The Bloodlight Chronicles: Reconciliation (11 page)

The sun had already set under twin moons, but the city remained torrid and grimy from the day's heat and dust. The air seemed thick and difficult to breathe, even in the restaurant where air conditioning equipment roared continually in a vain attempt to create a comfort zone. The young waitress, Jasmine, promised a midnight rain that washed the streets daily, but Zakariah could not stay awake long enough to see it. His food had been drugged, and Jasmine cradled his head gently as he fell forward onto the table.

N
iko threw up the garage door with the aplomb of a magician. She was wearing her biker leathers, so Rix knew they were going for a ride. She spread her arms with a flourish to point at two motocross racers with grimy rims and knobby tires. Beside Niko's familiar red bike stood a blue twin, looking like an animal ready to pounce, the front fender high up above long shock-absorbing forks. A jumping bike. A dirt screamer.

“It's not new, exactly, but it's not stolen. It's all yours.”

“Cool.” Rix stepped forward to inspect his new bike. It reminded him of a feline in motion, a blue jaguar. He trapped a brimming smile with pursed lips. Don't gush. Don't show any emotional weakness. “You could have shined it up a bit.”

“It's not your birthday, is it? Just get on.” Niko picked up his helmet from a shelf along the wall and tossed it to him. “Manual shift, one down, five up, just like mine.”

“No electric start?”

Niko grinned. “Don't be a wuss.”

Rix pulled on his helmet and strapped it under his chin. He unscrewed the gas cap and found a reflection close to the top. “Where to?”

“Tower Hill. It's a dirt trail out in the boonies. Just follow me.”

“Am I street legal on this thing?”

“No. I didn't bother with the fine details. We'll head off-road if we spot a patrol.”

Rix kicked his starter down, and the bike barked to life on the first try. He revved it up with just a touch of the throttle and felt a pulse of hot power between his legs. He tipped it side to side to check the balance and pressed down on the handlebars to gauge the resistance on the front shocks. He nodded his eager satisfaction to Niko with what he hoped might pass for boyish charm.

She strapped on her helmet and kicked her bike to life. She revved it twice and popped her clutch on the third count. Her bike lurched like a tiger out of the gate and made it halfway down the driveway before the front wheel touched ground again. She spun a sliding turn out into the road and booted it up the boulevard.

Rix eased his bike into gear and followed her with care. The last thing he needed was to wipe out at the end of the driveway like an idiot. If he was going to score with this chick, he had at least to look respectable on two wheels. No point in taking any chances until he got the feel of the new machine.

They headed out of the suburbs and past the perpetual construction zone of urban sprawl, out into the rural badlands of abandoned farms and tilted realtor signs. Soon they were off-road on a rutted dirt pathway heading north. Niko was showing no mercy and eating up the ground ahead, climbing rocks and jumping over decaying tree trunks. Rix could feel his bones beginning to ache with the pounding vibration of the landscape, but he dared not slacken his pace. His hair was plastered with sweat in the back of his helmet.

He caught up with her finally. She stood beside her dormant bike and tipped up a squeeze-bottle of nutrient water. Her helmet perched backward on the seat like a shiny black beetle. He idled up beside her and shut off the ignition.

“Hey, slacker,” she said and tossed her hair with a quick shake.

Rix flipped up his visor. “Got tired of breathing your exhaust.”

“Sure.”

“We parking?”

“Yeah, let's grab a snack.” She pulled an energy bar out of a side pocket and held it up in invitation.

Rix pulled off his helmet and took a deep breath through his nose. The country air smelled pungent. “It stinks.”

“There's a swamp on the other side of this ridge. Come and take a look.” Niko headed up a rocky slope.

Most of the trees were dead or dying, their denuded limbs grotesque against the bright blue sky. Rix suspected some new bug, some imported caterpillar with no natural predators. So much for global Earth. A few coniferous saplings were pushing up into the vacuum, sucking the sunshine like newborn babes. In a few more years the rocks would be green again, another cycle of life underway.

The air was hot and dry, and the lichen crunchy underfoot, like walking on stale toast. The sound of his boot heels seemed amplified by the stillness, a harsh grinding noise. A wafting breeze grew more fetid as they approached the summit.

“It smells horrid,” Rix said as he caught up.

Niko laughed in response. “You are such a city slicker.”

A narrow lake stretched out between two ribs of bedrock, with dead tree stumps sticking up above the surface. Rix felt his face wrinkle with displeasure. “What is that smell?”

“It's just bog. This is a beaver swamp. It's a secret lake. The beavers build dams to hold back the creek water. It's hardwired into their brains when they hear a trickling noise. Eventually the water backs up and makes a lake.”

“It kills the trees.”

“They eat the trees. That's what beavers do. Their front teeth keep growing, so they have to keep chewing to wear them down. Look, there's one over there.” Niko pointed with delight in her eyes at a dark blob moving in the water. “Sit down,” she directed. “If we're quiet, he might come in close.”

They made themselves comfortable on the rock and peeled foil wrappers off nutrient bars. Niko offered a water bottle and Rix took a deep slug to wash the dust out of his throat. “So this is it?”

“Just a pit stop. You don't like the view?”

Rix shrugged. “I dunno. I thought maybe we were goin' on a mission. You know, smugglin' stuff.”

“Not today. This is our down time. Just kick back, man. You're too tense. Want to smoke a joint?”

“No, I'm good.”

“Phillip used to bring me here when I was a kid. I got attached to the place.”

“My grandfather?”

“The same.”

“I never met him.”

“Maybe some day. He's a busy guy.”

Rix scanned the horizon with more care. The exposed granite looked grey and barren but for a few tufts of brown grass and weeds. The dead deciduous trees stood like a regiment of scarecrows along the horizon. Only the lush green coniferous trees gave evidence of life, verdant spruce and long-needled pines, the next generation.

“Why here?”

“Why not?”

“Was he trying to teach you something?”

“I don't know. I guess so.”

“Well, what do you like about this place?”

Niko turned her head to face him. She swallowed the last bite of her energy bar and folded the wrapper into a pocket in her leathers. “I feel connected to something out here. Something primeval. I feel part of some grand design, that I'm not just the product of a test tube, you know?”

“Our friend's coming in pretty close,” Rix whispered, looking past her. The beaver seemed to be dragging something. A stick poked up out of the water at an odd angle and seemed to move along with him. “What's he carrying?”

“He's got a tree branch in his mouth. He's taking food home to the nest.”

“You can see that?”

Niko tapped beside her right eye. “Digital zoom. It's new.”

The beaver's bulky frame moved fast through the water, his head barely above the surface. He swam past them, close to shore, and continued on down the lake.

“People think they work all the time. You know . . .” Niko held her fingers up to indicate quotation marks. “. . . like busy beavers. But I've seen them play. I've seen them lock their snouts together and wrestle. Could be some sort of mating ritual.”

“Have you ever seen them have sex? Do they do it like dogs, or what?”

A look of condescension flashed across Niko's face and was quickly disguised with a smile. “I'm sure I don't know. Is that all guys think about?”

Rix winced at the barb. If she knew how much he had secretly longed for her, she would probably slap his face and leave him in the dust. He could never confess his love for Niko. He could never reveal his midnight fantasies. “Yeah, whatever,” he said.

Niko shrugged off any offense. “They look pretty comical up on dry land, waddling their fat asses around, or scratching themselves with their huge hind feet. Their front paws are small, with long, curving talons like fingers. They can rotate a branch while they chew the bark off. I think they're fascinating.”

“Well, where are they? It must take an army to dam up this much water.”

Niko glanced up, checking the position of the sun. “It's too early. They come out at dusk. But we've got to get a move on to make Tower Hill today.”

Rix jumped up. “Bonus,” he said, eager to get away before he said something really stupid. He could hardly keep himself from touching her when they sat in such proximity.

Niko seemed to have lost some of her energy as she rose. Her cheeky charisma had worn thin to betray a pensive frown. She dragged her shoulders back and stretched her arms.

“Hey, I totally grok the nature thing,” Rix said. “Just so you know. Thanks for sharing this special place with me.”

Niko's lips curled to one side as she quickly regained her natural insouciance with a tilt of her eyebrows. “Now don't get all geeky on me.” She swung her helmet up and started back toward her bike.

Rix followed dutifully, watching her slim body in motion. Nice butt.

The blat of their bikes broke the tranquility like a bad dream. Their fumes fouled the air. They sped off down a narrow cross-country trail into a heavily forested area where tiny blue caricatures of a winter skier marked the direction. In the aftermath of momentary serenity, enclosed now in a canopy of leaves, the noise seemed to Rix like a hell of a racket. No wonder the wild animals waited until dusk to come out and play.

Tower Hill was a precipice. The path turned up on an exponential curve that seemed to approach infinity. The incline appeared to curl over at the summit, an impossible angle. They sat on their bikes at the base of the behemoth and looked up.

Rix took off his helmet. “No way,” he yelled. “It's an overhang.”

Niko flipped up her visor. “It's not an overhang. It's just an optical illusion.”

“No skier ever went up there.”

“We're not on skis.”

“Have you ever seen anyone up there?”

“Not an actual person, but I've seen fresh motorcycle tracks, cigarette butts, condoms.”

Rix squinted narrowly at her and pressed his lips. Was this some sort of macho test? Some weird mating ritual of an advanced species? He turned back to his bike and pulled on his helmet. He looked up Tower Hill. If he waited any longer, she would go first to show him off. Then she'd laugh at him from the top as he made his foolish efforts. No way. Far better to crash and burn early and be lavished with her sympathy. He kicked into gear and lurched ahead with a quick wheelie. He spun a turn in front of her and kicked up a spew of dirt and dust. She flipped down her visor.

Rix doubled back down the path to set up for his climb. He needed a good straight acceleration lane if he had any hope in heaven of getting to the top. The path was a bare crevice up the side of the mountain, with mature trees on either side. Any deviation would be painful.

He felt a strange erotic urge, a rush of testosterone in his blood. He could imagine the pinnacle of success. He could envision it in his mind's eye. The air would be clear up there, and pure, and a fresh breeze would tousle his hair.

He gunned it.

Metal screamed under him, an extension of his own mortal body. He gathered speed like a rocket. He caught a bit of air on a small bump in the path, but he held his trajectory firm and hit the base of the mountain right on target. The fight of gravity against him was like an extra g-force as he turned upward. He drove up over the handlebars, straining for balance, throwing the bike where he wanted it, but his back tire spun briefly on a rock and he knew he was doomed.

Momentum took him higher, but he had lost the critical edge of acceleration. His front tire was above his head and barely touching terra firma.

The world cartwheeled, and for a vulnerable moment he lost all reference to the skyline.

From that point on he could only hang on to the bike and hope it didn't land on top of him. The engine whined frictionless and went silent as his hand slipped off the dead-man throttle.

He landed on his visor, and grit pushed up into his mouth as he slid on his helmet. The bike crashed down beside him and slid on leaves and debris until the handlebars caught on a rock.

He lay immobile in the sudden silence, testing his bones one by one. Everything seemed intact, so he sat up and looked back down the hill.

Niko was already off her bike and climbing.

Rix smiled.

The Soul Savers complex stood on the highest hill in New Jerusalem, glistening like a silver jewel on the northern plateau. The grey quartz bricks in its construction had been imported from an airless asteroid, a regularly baked and frozen geological treasure-house that orbited on a long elliptic around Cromeus Signa. The building dominated the landscape like a crystal cathedral, a place of pride and worship and mystery revealed. Its regal spire towered grandiose and majestic like a lighthouse above the square cinder-block architecture of the city.

Over the glass entrance doors, supported by heavy metal brackets, two upright palms protected a white dove in flight. Helena stared up at the sculpture for a few moments, wondering if the dove was being released and flying away, or in the process of being corralled and coddled. She couldn't decide.

A young man at the reception desk kept his eyes downcast and murmured barely audible responses to Helena's questions. He found her scheduled appointment and opened the appropriate door with a finger touch, then swivelled his chair back to his computer terminal in dismissal. Helena dramatized her thanks to the point of parody, having grown weary of this quiet and chronically reticent culture, safe in their serfdom to an invisible master. Where was the natural ambition of the human species, the driving force of progress? She had expected a new breed of pioneers on the frontier of space and had found contented automatons instead. Was this the future?