Skyfall (27 page)

Lari did so, tapping his head against the side of the helmet. A soft tone chimed in his ears, and a small red light glowed against the faceplate.

‘How's that.'

‘Good.' Janil placed a light headset on his own head and spoke through the pickup. ‘You're also taking vid feed through the helmet and we'll monitor that, too. When you're in there, make sure you stay out of her reach.'

‘Why?'

‘She's traumatised, wild and unpredictable. We've got no way of knowing how she'll react to you, but if she attacks and manages to damage your suit or helmet then you're in big trouble.'

‘Do you think that's likely?'

‘Don't know. Subjects react to field recovery in different ways.'

‘What else?'

‘That's about it.'

‘What am I supposed to do in there?'

‘At this point, nothing. Try talking to her. See what responses you get. Try and reassure her that she'll be looked after. Other than that, this is just to make contact. Above all, though, be scientific.'

‘Eh?'

‘Be detached. You're not there to be her friend, you're going in to study her and to establish a rapport that will allow us to interrogate her for information which we'd like her to give willingly. You need to establish a scientific relationship with the girl, and nothing more. Don't personalise it.'

‘I'll give it a try.'

Janil shook his head. ‘Don't try. Do. Trying's not going to cut it, copygen. Are you ready?'

‘I guess.'

‘Over here.'

Walking in the suit was an effort. Janil scanned the access plate and the large hatchway slid back to reveal an airlock with just enough room for perhaps three suited-up people.

‘The other hatch will open automatically when this one seals. Once you're in the chamber it'll close behind you.'

‘How do I open it to get out?'

‘You can't. Father or I will trigger it from upstairs. It's a safety precaution.'

‘Safety?'

‘If you can't open the door, she can't force you to.'

‘She's been in a coma for a week. She couldn't force me, even if she wanted to.'

Awkwardly, Lari stepped over the low coaming of the hatchway and into the airlock, then turned back to face his brother.

‘Have fun.' Janil's grin was wolfish as he waved his wrist across the control plate again and the outer hatch slid shut, sealing Lari inside the airlock. In his ears, the heave of his breathing and the whirr of an extraction fan on the back of the suit seemed like thunder.

Then the inner door was sliding open and a bright wedge of light streamed in. As it washed over him, Lari tensed, expecting to feel something – heat or even just mild warmth. There was nothing, though. The daysuit's shielding did its work well.

‘Can you hear me, Larinan?'

‘Yes, Dad.'

‘Are you all right?'

‘I'm fine.'

The inner door was completely open and in the glaring light beyond it Lari could make out the shape of the girl sitting up on the podium, alert, watching.

‘It'll probably take a moment for your eyes to adjust, copygen. As soon as you can see properly, get inside. It's not a good idea to leave the lock open too long.'

Even through the filtering faceplate of his helmet, spots danced across Lari's vision.

‘What do I do in there? What am I supposed to say?'

‘Just hurry up, copy—'

‘Be natural and introduce yourself, Larinan,' his father cut in. ‘What she needs at this point is to know she's not completely alone and that we're people just the same as her.'

Except we fly in machines at night and can't survive in daylight,
Lari thought to himself.
Exactly the same.
His vision was clearing now, as his eyes grew used to the brightness.

‘I'm going in.'

‘About time.'

From down here the chamber seemed deeper and narrower than it had appeared from obs. As Lari entered, he glanced up to where he knew his father and brother were watching. The mirrored clearcrete reflected the whiteness of the inside of the chamber so effectively that they were invisible from down here.

‘That's it, Larinan. Good boy.'

The moment he stepped across the threshold the girl tensed, crouching like a caged animal, ready to spring away. She watched through dark, unblinking eyes.

‘Talk to her, Larinan.'

‘Hello,' he offered hesitantly.

‘Great opening line, copygen. Glad we sent you down there and not me.'

‘Ignore your brother, Larinan. Walk towards her slowly, but don't get too close. You don't want to threaten her.'

‘Good thing he's got that helmet covering his face, then.'

‘That's enough, Janil. If you're not going to help, then stay quiet.'

Lari drew in a deep breath and took a couple of tentative steps towards the girl. Immediately she scrambled backwards, putting the podium between herself and him.

‘It's okay, I won't hurt you. Really, you're safe.'

The girl didn't reply. From up close, she was even less substantial than Lari had realised, nothing but skin and bone.

‘What's your name?'

He moved to walk around the podium but the girl circled opposite, keeping the padded platform between them. Lari tried to read her expression, but it was difficult, she was so … different. With almond-shaped eyes and a small, narrow mouth, her whole face was built differently from anyone he'd ever met.

‘Just take it slowly, Larinan. Don't make her feel like you're trying to catch her or anything.'

‘Okay, Dad.'

‘Toggle, Larinan!'

‘Shi!' Lari cursed and bumped the helmet switch to close down the external com circuit.

‘Don't worry, Larinan, people do it all the time,' his father said.

The lights flared slightly and the comset crackled interference in Lari's ears for a couple of moments, so if his brother replied Lari didn't hear it, but when the crackling died down, Janil was back on the line.

‘You still there, copygen?'

‘Of course.'

‘What happened? Thought we'd lost you.'

‘The lights.The comlink died when they flared.'

‘The lights flared?'

‘You didn't see it?'

‘Nope. The autotint must have filtered it. Funny. They're not supposed to do that.'

Lari could hear muffled conversation in the background. Then Janil came back on the line.

‘Listen, Lari, your exposure is still well in the green, but we're going to pull you out early, just to be sure, okay? You've probably got another five minutes or so.'

‘How come? Because of the lights?'

‘Don't waste time asking us questions. Toggle your com back on and try talking to her again.'

‘What am I supposed to say?'

‘Anything that comes into your head. Just be reassuring.'

Lari sighed and toggled the helmet switch. Sweat was pouring down his face.

‘Can you hear me?' he asked. The girl's eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than dark, glittering slits in her face. ‘My name is Lari. What's yours?'

‘Shi, copygen! Don't tell her your name! Weren't you listening when I told you to be scientific? Stay detached.'

Lari ignored his brother. Across the room, the girl had frozen.

‘I won't hurt you, I promise. Underneath this suit I'm exactly the same as you, really. I want to help you. That's why I'm here. Are you sure you won't tell me your name?'

The girl shook her head.

‘Excellent work, Larinan.' His father sounded genuinely excited. ‘You got a response.'

This time Lari remembered to toggle the comlink off.

‘Not much of a one, though. She won't talk.'

‘It's a start, Larinan. It's a start.'

The lights flared again, brighter this time, and Lari felt a flush of warmth tingle across his skin. Somewhere down in his left sleeve, his wristband gave an insistent chime and sent a warning shiver along his arm. Green flashes sparked briefly across the backs of his eyes and he staggered slightly.

‘What happened?'

‘The lights flared again. My band is chiming.'

‘Janil?'

‘Get him out.' His brother's voice sounded calm, but Lari could hear a hint of something else in it. ‘Now.'

‘Okay. Larinan, say goodbye and wait beside the door. Don't stop watching her for a second, especially when the door is opening.'

‘Fine.' Lari took a moment to steady his breathing, then hit the com switch again.

‘I have to go now. But I'll come back, okay? I'll come and see you again tomorrow, and perhaps you can tell me your name then.'

‘Good, Larinan. Now back away.'

Lari did as instructed until he felt the wall at his back.

‘I'm opening the inner hatch now. Janil will meet you in the locker room.'

Behind him, the opening in the wall slid silently open, and Lari almost fell back into the dimness, the girl's dark eyes watching him all the way.

She watches him go.

Lari.

She turns the name over silently on her tongue.

A nightperson with a name.

And he doesn't know hers. Which gives her power over him, of a sort.

The opening in the wall is sliding back now, the crack of darkness narrowing until it disappears altogether, taking the silver-skinned man with it. As soon as it has gone, she slips off the raised sleeping mat and scurries over to the place in the wall where he vanished. There's nothing there – no opening that she can detect. Not even the tiniest seam.

‘Underneath this suit, I'm exactly the same as you, really …'

She doesn't know what a ‘suit' is, but she can take a guess.

Exactly the same.

Except that she couldn't feel him, not even slightly. When she reached towards him, all she felt was the pulse of the skyfire.

It was like reaching for a dead person, or one who'd been burnt. He felt like Baanti, lying on the floor of the hut after she'd …

She shakes her head, pushing aside memories best left forgotten.

‘What's your name?' he'd asked her twice. As though he really wanted to know. Or needed to know.

Saria decides not to tell him.

Not yet, anyway.

She wonders how many more of them are there, outside the round room, watching her, waiting for her name.

She knows it'll do no good, but she decides to try and reach out there and find out.

Saria closes her eyes, draws a deep breath, goes inside herself and reaches into …

Nothing.

Only cold skyfire.

But around her, the glaring light flares up again brighter than ever …

Below him, the airlock slid open and Dernan Mann watched Larinan half-stumble backwards over the coaming in his rush to get out of that flaring light. Then he sighed with relief.

Larinan had done it. Perhaps not as well as he'd have liked, but at least it was something.

The airlock closed and the girl leapt over to it, fast. She moved much faster than Dernan thought she'd be able to, especially so soon after waking. He watched as she slowly searched the wall with her fingertips, scratching at the invisible hairlines where the door sealed.

She wouldn't be able to move it, of course. None of them ever had. But they all tried. Her mother had done exactly the same thing the first time Eyna had visited her. She'd done it differently, though. In her there'd been more … desperation. Or something like it.

Closing his eyes, Dernan Mann could still see the whole scene. From the moment Eyna had emerged into the chamber it had gone badly. The subject reacted like a frightened, cornered animal. First she'd hurled herself against the walls, frantic in her efforts to stay as far from Eyna as possible, and then when she realised that nothing she did would help – that she really was trapped – she attacked; hurling herself scratching and hissing at Eyna, feral in her ferocity, until Eyna had to back away and let them tranq down the chamber again.

Even then, as the air was filling with sedative, the girl had fought the gas, dragging herself across the floor to paw desperately, futilely, at the miniscule line along the bottom of the hatchway, before finally passing out again.

‘She's unstable,' he'd said to Eyna, the moment she'd returned from the locker room.

‘You didn't expect her to hug me, did you?'

‘I didn't expect an attack.'

‘Sky, Dernan! We've just removed her from her home and newborn child, kept her in an induced coma for a fortnight and then come at her in a daysuit. Of course she's not going to react well.'

‘Do you think we'll be able to get through to her?'

‘Give me time.' Eyna had crossed to the windows and stared down into the room where Jani lay sprawled by the hatchway, abandoned on the floor like a child's rag doll, carelessly discarded. ‘Poor little thing. She's more traumatised than I'd hoped, but I can't say I'm surprised.'

‘All her readings and scans are good, though. There's no indication as to why she should have lost the child.'

He still remembered the look in his wife's eyes. ‘Nothing at all?'

‘No. Bloodwork is all clear, physiology fine – some tearing from the birth, but nothing out of the ordinary for an unassisted natural. We've healed her up without a problem. She's even lactating. All the signs are that the child should have been born without any problems.'

‘And yet they burnt it. Surely they wouldn't—'

‘Even the Subjects wouldn't destroy a viable child.'

‘They must have known we were coming, though.'

‘I don't see how.'

‘Dernan, we've always come. Every time for years.'

‘So what's your point?'

‘What if they didn't burn it?'

The two scientists looked at one another.

‘We'd have found it,' Dernan finally said. ‘We were there in minutes. It was newborn. There's nowhere they could have hidden it, no way they could have separated it from her that fast. There were remains in the fire …'

‘But not enough to be conclusive. Just think, Dernan – if the baby
is
still out there, it would explain a lot: her fitness, her apparent fertility and her desperation to get out of here.'

Dernan Mann joined his wife by the window. ‘Do you really think they could have?'

‘If someone tried to forcibly remove me from Janil, even for a second, I'd kill them to get back to him.'

‘But she hasn't tried. Not until now. By your rationale, do you think she'd have let us take her so easily if she knew she had a child to live for?'

Eyna took some time to reply.

‘No. Of course you're right. There's no way at all. I'm sorry, darling. I know I'm being irrational, but we needed this one to work out, so much …'

‘I know.' He'd put his arm around her. She was still hot and sweaty from the daysuit and from fending off the attack. He remembered breathing in her smell, earthy and real. ‘We both did. But it's not all over. As far as we can tell, she's still completely fertile and physically able to bear another child. There's nothing to stop us going ahead. And this time we'll make certain it all goes according to plan.'

‘You think we should?'

‘I think we have to.'

Dernan remembered her standing there, washed in the filtered light from the chamber, and wondering what was really going on in her head.

She's so hard to read,
he'd thought.
How can you be so close to someone, and at the same time so far away from them?

‘I think I'll go back out to Woormra.'

‘Tomorrow?'

‘Now.' She headed for the lab. ‘Don't worry. I'll be back before first shift.'

‘Eyna—'

‘Dernan, don't worry. I just want to have another look around.'

She'd smiled, and the door had closed behind her.

Bringing himself back to the present, Dernan Mann told himself that, all things considered, Larinan had done a good job down there. Much better than he could have hoped.

‘Is she trying to open the hatch?' Janil had returned to obs.

‘Of course. How's Larinan.'

‘Dopey. Nauseous. I got his helmet off, but he wouldn't let me help with the rest of the suit. Said he'd manage.'

‘How were his levels?'

‘His band stopped chiming before he was even out of the chamber. He copped a dose, but nowhere near maxing out.'

‘What happened in there?'

Janil shook his head. ‘No idea. Hang on …'

Crossing to the nearest terminal, he pulled up a scrolling display.

‘There. The moment he stepped into the chamber there's a small spike in ambient UV – he obviously didn't notice it – and then there's the two big ones here and here. That's when his band started up.'

‘So we've got a problem in the emitters.'

‘Looks that way. Hard to say for sure, though. It's all back to normal now.'

Sure enough, the display showing the current levels inside the chamber was unwavering.

‘Do you think Larinan somehow caused the flaring?'

‘I don't see how.'

Dernan leaned down and studied the readout closely. ‘Something caused it, that's for sure.'

‘We'll run diagnostics. In the meantime there's nothing more we can do.'

‘Are we going to put him in there again?'

‘Not today. He's had enough for the moment.'

‘That's not what I meant.'

Dernan Mann looked at Janil and could see the smouldering anger behind his son's eyes.

‘He did well in there, Janil, all things considered.'

‘He got one reaction out of her.'

‘That's more than your mother got. You've seen the footage.

‘Actually, I'd call it a hell of a lot less than Mother got.'

‘Perhaps. It's a matter of perspective, I guess. But whichever way you look at it, we have to keep trying. We don't have any choice. If it all goes completely bad, if the sky does fall, then Lari and that girl might well end up being the only hope any of us have.'

‘It won't come to that.'

‘It might.'

‘Then Sky help us all, in that case.'