He put the bulbous end to his ear and said, 'Yes?'

For a moment he was silent, listening, then:

'We did not know of this ... we need at least thirty to forty minutes . . . yes, it seems likely ... I understand . , . I'll await your call, sir.'

'Is there a problem?' Theo said as Pyatkov put away the comm device. 'Was that someone from the Imisil delegation, and what is that thing?'

'It is an Imisil comset,' Pyatkov said. 'I was speaking to Ambassador Gauhux himself and he says that there are violent anti-Hegemony demonstrations going on in Port Gagarin and Hammergard tonight. Kuros has all but accused the Imisil delegation of fomenting civil unrest and has demanded that the Imisil leave Darien space immediately. Gauhux is already on board his shuttle and is trying to stall for time, but Kuros is threatening to have the port security force open fire if he doesn't lift off.'

Theo's heart sank. 'But Rory and his lads are due to set their diversion rolling in twenty minutes and we've no way of calling them back. We could get through to the launch pads only to see that shuttle take off . . .'

'No danger of that happening,' said Donny. 'That's it away now . . .'

Theo hastily shifted over to the other side of the bus and saw clusters of glowing vortices climbing quickly into the night sky. At the same time, Pyatkov's comset beeped.

'Yes sir ... I fully understand ... is there? ... would they? . . . ah, I see . . . indeed, sir ... . thank you for all your help.'

With the call over, Pyatkov weighed the teardrop device in his hand for a moment, then nodded. 'Well?' said Theo. 'We go ahead as planned.'

Donny burst out laughing. 'So ye do have a sense o' humour!'

Pyatkov looked at him. 'The Imisil had no choice Kuros threatened to send over interceptors from the
Purifier
and blow their ship out of orbit, and they take Hegemony threats very seriously.'

'So why are we going ahead with this?' Theo said.

'Because one of the
Heracles's
shuttles, a cutter they call it, is sitting in a hangar on the west side of the launch fields. Captain Barbour, you've trained on the Imisil simulator - what Earthsphere vessels are you familiar with?'

'Hmm, tug, scow, repair gig, and close-support fighter ^ the basics are pretty much the same, though.' An anticipatory smile came to his lips. 'A shuttle shouldna be very different.'

'And then what?' Theo said. 'Assuming that you can get this shuttle up and into space, into orbit, where do you go? Will the Imisil ship wait around, and if not what are we going to do?'

'Ask the captain of the
Heracles
for political asylum,' said Pyatkov. 'It's certain that he has very specific orders concerning non-interference, but what if a group of Darien colonists turns up near his ship in a hijacked Earthsphere shuttle, begging for safe haven? If Velazquez handed us over to the Hegemony it would mean the end of his career because his crew would know, which means that the story would inevitably get out to the Earthsphere media. He would have to bring us on board.'

Theo smiled in resignation. 'That's a very big "if"."

'Perhaps, but I am sure of it.' Pyatkov looked at his watch and tapped the bus driver on the shoulder, telling him to slow down. 'We're almost at the outer perimeter checkpoint. There are two guards so I'll distract them with my ID and official papers while the pair of you sandbag them from behind.'

It went smoothly. Minutes after they had the guards tied up, a call came through on the checkpoint cable comm to raise the security level because of an intruder alert on the western fence. Donny took the call, disguising his voice to sound as if he had a bad cold. At the inner perimeter checkpoint the same gambit worked, and the bus with the Enhanced was through in just over five minutes.

The wooden hangar housing the Earthsphere shuttle was the middle one of a line of three alongside the taxiing runway. Leaving the bus in a ditch behind a cluster of bushes, the Enhanced and their armed escorts skulked through the shadows towards their goal, looking out for a side or back entrance. There were a couple of port security guards out the front while inside a solitary Earthsphere marine kept watch from a partitioned office. Infiltration went like clockwork, all the guards put out of action soundlessly and non-lethally. With the marine bound and sat over to one side, they quietly came out of the office into the hangar proper. The shuttle was a snub-nosed, large-bellied craft about 30 feet long with its stubby wings spreading from the upper fuselage. While the Enhanced waited in the office, Theo, Donny, Pyatkov and the driver, Giorgi, went over to look at the shuttle's main hatch. They were nearly there when a tall Brolturan soldier stepped through a door in the hangar's massive swing shutter, saw them and opened fire.

There was a stuttering, whicking sound and Giorgi went down, bleeding from head, neck and back, while another burst caught Pyatkov in the shoulder and sent him sprawling forward. Donny and Theo dived for cover behind the shuttle, handguns at the ready. The Brolturan started shouting at them and firing short bursts under the shuttle. Theo cursed and began climbing up onto the upper hull while Donny tried dodging this way and that. Theo was lying flat on the centre of the wing surface when the office door opened and one of the Enhanced, a slender, blonde woman, walked out and called to the Brolturari. Her hand was already raised as if in greeting but as he turned her hand snapped forward, arm abruptly outstretched. The soldier let out a gasping cry, dropped his autorifle, started to bring up one hand, then collapsed to the hangar floor with something jutting from his eye. The female Enhanced walked over, studied him with intense, stem eyes, then turned and went back to the office.

Theo meanwhile was scrambling down from the shuttle and hurrying to where Donny was already kneeling next to Pyatkov.

'How is he?' he said.

Donny looked grim, but before he could answer, Pyatkov spoke.

'Bastard ... got me with ... one of those flechette machiners . . . clawstorm they call it.. . how did you get him ...'

'One of the Enhanced did,' Donny said. 'Tall blonde woman.'

Pyatkov smiled. 'Irenya,
da,
of course ...' He looked at Donny. 'The hatch . .. code is blue 24, red 18, green 09 . . .' He paused to grimace at the pain, and Theo knew he was dying - there was too much blood. 'Giorgi? . . .' Donny shook his head. 'A good man - he deserved a better death ... you must go. Just leave me over ... somewhere with his gun ...' He stared at Theo and Donny, then gave a savage grin. 'No one will be . . . looking into my head - I have a hollow tooth ...
nyet,
don't argue, just ... do it!'

So they did. In six minutes, everyone was on board,

Donny in the pilot couch in the tiny two-man cockpit, the five Enhanced strapped into passenger seating in the midsection compartment, and Theo moving Pyatkov over to sit against a crate near the office, the Brolturan weapon in his lap. The Russian's eyes were barely open and his entire shoulder and side were soaked in blood. 'Hangar door . . . office . . .'

Theo nodded, and as he reached through the office window to thumb the button he felt his skin prickle when Donny powered up the shuttle's antigravity generators.

That's it,
he thought.
As soon as that door starts lifting, the terminal guards'll come running.

Pyatkov's eyes were closed when he turned round and Theo could not tell if he was still breathing or not.

'Goodbye, Vitaly,' he said quietly then hurried to the shuttle, ducked inside and closed the hatch. As it autosealed, he glanced along a short passage to where the Enhanced were sitting straight-backed, eyes closed, hands resting palms-up on their knees. Then the shuttle lurched and swayed slightly and he stumbled forward to the cockpit. As he strapped into the copilot couch with shaking hands, Donny gave a pleased laugh.

'Nice ship, this,' he said. 'Responsive controls, clearly tagged instruments and even an overhead holodisplay.' He glanced at Theo. 'You ever flown before? To Nivyesta, I mean.'