Skye Object 3270a

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2007 by Linda Nagata.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This novel was first published by Linda Nagata as a PDF e-book.

First mobi/epub electronic edition December 2010.

Electronic ISBN 978-0-9831100-4-0
Print ISBN 978-0-9831100-7-1

Mythic Island Press LLC
PO Box 1293
Kula, HI 96790-1293

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This copy of
Skye Object 3270a
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S
kye's skin suit was a royal blue so hot it glowed. It covered every inch of her body, from the toes up, snugging around her like the smooth, thick hide of some water creature. The hood dangled in neat pleats behind her neck. With gloved hands, she reached back and grabbed it, pulling it up and over her short, wispy brown hair, then down across her face. The fabric became clear where it arched over her eyes. Like a living thing squirming into its proper posture, it bent again, to form a stubby muzzle over her nose and mouth. Then it sealed itself at her neckline, the fabric of the hood knitting with the fabric of the suit, so that the seams vanished.

For two seconds there was no fresh air to breath. Then the suit's Dull Intelligence—a machine mind that was fast and functional but not truly self-aware like a human being—spoke to her in its soft, feminine voice, “Activating respiratory function.”

Well, it was always nice to breathe. Skye filled her lungs with oxygen-rich air. Then she turned to Zia Adovna, who was standing next to her, wrapped in a glistening gold skin suit. Zia was three days short of her fifteenth birthday and tall for her age. Skye was only five days past her fourteenth, but she was taller. Her grin was invisible inside her hood, but Zia would know. “I'm scared,” Skye said. Her suit radio picked up her voice and cast it to Zia on a private link.

Zia's voice murmured into her ears. “And I'm your mother.”

They both laughed at the familiar ritual. They'd been sky jumping for almost a year, and it was still a screaming rush every time. A lot simpler than hanging out with guys, and way more exciting.

There were at least two hundred people milling around on the observation platform, though only a few of them had come to jump. Those who were serious were dressed in skin suits. The rest wore street clothes. They lined up at the concession stands, or clustered around the clear bubble that arched over the jump pit, where they could watch set after set of jumpers take off. They blocked Skye's view of the pit, but it didn't matter. She knew that all the jumpers scheduled ahead of them were real people, adults a hundred years old or more. Skye and Zia were adolescents—
ados
in Silken slang, pronounced with twangy long vowels,
ā
·
dōze
, and meaning something like
not old enough to know the difference
.

Skye and Zia were the first ados to jump this morning. All the others had signed up for later slots because they wanted to see if she and Zia really would set a new joint distance record.

Skye smiled to herself. No sweat.

They waited for an elevator to carry them down one level to the pit. When one opened, they stepped aboard. Zia registered them. “Zia Adovna,” she announced, and this time her suit radio carried her voice to both Skye and the Dull Intelligence in the jumper's pit. “And Skye Dropped-in-from-Nowhere—”

“Oh, ha ha.”

“—on a tandem jump of length 4.3 kilometers. Qualifications on file.”

The pit DI responded in a neutral voice: “Zia Adovna and Skye Object 3270a approved for jump, 4.3 kilometers.” The doors started to slide closed.

Then the voice of Commandant Penwo, the jump pit supervisor, cut in over their radio link. The doors froze, still half open. “Four point three K?” Penwo said. “Uh-uh, kids. I don't think so.”

Zia slapped a symbolic hand over Skye's face mask, before she could respond. Then she answered Penwo in a polite, formal voice. “Is there a problem, Commandant? We have DI approval.”

“Sooth, there is a problem. Four point three K is the maximum allowable drop. It's not a kid's jump.”

Skye glared at the elevator doors, willing them to close all the way, but they remained half-open. Commandant Penwo was holding them open.

The ados on the observation deck had begun to notice the delay. Heads turned. Questioning looks were aimed in their direction. This was not shaping up into the triumph Skye had imagined. “Commandant,” she growled. “We've completed the required preliminaries. We've jumped two point eight klicks. This is the next logical step, and it's only adding six seconds to the drop time.”

“Six seconds, one and half kilometers, and a bone-crushing velocity check when you hit the end of your cables. No, Skye. Those regulations were drafted for physically mature ados, not for juveniles—”

“Please check the dates, Commandant,” Zia cut in. “Skye Object is officially fourteen.”

“And besides, we've earned this,” Skye said. “You know we have. We're both fourteen, so it's our decision—”

Skye's argument floundered as a commotion erupted on the observation deck. Her skin suit's external mike picked up the noise. A few ados squealed. More roared with laughter. There was a swirl of motion near the bubble, then a sudden burst of excited chatter. One booming voice rose above it all. “Hey,
Skye
.”

Behind her visor, Zia's face scrunched up as if she'd tasted something revolting. Skye groaned, knowing that Buyu-the-brainless had caught up with her once again. “Please, Commandant,” she pleaded. “We're legal. Close the doors now, before—”

“Hey Skye,” Buyu shouted again, as he shouldered his way out of the crowd. “Did you lose something?”

Buyu was easily the biggest ado boy Skye knew. He was a head taller than her and twice as wide—a walking display of over-developed muscle. On his round face he had recently grown a line of curly hair that exactly traced the outline of his jawbone—a
beard
. Skye hadn't even known what to call it until Zia told her. In Silk, no one wore hair on their faces . . . or no one had, until recently. Now strange little sculpted beards were all the rage among ado boys. Sculpted beards and . . .
nose bells?
Buyu had replaced his nose ring with a little bell that dangled on a clip. Skye could hear its high-pitched tinkling even through the noise of the crowd. She started to giggle . . . until she realized what he held in his hands.

Did you lose something . . . ?

Impaled on his fingers, frantically wriggling to get free, was a mass of gold goo anchoring two whipping tentacles, each half a meter long. Skye's eyes widened in horror as she recognized the mashed body of her robot attendant. “
Ord
,” she whispered. It took only a second for her anger to catch up with her surprise. Buyu had gotten his hands on Ord, and he'd smashed it. Even as she watched, the gooey gold plasm of Ord's biogel body dripped and flowed around Buyu's upturned hands. The tentacles whisked over his head like streamers, groping, groping, but never grasping anything.

“Open the hood,” Skye growled at her suit's Dull Intelligence. Then she stomped out of the elevator.

Zia peeled off her own hood. “Skye!” she shouted. “You can't go now—”

“I'll be right back, okay?”

Then she turned her full anger on Ord's assailant. “Buyu! You vicious brain-dead creep. Put Ord down
now
. What makes you think it's okay to touch my things? Who gave you permission to vandalize my attendant? Did you forget to go for your usual treatment at the monkey house?”

Buyu stopped cold, staring at Skye in helpless surprise. The “monkey house” was the name everybody used for the medical center—maybe because the docs believed their most important work had to do with the mind, especially, helping people to hold onto a civil attitude. In a fragile, crowded city nothing was more important than getting along, so the docs sometimes monkeyed around with people's thoughts and attitudes.

Now Buyu's wide brow wrinkled as his gaze shifted to Ord. He looked as if he'd been presented with an unsolvable puzzle. “Skye, I found your robot like this. It dripped out of a ceiling vent, and hit the floor looking like melted glass. It was about to get stomped. So I picked it up.”

“Stomped!” Skye did not try to hide her indignation. “Ord never gets stomped. Only grabbed on occasion. And vandalized.”

“Skye, it's biogel. Ord's just melted. It's not hurt. Here.” He held out his hands, his fingers pointing down, while the blob that was Ord oozed off them. “It'll fix itself as soon as it calms down.”

Was he right? Skye leaned forward to catch the flowing plasm in her hands. One tentacle touched her arm and wrapped tight around it.

“You know,” Buyu said, “you really should see the monkey house docs about managing your anger.”

She glared up at him. “Like you know.”

Her gloves reproduced the soft, oozy feel of Ord's shapeless flesh. It steamed a little in the cool air, but Buyu was right. Already she could see the biogel forming into Ord's old shape. She bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed now. “It was supposed to be locked in Zia's breather.”

“Guess it found the ventilation system.”

Well, duh. She almost rolled her eyes, but she caught herself. “Well. Thanks for picking it up. I guess.” The goo in her palms was quickly reorganizing itself, flowing into the shape of a little square-shouldered bottle with a big, round cap. The cap was Ord's robot head. She watched as two optical disks surfaced, drifting until they took their place as eyes. The tentacles slid into position where arms should be. Two squat legs sprouted in the cooling tissue, and finally, a mouth formed. “Good Skye,” Ord said, in its soft, whispery voice. “Come home. Come home now. To jump is bad, Skye. Be safe.”

Skye cracked a grin. She couldn't help it. “Don't worry, Ord. You know I always do everything by the rules.”

Ord's tentacle tightened around her arm. Out of habit, she started to boost the little robot up to her shoulder, but she froze when she realized Zia was standing beside her. “You know you can't take it with us,” Zia warned.

“Sooth,” Skye said. “I know.”

Ord wasn't made to function in the airless void outside the city. That's why they'd locked it in Zia's breather in the first place.

Skye frowned at the robot clinging to her hand. Ord had been following Skye around the city of Silk since she was seven years old. The robot had been assigned to her by city authority when she'd disappeared once too often from a foster home. It was supposed to be her babysitter, her tutor, her own personal tattle-tale if she ever violated any of Silk's city rules.

She wasn't a juvy anymore, though. Now she was fourteen, a full ado, and if she wanted, she could visit authority offices and ask someone there to decommission Ord. If she wanted.

She sighed, desperately wishing Ord had an off switch, because its first instinct was to be with her, always, no matter what. Sometimes that was endearing, but sometimes it just got in the way.

“Hurry up, Skye,” Zia said. “Or we're going to lose our slot.”

At this, Ord looked distressed. It shook its little head. “No Skye, no jump,” it pleaded. “Please good Skye? Come home?”

“Oh, Ord—”

“Skye!” Zia scolded. “You're not going to let that little worry-wart—”

“Of course not!”

“Then come on.”

“But—”

What was she supposed to do with Ord? She didn't want it to follow them onto the elevator. If only Commandant Penwo had closed the doors sooner. Then they would have made it into the jump pit, where Ord could not follow.

Her anxious gaze fell on Buyu. She eyed him suspiciously, scowling at the line of his beard, and his nose bell. “You said Ord just fell out of the ceiling vent, right?”

Buyu nodded, and his nose bell jingled. “It looked like warm jelly. I guess it had to melt to squeeze out past the baffles.”

So he hadn't really hurt it. “Well then, would you mind . . . holding on to it one more time?”

Ord was listening. Skye knew that, so before the words were halfway out, she shoved the little robot at Buyu's muscle-bound belly. He raised his hands instinctively, and she jammed Ord into them as quickly as she could. Buyu's fingers closed around the little robot, and immediately it started melting again. Even worse, it still had a tentacle wrapped around Skye's arm. She backed away, prying at the tentacle's adhesive tip. Zia tried to help her. “Would you mind, Buyu?” Skye repeated. “Just until we're on the elevator, okay? You can let it go after that.”

Buyu juggled the warm mass in his hands, a goofy grin on his face. “Sure, Skye. I'll do what I can, but hey, you've got to get it all the way off you first.”

“We're trying!” Zia snapped.

The tentacle had stretched so far now, Skye feared it might break. She stamped a booted foot. “Ord, you listen to me! Let go right
now
.” She jerked her hand back hard, and to her surprise, the tentacle popped free. Skye staggered backward. Zia whooped. Had Ord really obeyed her? No. It was more likely the robot had just reached the point where it couldn't stretch any more.

“Skye, come
on
,” Zia growled, pulling her toward the waiting elevator.

Skye stumbled after her, still off-balance. She glanced back, to see Ord flowing out of Buyu's hands in a long, golden honeydrip that puddled on the floor. “Hey, Buyu,
thanks
!” Then she turned and sprinted after Zia.

But in that glance back, she'd seen Buyu's brown cheeks flush in a rosy, embarrassed warmth. Buyu, embarrassed? That was a first. Skye didn't want to think about the reason. She didn't want to think about that at all.

She didn't stop running until she hit the back of the elevator with a concussion that rattled her teeth. Then she grabbed her hood and pulled it back over her head. This time, Penwo closed the doors.