The Light-Field (5 page)

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Authors: Traci Harding

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Light-Field
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‘Sorry girls, gotta motor.' Zeven gulped down the rest of his juice and made for the shower. He was rather glad to be starting work, as the constant temptations of home were beginning to drive him a little nuts!

A large, glossy black government transport arrived to whisk Zeven to work as arranged. He didn't really like being driven around and being taken care of; he needed his
own
wheels and his
own
apartment. He'd really had a gutful of being teased by beautiful women; what he badly wanted was some time to himself, or at the very least some male company for a while.

As he reached this conclusion, Zeven realised his transport was held up at the intersection where the airship service to Heavens-
Gardens was located, and the sight sparked the memory of a future friend.
Ringbalin Malachi.
The future botanist would be studying at Heavens-Gardens University at present.
And here I was thinking I didn't have any friends on Sermetica
. Zeven made a mental note to get out to Heavens-Gardens when he had a spare moment.

In the back of his mind Zeven knew that Aurora DeCadie, Lucian Gervaise's future personal assistant, also hailed from Sermetica. Sweet, smart and not a risk taker, Aurora would be studying diligently for her business and communications degree at present. Zeven had no intention of going to the university, so he did not expect to cross paths with Aurora before AMIE was up and running — five years from now.

 

When Zeven was finally guided into Anselm's office, he found the president in the company of a man he recognised immediately.

‘Rhun?' Zeven was startled to see him. ‘How did you get here?' It seemed odd that the man had aged so much since last he'd seen him. Perhaps it was a disguise.

‘Sorry?' said the fellow in question.

‘This is Agent Zeon.' The president cleared up any confusion.

‘My bad …' Zeven suddenly realised this could not possibly be the man he thought it was.
Wrong universe,
he thought.

‘Zeon is the man the Timekeeper recommended to watch your back,' Anselm advised. ‘He's a strategist, which ought to come in handy. Agent Zeon, this is Starman, my new —'

‘— crash test dummy.' Zeven held out a hand to Zeon, and his handshake felt like a bolt of positive energy. Zeven wasn't the only one who noticed the energy transfer; Zeon also had an inquisitive look on his face.

‘There is a transport waiting outside the office to take you both to the facility.' Anselm got straight down to business. ‘As the test site is some distance from Heavensgate proper, you'll be staying for two weeks and then returning to the city for a week of R&R.'

‘Sounds good.' Starman had got his wish. ‘But when I get back I'm getting my own apartment, and car.'

Anselm was bemused by his decision. ‘If that's what you want?'

‘That's what I want,' Zeven replied surely, noting that Agent Zeon didn't look very impressed. ‘Is there anything you'd like?' he asked Zeon wondering about his new partner's discontent.

‘I'd like last week back,' came the curt reply.

‘Get over it, soldier.' Anselm's reply was equally curt. ‘Don't make me doubt the Timekeeper's faith in you.'

Zeon's jaw tensed a moment, but then he nodded and seemingly accepted his assignment. ‘The Timekeeper is never wrong, is she?' The agent sounded like he was reassuring himself on that count. Anselm nodded his head in agreement, in case there was any doubt.

 

When the brief was completed, Zeven accompanied Agent Zeon to the transport that would fly them out to the facility. Zeon was walking very fast and seemed pissed off about something. Hence Zeven waited until they were seated alone in the back of their cross-desert transporter before saying anything to his new partner. ‘So what did the boss drag you away from to come baby-sit me?'

Zeon was pacified by the way the question was phrased. ‘A beach on Frujia … my first real holiday in ten years!'

‘That sucks!'

‘You bet it does.' Zeon clearly felt uncomfortable having the cause of his angst on his side.

‘We could find someone else if you'd prefer?' Zeven suggested, politely — offering the man an out now, before they fell out over the assignment.

‘Why are you so special?' The agent wanted to know before answering. ‘Who are you, Starman?'

‘A pilot with a death wish.' He shrugged.

The agent leant forward in his seat to query in a whisper: ‘But how do you know
the boss
? We've been working with each other for years and I never got wind of you?'

‘Well, I've known the boss for some time too and you were never mentioned to me either, Zeon,' Zeven reasoned, using neither Taren's code name nor her real one; if indeed Taren even knew what her real name was? ‘Do you have a first name, because I'm not calling you Agent Zeon all the time … I'll feel like I'm under surveillance.'

‘Mythric.'

‘Mythric Zeon?' Zeven consulted his memory. ‘Nope … the name is not ringing any bells for me.'

This man and Zeven had ruled a planet together in another life, another universe, and had been the staunchest allies and friends — why not here too? Zeven, although not particularly spiritually adept, strongly suspected Mythric Zeon was another of his soul group and there was only one way to find out.

‘So what's your real name?' Mythric queried.

‘The president calls me Starman, so that's my real name,' Zeven replied. Mythric appeared put off, until Zeven raised the sleeve of his t-shirt to expose his armband. Mythrie smiled broadly as he raised his sleeve to expose the same armband, and then quickly hid it again.

‘I knew it!' Zeven exclaimed, inspired to meet another member of the Timekeeper's psychic army. ‘The second you shook my hand, I knew.' Actually he'd known the second he had walked in the room and seen Mythric standing there.

‘I felt that too,' Mythric confessed, seeming happy to learn the Juju stones were responsible for the good vibe between them. ‘So you …' he lowered his voice to a whisper, ‘… have a Power.'

‘And you too,' Starman concurred, as he stared Mythric back in challenge. With this realisation their excitement cooled and they both sat back in their seats and were notably more guarded.

Zeven felt Mythric was not so much wary of him, but of anyone who might be listening in — it was a government transport they were seated in after all. So for the rest of the trip, they sat observing each other with smirks on their faces that were impossible to wipe off —
wondering how much the other knew, which Power he had and how skilful he was.

Zeven wondered if Mythric knew they belonged to the same soul group and were bound to support each other in this, and every, life. He couldn't wait for them to get out of this bloody transport and find somewhere they could speak openly, and he felt sure Mythric was thinking the same thing.

 

The test facility was built inside a cavern system, the entrance to which could only be accessed from inside a vast canyon range, which was hundreds of miles from the closest mining colony.

Upon disembarking from their transport, Zeven and Mythric were met by the Head of Research and Development, Mr Reg Hunzo. He'd been instructed by the president to give the new arrivals a guided tour, and allow them to look over the prototypes they were developing at the facility — everything from spacecraft, to submersibles, public transport, reconnaissance and recreational vehicles.

There was one spacecraft in particular that Mr Hunzo was very keen to show the pilot, and as Zeven entered the hangar he recognised the make and model at once. ‘I thought your name was familiar.' He moved in to take a look at the underside of the vehicle's wings.

Mr Hunzo was perplexed by Starman's less than enthusiastic reaction. ‘This is the —'

‘— Hunzo stealth interceptor,' Zeven finished the sentence, remembering that this vehicle had a major fault. ‘You're using an experimental self-powering turbine on this one, right?'

Hunzo was stunned. ‘You've read the brief.'

Starman inclined his head to confirm that that went without saying — it was not the truth, but it might allow for the knowledge he was about to impart. ‘Your new turbine is very powerful, Mr Hunzo, and I fear the lightweight metal of the wings and chassis, combined with an inadequate welding system, means that when this vehicle hits even half its potential speed, it's going to —'

‘— get torn apart.' Mr Hunzo understood what the pilot was driving at, but shook his head to disagree. ‘We've done the math on this, and the design will withstand —'

‘It's not the plane's design that I think you've underestimated,' Starman politely cut in, and then realised that what he was about to claim only a math genius could know. ‘But you might have underestimated the amount of power your turbine will unleash, as it continues to accelerate from the time of ignition.'

‘What?' Mr Hunzo was somewhere between insulted and horrified to be told this by a pilot who looked like he was barely out of school!

‘If am wrong then nobody gets hurt,' Starman granted, although he knew he wasn't wrong. ‘But if I'm right,
I die
… so please humour me, and re-test the output of the turbine at full velocity for half an hour and you'll see that it is too powerful for this fuselage.'

Mr Hunzo was speechless. Zeven assumed they had not tested the turbine for that duration yet, or he would have got an argument.

‘Now
these
are more like it!' Zeven spotted a couple of all-terrain hover-bikes in the same hangar and took the opportunity to change the subject. He hurried over and jumped on one, and Mythric followed. ‘May I?' Zeven asked for Hunzo's permission and their tour guide emerged from his thoughtful daze to nod.

‘You just —'

Before Hunzo could explain the ignition procedure, Zeven had started his bike; the motor was near silent as the bike floated up to hover in the air at about knee height.

Mythric, having watched Zeven start his vehicle, followed suit and proceeded to pursue Zeven around the hangar bay.

As the bike's air jets were churning up so much dust in the hangar, Hunzo opened the hangar door to release the pair of them; Mythric and Zeven did not hesitate to grab the opportunity to go for a joyride.

They sped along a wide tunnel designed to launch aircraft, which was smoothly paved and brightly lit. Sunlight was streaming into the tunnel up ahead and, as they approached the opening into the canyon
proper, it became apparent that the tarmac was ending and there was no ramp down to the canyon floor! Despite this, Starman continued to speed up.

‘Are you fucking
insane
?' yelled Mythric, as he hit the brakes and watched as Starman went shooting off the ledge high above the canyon floor.

Starman cut the power to his vehicle and it dropped like a stone as he remained firmly seated upon it. At the halfway point of his death plummet, Starman restarted the engine and the ignition boost broke his fall, whereupon the bike went shooting off through the canyon for a way, before gliding around to come to a stop. When Zeven spied Mythric still up on the runway, he yelled, ‘Well, come on!'

‘I'm supposed to be saving your life, not getting killed with you,' Mythric shouted back.

‘It's an all-terrain bike,' Zeven reasoned. ‘Just make sure you have a good run up so that you clear the cliff face.' Mythric appeared undecided and Zeven was annoyed — he really wanted to speak with his new partner alone, and in the middle of a deserted desert canyon seemed the perfect place. ‘Don't be so gutless!'

Mythric disappeared from the edge of the runway above, and after some time, when Zeven still found himself alone in the stifling heat of the canyon floor, he felt disappointed.
Taren sent me a dud … there's no way this partnership is going to work.
The pilot had resigned himself to taking a ride on his own, just to get some air flowing past his body, when the sound of Mythric's elated shout drew Zeven's attention backward, in time to witness his new partner hurtling through the air on his vehicle.

‘What was I thinking?' The sight made Zeven smile broadly. ‘Taren is never wrong.'

Mythric hit the ignition and safely came to hover; he seemed surprised to be alive. He recovered quickly and came to a stop alongside Zeven. ‘There is
gutless
, and there is
cautious
— I am the latter,' he advised and accelerated into the canyon maze.

Zeven took off in hot pursuit. ‘Don't kid yourself, old man, you're as crazy as me!' he yelled as he passed Mythric.

‘You'd better hope I am, if you plan on pulling many more stunts like that!'

‘I'm full of them.' Starman grinned.

Despite the heat, the near-death experience and his partner's suicidal tendencies, Mythric could not bring himself to be annoyed — the ride was just too exhilarating.

‘Well, at least your arse won't be sitting around getting fat on a beach,' Starman chided in challenge, and accelerated up a rocky mound. ‘Yeehaw!' He cut the engine, swung the bike up into a vertical forward flip and restarted the air jets to land safely.

When Zeven looked back to get Mythric's reaction to his stunt, the man was shaking his head.

‘Your parents must be nervous wrecks!'

Zeven's good vibe vanished. ‘I wouldn't know.'

They rode through the canyon a little more, until the tall canyon walls narrowed to provide a stretch of ground shielded from the sun. Zeven stopped his bike and hopped off.

‘Hey, sorry about the parent thing —' Mythric attempted an apology but Zeven waved him to silence.

‘Don't mention it,' Starman suggested. ‘
Ever
.'

‘Good-o, I won't.' Mythric remained seated on his bike and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘We could have brought some water.' He was still grinning with childish delight, until Zeven manifested two ice-cold bottles of water and tossed one to him.

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