The Pattern Ship (The Pattern Universe) (3 page)

The framed light of the doorway reflected around a big shadow accompanied by the sounds of chopping and scouring from the kitchen behind. The man stepped out with a garbage bag in one hand, a paper bag in the other. Tossing the garbage into the dumpster, he left the paper bag on the corner. After looking left and right, he turned and walked back into the kitchen slamming the door shut behind him.

Zeke waited a few seconds then stood, walked to the dumpster, took hold of the folded top of the bag assessing its contents by weight and bulk. It was heavy tonight, the heat from the outside told him it contained coffee as well as a decent meal. Sweet! he thought. Hopefully a cancelled order as well as leftovers.

He left the alley keeping close to the shadows while walking the short distance back to the park.

Watching carefully for unwanted attention he slipped through a railing and shimmied behind some overgrown trees. He quietly negotiated dense bushes running alongside a building adjoining the green zone, until he came to an old rough painted metal door near the back.

Slipping inside like a shadow, the well oiled hinges giving nothing away, he stood inside for a second sensing all was quiet, then hooking the catch to secure the door he made his way to the small room that he called home.

The room was locked. He palmed the key sliding it into the lock swinging it wide open. Remaining cautious and outside the direct opening he peered inside noting all was normal before he entered and closed the door behind him, flipping the latch.

Crossing the room to his makeshift table, he sat down in the dim light provided by the black metallic desk lamp that he had wired into the security light, and opened his food bag. He had not eaten all day and keeping his strength up was starting to become an ordeal.

There were worse things in life than being a street nobody; he wasn’t on drugs, or drink. He was just one of the many thousands unable to cope with a structured and orderly life. He could, but was on a watch list so had to keep below the government radar.

Inside the paper bag were the major remains of a triple burger, fries and large coffee which now sat in front of him.

He piled in demolishing the fast food meal in a few minutes. Then sitting back he savoured the coffee, he now felt faintly nauseous from the rushed intake of calories, but he would survive for another day.

With food taken care of Zeke turned his mind to his other recurring problems.

He needed a job. The trouble with that was, to get a job he needed an address. Which then raised the age-old ‘Catch 22’ situation. To get an address, he needed a job. Zeke also needed a new ID. He could get the ID and fake the rest IF he could get hold of a computer and some other gear to protect himself while he hacked into the governments’ computers.

Zeke wasn’t a thief, nor was he a degenerate, but he did have a problem with society, and it with him. His problem was that he had been badly injured in the Gulf and now had a lovely piece of shiny metal over a third of his skull. Nothing would grow over it and for some reason no amount of cosmetic make-up or plastic would stick to it.

The damned thing had been forged of some exotic metal in a backstreet surgery and fitted as a temporary replacement for his skull, smashed in from a sudden impact with a wall as the chemical weapons factory blew up. The local hospital had a blacksmith make it up until he got back to the USA.

The only problem was that by the time he was returned to the USA as an exchange of prisoners, the metal cap had settled in and bonded with his grey matter. Worse still, they discovered it had been smelted from metals recovered from a meteorite and was even now leeching rare unknown poisons into his bloodstream.

The end result was now a silvery glint to his skin, particularly around the face and neck where the concentration was highest. The overall physical effect made him unpleasant to look at and scary for young kids. He kept away from people. It was easier and kinder than spooking them.

He was supposed to be regularly checked by a team of scientists, but they were more interested in the effects of the metals on his body, than they were of curing or helping him.

In the end he had to escape their clutches as their tests became more invasive. He wasn’t interested in their scientific discoveries.

So what if the damned stuff was making his skin tougher. So what if his metabolism was changing. He was damned if he was going to be their guinea pig if they didn’t have the common decency to take care of him as a human being.

Now though, it was tough going and he needed to get himself a step up. His thinking was currently centred on a possible raid of a pawn shop nearby that had recently received most of the equipment he needed. He could do it, it just went against all his principles.

This weekend, he decided. He would do it in the early hours of Sunday when he knew he would have the best opportunity of remaining undiscovered until the Monday. He knew it would be a piece of cake, his military years had taught him all he needed to know to get in and out.

***

Zirkos had finished the geological scans of the planet below. They needed certain elements to reconstitute the T-Ship and whilst all the materials were available, some of the quantities were scarce and spread around the planet.

Others were deep below the liquids the inhabitants referred to as water. It wasn’t too sure of what it was actually called as they also referred to it as sea, ocean, river, lake and stream and that was just in one language.

Different languages amongst the indigent species of a planet were usual, except these were all of the same species. It was interesting, but of no logical or scientific value. Zirkos just selected the most universal language and had the translators teach just that one. The others would filter into its consciousness, as and when, time permitted.

While doing all this Zirkos researched many of the patterns it had in the Archive the last time it had melded with the brethren. There was much advanced technology within the library and it gleaned as much as it could that was available within the time span it had allotted. Zirkos missed its corporeal body and wanted a ship to house it in - soon.

It set the Pod’s A.I. collating the results of the scans into a suitable order of collection. Most of it was material readily available and could be extracted from remote locations. It noted that some important heavy elements were apparently restricted to specific areas, mostly in the northern hemisphere.

These were also where the military species that experimented with them were concentrated. It had no concerns over discovery, the Pod’s cloaking device would cover that. However, Zirkos had no desire to create awareness amongst them. It would remove materials only where there would be no discovery in the short term.

Zirkos updated the A.I.’s collation criteria and moved on to other research. It intended to study the genetic make-up of these creatures in preparation to discerning their pattern. It was unusually varied and would take considerable processing to completely map their pattern for saving.

***

The Pod A.I. worked efficiently. There were twenty two source groups and it was during the process of selecting the last group of the rarest of elements essential to its Maker’s quest to reconstitute the T-Ship when it discovered the anomaly. It searched its database, but found no correlation to what it was measuring to any previous pattern in existence.

Without the necessary coded permissions to upgrade its processing, the A.I. could only perform assigned tasks and not develop its own independent processes. Its coded instructions as an Escape Pod had been uploaded prior to its ejection from the Ship. These included sufficient codes to allow it freedom of thought and action in escape, evasion and survival. Once this situation had cleared it automatically deleted the codes and resumed its passive role.

It therefore recorded the anomalous reading as something previously un-patterned. It then mapped its location completely including all peripheral items that it considered relevant. Then, the results being outside its designated criteria of analysis and response, the A.I. flagged it for immediate attention of the Maker known as Zirkos.

It then promptly forgot about it and continued to collate and organise the retrieval programme including selecting a remote location where the Pod would be able to construct the T-Ship. It needed to be away from satellite and the ever watchful eyes of these humans.

All of this was within its current level of permitted abilities, so it carried out its duties within the defined limits prescribed by the Maker.

- 5 -

Zeke slipped in through the square galvanized steel air ducts, squeezing himself into the upper section where it exited out above the false ceiling that hid the concrete lintels that formed the upper floor.

Spreading his weight carefully where the ceiling tiles had the most metal wire supports, he worked the top half of his body slowly to the desired tile. His rubber soled boots and strong legs gripped the sides allowing him to hold most of his weight off the ceiling.

Now straddled across multiple points, his thin-gloved fingers felt for the edge of a tile which he found and pulled at. Using the bent piece of wire he had bought for the purpose, he hooked it slowly upwards until he could see the PIR sensor set into the wall about a foot below.

It was a cheap Chinese model which he knew wouldn’t take much to set off. They were easily beaten as they were designed to catch movement. He knew that if you move slow enough you could fool it. He placed the tile away from him ready to replace it when he left. He intended to leave the chance of discovery to an absolute minimum, after all he might want to return the items one day.

Selecting the strip of black insulating tape that he had attached to his arm earlier, he slowly began to slide it across the front of the infra-red beam. It required a very steady hand, which he accomplished by levering both elbows against wall and frame. It took several minutes to cover the sensor as the rate of movement had to be below the motion parameters of the chip inside.

He stuck down the tape’s edges carefully, then dipping his head below the ceiling, scanned the area visually. It was a strange sensation seeing the room upside down. He looked for anything that had been moved, or he had missed.

He noted the red digital readout on the wall which from this way up looked weird, he made out the time, ten after one. The blood pressure rushing into his skull made his head pound much more than usual. He pulled himself carefully back up before he puked.

His previous visits had allowed him to map all visible security. This wasn’t a high risk neighbourhood, despite the proximity of vagrants and bums, so unlikely that excessive security would be employed here. It was mainly used as a deterrent. Not this time, but then he was a professional, although admittedly years out of practice.

When he was satisfied he had everything covered, Zeke dropped down a knotted nylon rope which he had attached across two of the struts of the duct, spreading the burden. It would be sufficient to hold his weight on the return journey as well as lift the equipment he was going to purloin.

Using a chromed metal clothing pole someone had kindly left up in the ceiling rafters to spread his weight, Zeke hung from the ceiling by his hands, arching his body out of the duct like a trained gymnast, extending it slowly downwards towards the floor, dropping the remaining few feet.

With his head now throbbing excessively from the increased exertion, he rested. The aching fury inside his head had been steadily worsening the last few months. He knew it was the metal plate poisoning his body.

He remained on the floor, legs splayed, back and arms in a running start position while he regained control of the intense pain that caused his vision to blur.

He didn’t agree with the Mickey Mouse scientists who said his body was adapting to the metal’s presence, he knew the damned thing was killing him in slow, but definite stages. He accepted the fact, even liked the euphoric style buzz it sometimes gave him as it reached new levels of toxicity.

Now, he needed it to calm down before he could continue. So he waited patiently for the pain to ebb to manageable levels.

The room was in darkness, but caught the ambient lighting from the street lights as well as from a security light on the front window display. He could see sufficiently for his purpose and looking across the room, espied his first objective.

He was about to move when something he saw caused him to freeze again, maintaining his start pose.

A long thin beam of light appeared just a few feet in front of him.

It formed a curtain of glare that he couldn’t see through as it moved steadily towards him. Weird, or what?

What was this, an unexpected security feature?

He looked up, but discovered nothing that could create this illuminated curtain.

Zeke went to move aside, as he did so it changed direction to intercept him.

The colour of the beam changed from white to red and then to a polar ice blue as if it had detected his proximity.

His hands on the floor in front were caught first. The light appearing so intense at the point of contact with his gloves, that it seemed to illuminate the finger joints inside as it progressed past his knuckles up his hands continuing on towards his body.

Still frozen not daring to move, a strange tingling sensation, similar to pins and needles except much more intense, spread wherever the beam touched him. It wasn’t painful, although it set his teeth on edge making them vibrate as it approached closer to his face. He realised there must be sonic aspects to the beam. He didn’t fancy losing his fillings.

Concerned now that this might actual harm him, or cause him extreme pain, Zeke tried to move out of its path, but found that he was now frozen in place. Either that, or he was no longer in command of his muscles and limbs. Either way he was now in trouble.

His head was now an inch from the beam which was working across to him at a steady predetermined pace.

He tried to blink, couldn’t.

The light now reached his face, blinding him as it continued its journey across him. His eyes tingled making him want to rub them with his knuckles, which were also still itching from contact with the light beam.