Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [33]
‘There are things we should all share, if we are to understand where the Entity has gone.’
‘Are you suggesting we disclose the nature of our projects?’ Miranda Seeward spat with indignation.
Balbao steeled himself for another round of their ridiculous bickering, but found himself physically gripping his seat as a muffled explosion sounded station-side, and the whole ship shook with the impact.
The tyros all started out of their seats.
‘Sit down,’ Balbao barked. Moud, what in the—
‘My moud is offline,’ screeched Miranda Seeward.
‘Mine too,’ said Jise.
Moud! Moud!
Another explosion, this one louder and closer.
Balbao’s fingers stumbled over the com-sole, trying to pull up status reports, but the station mayer-domo didn’t respond. He asked for external views of Belle-Monde, but again nothing.
‘Balbao!’ said Ra. ‘Launch this ship immediately. We’re in the direst of predicaments.’
Balbao set the manual override on the EVAC ship’s cameras and rotated them in an arc. Belle-Monde’s near space was dominated by floating debris, bodies among the flotsam and jetsam. One drifted up close to the camera, its appearance so distorted by trauma that Labile Connit gagged.
‘Strap into something,’ barked Balbao. Without his moud, he’d need help to pilot. He set the ship’s controller to automatic launch and tried to recall how to programme trajectory. It had been more than a decade since he’d been in a ship without a moud, and even then it had only been a training run.
A moment of weightlessness before the stabilisers cut in, and they shot at full propulsion away from Belle-Monde.
The quick gravity change sent the tyros moaning.
‘Heavens,’ gasped Miranda. ‘What in Sole’s—’
Her terrified exclamation broke Balbao’s concentration. He jerked his head so he could see the screens running the external views. Breaks in the floating debris gave them a glimpse of an object as big as Belle-Monde, which was shedding flecks of light.
‘What is it?’ whispered Jise. ‘It’s like rain.’
‘Incendiaries.’ Labile Connit pointed uselessly, as if they could follow by line of sight. ‘A Geni-carrier.’
‘The Extros are here,’ said Miranda in a hoarse soprano. ‘We’ll die.’
Balbao was gripped by an emotion he’d never experienced before: a warrior’s focus funnelling a brilliant mind. He turned back to the pilot com-sole with a fierce determination to survive. ‘No, we will not!’
JO-JO RASTEROVICH
Jo-Jo watched every dawn and dusk with new appreciation. Right now it was the dusk: violent reds, browns and bruised purples that bled into each other.
In fact, being trapped inside the Extro drum had made him much more acutely aware of … everything. Despite malnutrition and screwed-up biorhythms, it was good just to be able to feel again. And smell. And see. Hell, it was incredible! He felt like he could sit for long periods of time just bathing in the feedback from his senses.
Randall had other ideas.
‘Get your carcass away from the window. Don’t want the Saqr seeing movement or shadow.’
‘The windows are tinted,’ he argued.
‘Yeah, but we don’t know how their eyes work. Could be they can see straight through it.’
Randall had a point. Jo-Jo didn’t know much about tardigrade micro-organisms, let alone these mutated macro counterparts. ‘What’s up?’
Randall had donned the boots and coat she’d taken from the dead Latino. ‘Time to take a little look-see outside.’
Jo-Jo nodded. ‘You got a plan?’
She shrugged. ‘Can’t see much from here. Wish we had a ’scope of some kind.’
The view out over the plains was clear and vast even in the dying light, but looking back to the mountain it was hard to distinguish the buildings from the boulders.
‘Seeing as we’re at the bottom of the mountain, I say we divide it into sections. Go all the way to the top, each time. Couldn’t take more than a few hours each way.’
‘What if we see trouble when we’re up top?’
‘Take some water with us. Hole up in one of the other buildings until the next night.’ She threw a canister and shoulder strap at his feet. ‘Standard issue for visitors. They’re all over the