Emergence - Chris Harris (beach read .txt) 📗

Emola asked, glancing over at Tors.

“Yeah.” Tors said, before punching the cushioned chair. “Damn it!”

Emola gave Tors a strange look. “There's nothing you can do about it, and blaming the chair isn't going to help anyone, especially not the chair.”

“That's the thing,” Tors clenched his fists, “We have no control. No say if we live or die. We could all die like Naarl,” he gestured in the direction of his house, “without meaning or warning.”

“I'd rather not have a warning,” Emola said, “that way it doesn't haunt you.”

“I'd like a warning.” Tors said, more to himself than to Emola. “Have time to prepare.”

“Nah.” Emola shook his head. “Enjoy life until the end, I say.”

Tors pointed to the window. “Enjoying life right now?”

“You know what I mean. Oh, morning Pandora!”

Pandora emerged from up the escalator and stepped off less than gracefully as she tripped on the edge. As she fell, her hair reached out, grabbed a door handle, and pulled Pandora back up before it wrapped itself around her. She looked nervously up at the others and gave a shaky grin. “Is it morning? I cen't tell, it's so dark.”

Emola nodded at the escalator. “Nearly slipping there?”

“Nearly, yes. Thet's the best bit about being a Trasman; the hair looks out for you.” She spoke to her now, like a mother to a child, “Don't you? You look out for me, don't you?”

“That always creeps me out.” Emola said to Tors, gesturing to Pandora.

Pandora laughed. “Well, what do you Scalimen have? Big tails that are in your way? Oh dear...” She put on a mock frown before investigating, then sitting down on the cushioned chair. “I wish you wouldn't abuse the furniture Tors, this thing was frayed enough.”

“Does it really matter?” Tors said, his scales burning dark red.

“Calm down.” Pandora gestured at his scales. “Just a joke. You can wreck whatever you went in here, we cen't take it with us tomorrow.”

“If Evacuation-Day is still tomorrow and not delayed again.” Tors said dismally, “If it hadn't been, Naarl – across the road – would still be alive.”

Pandora's smile fell. “Yeah, I heard you say. He wes like a mentor to me, learning me the ways of Narcsia.”

“He will be missed,” Emola said, suddenly serious.

“He will.” Pandora said.

The storm raged outside.

There was a creak from upstairs.

“What was that?” Emola asked.

A deafening crack echoed as the winds tore the house's roof from its foundations. Tors watched it fly into the air, before being devoured by the storm, reduced to rubble in seconds.

“Close the door!” Tors yelled. Emola obeyed as water rushed down the escalator as the top floor flooded. The door click shut, then hissed as it sealed to be waterproof.

Tors let a breath out; that could have been bad. He looked back outside and he could see the winds ripping the upper walls to shreds. Soon, the ceiling above him would go, and those walls would be torn away. Down would be the only way to go, with a frantic dash as a torrent of water and acid storming behind them. Wind would take hold of their possessions and use them in combat, whilst grabbing Tors in its claws. Tors would prevail, but Pandora falls. Emola picks her up and drags her down the escalator, calling for Tors, who does not hear over the roaring winds. But he eventually finds the strength to pull himself up, muscles straining and, against Narcsia's apparent wishes, he throws himself down the escalator, closing the door to be watertight. Looking outside, Pandora makes a half-hearted quip about the cushioned chair flying past but then fell back into silence.

And all Tors could do was watch the chair spin, hoping that it wouldn't get revenge and puncture a window.

They were down to one last ceiling.

One last hope.

Chapter 7: Foton

With the cold metal railing in his hands, Foton leaned over the balcony; a large semi-circle that jutted out of the Spire not far from its pointed peak. From here, Foton could see to the edge of New Orbus and to the dusty stone ruins of Orbus beyond. He looked down to the streets surrounding the Spire. There were landmobiles on the grey roads, their anti-gravity generators negating the need for wheels. Foton disliked landmobiles; they didn't have the sense of freedom that aeros had. The aeros had full 3-Dimensional movement, within certain bounds; they were to go no higher than 1500 Standards due to aerospace regulations. Sometimes, Foton wished he could forget his responsibilities and just fly, free of society's restraints and the bounds of gravity.

Foton moved along the balcony, his arms gliding along the smooth metal railing. From this position, he could see more of the parks that been specially grown for this metal hulk of a landmass. While he could not see the people in them, he knew that there would be children there, playing together under the watchful eyes of their parents; this wasn't like Raan, where children were brought up by Raisers. Further away, Foton could see the ten biodomes, each mimicking the average climate of one of the other planets in the Twelve, aside from Oblivion. This allowed New Orbus to grow food and host animals from all of the planets, not having to rely on trade in case of emergency. These were huge, each the size of small towns or large villages; the populace were not running out of food any-time soon. These were guarded by a collection of orbital systems, which Foton could just about make out from his viewpoint as a group of silver dots in the sky. But these were no-where near as well protected as the Anti-Gravity generator that suspended New Orbus above the surface of Orbus. Not only were they monitored by a stealth-orbital system, but their locations were kept a secret, with several decoys. Each had a mag-pulse generator, to repel high-speeding metal projectiles, and the thick, dense casing should be enough to repel orbital cannons. From his viewpoint, Foton could see one of the decoys; he knew where the real one was. These were giant cuboid buildings, stretching almost 1000 Standards into the sky; unmissable, but necessary to house the hulking machinery within.

He started as a sound disturbed him. Turning, he saw an Irinian woman walking towards him. She was tall, but not as tall as Foton, and very slender. At certain angles, her skin had a faint silver shimmer; metal fibres were inserted into Irinians' skin at birth to protect against the planet's weather. Running along the left side of her face, stretching from eye to her ear, before travelling down to the side of her mouth was an Irinian Augmentation, or Aug for short. “Foton,” she said, bowing her head.

“No need to bow to me, Teriva.” Foton said, smiling. “What brings you here?”

“I came to see Tahkshi,”Teriva said. “You're his bodyguard, where is he?”

“He's gone to talk to someone.” Foton answered solemnly. “Have you heard about Raan?”

Teriva sighed. “Yeah. And still my sister refuses to come to the capital.”

“Maybe Arias doesn't want to pledge her armies in a war that may only last a few days,” Foton suggested, “although the Xaosians are pretty serious; they're not gonna give up.”

“Exactly.” Teriva agreed. She ran a hand through her black hair. “I only came here to Tahkshi, and now I'm a political mediator.”

“Tell me about it.” Foton said light-heartedly, “I'm practically an ambassador for Prauw.”

Teriva chuckled, twisting her mouth as if trying to hide her smile. “I never knew you were from Prauw.” she said, folding her arms. “I always assumed Raan.”

“Wha', and talk like this, ma'e?” Foton said in a Raanian accent.

“Wow...” Teriva said, “You should be an enemy of Raan for that accent! And I meant the wealthier parts.”

“Nah, Prauw. It's not the best place, but it's simple.” Foton stated.

Teriva nodded, “Simple's good.”

They fell into silence for a moment, before Foton's pocket emitted a high-pitched squeal. He pulled a com out of it and pressed the button in the centre. “Foton here.”

“I know,” came the voice of Lord Tahkshi, president of the Empire of Twelve, “otherwise your com wouldn't be ringing. Can you pick up Devilclash and meet me at Buun's com-room?”

“Why?” asked Foton, annoyed at Tahkshi's sarcastic comment.

“Because Buun would be a good ally in our war with the Xaosians.” Tahkshi said.

“Alright then.” Foton said, before glancing over at Teriva. “By the way, Teriva's here.”

“Is she?” Tahkshi's voice sounded more enthused now. “Pass me over please.”

Foton mentally grinned as he passed the com over; one mention of Teriva would suddenly make Tahkshi polite. Teriva began talking into the com, but Foton ignored her; it didn't matter to him what they were saying. There was a sudden giggling and Foton saw Teriva's cheeks redden. She waked over to Foton, still talking into the com. “Love you too!” she called into the com, before passing it back to Foton, who raised an eyebrow; she was acting like the child she would've been thirty years ago.

“So, the Buun com-room with Devilclash?” Foton affirmed.

“Yeah, see you soon.” Tahkshi finished, before the com began to buzz; the call was over. Foton pushed the com's button and the buzzing stopped, before replacing it in his pocket.

“What are you doing now?” Foton asked Teriva.

“I'm going to wait for him here.” she said, leaning on the balcony's railing. “You should probably be going.”

“See you later.” Foton said, turning away.

He walked into the Spire, before entering an elevator, which took him down to the penultimate floor. From there, he went into the Tracking room, where he went over to the central computer and placed his thumb on the pad in front of it. This checked his thumbprint against the one on the database, whilst monitoring his pulse to make sure that there was one, or that he was not panicked or coerced into opening the system. A red light turned green and the screen turned on, displaying a map of each of the Spire's floors, all of them covered with blue shapes. Each blue shape was a bodyguard, all of whom had chips implanted in them; in Devilclash's case, it was attached to the Hive-Stone rather than in the neck. The Tracking room's purpose was to allow Foton, as the chief bodyguard, to find and track the other guards. He brought up a search box and typed in “DEVILCLASH-pyr”. She was on the seventh floor, standing in the main hall. Foton sighed; the Buun room was on the floor below the one he was on, nowhere near the seventh. For a moment, he wondered why Tahkshi hadn't just commed her as well, but then he remembered that Devilclash couldn't carry a com with her all the time. On the way out of the room, he spied the old building-com; this allowed him to communicate with everyone in the building, or on one floor, at once. He dusted it off and plugged it in, before selecting Floor 7 from the menu. He cleared his throat, before saying, “Devilclash, please meet Foton outside the Buun com-room. Repeat, Devilclash to the Buun com-room.” He watched Devilclash's dot move towards the nearest elevator. Foton smiled and nodded, before walking out of the Tracking Room and moving towards the stairs to the floor beneath.

Twelve doors set in a circle greeted him as he