GeneStorm: City in the Sky (39 page)

A hologram projector had been set into every restaurant table. They were clearly designed to interface with ancient personal computers, and so most of the functions were inaccessible. But Kitterpokkie had found a few menus, lists and graphics that were open and available. The most interesting of these was a map of the city – clearly intended for guests rather than for the city’s staff. Several areas were shown only in vague detail. Kitterpokkie managed to find their restaurant marked over on the starboard side.

“Excellent! So we have some sort of flight operation section at the front of the city. Engineering at the rear… we shan’t interfere with any of that! But of interest to us, are these… sections… here.” The mantis expanded the map. “Security offices , over near a park. I think the park is that strange tent city thing. There’s a blank area in the middle, marked ‘
temporary security storage’
.”

“Ah! Good euphemism for an armoury!”

“Exactly! Also of interest… Maintenance storage down on a lower deck… With a section here marked as ‘hazardous chemicals’. So conceivably that might be acids used for water sterilisation and industrial processes, plus tools, perhaps portable generators. Batteries, armour, drill bits, taps and dies…”

Snapper stroked at her snout in thought.

“Yeah, we pretty much have only one trip back from this place. We can load that aircraft, and that’s about it…”

Kitterpokkie tapped at the table.

“Well there was another craft down there. So if that one flies, it might have about an hour or so of endurance left. We could take a load down on
that
one, return back up here, then load our
old
aircraft, and go back down. That’s two loads… We should be within the power plant time limits.”

“But each new aircraft’s a risk. They’re all clearly on the verge of detonation…” Snapper cocked an eyebrow. “How big a bang are we talking about there, by the way?”

“Ooooh – a fair ‘boom’!” Kitterpokkie combed fingers through her long antennae. “Pretty deadly out to fifty metres, I should imagine, with plenty of nasty molten wreckage flying about….”

“Not something we want to be around for, then.”

“Most definitely not.”

Kitterpokkie had her battery charger hooked into the nearest wall socket. It ‘pinged’ at her, and she made haste to remove the newly charged battery and insert a new one. “So tomorrow we should head down to check that security office and old camp, then the agricultural stores and water plant. I think tomorrow will be our lucky day!” The mantis moved her head on her neck, feeling stiff and tired. “We can even fly pretty much right home to our own door.”

Snapper turned Kitt so that she faced away from her. The shark kneaded at Kitterpokkie’s neck, massaging the kinks away. The mantis instantly turned to jelly in her hands, making an incoherent noise of pleasure.

Snapper gave a great, satisfied sigh.

“My friend, tomorrow is our lucky day!”

The night passed with glacial speed. Nerves were taught, with expectations keeping the explorers awake. They kept watch in pairs, with two of them officially awake, but even tired as they were, there was little sleep to be had for those not on sentry duty. The only creature with an untroubled heart was Pendleton, who slept on his back like an enormous fluffy kitten with extra legs, occasionally sniggering in his sleep. Snapper lounged in her bedroll and watched the creature, uncertain whether he was perhaps the smartest of them all. She took time out to clean her weapons a second time, and to check on her spare underwear as it hung drying over the back of old restaurant chairs.

Every hour on the hour, Kitterpokkie’s battery charger chimed. The mantis jack-knifed out of bed and swapped out the newly charged battery and clicked an empty one into place. Elsewhere, her hefty capacitor pack was plugged into a wall socket. She was decidedly making hay while the sun shined.

Snapper took her usual stint of sentry duty in the early hours of the morning. Kenda had decided to join her on the pre-dawn watch. There was little to say – the man had his uses, but there seemed to be an anger simmering within him that never went away. Snapper shrugged and ignored it, looking instead out across the city beneath the dome.

The great glass ceiling showed a clear vision of the stars. Somewhere out there, in the infinite black, the old human species had reached out to colonise far distant worlds Snapper looked at the city, awed by the power of the place, but finding no love for it in her heart. It was sterile – a statement of wealth and ability. Down on the world below, the GeneStorm had brought a stunning new wave of life into the world, blooming into infinite new shapes. Chaotic and vibrant, it was definitely not a place of artificial grass and plastic trees.

Snapper’s world.

As dawn crossed the mountains, the dome slowly filled with a sombre grey light. Beau awoke, brushed his fangs at the kitchen sink, then groomed his fur and feathers to a stunning shine. He was the only creature Snapper had ever met who could make waking up in the morning seem stylish. Meanwhile, Throckmorton and Kitt began packing away their bed rolls. The entire group were keen for an early start.

Fried bacon fruit, ginger tea and cocoplod milk porridge was all quaffed swiftly down. Pack animals were kitted out and water bottles filled. By the time the sunlight finally slanted through the great glass ceiling, the party were up and moving cautiously back out onto the open concourse.

Broad steps led down in stages towards the artificial lawns below. Leading their beasts carefully down towards the vast parkland below, the group kept well back from the railings, watchfully scanning the world beyond for the slightest hint of trouble.

Once on stable ground again, Snapper immediately swung up into the saddle and the other adventurers followed suit. She silently signalled them to move on, down beneath the cover of the artificial trees.

They moved out over fake plastic lawns, beneath the shadow of the gigantic house trees. Once again, illusory birds and butterflies looped through the branches high above. But the birds were silent, and no breeze stirred through the leaves.

Snapper’s senses prickled. The shark looked carefully about, all too aware that she had only a few shots left in her carbine. Behind her, Beau nervously fingered his pistols. There was something oddly awry – something watchful and unpleasant about the woods and their strange, stiff plastic leaves.

The massive trees nearby were all apparently luxury villas, hotels and apartments. Here and there the lights were on, but everything was quiet, with no inhabitants, no motion of any living thing. The group rode slowly beneath the boughs of one of the tree hotels – over and through a flowing stream of hologramatic water – and quietly passed a dozen weird little open cars all parked neatly in a row.

Throckmorton drifted slightly ahead, looking carefully in several directions all at once. The plant passed a line of fences and ancient garbage bins, then came suddenly to a halt. He circled slowly, and Snapper instantly cocked her carbine.

The plant remained hovering in place, looking down at the ground beyond.

Beau and Snapper rode up, then sat frozen faced, staring at the scene.

A wide area of paved ground had been badly scorched many, many decades ago. There were solid concrete walls here – all of them scored and pitted by plasma blasts at about chest height. The centre of the paved ground was heaped with scorched old bones.

Hundreds of human skulls. These bones had all been people.

Gunned down – then burned?

Kenda rode up and looked the scene over. He stared for a moment, then gazed narrowly off amongst the walls and bushes nearby.

Kitterpokkie’s voice called from over at the base of one of the titanic trees.

“Chaps? Look here.”

The broad entry doors to the giant tree hotel lay smashed and burned. The great, wide lobby beyond had been utterly wrecked – the artificial plants seared and melted. Holograms stuttered here and there, their eerie light flickering on the walls. A voice from the ceiling was caught in a distorted, stuttering loop.

“
Quarantine state five has been enacted. Ac-ac-active systems… Active systems have been deployed….”

There were more bones there in the lobby – many of them packed into doors as if slaughtered while trying to escape. Kitterpokkie turned her budgerigar slowly about, and looked at some of the huge branches of the hotel.

“Quarantine state five. Ac-ac-active systems! Active systems have been deployed.”

The mantis pointed. Her voice was quiet.

“Up there – there’s some sort of walkway. I think I see more bones…”

“Yeah.” Snapper sent Onan backing away from the old slaughter sites. “Let’s get to that security storage zone.”

They moved onward. Kitterpokkie rode forward to confer quietly with Snapper.

“There seems to have been GeneStorm infection here after all.”

“Yeah – something sure went kill crazy.” Snapper’s eyes kept searching nearby nooks and shadows. “I didn’t see any mutations in those skulls.”

“The quarantine enforcers may have decided to wipe out anything that might even
possibly
have become infected.” The mantis turned her head a hundred and eighty degrees to check behind herself. “Keep your bombs handy.”

“I hear you.”

They came out into open ground. A hundred metres beyond there was a sturdy, low building; an armoured bunker surrounded by neat artificial shrubs. A substantial garage stood a few dozen metres behind it, discretely hidden amongst the bushes.

An open field nearby was dotted with green hemispherical tents that had fallen and turned flaccid long ago. There were many many rows of crates beside them. A pair of long, low vehicles – some sort of cargo transports – had been parked beside a speckled green shed. Snapper rode cautiously forward, moving past a stand of artificial tree ferns, then suddenly jerked her head down.

“Shit!”

Snapper signalled Onan. The bird flattened himself in cover with Snapper sliding out of the saddle to lie beside him in one fluid move. The shark held out a hand for finger talk, signalling the others to take cover.

The group dismounted. Kitterpokkie swarmed forward on all sixes, able to move with surprising speed. She crept up into the ferns beside Snapper, and peered at the ground beyond.

A recess held a dozen hefty, armoured robots festooned with weapons – all squatting down with arms folded, as if ready to spring to life. There was a similar group at the far side of the compound. The robots were perfectly still, showing no signs of life. Kitt lifted up a mirror on a stick and stealthily peered at the robots, then withdrew carefully away, towing Snapper and Onan in her wake.

The group collected nearby, swapping silent finger talk. Kitt pointed to the security hut just beyond.

“They can’t see up out of the pit, unless we get too close. If we’re silent, we should be safe.”

Beau blinked.
“Perhaps I could use the key, tell them I’m the chairman, and tell them to deactivate?”

“If they’re looking for mutants, they might shoot you first, and then obey.”

Snapper risked a look at the open field. She could see no more surprises.

“Throckmorton – stay low.”
She signalled everyone to move slowly back and off towards the security building.
“Move out. No noise.”

They moved carefully onwards, keeping a cautious distance away from the robots in their pits – walking as though the ground were broken glass. But the robots seemed dormant. They failed to react when hologram birds flickered overhead, or recorded forest sounds echoed through the air. But a hundred metres of distance from them was a great relief for the minds of one and all.

The security building seemed intact – a squat, armoured building with a hefty set of doors. As they approached, a hologram flickered into life, and a ghostly young man in a neat uniform held up a hand.

“
Greetings, citizens! We regret that the security office is currently unattended. This office is closed.”

Beau reached for his pendant and clutched it. The pendant glowed. “I am the honoured chairman!”

“Authorisation confirmed, honoured chairman. Do you wish to log in as site officer?”

“Yes – yes indeed. Logging in.” Beau struck a pose. “Now then! Please open the door.”

“Registering voice pattern – chairman. Access authorised.”
The door slid open.
“Please note that a second authorisation will be required for any security overrides.”

“Excellent, thank you.” Beau looked back at the others, feeling wonderfully pleased. “I always knew that I was born to greatness!”

Snapper walked up and pointed at a garage that stood off to one side. “Come on, that way, O Great One. Let’s get the critters out of sight!”

“Yes ma’am!”

A wide old garage held two electric bicycles and a great many tools. The pack beasts and riding animals were quietly installed inside. Pendleton and Onan were left in charge. The door was carefully slid down into place and left unlocked. With all hopefully well, the explorers moved back to the armoured bunker, and Beau grandly opened up the door.