Tailspin, page 16
Kuri walked slowly and steadily toward the building where the smoke was coming from. It wasn’t burning heavily, but something had set it off. There was nothing in the area at all, but I kept my eyes on the sky. That was what I’d been tasked with, and it was a job I wasn’t letting go, be it in a helicopter or on the ground. There were dangerous things in the skies, he said. That stuck with me.
Smoke filled my nostrils the closer we got to the building. It had an odd smell, though I couldn’t put my finger on why. The metal rather than it being anything organic, maybe?
I stuck to Kuri’s side as he put his wrist to the door, gaining access. “Stand back.”
I did. Nothing happened when the door opened, but it could have. I waited for him to move forward, which he did. Then he called for me. “All clear.”
I let out an audible sigh. I didn’t know what could have been in there, but I was glad there wasn’t anything in there for real.
I stepped through the door and into a large square room with a screen on one wall and a computer desk. To the side was a large, caged area with computer systems and backup generators. It looked like the smoke was coming from there. But why?
He went to the desk and ran through what was probably a whole slew of checks on the system. I just stood by the door, one eye in the room, one eye out of it.
Kuri spoke on his internal comms, and this time I couldn’t hear the other side. It was probably stuff I wouldn’t understand, anyway. He moved to the cage door and opened the lock with his wrist, stepping inside. A moment later, he shouted at me. “Airman.”
I moved inside to see what he was doing.
“This is cooking the internal systems. I’ve stopped the fire for now, but something on the outside is blocking the air vents. I need to clear it.”
It seemed to be a simple task, but my insides were crawling.
“Watch this gauge. When I move the debris, it should drop drastically.”
“Okay, sir,” I said. My voice trembled, though I tried to stop it.
He left the room, and I watched the gauge and could only wait. “Can you still hear me from outside?”
“Yes, sir, tracking your position on my HUD.”
“At the vents now.” He paused, and I could hear shuffling. Then the gauge dipped.
“Clear, sir,” I called back to him.
More shuffling, then his head popped back through the doorway. “Yep, all clear, it seemed to be just debris. Maybe it got sucked in somehow.”
It was the way he lingered on the somehow was troubling.
Once he had reentered, I went back to the door and kept my eyes on the helo and the skies.
“You said there were dangerous creatures in the skies. What are they?” I asked.
He carried on with his work while he talked. “As a helo pilot, you’ll have to learn all about the creatures around Artem. Some aren’t worth mentioning. They’re tiny, and only a large flock of them would damage the blades of a helo. But others, like a skellie, drift in sometimes from the forests to the east. Their lands are often affected by drought, so the presence of water attracts them. There have been a few more sightings than usual; something…something isn’t sitting right, though. Not today.”
I tapped into Aug-World and used a minimum amount of my time to bring up an image of a skellie. They came in various sizes; I enlarged the image of one which had a massive, muscular body covered in shimmering black and silver scales. Six wings stretched out from its back at odd angles, each one as wide as a house and adorned with sharp, deadly claws. Its long, serpentine neck curved gracefully as it looked up into the sky. Its head was crowned with a pair of horns that curved up and back, and its eyes burned with a fierce, malevolent intelligence.
Inside its maw, sharp teeth were set in row upon row, and on its four large legs, claws glinted in the sunlight, ready to tear and end anything that stood in its way.
Yes, it would easily damage anything they hit. What interested me even more, though—and I made a note of it—were their seasons.
Breeding season.
Right now.
I would be able to see them from down here if they were circling in above. There were a couple of nice shots as some circled overhead, their bellies, though silver, would stand out against the blue of the sky.
“Water’s always our biggest resource,” Kuri said. “Especially here because it powers the city.”
I nodded. I’d taken a look at the details, scanning over it yesterday before the helicopters had shown.
“And,” I said, looking around, “this is a nice cool spot run by the exact thing they’re looking for—the water.”
“Cool?”
“The temperature of the building is cool compared to the ground. Makes it a nice place to stop if you’re flying overhead.”
His eyes drifted outside. “That wasn’t just debris.” The next moment, he was on the command channel. “Hide7 to Setti. We have sky contact.”
“Setti receiving. Clear sign?”
“Not confirmed, no, but clear enough, sir.”
“Sending in SAR 12 and 17.”
“ETA?”
“Seventeen minutes.”
I was taking a guess that was why we stopped in the first place and they hadn’t sent in anything bigger. We had already been in the area.
“Sir,” I said as a dark spot up above lingered in my view. I clicked the X1 to zoom in.
He looked my way.
“We have incoming. Now.”
“They were in the vicinity,” he said. “Should have known.”
“They chose this as a nesting site.”
He nodded. “They’re going to be highly dangerous. Much more so than usual.” His face paled. “You’re about to get some valuable on-the-job training!”
I kept myself concentrating on the skies. My head pounded, and I had to look away. “What would have happened if we hadn’t stopped?”
“We’d have lost the perimeter fencing in the area. The building would have burned to the ground.”
“Much bigger operation, then, I bet.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Well, then, give me a plan, sir.”
A soft thud sounded above us, and he looked in its direction. “Get inside.”
18-Shay
Artem City
Molsk
Slums
City cameras tracked Shay’s every movement through the dark streets of Molsk. The cameras watched him, and he watched them. He maintained a steady pace as he walked. Don’t rush and keep your head low. You’re no threat.
This was not the quickest way home, but it was the safest. Up Conwell Street where the sharp blocky skyscrapers turned to more rundown towers of death and then down into Brayers Ally.
The heavy rucksack was digging into Shay’s shoulders, and he hitched it up from behind, supporting the weight of his precious cargo by alternating arms.
The rain had not stopped all day, and he did his best to jump over several large puddles. His boots, already soaked through, just annoyed him, and he didn’t need the extra jolt from the freezing cold water.
Every step he took, he squelched. Tiny squeaky noises echoed around him in the waning darkness.
Floating domed streetlights flickered on as he drew nearer. Power saving was important for the city, which was saving every ounce of energy they could wherever it could. Wouldn’t be long before there were no streetlights to guide him. Then he’d be on his own.
Footsteps echoed up ahead.
Shay stopped walking to listen. Were they coming this way? He hoped not.
As much as he wanted to get his cargo home, he didn’t want to meet anyone this late at night, either.
Anyone who was out this late was trouble. He didn’t need to see them to know it; he felt it.
A quick jump over the next puddle made the rucksack he carried dig into his back again. He juggled it a little and quickened his pace in the opposite direction.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
His heart sped up, and his breathing quickened, as did the footsteps behind him.
“Out the way, kid!”
“Come on, Alan, leave him be,” an exasperated voice whined. “You know I hate being out this late.”
Shay turned at the last moment, expecting a knife in his back. All he saw was a man and woman rushing past him and out into the brighter streets. They continued on their way, never paying him any attention. Shay moved to a nearby shop doorway, ducking himself into it. He let his heart calm before thinking of a different way home. One that was quicker.
Thinking wasn’t working.
Shaking his head yet with hope in his heart he would have enough power, Shay tapped the metallic implant at his temple. His eyes glowed red for one second as his internal nites accessed the system around him and a 3D map popped into view. Better, he thought. Then, hiking his backpack up once more, he made a run for it.
Left up Sidona Street, right down onto Jai’s Square. He knew every twist and turn, but had never ventured down them. Not this late.
Darkness swallowed him, deeper and deeper.
He was almost home.
After the next turn, two hundred yards ahead, he ducked into the alley as quickly as he could. So close.
Two figures loomed ahead: one male, one female.
Shay stopped dead.
Another two figures came up behind him.
Fuck, fuck. I should have stayed on my old path.
“Hey there, kid,” a young female voice said. “Where are you heading this late?”
“Home,” he answered. Shay wasn’t lying.
“Home?” Her voice had a subtle smoothness to it. “You live around here?”
“Attika Street, Natty’s hotel, basement room 717,” he said as they drew in closer.
They were older than he was, with implants and wearing hooded jackets. Implants that worked, as he could see the energy pulsing along the metallic pathways. They were low tier, maybe tier one. Were they trying to see who he was?
Now that he wasn’t running, the cold now made Shay shiver.
He was not afraid. He’d never been afraid.
“Ahh, so you’re one of Natty’s lot?” the woman asked. Obviously in charge, she was the best dressed and groomed out of all of them. Though Shay struggled to make out any defining features other than her very pale gray eyes. Tech eyes at that.
“Yes.” Shay turned. “Ma’am.”
“Miss Tellier,” she said. “Ma’am makes me sound old. Those are my friends, Anada and Ryax.”
“What’s in the bag?” the man, Ryax, asked.
Shay held onto it tightly. “Nothing worth your trouble,” he mumbled.
This is what he had been trying to avoid on all the nights he’d traveled these streets. Now, with cargo, he was stopped. They knew, they had to know what he had.
The second pair were now right behind him, and he cast them a wary glance. “Don’t be foolish,” Anada said. “You run, it will be worse.”
The other man took hold of his bag, almost lifting him off the ground. “Hand it over.”
“No, please, no,” Shay cried.
The two men wrestled it from him, knocking him to the ground.
Shay could do nothing but watch them open the bag, holding it so that the woman could see inside.
Miss Tellier pulled out the precious cargo he’d hidden. “You’re kidding.” She laughed and held out the soggy, brown furry critter he’d stuffed inside earlier. “A walrat?”
Heat rose up Shay’s neck. “He’s broken.”
Miss Tellier laughed. “I can see that. Where on earth did you find it? I haven’t seen one in years around here.”
“Out by Sinnister farm,” Shay replied nervously.
Her face changed. “You’ve been all the way out there? Today?”
Shay lowered his face, hoping she wouldn’t see his embarrassment. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How?”
If he had to tell a few secrets to get his cargo off her, he could do that. He glanced up at her lackeys, who were also snickering. “There’s a small hole in the fence,” he said. “Take a nine-seven battery pack with you and hook it to the third wire. It bypasses their security. That way, if you make contact slipping in, it won’t trip the alarms.”
“Just a nine-seven?” Miss Tellier raised an eyebrow.
Shay nodded and risked holding his hand out for his backpack.
“Anything else in here?” Ryax asked about to go rooting in the other pockets.
“No,” Shay said. “He was all I wanted.”
“You saw other items?”
“Yes,” Shay answered. Sweat dripped down his back, yet he still shivered. It was so cold.
Miss Tellier put the walrat back into his backpack and fastened the lock. “You know you won’t be able to get parts for it around here, right?”
Shay hadn’t thought of that. He’d just seen it while exploring a few nights earlier. With nothing to carry it back in, he’d hidden the critter in a secure location until he could return. But fixing him up? No, he’d no clue about that.
“Where can I get parts?” he dared to ask, taking the bag back from her.
The woman squatted before him. The nano plates attached to her temple flickered. She had no issues in power, or in accessing the Aug-World. “How about we make a deal?” she said. “If you take my friend here, Anada, over to the hole in the fence soon as we can organize it and help her inside, I’ll tell you where you might be able to locate some parts.”
Shay thought about it, looking at the woman she’d called Anada. He held out his hand. “Deal.”
When Miss Tellier shook it, she also took his HUD ID. “Nice to meet you, Shay,” she said. “Now get home before you catch a cold. Anada will contact you and sort out a date as soon as possible.”
Shay didn’t hesitate. He slung the backpack back over his shoulders and ran for it.
Two minutes later, he had his wet palm on the surface of the building he called home. The door clicked open, and as soon as he had entered, he closed it behind him. Leaning on it, Shay panted for all he was worth.
When his breathing calmed, he made his way to the elevator, punched for it and waited for it to take him to the basement.
The underground rooms didn’t have sophisticated locks. As such, you never left anything of value or otherwise in them or it wouldn’t be there when you returned. It was just a place to sleep. Nothing else.
Shay found his room, opened the door, and with a sigh, closed it behind him. That was more than a close call. Those four could have killed him. His walrat was worth something to someone even if he wasn’t.
The information he’d given them was worth more than the both of them. Hopefully, once he’d shown them the way inside the farmers’ grounds, they’d give him the information he needed and leave him alone.
Shay checked the time. He had to be up and working in less than five hours. He rubbed his eyes, shook off the backpack, removed his clothes, and grabbed a towel.
Dry and dressed, he hiked the backpack onto a side table and gently he took out the contents. The walrat. Wet and soggy, it was dirty from being buried in the farmers’ lands.
It was intact, even if it wasn’t working. Four floppy legs and one long scraggly tail, it was so bedraggled that the metallic structure of the critter was easy to see.
Shay ran the tap. He looked at the dog-eared end of soap he had. His last. Yet he picked it up, and then softly rubbed it all over the walrat’s torso and legs. With a good rinse, the earthy and moldy smell vanished, leaving only the smell of the sandalwood soap, and the reddish color of the fur emerged.
Shay repeated the process again till the water ran clear, then turned his attention to the walrat’s face. Underneath the wisps of fur was terrible damage. He’d thought there had been an eye missing, and there was. The open metal socket and wires were easy to see. He didn’t want to get too much water inside the walrat, so he picked up an old gray cloth and used that instead. Shay began stroking down the fur, taking off the dirt even slower than before.
“You’re nothing more than a baby,” he said. “Why would someone discard a baby?”
Shay pulled the towel over and dried off the fur as much as he could, then settled it back down on the desk. He pulled up a chair, methodically going over every inch of the creature and feeling every bump in its compact frame. The metal dipped under his thumb. There it was. Parting the fur and looking deeper, he could see the tiny indent of a flap.
He had no tools to pop the flap open. Would his nail be enough?
Sliding his nail underneath the flap, he pulled and was surprised when it did indeed open. Ecstatic, Shay pulled his backpack closer and, rummaging in the outer pockets, found the battery pack: the nine-seven. With no tools, it took a little more work than he wanted. But he hooked the battery pack in and waited. Would it be enough to bring the walrat’s system back online?
He hoped so.
Nothing happened, though.
Shay’s heart sank.
After all he’d done, all the planning, it was for nothing. All of it.
There was not enough energy in the world to bring it back online.
The walrat was dead.
Shay pushed back on the chair, moved to his bed and sank onto the thin mattress.
He had to be awake in just three hours.
He set his alarm, hoping he hadn’t used his last bit of power and that it would still wake him. Then he lay back. He closed his eyes, and he was asleep.
On his desk, the walrat stayed.
Minutes later, tiny red lights flashed from the battery pack up to the critter’s head. Its lone eye opened, but it did not move. It watched as Shay slept, and it watched for the full three hours.
When Shay’s alarm stirred, and he squirmed in bed, the walrat’s eye closed.
***
Time kept passing, and Shay couldn’t do anything; he couldn’t work hard enough to buy anything else. His quest was failing at every corner.
He trudged through the hotel’s back quarters to where he needed to get his schedule. He was usually on the top floor for duties because of his attention to detail and cleanliness. It was also why he had a room with a bed and desk. The option for a lock was something he was thinking about now that he needed to fix up the walrat. That meant his money would go to tools. He’d need to ask for extra work. As much as he hated cleaning up after the parties, he needed it.
