Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [84]
By the time they reached their destination, Thales could make out the gigantic trusses bedecked with barrel-shaped habitation modules. He saw innumerable sheets of broken solar arrays sandwiched between broken-backed service modules, and unit nodes speared through by abandoned robotic arms and bristling antennae.
The airlift stopped along the route and their capsule rotated inside another shaft before continuing downward until it reached a cavernous space illuminated by banks of light arrays. Mira Fedor pointed out the arms of the original space station branching out from the bottom.
The sight of the bones of such an ancient object thrilled Thales more than he would have thought possible. Thousands of years old, at the very least. Stations had been artificial spheres for that long at least—not these gangling elongated things.
‘Beautiful,’ breathed the Baronessa. ‘Like a starfish.’
The Lamin hustled them to another vehicle which transported them into and along one of the arms.
‘Are the airlifts part of the original station?’ asked the Baronessa.
‘Only the lower section,’ the Lamin said. ‘The lift well has grown as Edo has grown.’
The station arm was wide enough to allow several lanes of medium-sized transport in either direction, each one separated by islands filled with racks that the Baronessa told Thales would have housed payloads and experimental equipment. Periodically they passed small central parking nodes that had been converted into kafes. ‘Esques sat at tables eating and drinking, oblivious to the traffic.
Some way along the arm the vehicle veered into a side bay.
‘We must walk from here,’ said the Lamin.
They followed the creature through a series of medium-sized compartments, jostling alongside other pedestrians, until they reached the entry to a grand bulb-shaped chamber.
‘This must have been the recreation module. Each arm had one,’ the Baronessa panted. She was breathing heavily for the light exercise they were engaged in. ‘It is larger than the Principe’s palazzo.’
Thales had no idea of a palazzo’s dimensions but the chamber could easily have accommodated several of the Pre-Eminence buildings.
This was not, however, aesthetically manicured like the boulevards of Scolar. In this chamber, silvery chaos reigned: mesurs and mesurs of foil streamers and balloons hung from the roof. Beneath the decorations, liquid-metal fountains interspersed the hundreds of lots where the bartering of recycled refuse was conducted.
On a circular dais in the middle of the chamber an array of weird and spectacular sculptures teetered.
Thales pointed. ‘What in Scolar are they?’
‘Installation art. Many of Orion’s most famous sculptors sell their products at trade time,’ said the Lamin.
‘Artists? Here?’ Mira Fedor sounded shocked.
‘Commander Farr is an entrepreneurial genius. He has requested that you join him on the dais for refreshments.’
The Lamin proceeded to thread a path for them towards the bizarre towering displays, its head constantly turning to make sure they were close behind.
Soldiers ringed the dais, and a sombre tattooed Balol scanned the three of them before they were permitted to take the escalator to the top of the dais.
‘We have a few moments before we meet the Commander. You are welcome to observe the art but I would ask you to stay together. I cannot protect you if you are separated.’
‘Protect us?’ said Thales.
The Lamin showed a row of barbed teeth. ‘Everyone has enemies, Msr Berniere, most usually without knowing it.’
‘But I know no one here other than the Baronessa and her companions,’ Thales protested.
The Lamin closed his painted lips over his teeth. ‘Indeed.’
Thales’s insides twisted. What did the creature mean? He looked to the Baronessa for reassurance but she had drifted away and was not listening.
‘I have never seen such things,’ she marvelled as he joined her.
Thales regarded the nearest sculpture.