GeneStorm: City in the Sky (38 page)

“Kitt! Kitt, my dear – what do we do?”

“It’s alright. Make no swift movements…” Kitterpokkie moved forward very gently, motioning everyone to keep their weapons from pointing at the robots. “It’s a security system. They’re not dangerous.”

Snapper could feel the viciously high levels of power inside the robots. “Kitt – they’re dangerous.”

“Shhh! It’s fine…” Kitt motioned to Beau. “Beau, my friend – come back this way please. Here we go. Slow and steady…”

Beau moved back beneath the arch. The robots never made a twitch. Kitt motioned gently to Snapper.

“Right – Snapper? Give Beau your weapons.”

“Why?”

“Because apparently the mighty family of the illustrious founder are allowed to carry weapons.”

“Oh!” Snapper unbuckled her belts. “Whacko.”

Weapons and ammunition were carefully passed to Beau, who ferried them through and deposited everything in piles in the corridor. One by one, the disarmed visitors passed by the watchful robots. The riding and pack animals were all led carefully through the gate. Once the area had been vacated, the two robots simply walked backwards into their niches in the wall. The wall panels slid back into place, and the hall was silent.

Beau gave a great sigh of relief.

“Well – that’s alright, then!”

They slung their weapons back into place, making certain their few rounds were loaded. Snapper moved forward with Beau, and looked along the corridor up ahead. Striped black and white lines had been somehow pasted to the walls – in some places, the striped band was peeling away.

A voice spoke from the ceiling above.

“Proceed individually into the corridor. Please stand on the red marks, and hold your hands away from your sides. Keep eyes and mouth closed.”

Beau held up a reassuring hand to the others. He walked carefully forward, and saw a pair of red marks upon the floor. He stood carefully upon them – his clawed bird feet were rather larger than a humans’.

Moments later, a series of gleaming silver nozzles appeared in the floor, walls and ceiling. They gave a slight creaking noise – something shuddered… and then two of the nozzles drizzled a few drops of thick, gungy amber fluid onto the floor.

“Thank you, citizen! Please proceed to the staging room.”

“Ah.” Beau walked on a step or two, and inspected the nozzles. “There might be some clogging in the pipes.”

“Or they just ran out.” Snapper waved the others forward, then walked into the corridor with Onan strolling curiously along behind. “Here we go…”

The nozzles were quite definitely defunct: a good thing, too, because the amber fluid smelled like rancid cheese. Snapper moved on, and the others followed: Kenda and his beetle-horse; then Kitterpokkie with the pack animals. Pendleton walked through alone, fluffing out his fur. Throckmorton brought up the rear, carefully covering the area behind himself with his crossbow.

The procession moved through the corridor, and came out into a white room. Several chairs lay on their side, along with a broken robot – this time a slender humanoid clad in white. A door at the far side of the room had been physically torn away, opening onto a lobby filled with elevators. Overhead lights flickered here and there. Once again, a stern voice came from speakers in the ceiling.

“For the safety of residents, Mistral is under total gene contamination lock down. Please sit. Attendants will take blood samples to verify contamination security.”

Snapper frowned.

“What now?”

Kitterpokkie bent and examined the destroyed robot. It apparently had been equipped with hypodermic needles and several arms. “They were quarantining themselves. I think they want to make sure we’re pure human.”

“Yeah, well that plan may have failed…” Snapper examined the door. “Someone sure busted this thing in.”

The mantis worked her claws in thought.

“There is certainly no sign of a welcoming committee.”

Snapper turned and looked back down the long, open corridor that led to the hangar deck. She stroked at the hilt of her sword.

“That’s all open to the world now. If one fly got in here – one insect, one bird or passing bug-mouse, then the virus would have penetrated.”

Kenda looked toward the elevators.

“Pure humans may have survived. If the quarantine was preserved at least until the last four generations. The virus no longer seems to be contagious.”

“Yeah – well, hard to tell.” Snapper carefully moved on. “Keep alert.”

They moved forward into the elevator lobby, with Snapper holding her carbine instantly ready for action. But the room was empty. The floor seemed clean, and a faint sound of very tedious music drifted from the walls. Snapper came forward to the elevator doors, pressed a control, then hastened back and dropped to a firing position as they quietly slid open.

The elevator was filled with bones.

They looked like human bones. Some fragments of burned clothing were strewn about the elevator, along with what might once have been jewellery. The elevator wall showed ancient blast holes and burn marks. There were coloured plastic chips amongst the wreckage – blue chips. Snapper crept forward and examined the melted chips and burn marks on the walls.

“Plasma burns – or maybe laser…” The melted blue chips were evidence of extreme violence. “These bones look pure human. What’s left of the skulls doesn’t show any splicing…”

Kitterpokkie squatted down beside Snapper and looked at the bones.

“Gracile. I would guess females – or children?”

“No weapons. So someone was shooting at non-combatants. Always lovely to know.” Snapper looked at the ruined elevator. “The floor’s pretty shot up. Not sure I’d trust this for a ride…”

Kenda had moved to the end of the hall. He looked up into a broad, luxurious stair well. Beau moved over to accompany the man, and waved the others over.

“The stairs are clear.”

The group moved up the stairs together, weapons scanning carefully for trouble. Holologramatic wild birds and flapping butterflies kept them company. Pendleton snapped at them in irritation from time to time as he climbed powerfully at Beau’s side.

They moved up three flights of stairs, before finally coming out into another broad hall. The explorers stopped dead, looking around themselves in awe.

It seemed as though they had walked out into a cave behind a titanic waterfall. At one side of the cave was the waterfall itself – a great shimmering, wavering sheet of silver fifty metres wide. Soft, filtered light seemed to come from countless glow worms overhead, or shone gently down through skylights. Green plants grew in profusion all about the rock walls. The flooring was a deep green moss.
Over the sound of the waterfall, birdsong drifted in the air.

Snapper walked out into the open, Onan strutting beside her. The bird looked about in amazement, flapping his flightless wings.

Beau walked out with Throckmorton at his side. He moved over to the elevator doors set into the wall. The doors were scorched and holed, the moss there melted into a black-green mass. He ran his claws over the pierced doors and nodded.

“Plasma guns.”

“Here too.”
Throckmorton examined a section of burned, melted green plastic on the wall. He drifted closer, and then prodded at the nearby plants.
“These are not live plants. These are artificial.”

Snapper knelt and rapped at the walls. “Yeah – artificial rocks and moss, too.” She saw the waterfall flowing endlessly, and yet there was no damp - no sensation of mist in the air. “The water’s a hologram.”

They moved carefully toward the waterfall. Paths led straight out through the massive curtain of water. Snapper steeled herself, and leaned her head through. She blinked, and stared out into a vast, wide open space.

The artificial waterfall splashed and rippled behind her. False water ran along a wide pathway in front of her, then apparently gushed off towards someplace far below.

She peered out onto a great, open balcony thirty metres broad. Railings made of natural stone and fine carved wood lined the edge. Beyond the balcony, a vast, green space opened wide.

She walked out into the open air, blinking at the titanic space.

A vast transparent ceiling spread overhead – a ceiling that went on and on, kilometres wide. Below the balcony, the world dropped away for forty metres, plunging into a majestic, sylvan land.

There were huge trees there – trees so vast that entire apartments, houses and villas were inside the trunks and growing from the branches. There were perfect lawns, all still trimmed short, with grottos, spinneys, and gorgeous wooden lodges overlooking streams and springs. Hologramatic birds swooped through the air, while illusory butterflies meandered through the tree tops. Terraces beside the waterfall held cafes, restaurants and steaming, bubbling hot springs – all perfectly laid out. The sun was setting in the outside world: as Snapper watched, treetops began to gleam with countless fairy lights.

The other explorers came out to join her at the rails. The silence in the cavernous open space was chilling. No people moved. No random sounds came. The machinery of the city itself made the barest whisper. It was massive, majestic, and utterly empty. The air itself held a weird, crisp chill.

As Snapper looked out across the dome, a hologram flickered into existence twenty meters along the balcony rail. A stern human man somewhere in his older years, dressed in an immaculate suit. His voice echoed from a dozen identical images that appeared in the terraces below.

“Citizens of Mistral. Quarantine state five has been enacted. Active systems have been deployed. In case of infection outbreak, remain seated and still. Medical verification robots will attend and verify your genetic condition.”

Kitterpokkie frowned.

“What happens if you don’t sit down?”

“I guess the ‘active systems’ start doing their mischief.” Snapper polished her spectacles and looked about the scene. It had been a tiring day of battles, stairs, more stairs and an occasional drenching. “Light’s going. We should hole up for the night.”

“Yes, I’m flagging.” Kitterpokkie felt quite exhausted. Still – she was drawn to gaze out across the city. “I can’t see any population.” The mantis frowned. “No animal or plant life at all, if fact. I believe the greenery is entirely artificial.”

Snapper nodded. “Maybe tomorrow we can find some sort of computer link, and the honoured chairman can see if he can find us anything useful.”

“If they intended themselves to be an ark, they would certainly have carried stores of useful tools, chemicals, medicines, weapons… A library.” Kitterpokkie looked to Snapper in quiet relief. “We’ve found it, my friend. This is it. With this, we can save our home.”

In the weird forest below, a few small shapes began to move. Some of the orange cleaner robots were out on patrol. Throckmorton came drifting over to his friends.

“There is a big grotto in the wall. It has running water.”

“Really? Well, let’s check it out. We can make camp and rest. If I don’t get to wash out some underwear for tomorrow, heads will roll.”

“Throckmorton is in favour of a less stinky shark.”
The plant rowed through the air.
“This way!”

He honked his horn, and the group followed wearily in his wake.

Throckmorton’s ‘grotto’ turned out to be what was once an undoubtedly exclusive restaurant. The premises reached back into the rock wall that ringed the city, with walls that opened out into intricately carved and sculpted stone. There were airy gothic arches, along with statues of maidens, dragons and knights in armour. The high fan-vaulted ceiling shimmered with hologramatic light. Immaculate kitchens were filled with ancient pots skillets and cutlery. Kitterpokkie pottered about and appropriated excellent kitchen knives, a peeler, a grater and a handsome little saucepan. Pendleton shouldered his way into the big room with her and investigated nooks and crannies, hoping for something tasty. Beau searched the bar and found a selection of excellent hard liquors and a great deal of extremely vintage wine.

The electrical hotplates in the kitchen were still functioning. Snapper mulled about, making a royal meal with soup, small bread rolls and a stew made with dried meats, vegetables and aged wine. The group set a table and ate like gentlefolk, with white tablecloth, silver cutlery and crystal wine glasses. They appropriated enough of these luxuries to outfit Toby and Samuel’s place back home, and stowed away another set to use for special occasions on the trail.

There was wine with dinner. One bottle had turned to vinegar, but the rest had matured into rather eye-opening vintages. Snapper and Beau regaled themselves with two hundred year old port. With booted feet on the table and sabre in her lap, Snapper felt every bit the hussar.

The city seemed quiet, with only a few cleaning robots moving across the artificial lawns. Kenda sat near the doorway, rifle across his lap, looking carefully out across the city beyond. Throckmorton had set himself up on a nest of tables nearby, dusting some little painted figurines of dragons, maidens, knights and monsters that he had taken from a bench nearby. They seemed to be part of an interesting board game, and he was industriously collecting all of the figures – while clandestinely keeping at least one pair of eyes on Kenda at all times.