Sons of the Crystal Mind (Diamond Roads Book 1) (15 page)

20

I look out of the ship’s window as we touch down at the edge of a square bordered by three giant buildings on the inner curve of MidZone. One building is a tower of green tile facing another whose featureless white facade is partially obscured by a sheet of milky liquid. The liquid pours unendingly from the ceiling four hundred metres above us to hit the floor nearby with an uncanny lack of spray. The third building is a sensuous cylinder that rises to a blunt point. Every imaginable colour pulses in it and there are no dark areas; the colours bloom alongside each other in a slow riot of gorgeous light.

The cul-de-sac opens onto the rest of the chamber, which is filled by a wooded park. Light blue trees are sculpted into loose knots above dark blue grass. A pink lake glows softly in the centre.

We sit and watch the colours change in the cylinder as the white liquid falls in silent majesty. People cross the square from one of the three buildings to another and at one point a man with a dekpak lands, which gives me a little start of sadness.

“There,” Ursula says.

Ruben Toro walks into the square from between the green tiled building and the coloured cylinder. Although Ruben wears chunky dark clothes that obviously contain armour he still manages to look scared and needy, while his surgically rendered Ursula-beauty makes me even more uncomfortable here than it did in Centria.

“We should take him up in the ship,” I say.

“I can’t see Security yet.”

“Stick your head out for a second then.”

Ursula opens the ship’s hatch and stands there.

“Come on,” I hear her mutter.

“What?”

“I don’t know. He’s stopped.”

“Has he seen you?”

“Yes!”

A strange pulsing, metallic hum has grown subtly in volume. Ruben starts to back away, staring in fear at something above us. I look up and see the dark green warship I glimpsed in Gereleye. This close I can see how huge the craft is, much bigger than the ones Keris had in Centria. Its name, visible on the lower hull, is Wrath Umbilica.

It must have been waiting for us to land.

A flash jerks our ship from under me. For a moment there is silence and a peculiar sense of suspension as if time has become physically tangible. The ship’s inner wall recedes with alarming, inexorable speed until my back hits Ursula’s seat and the air is thumped out of my lungs.

The base of our ship is now its side and through the window strip I see Ursula scramble to her feet. Ruben stands as if frozen and then begins to run towards Ursula. The silent white fluid drops obliviously behind them both.

The view changes again and I feel a sickness in my ears. The brief screech of another shot cuts through it, then I’m in freefall before slamming down. All air leaves my body again as the ship scrapes across the square and judders to a halt. I feel heat close in and turn to see a wall of energy buzz towards me as our attackers burn the ship millimetre by millimetre.

Suddenly it melts as Ursula deposits the remains to prevent our precious kilos from evaporating and I fall beside the last fragments as they’re absorbed into the floor. The awful buzzing heat disappears; I roll over to see Wrath Umbilica hanging above us and glimpse Ursula run toward me. I want to tell her to get away but haven’t got enough breath to speak or move.

Ruben backs off and then stops. Something grows out of the floor in front of him. From this angle and distance it’s hard to make out but when Ruben grabs the handle and swings the thing around I see it’s a cannon, so large that the barrel rests on a stand embedded in the floor. At any other time the weapon might look impressive but not against that warship.

I mentally urge Ruben to run but instead he fires a volley of shots over our heads. A blinding white flare from Wrath Umbilica removes Ruben’s arm and blood sprays over a luminous yellow pulse in the cylindrical building. Ruben spins and falls to his knees, sagging towards the floor until he puts out his remaining arm to stop himself. He looks at Ursula and then uses the cannon controls to pull his bleeding body up. He actually gets a shot off before another blast from the green warship vaporises him and the cannon completely.

The seconds are long and packed with incident. It seems to take an age to register grief for Ruben, whose love for my sister drove him to try and help her even with his arm shot away. It takes even longer for Ursula to complete her facial expression: rage I think and also terror.

The local security systems finally open fire on the warship, which shoots back. Gunfire is a grid of crackling energy as diamond shards drop slowly towards us.

I reach for Ursula, remember the n-gun and select level 3. There is a flash and Ursula falls in front of me. Something hits-

21

I feel my eyelids move as they open and close but I can’t see. Everything is white. A slap to the side of my head shocks a hoarse, pathetic shriek out of me. I try to move my arms and legs but can’t.

“Wake up.”

It’s a woman’s voice close by, charged with the kind of rage that smoothes out all inflection.

“Who are you?” I say, shaky with fear.

“Scan me why don’t you, you stuck up little bitch?”

“I can’t,” I say, “I can’t see.”

There's a charged pause as blindness enhances my other senses, especially touch. I feel the woman nearby, coiled and ready. When the second blow thuds into the other side of my head it should be a relief but she knows how to hit. Echoes of it lock my trembling neck as I cry out and stinging tears crawl down my face.

“Stop it, stop, please.”

I try and shift my whole body to get out of the way of more attacks but I can only move each limb slightly. The back of my head bumps against a hard surface, while aches in my knees and bottom let me know I’m held on a seat. I screw my eyes shut and then open them. After I do this a few times I can make out indistinct shapes.

“Charity!” Ursula’s voice sounds slightly further away than the woman's.

The shapes resolve into people, standing still. Some look at me and some at Ursula, who sits facing me about three metres away secured to an upright pole. There is a red hand mark on her wide-eyed face but I can’t see any other injuries. Thick diamond bands restrain her arms, legs and neck.

I'm held in the same way. My bare feet are pressed against the floor of a featureless diamond box about ten metres square. People line the walls four deep, watching us silently and without expression.

The woman stands looking at Ursula with her back to me. She has Ursula's height and the physique I would possess if I spent six hours a day working out instead of two. Thick, almost black hair tumbles down her back and whips out as she turns to glare at me.

Her face is heavy-featured and almost brutally sensuous. The delicate tone of her very pale skin is offset by a sense that she doesn’t bruise easily, while the furious, unblinking stare of her dark eyes seems to reach the back of my head. She uses her whole body in her movements as if she is powered by so much fierce energy she has to constantly try and use it up but never can. She grips a fuze with sufficient force to make the whiteness of her knuckles visible from here.

Her name is Ashel 5.

My gaze moves from the fuze to the ridged musculature of the Ashel 5’s exposed midriff. She hasn’t got a navel. I look at the heavily armed crowd that surrounds us. Not one of their proudly exposed bellies is marked by a navel either.

Ashel 5 sees the realisation in my face and a small contemptuous smile flickers across her full mouth.

“Get it now do you?” Ashel 5 says.

“Yes,” I say, hearing the resignation in my voice.

“88 Rabian was a beautiful man,” Ashel 5 says.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Please understand…”

“He was my husband.”

Shame presses down so hard I'm actually glad the restraints are there to support me. I can't look at Ashel 5 but feel her rage like radiation. It echoes my own anger at the Sons of the Crystal Mind although that's a weaker force, like the rifle fire of Dad's MidZone attackers as they dissolved in acid; a hopeless gesture, not even impressive.

“You must know we didn’t kill him,” I say. “We never wanted that.”

“Really?” Ashel 5 says.

I make myself look up at her and see despair in the contempt. Did I want her husband dead? I try to focus on what was behind that decision in New Runcton. Bizarrely, Ashel 5's merciless presence helps; she will sense if I'm not honest.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. “You’re the first Blanks I’ve ever met. You’ve always just been there in the background.”

“We’re hardly a mystery Charity. I think if the Sons of the Crystal Mind hadn’t forced your prejudice out someone else would have.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” I say. “I never have.”

Unexpectedly I relax. I’m telling the truth.

“I don’t believe you,” Ashel 5 says. “To me it looked like you wanted to teach us a lesson for spoiling your sister’s party.”

“No,” I say. “Never.”

“I don’t care about the stupid party either,” Ursula says.

I can tell from Ashel 5’s expression she has stopped listening.

“My husband was a peaceful man,” she says and her voice wavers with grief. “He didn’t want bloodshed. Despite everything that happened in his life he was determined no one should die on our account; that we should be a source of hope, not loathing.”

She looks down thoughtfully and I feel a flicker of hope.

“I am not my husband,” Ashel 5 says.

The venom rises in her voice as she looks up again and her eyes brim with hate. I go in-Aer to buy shielding for me and Ursula but it doesn’t work. Ashel 5 owns this building on closed protocol so I can’t gif anything out of it.

The n-gun is still set to level 3. I point my gun finger at the armrest but can’t get the angle right; if I fire there’s a good chance I’ll blow my own legs off. Level 2 will kill one Blank but what about the other hundred? And do I really want to do these people any more harm?

“We will deal with the Sons of the Crystal Mind,” Ashel 5 says. “But first we need to give a small demonstration of our seriousness.”

“It was my fault,” I shout, “I told Ursula to say it…”

“But Ursula didn’t have to say it, did she?” Ashel 5 says.

“She did Ashel.”

“Ashel 5.”

“I’m sorry, Ashel 5. One of them was pointing a gun at my sister. They would have killed us too.”

“I think there is something you could have done,” Ashel 5 says.

“What could we have done?” I shout.

“You could have said no and taken a chance that with most of Diamond City watching, the Sons of the Crystal Mind would not have been stupid enough to publicly execute the People’s Princess.”

I look at Ursula, who sobs quietly.

“You love your sister don’t you Charity?” Ashel 5 says, her voice quiet now.

“Yes,” I say.

“If you’d been alone in front of the Sons you would have taken that chance wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I believe you. Steeber Loke thought the same.”

“How do you know Steeber?”

“He offered us your whereabouts for a rather large sum,” Ashel 5 says, “which we need to replace.”

“We can help you with that,” I say. “Take all of it.”

I access my Aerac, transfer every kilo I've got to Ashel 5 and look over at Ursula. She nods as much as the restraints will let her.

“Have you got it?” I ask Ashel 5.

“Yes,” she says, “from both of you. Thanks.”

I strain expectantly against the structure holding me. It stays in place. Ashel 5 contemplates the ceiling and the other Blanks watch Ashel 5.

“What are you doing?” I ask her.

“It’s not enough,” she says, almost with regret. “I thought leaving you without kilos would be sufficient but… it isn’t.”

Fear seeps through me like weight in my blood. Ashel 5 turns to Ursula.

“I have sent you a file Ursula,” she says. “I want you to open it.”

“What-what is it?” Ursula says.

“It’s a recording of the full-on vix link made by my husband as the Sons of the Crystal Mind burned him to death. You will experience that Ursula.”

“No!” I cry. “You’ll kill her!”

“Maybe not,” Ashel 5 says. “Some of the intensity has been reduced by elongating the file. It’s locked though, so once you’re in you stay until the end.”

“Send it to me!” I shout.

“No Charity,” Ashel 5 says, “because that is what you want. Open it Ursula.”

Ursula’s whole body shakes. Tears make shiny zigzags down her cheeks and her upper lip is wet where her nose has run.

“Open it,” Ashel 5 says. “Open it and know what my husband knew.”

“Please,” Ursula says.

“Come on Ursula,” Ashel 5 says. “We’re recording this for everyone to see later. I thought you’d like that.”

“I don’t,” Ursula says. She sounds like a little girl.

I send a message to Harlan with our coordinates:

THE BLANKS HAVE US. PLEASE HELP AND I WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING CENTRIA KNOWS ABOUT THE NFE.

“Ashel 5, listen, please,” I say.

“Open the file Ursula,” Ashel 5 says.

“Don’t,” I say.

“OPEN THE FILE URSULA!”

Ursula sobs and shakes her head. Ashel 5 raises her fuze and shoots me through the right elbow-

Pain like the worst thing ever known condenses to a point.

A trillion of those points appear calmly and quietly in my body.

A nova of agony blasts everything, everything-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!

Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop!

PLLLEEEAAASE-!

Aftershocks excruciate as the pain overwhelms me. I will do anything to blot it out, distract it or beat it down. I want to punish myself for feeling it but rage is like a blow to an open wound. I try and smash the back of my head against the diamond pole but can’t move enough to do it. I scream myself silent but rawness in my throat fades against the torment blazing in my elbow. I try to resist it, manage it and even make friends with it but it comes back at me again and again.

Ursula cries something that sounds like my name. Ashel 5 speaks too although I can’t understand what she says. She closes in and smashes the grip of her gun into my right cheekbone, the blow ricocheting across the bridge of my nose. I try to scream again and choke on rushing blood. I manage to spit it out and some hits Ashel 5. Her expression twists into a snarl; if the pain had a face, it would be hers. She jams the barrel of her fuze into the crook of my left elbow and turns to stare at Ursula. Ursula’s eyes widen and she jerks slightly as she accesses the file.

Sweet relief eases up from my bare feet and soon I no longer feel my shattered elbow or cracked face. Ursula doesn’t move; she stares in my direction but I know she doesn’t see me. Instead she sees what 88 Rabian saw when he was tied to that post in New Runcton.

Ursula flinches; this must be the moment when Thom3 Hobb shot the ignition into the pyre. Ursula tries to shy away from it but the restraints hold her. She whimpers.

“Ashel 5,” I say. My voice is thick and barely works through the painkiller rising from the Basis. “Please stop. I will do anything.”

“You’re doing what I want you to do,” Ashel 5 says.

“This won’t achieve-”

Ashel 5 shoves the barrel of her fuze into my mouth.

“Shh,” she says.

Ursula screams; a short piercing sound like an alarm. I imagine her/88 Rabian’s point of view: the terrible crowd, the rant from Thom3 Hobb and worst of all the heat, a terrible thoughtless energy that gets closer by the second and by the millimetre. Tears blur my vision into abstract shapes. Ursula is a streak of light in front of me, Ashel 5 a large dark block to the left and around us the Blanks are a silent grey border.

Ursula screams again, for longer this time. Sweat runs and drips as her body tries in vain to cool itself down. She wants to thrash from side-to-side but all she can do is tremble furiously. Her eyes are wide with horror and her flesh reddens. She coughs furiously, thinking her lungs are full of smoke. Will her body believe she has burned to death and therefore die? Like the flames, it is the unknowing agent of a universe hidden far above us that knows no love, only physics.

My eyes come back into focus and I become conscious of the hard plastic texture of the weapon resting on my lower teeth. Ashel 5 watches Ursula with a slight frown and presently pulls the fuze barrel out of my mouth. I try and call to Ursula but can’t; the pain-killing drug has anaesthetised me completely.

I send her a message:

STAY IN REALITY

It doesn’t work; she can’t see anything except the flames. Suddenly she presses her throat against the restraint. She is going to choke herself. Clever girl. It will be a victory of sorts.

The structure holding Ursula dissolves. She falls onto her back and writhes blindly, flipping over as if the floor is red-hot. The movement is ferocious, desperate; Ursula looks like she is trying to jerk out the agony in glistening droplets of sweat.

She stops writhing; her hands hook and tighten into claws as her legs draw up. For a while she stays in that clenched position, her inhuman gulping much worse than the screams. Every muscle in her body twitches visibly as if her trapped flesh is trying to flee. Slowly, the expression goes out of her face. She seems to become a simpler organism, one consisting entirely of tormented sense.

The burning goes on and on, longer it seems than at New Runcton. I wonder how close Ursula is to the moment of 88 Rabian’s death. How will she deal with infinity, my happy lovely sister? I picture the sunny avenues of her character darkening in the face of it, the shadow spreading through her.