GeneStorm: City in the Sky (37 page)

“Who’s touching stuff? Nobody touch stuff!” She pointed at Throckmorton. “Was that you?”

The plant hastily moved away from a control panel, trying unsuccessfully to look innocent. But the lavender budgerigar suddenly smelled salty crackers and blundered forward, eager to get his share.

Up in the control cabin, Kenda moved to the controls, made a brief inventory, and flicked open a series of switches. Beau stood right beside him, pendant glowing in his grasp. The aircraft began to give off a gentle hum, and Beau looked at the lights that suddenly sparked all over the controls.

A hologram blinked into life beside him – a hologram that showed a very personable young pureblood human female in a blue and white uniform. The image smiled, and made a cordial bow.

“Good afternoon, honoured Chairman.”

“Oh!” Beau automatically bowed in return. “Good afternoon, young lady.”

From far behind, muffled by bird feathers, Snapper’s voice came drifting through the air.

“Beau! What’s going on up there?”

“Just a hologram!” Beau turned and examined it. “I say – she was quite breathtaking.”

“Thank you, sir.”
The hologram turned, and beside it, a strange diagram appeared – a sketch showing long ridgelines, sea and mountains, and many little glowing dots.
“Have you decided upon your pleasure for the day?”

Kenda turned. He examined the shimmering diagram, actually using his hands to pull and scroll parts of it across. He centred a single blinking light right before Beau.

“You.” Kenda pointed Beau to the blinking light. “What does that say?”

The fox-bird blinked, rather confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Touch it. What does it say?”

Beau tapped at the icon, and a window opened up beside it. A blue and white logo shimmered in the air.

“Ah, it says
‘Mistral’
.”

The female hologram beamed and bowed.

“Thank you, honoured chairman. Now en route to Mistral. Identification golf alpha seven niner has been cleared for landing.”

“Oh. Oh dear!”

Snapper yelled from somewhere underneath a budgie. “
What did you do?”

“Ah.” The fox-bird twiddled his fingers. “I may have just made a wee bit of a faux pas…”

The aircraft thrummed and a sudden surge of power ran through the hull. A blast of exhaust gas scattered bones on the landing field outside. The aircraft lifted up, moving out high over the lake. It banked, then moved steadily off to the north, leaving the ruined city behind. Snapper fought her way forward to the cabin, and stared out of the windows in alarm.

Beau tried to make light of it all with a fluttering little gesture.

“Whoops!”

“Kenda! What the hell?”

The man seemed unconcerned. He cast an eye over the controls.

“The vehicle is in good condition for now. There is no need for you to fear.”

“Fear?” Snapper sat down. “We’re going to Mistral.”

“To Mistral.”

The shark pushed back her helmet. “Where’s the embalming fluid? I need a drink.”

The hologram gave a merry bow, and gestured aft.

“Please alert our staff should you desire anything from the catering bar. Sakē, huanjiu, sherry, whiskey, brandy, cognac, gin, vodka...”

“Yeah, all of those.” Snapper looked out of a window, and stared at the ground – now horribly, horribly far below. Her ears popped and back in the main cabin, Throckmorton suddenly landed on the floor. He thrashed his wings in alarm, then rapidly pumped his odd little internal tubes and chemicals, trying to generate more gas.

The aircraft flew onward.

One by one, the explorers gathered in the control room: Kitt, Throckmorton, Kenda, Beau and Snapper. Off on the horizon, a dot glimmered in the air.

The dot grew and grew. Slowly it took shape, and became quite real.

A vast, flattened disk floating thousands of meters up in the open sky. A great shape with a clear glass roof – a roof that showed greenery, trees and towers underneath.

Mistral. The city in the sky.

Chapter 15

The aircraft thrummed, altering its course and speed. Lights inside the cockpit changed. Snapper was feeling ill – the motion of the aircraft definitely did not agree with her. Even the wonder of the flying city could not quench her anger as she glared at Kenda.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Kenda was scornfully disinterested in Snapper’s anger. He had an eye on the flying city, and was darkly alive with energy.

“
Mistral.
The fox-bird has the key! An admin-level key!” The man gauged the speed of approach. “It can be breached at long, long last.”

The shark watched Kenda carefully.

“You seem to know a mite about the place.”

The man gave a sour wrench of his mouth.

“Sealed – all through the GeneStorm. Floating above it all, sacrosanct. Watching the world below them burn…” The green man looked at the flying city in cold disdain. “They denied sanctuary to all the pure. But they made a mistake. The GeneStorm passed genes that their key codes recognise. The old family dynasties are still alive.”

Kitterpokkie stiffened. “Those ‘pink riders’ the tribesmen saw. What if they weren’t mantises at all? Could they have been old style pure humans, coming down from the city?”

“Why the hell would they do that?” Snapper scowled as she considered options. “Sealed… Could there still be a population in there?”

Trapped. Sealed in their own luxurious prison. Terrified of the gene plague on the world below…

Snapper’s frown deepened. “Raiding the surface for resources?”

“Perhaps.” Kitterpokkie looked to Kenda. “What else do you know of the place?”

“It hoarded supplies designed to last out an apocalypse.” Kenda gave a sour laugh. “A prize indeed…”

“Indeed…” Snapper kept some sudden new thoughts to herself. “Well then. Let’s be careful. No more running on ahead.”

Indeed.

Kitterpokkie carefully made her way forward. The aircraft was clearly designed to have a live pilot, but the computer system seemed adequate for routine work. The machinery appeared to be working smoothly – a few jitters here and there, but nothing too alarming. The mantis noted that the aerodyne was slowing and manoeuvring: clearly it was working to a set program. Although she could perhaps puzzle out the manual controls, a thousand metres above ground was hardly the time and place for wild experimentation. It seemed best to let the programmed journey take its course.

“Well – the autopilot seems efficient. We can choose from a number of preset areas. So we will at least be able to return to the ground…” She examined the hologram map. “Ah! Padbury, I believe. Listed here as a major subway station. Well, we can land quite close to home, it would seem…”

“If we don’t fall out of the air or simply explode.” Snapper had heard many tales of ancient generators being lethally unstable. “How reliable is the power generator on this damned thing?”

The vessel gave a sudden throb. Several lights blinked on the controls, and the engine took on a weird new note. Snapper gripped the back of a control chair.

“What the hell was that?”

Kenda scowled. “Power destabilisation. The power plant is on the road to exploding.”

“Will it last?” Snapper turned to the hologram. “Hey you! How safe is this thing?”

The hologram sadly shook her head.
“I’m sorry. This vehicle is response-locked to officers of the board of the Mistral corporation and members of family trust.”

“Oh for…” Snapper tuned to Beau. “Beau! Tell it to unlock its functions.”

“‘Certainly!” Beau cleared his throat, then spoke grandly to the hologram. “Dear lady! Kindly unlock the functions of this aircraft.”

The hologram flickered and warped
. “Allow access to which operators?”

“To all operators. No clearance required.”

The hologram’s voice warped and briefly seemed to drop an octave or two.

“Security locks removed, honoured chairman. Free access enabled.”

“Great.” Snapper heaved a sigh of relief. “Right – lady! This aircraft’s power plant. Is it safe?”

“Power plant is now one million, three hundred and fourteen thousand, five hundred and twenty five hours overdue for maintenance inspection.”
The hologram shook her head in admonition.
“Would you like to book a maintenance inspection?”

“Err, later.” Snapper waged a finger. “Now – to get this straight – this thing
is
going to keep flying, yes?”

“Catastrophic engine failure will result in approximately fifty six minutes of continued operation.”

Snapper’s ear fins wilted.

“Bugger.”

Kitterpokkie looked at the oncoming city. She took a careful photograph through the aircraft windows. “Well – time enough to reach the city – and to get back to the ground. We should be fine. Never fear, never fear.”

As the aircraft slowly banked, more and more of the sky city shimmered into view. Kitterpokkie pressed her face against the cockpit glass.

“My word! It must be three kilometres wide! How many tens of thousands of tons must that be?” Awed, the mantis gazed at the massive structure that drifted effortlessly in the sunlight. “What power they had…”

Snapper looked over the titanic city. It was beautiful – majestic, isolated and utterly pristine. The glass roof glittered, showing a riot of green plant life growing underneath. A blue and white Mistral logo gleamed on the city’s side.

A small hatchway stood open. As the aircraft came closer, the wall of the city began to tower overhead. The small hatch became a vast door that opened onto a hangar deck of huge proportions – a vast ceiling, and landing bays on every side.

Slowly and precisely, the aircraft nosed inward through the opening. Shadow fell upon the cockpit glass. The aerodyne drifted forward – past a huge second aircraft parked neatly in its landing bay. A small ground vehicle tried to rumble forward, but its tires had degraded, and it scarcely moved more than a metre before it subsided. The aerodyne lurched alarmingly, then settled down. The thrumming ceased, and once again the hologramatic female image shimmered into life.

“Welcome to Mistral – the island in the clouds! Please remember to collect all of your cabin baggage, remembering to check your seat pockets. The baggage robots will bring your cargo and baggage to baggage claim area one.”
The ghostly female gave a salute.
“Thank you, honoured chairman. We trust you have enjoyed your flight.”

The aircraft’s engines juddered horribly to a stop, ending with a final sickly wheeze.

The adventurers gathered in the cockpit, with Onan peering in across their shoulders. Everyone peered out through the windows in silence.

The city’s hangar deck was lit only here and there by overhead lights. But the vast open door opened out onto blank blue clouds. Seen from within the hangar, the doorway had a substantial lip perhaps four metres high – so there was no chance of accidentally blundering out into the void. Snapper peered out through the windows, trying to see the flooring – noting a pile of rusting old machinery a few metres from the aircraft’s nose.

“I really hope that floor isn’t rusted through anywhere.”

Kitterpokkie was looking up at the ceiling overhead. “Surely not? The structure does seem to still be sound.”

“Just saying…” Snapper tapped at Beau’s pendant. “Right – tuck that beneath your armour and don’t lose it!”

“Shall do.” The fox-bird patted the pendant. “Honoured chairman! It has an excellent ring to it.”

“A family dynasty, apparently.” Kitterpokkie headed to the rear of the aircraft. “Be careful of automated machinery outside! We do not want anybody to be clouted by the cleaning and refuelling machines.” She noticed Snapper emptying out the drinks cabinet. “You’re taking the whiskey?”

“Damned right! If we’re going to get blown up by an aircraft, we can at least get a drink out of it.” Snapper had appropriated sweet sakē, a bottle of Talisker, a bottle of cognac, and some sort of bourbon. “Essential medical supplies.”

“And the little tiny umbrellas?”

“Essential debauchery supplies.” Snapper also helped herself to elegant, silver-chased shot glasses, a first aid kit and a boxed set of emergency supplies. The box contained water filters, a hand-cranked flashlight, a radio transmitter that also seemed to be powered by a small crank, flares and some weird folded silver blankets. The shark was well pleased. “Let’s get this stuff in Onan’s pack. And every salty cracker you can find!”

There was brief chaos as the supplies were found and stowed. Beau found himself a very elegant silver case of playing cards, and what seemed to be solid silver dice. Finally, Kenda and Kitterpokkie moved back to the rear ramp, pulled their equipment tight, and found the hatch mechanism. The ramp lowered slowly down, and the cabin filled with a sudden gust of thin, cold air.

Kitt and Kenda moved out into the open. The procession of riding animals and pack beasts followed. Snapper held Throckmorton and Beau back behind the animals, and murmured quietly in their ears.

“Keep an eye on Kenda.”

“Throckmorton shall.”
The plant floated onward, his little faces all alert.
“Many eyes.”

Beau frowned and leaned in to murmur quietly into Snapper’s ear fins.

“Is there a problem?”

“Unsure...” The shark hitched up her carbine and moved forward. “He’s up to something. Watch your back.”

They moved out into the enormous hangar bay, blinking in the sudden, ghostly gloom.

The shark sniff-sniff-sniffed, then stepped forward carefully, gathering Onan and her beetle and keeping them both close. Snapper walked over to inspect the second aircraft that sat gleaming in a nearby bay. The vessel seemed to be intact… She moved in for a closer look, only to leap back as a hologram shimmered into life at her feet.

“Please step back behind the yellow line! This vehicle has been locked, and may only be accessed by members of the Mistral board of directors and members of the family trust.”

The hologram – a stern, tall man in uniform – stood with hands planted on hips. The image shimmered, then repeated itself.

“Please step back behind the yellow line...”

The shark took hold of Onan’s bridle and quietly withdrew.

Their own aircraft was apparently being refuelled. An articulated hose snaked up out of the floor and affixed itself to the hull. Snapper scowled – sensing an undercurrent of electromagnetics in the air. A weird thrumming undercurrent seemed to be travelling upwards through the floor.

Pendleton had wandered along a row of old machines, poking his wicked beak into places here and there. He recoiled backwards as a strange, lozenge-shaped object made out of bright orange polymer floated out from the shadows. The machine whirred along and somehow cleaned the floor, leaving the landing field free of dust behind it. Kitt came to join Pendleton in marvelling at the sight – but Snapper saw the creature making ready to bite the orange mechanism. She growled, and the moth-creature reluctantly subsided.

Lights flickered at one far wall of the hangar. The lights outlined a little lobby framed by old, dead trees and glimmering holograms. Snapper nodded towards the archway now illuminated by bright white lights, and the group moved cautiously forward.

As they reached the lobby, a peal of happy music suddenly blasted forth – almost terrifying Beau clean out of his plumage. Hologram butterflies and parrots whirled and looped alarmingly through the air, forests of ghostly flowers appeared. A chorus of ghostly men and women in weird robes snapped into being, all bowing while more ghostly maidens threw streamers up into the air. Beau calmed down, looked back at the others in apology, and made his way forward. He carefully checked the archway, then leapt through in one great agile flow, landing on the far side with both pistols poised.

A ghostly woman in ornate robes and headdress appeared beside him. The woman gave an elegant bow.

“Mistral welcomes the family of our illustrious founder! Your personal staff have been alerted, and are on their way!”
The woman flickered, then spoke in a far different voice.
“Biohazard level five protocols are now enabled. Proceed immediately forward to decontamination.”

Snapper moved forward to the arch. But as she passed beneath it, alarms suddenly sounded, and lights turned red. A stern voice came from above.

“Citizen! The carrying of weapons aboard Mistral is strictly prohibited. Please place any weapons, explosives or genetically suspect material into the containers provided. These will be kept in a secure area until your return.”

Drawers popped open in a nearby wall. More alarmingly, two sections of wall slid open. Two huge, gleaming robots came forth – animated suits of armour that glittered in the light. They had weapons that swung into place and locked onto Snapper, who froze in place, trying to make an innocent, welcoming grin.

“Help!”

Beau froze in place between the two horribly beweaponed robots, trying his best not to move.