Just bloody do it!
It might kill you as well; we don’t know.
You’re part me. Do you seriously think I want
Very well.
The personality began to re-route its patched-up power supply. Diverting current away from the axial light tube and the caverns, pumping the precarious fusion generators up to their maximum output. Electricity poured back into the Djerba starscraper’s organic conductor grid. The first-floor windows blazed with golden light; mechanical and electronic systems came alive in frantic chitters of movement and data emissions. Milliseconds later the second floor sprang back to life. The third, fourth . . .
Dazzling shafts of light sliced out from the Djerba’s windows, piercing the gloom outside. They snapped downward storey by storey towards the beleaguered twenty-fourth floor. The personality gathered its major thought routines and plunged them down into the starscraper, a sensation like diving into a pitch-black well shaft. Bitek networks were swiftly resurrected around its descending mentality.
A dead zone was concentrated around Horner’s window. The external polyp was so cold the personality could no longer calibrate it. Living cells deeper in had frozen solid. The personality could feel vibrations running through the floor as the Orgathй pounded and scraped against the window.
Junctions within the organic conductor web switched polarity, high order sub-routines cancelled the safety limiters. Every erg of power from the fusion generators was channelled into Horner’s. Ceiling strips of electrophorescent cells ignited, flooding the bar with searing white light. Organic conductors behind the walls fused, burning out long lines of polyp in a cascade of amber sparks. Incandescent arcs stormed through the air as a lethal charge of electrons was fired into the external wall.
Coming on top of the heat and life-energy, the electron hammer blow was just too much. The Orgathй recoiled from the window, appendages flailing madly as the streams of alien energy churned within its body. There was a brief glimpse of sinuous chrome-black tendrils bristling with curving blades coiling back protectively around a bulbous midsection. Ragged wing petals began to flex. Then the distortion smeared it with refracted scintillations from the gleaming starscraper, and it shot away at a bruising acceleration. Within seconds it was lost inside the nebula.
Dariat took his arm away from his face. The tremendous barrage of noise and light saturating the bar had faded. A few sparks were still popping out from the deep scorch marks in the walls. The glossy electrophorescent cells had shattered and shrivelled to rain across the floor, their fragments curling up, puffing out licks of smoke.
You all right, my boy?the personality enquired.
Dariat looked down at himself. The feeble yellow glow from Tolton’s remaining lightstick showed his spectral body unchanged. Though possibly more translucent than usual. He still felt terribly weak. I think so. I’m bloody cold, though.
Could have been worse.
Yeah.dariat felt the personality’s major routines withdrawing from the starscraper. The lights were going off again in the upper floors, autonomic bitek functions shutting down.
He struggled to his knees, shivering intensely. When he looked round he could see ice encrusted on every surface, turning the bar into an arctic grotto. The electrical discharge had melted very little of it. That was probably what had saved them; it was several centimetres thick over the window. And the fracture pattern in the glass underneath was unnervingly pronounced.
Tolton was spasming on the floor, spittle flecking his lips. His hair was rimed with frost. Each shallow panted breath was revealed in a cloud of white vapour.
“Shit.” Dariat staggered over to him. Just in time he remembered not to try and touch the tormented body. Get a medical team down here.
Oh yeah. I’ll get right on it. They should be with you in about three hours.
Shit.he knelt down next to tolton, and leaned right over, staring into delirious eyes. “Hey.” Limpid fingers clicked right in front of Tolton’s nose. “Hey. Tolton. Can you hear me? Try and steady your breathing. Take a deep breath. Come on! You’ve got to calm your body down. Breathe.”
Tolton’s teeth chittered. He gurgled, cheeks bulging.
“That’s it. Come on. Breathe. Deep. Suck that air down. Please.”
The street poet’s lips compressed slightly, making a whistling sound.
“Good. Good. And again. Come on.”
It took several minutes for Tolton’s bucking to subside. His erratic breathing reduced to sharp gasps. “Cold,” he grunted.
Dariat smiled down at him. “Ho boy. You had me worried there. We really don’t need any more ghosts floating around in here right now.”
“Heart. My heart. God! I thought . . .”
“It’s okay. It’s over.”
Tolton nodded roughly, and tried to lever himself up.
“Stop! You just lie there for another minute longer. There’s no paramedic service any more, remember? First thing we need is some proper food for you. I think there’s a restaurant on this floor.”
“No way. As soon as I can get up, we’re leaving. No more starscrapers.” Tolton coughed, and started to glance round. “Jesus.” He scowled. “Are we safe?”
“Sure. For now, anyway.”
“Did we kill it?”
Dariat grimaced. “Not exactly, no. But we gave it a hell of a fright.”
“That lightning bolt didn’t kill it?”
“No. It flew off, though.”
“Shit. I nearly died.”
“Yeah. But you didn’t. Concentrate on that.”
Tolton slowly eased himself into a sitting position, wincing at each tiny movement. Once he was propped up against a table leg, he reached out and caressed the ice which was engulfing a chair, fingers stroking curiously. He gave Dariat a grim look with badly bloodshot eyes. “This isn’t going to have a happy ending, is it?”
The seven hellhawks glided in towards Monterey, acknowledging the query from the SD network defence as the sensors locked on.
The Sevilla SD network was a hell of a lot stronger than anything we were briefed about,they told jull von holger, when he asked how the mission had gone. Seven frigates were lost, and we’re all that’s left of our squadron.
Did the infiltration succeed?
We think over a hundred got through.
Excellent.
Neither side said anything more. Jull von Holger could sense the quiet rage of the surviving hellhawks. He chose not to mention the fact to Emmet Mordden; the hellhawks were all Kiera’s problem.
Go straight to the docking ledges,hudson proctor told the hellhawks. We’ve already cleared the pedestals. You’ll be fed as soon as you land.he focused on kiera’s face. she smiled her brightest ingйnue smile, pouring as much gratitude into her thoughts as possible for her deputy to relay. “Well done. I know it’s not easy, but believe me there won’t be many more of these ridiculous seeding missions.” She arched an eyebrow in query to Hudson. “Was there a reply?”
He coloured slightly at the emotional backlash to her little speech that flooded the affinity band. “No. They’re pretty tired.”
“I understand.” Her sweet expression hardened. “End your contact.”
Hudson Proctor nodded curtly, signalling it had been done.
“You hope there ain’t going to be many more seeding flights, you mean,” Luigi said indolently.
The three of them were sitting in one of the smaller, more private lounges above the asteroid’s docking ledges, waiting for the last member of their group to arrive. Kiera’s small revolution had picked up a respectable
