Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (6 page)

Yun shrugged, embarrassed.  “Uh
, my calculations…”

“Let me guess,” Roman said.  “You forgot to carry the one.”

“Something like that,” Yun said.

“This is surreal,” Silvestri was saying, still transfixed on the window.  “It’s like–”

“Fire and brimstone,” Yun said vacantly.  He had drawn a circle of wooden beads from the drawer, and now began to work them through his fingers one by one.

“Huh?” Talia said.

“Fire and brimstone,” he said again, louder this time.

Talia’s eyes dropped to his hands.  “What have you got there?”

Yun seemed lost in thought, staring down at the beads with a faraway look in his eyes.

“My mother was the only person I knew who believed in the old gods,” Yun said.  “Most people called her a crackpot, a weirdo.  Shit, I probably said it myself once or twice.  She used to make my sister and I kneel on the floor every night – every goddamn night – and say our stupid prayers with her.  Words that didn’t mean anything to me. 
Hallowed be thy name.  Forgive us our trespasses.
  What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Now they all turned to look at him.  “Yun?” Silvestri said.  “Are you okay?”

“My sister and I, we never believed in it.  We said the words, but we never felt what my mother felt.  We never shared her conviction.”  He wrapped the beads around his fist and looked across at them.  “She always said the end was coming, right until the day she died.  She said the skies would fall, and man would turn on man.  And in those final days, we’d all stand in judgement of the gods.”

Silvestri glanced awkwardly at Talia, then moved across and took Yun by the arm.

“Come on, Yun,” he said.  “Just–”

“Don’t treat me like the crackpot, man,” Yun said sharply, shrugging him away.  “Can’t you see what’s happening out there?”

Silvestri stepped back.  “Believe what you want to believe, Yun.  I’m not about to judge you.”

“Yeah,” Yun said, not convinced. 
“Whatever.”

“We have to keep moving,” Silvestri said.  He gestured for Yun to go ahead of him, then waved at the others.  Roman set off, then turned to look back at Talia.

“You coming?” he said.

“Just a second.  I’ll catch up.”

She waited for Roman to leave, then took the holophone from her pocket and dialled the longwave.  She turned to the window again, staring up into the gloomy heavens, and listened to the static on the other end of the line.  She waited to hear Knile’s voice, but nothing came.

“Knile, I don’t know if you can hear me, but we made it off the roof.  We’re okay.”  There was no response, just more static.  She exhaled despondently and went on.  “We’re moving down through the Plant Rooms.  Hopefully we’ll be in Lux very soon.  I’ll uh… I’ll keep you posted.  Let us know how you’re doing if you get the chance.”

She killed the call and took a moment longer to stare into the sky, wondering if Knile was still alive, if there was even any point in heading to Sunspire at all.

Had Knile’s Skywalk become nothing more than flaming debris falling toward Earth?

Without an answer to that question, she turned and followed after the others.

7

The maintenance hatch had been blown off its hinges, and now there was nothing before them but a jagged hole in the wall.

Lux awaited them on the other side.

Roman paused and looked back into the grimy anteroom into which his companions had assembled.

“Ready?” he said.

Talia never took her eyes from the doorway, through which cool air and the relatively harsh illumination of Lux spilled into the lower extremities of the Plant Rooms.

“As we’ll ever be,” she said.

Zoe stepped forward and moved through the hole, her assault rifle held at the ready as she surveyed the corridor and nearby surrounds.  She did not look back, but a curt motion with her hand indicated to the others that it was clear to proceed.

Roman moved hesitantly.  The last time he had been in Lux had been an unpleasant experience.  He’d been kidnapped and tied to a bed by the maniacal Vincent Rojas, a man who seemed to think Roman harboured some kind of evil spirit within him.  He had barely escaped with his life.  Despite its gleaming contours and polished floors, the place
contained
just as many evils as anywhere else in the Reach, Roman decided.  The only difference was that they were more effectively disguised here.

The one positive of being in Lux, he figured, was that they had put the first leg of their journey behind them.  It had taken several hours to descend through the Plant Rooms, and during that time they had encountered small, ragged clumps of survivors on several occasions.  These groups had been not unlike their own – hesitant and careful, looking out for their own skins rather than for trouble – and they had passed without incident.  Brief words had been exchanged in some cases, sharing of experiences and what they had seen, and those travelling upward had been dismayed to hear what Silvestri had to tell them of the Wire and Habitat One.  Some had continued to march upward in the vain hope that there was no truth in his words; others had slunk off into the gloom to parts unknown.

Thankfully, the militia had not found them again.  Although the sound of gunfire in the
distance had been constant, their group
had managed to avoid serious trouble.  The Plant Rooms were full of darkened corners that could be used for camouflage when necessary.

Now as they stepped wearily into Lux, squinting and shading their eyes from the sudden brightness, they found themselves in a very different environment.  Although it was still far more sumptuous than anywhere else in the Reach, Roman quickly realised that things had changed for the worse here as well.

For a start, there was no procession of Autos – the small vehicles preferred by Luxites for transportation –
skimming across the boulevard.  Instead, these had been smashed and defiled in many different ways.  Some had been rammed up against the walls, while others had been overturned.  Others still lay dormant in the centre of the avenue, their windshields smashed apart.

Strewn across the ground was a melange of garments: a shapely leather boot; a scarf; a torn jacket.

Roman could picture the scene easily enough, how the rabid hordes from below had arrived within Lux, catching these commuters unprepared and forcing them to run for their lives.  How jarring it must have been for these socialites to suddenly find their perfect little world shattered by the upheaval.

“Come on,” Silvestri said.  “We don’t want to loiter here for long.  This place is like a magnet for every lowlife in the Reach who’s looking to make a score.”

They moved along the boulevard under Yun’s direction, the tech flicking madly through floor plans on his holophone as he tried to gather his bearings.  From the distance came the haunting sounds of screams, of gunfire.  Loud banging sounds, the brief whine of a siren.  Roman felt as though they’d stepped into the eye of the storm, that chaos was swirling all around them, and that the six of them would be swept into the path of destruction at any second.

A few moments later, his fears were realised.

They came from an adjoining corridor –
a group of ten or more hastening across the polished floor with an assortment of weapons in their possession.  Without any chance of finding cover, Silvestri motioned for the others to stop as he turne
d to face the newcomers head on.

A woman with an ugly scar down the centre of her shaved head stepped out from the pack and lifted her chin belligerently as she surveyed Silvestri and the others.

“Who the fuck are you?” she said.

“Nobody,” Silvestri said curtly, his voice like flint.  “Move on.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at his tone, and the man behind her whispered something in her ear.  Zoe stepped alongside Silvestri and lifted the butt of her assault rifle onto her hip suggestively, hoisting the muzzle into the air for them to see.

“You want some?” she said with mock sweetness.

The woman stared at the weapon for a moment, then ran her eyes over the group.  Shabby and dishevelled as Roman and the others were, the woman evidently decided she could find a more lucrative target elsewhere, and she barked a command to those behind her.  The group shuffled off without incident.

“Why do I get the impression you actually wanted them to come at us?” Duran said to Zoe.

Zoe smirked.  “No comment.”

The deeper into Lux they went, the more mayhem and destruction they found.  Apartments had been ransacked, and now frightened Luxites in torn finery were being herded by gangs out into the street and then searched for valuables.  Roman felt sorry for them in a way.  Although they’d lived in luxury at the expense of those further down the Reach for many years, these people did not deserve the treatment to which they were being subjected.  Right at this moment, however, there wasn’t much he could do about it.  He and the others were simply trying to keep a low profile as they made their way downward.  For many years, the Reach and Link had been places in which every man had to look out for himself, and these formerly privileged Luxites were only
just learning that their home now operated under the same rules.

Further on, they came across a commercial district that was clogged full of people.  The vibe here seemed different somehow – although there were scuffles and pockets of unrest, there was also a sense of cooperation between many of those who had gathered.  Items were being
distributed amongst the crowd, and some of the wounded had been laid out on makeshift pallets as they were attended to by a pair of women in grey shirts.

“What the hell is this?” Duran said.

“I have no idea,” Silvestri said.  He pointed to a parked transport nearby, from which more parcels were being unloaded.  “Look.”  Men equipped with assault rifles stood guard nearby, but unlike most others Roman had seen that morning, they showed no sign of aggression.  In fact, they seemed more like a security detail than anything, only intent on keeping watch over the transport.

An elderly man appeared through the crowd, a cluster of packages clutched under one arm.  He bustled forward and thrust one into Roman’s hands, then handed him a container of bottled water as well.

“Here, take it,” he said as Roman stared down at the goods, perplexed.

“What’s going on here?” Silvestri said.  “Who are you?”

“We’re redistributing the wealth,” the man said enthusiastically, handing a package to Silvestri.  “There’s enough here in Lux to go around.  For everyone.”

“Wait a minute, where did this come from?” Talia said, lifting aside the wrapping on Silvestri’s parcel.

“They have this stuff stockpiled,” the man said.  “We don’t have to kill each other to get it.”  He gave them a pointed look.  “There’s enough to go around,” he said again.

Roman opened the parcel.  Inside was a cured sausage, a hunk of fresh bread.  An apple, a pair of rose-skinned desiree potatoes.

The old man began to move away, but Silvestri reached out to stop him.

“Why are you doing this?” he said.

The old man seemed to think about that.  “Because we can.”

“Hey, we’re trying to get out of here,” Roman said suddenly.  “Can you help us?”

The old man shook his head.  “That, I can’t do.”

“Do you know if any of the elevators are working?”

“No, but down on Level Ninety-Six, over on the eastern side, some friends of ours were working on the elevators, trying to hook up pulley systems to help people down to the lower levels.”  He shrugged.  “That was last night.  It might have all gone to hell by now, but maybe it’s worth a shot.  You’ll need to work your way down through the Gre
enhouses before you can reach them.”

“Many thanks,” Silvestri said, and then the man continued on his way, handing out parcels as he went.

Talia plucked the apple from Roman’s grasp and took a bite.  She chewed twice, then moaned blissfully.

“Holy shit, that’s good,” she said.

There was a shout behind them, and a scuffle broke out.  Voices became raised, and a woman in a turquoise dress was knocked to the floor.