Solar Flare, page 20
“Okay, if it will make you feel better, we’ll check the scanners. Dad taught me how to read the meteorology maps and I’m pretty good. Not that it really matters; the village has a storm detection system way more advanced than our airship so, if there was anything, they’d know already,” he explained to the cat as he flipped a few switches and lights in the cockpit flickered to life. On the central monitor, lines of jet streams and air pressure icons materialized. “Here, see this? That air current from the mountains is what’s causing the clouds outside. A little late in the year for thunderstorms but they said it’s been a warm fall so it’s nothing to…worry…”
Thomas’ voice trailed off, the gentle glow of the screen reflecting off his wide eyes. Thomas blinked and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. He was tired, he wasn’t reading that right. He squinted and looked at the screen again. Hemingway peered for a moment at Thomas, then back at the sky. He licked his thumb and meowed.
* * *
Beyond the circle of airships, the village was quiet save for the rattling of shutters in the growing wind, but nobody seemed to care much. They lived on the plains. Wind was not a foreign concept. But that rattling did obscure the sound of feet scampering through the prairie grass and skirting along the edges of town, one set human and the other feline, keeping pace. Thomas slid against the exterior wall of the community center, slowly stretching up on his toes and straightening his spine to peek in the window. Wrong window. He tried another, then another, before finding the one he was looking for. He cupped his hands against the glass and peered into the darkened space. The room seemed empty. The only sign of movement was a few blinking lights at the control panels.
Thomas tried the window, but it was locked. He found a long, sturdy twig and was able to jam it between the panels, reaching it towards the locking mechanism—
click
The lock popped and Thomas squeaked in surprise, then glanced around to make sure no one had heard the involuntary noise. He hadn’t actually expected it to work.
Wind whipping his hair in his face, Thomas pressed his fingers against the glass and eased it sideways along the track, until suddenly it stopped. Thomas tugged at the window, then tugged again. It wouldn’t budge. He pressed his face against the glass and could see there was a bar in the track, something intended to keep the window from opening all the way. Thomas grumbled and leaned against the building. All this work and the window opening was too small for him. Hemingway rubbed against his leg, sheltering behind Thomas as the wind blew harder and harder. Thomas crossed his arms, then dropped them. He looked down at the cat. The window was too small for him, but…
* * *
The official story that came out following the events of the next day was that a cat from one of the visiting farms had snuck out, climbed through an open window at the community center, and landed on the control panel for the village’s early detection storm defense matrix. Of course, nobody realized this until the village elders were startled from their beds by the blaring of alarms and, stumbling into the community center’s control room, found a fluffy Midwest Coon dozing contentedly on the central console. It was easy enough to make the assessment that the cat had leapt onto the activation buttons by accident, but even a cursory glance over the meteorological equipment proved just how fortuitous this was.
The computer system was programmed to detect storms in progress, which it did with great accuracy. The early detection and diffusion system was very good at this, as long as the storms followed the expected patterns programmed into its software.
The unusually warm and wet autumn, however, was not expected. Nor was the storm that lingered for an unusually long time over the mountains, creating a massive draft of cold air that swept suddenly high over the plains that night. If these two systems met, each rotating in opposite directions, by the time they collided it may have already been too late for the diffusion array to stop it.
That’s what might have happened, had a rogue ship’s cat not happened to activate the diffusion array, flooding the atmosphere with energy that warmed the incoming cold, dry air just as it was arriving from the mountains, thus negating the storm conditions before they had a chance to interact. It was a remarkable stroke of luck, and the village elders swore they would take this opportunity to upgrade their storm defense software to better predict such unusual events.
Thomas and his father remained in the village for a few days to offer any assistance they could, but eventually the time came for them to return to the skies. The greenhouses did best when kept at higher altitudes and generated their own power from kinetic motion, and the family preferred to stay on the move anyways.
As they drifted off, a vanishing speck within the great blue expanse that blanketed fields of green and brown below, Thomas’ father waved a hand to shoo Hemingway off the control panel.
“Darn cat,” Adrian grumbled, voice gruff despite the twinkle in his eye. “It’s almost like someone undid all that work I put into teaching him not to jump on buttons.”
Adrian glanced sideways at his son, who had been uncharacteristically unopinionated as to how Hemingway managed to get out the other night. Thomas nodded, not taking his eyes off the report he was reading from the gardening drones, small hints of red flushing in his cheeks.
Adrian chuckled to himself and shot Hemingway a look. Hemingway said nothing, remaining as guarded a secret keeper as ever, but stretched out across the console and yawned.
RADIANT
by Rhondi Salsitz
“Trespass! Intruder alert!” A pause and then: “Exit immediately. This property is scheduled for destruction.”
She expected the warning, but not that the AI would carry her father’s voice. It shook Robbie more than his body being shipped home unexpectedly had.
“I’m in,” she said to Chloe over the transmitter. She scanned the brilliant, silvery track ahead and behind as she set her vehicle into the fast lane. “It’s a God-be-damned solar road. Nothing like what was specified in the NDA and contract for Dad that we unearthed. This is no construction service track. Keep that signal bouncing. I don’t want to be traced. They’re getting ready to blow the place.”
“You know that how?”
“Look at the recording from the drop point. The whole area was cordoned off as well as camouflaged. Flags, warnings, you name it. I’m praying I don’t run over a mine. Chloe, give me a voice!”
Her partner and hacker said drily, “They’re going to find you eventually. Soon as you start transmitting, we’ll be revealed. That’s how it works in a Dead Zone. Our presence will stand out.” A pause, then, “You have signal. I’ll cover you as long as I can.”
Robbie knew she would. They were in this together, the rare kind of connection one sometimes makes in life. Building the road had killed her father; now it could kill her. She had no physical evidence to claim that, but she knew it just as surely as she knew his name and hers: Robert Masters, called Bob; Roberta Masters, called Robbie.
He’d not kept in contact with her while she worked grad studies, unlike he usually did. She strongly suspected that he couldn’t because of security clearances. He was always terribly proud of his projects, his legacy. That had hurt her feelings once, until he’d held her close and explained that she had her own fate to find, he wouldn’t saddle her with his. But he had, hadn’t he?
She’d find out why he’d lost his life for this project and expose it to the world—because this…this…was an incredible asset and he’d been jacked over for it. He must have scammed them to build it. That had been foolish and impulsive—and so like him. So what did they want hidden?
She opened transmission. “This is Roberta Masters. My father, Bob Masters, built this road. He died getting it finished and now it’s scheduled for demolition before it’s ever been used. Ride along with me as I find out why,” and let the podcast roll.
She settled deeper into her sled’s seat. She wanted the wind in her face but couldn’t afford the drag. Nor could she allow the sun on her skin because she’d had to scuttle most of her hydration and food supplies for weight. The only things she hadn’t sacrificed were her electronics for monitoring and speed.
She checked the screens on her decoys. Lagging far, far behind her, as intended, they skimmed the same lanes.
A sudden explosion, punctuated with an orange blossom as one took a hit. She looked back to see smoke billowing up. Robbie wrapped her hands tighter about the controls. Too soon. She shouldn’t be frightened, but she was. The road seemed to rear up and then settle flat, wheels skimming it effortlessly. Energy rose and the sled gulped it down before joining the cycle, returning it with its velocity. Perpetual, almost.
Nearly.
Awfully.
She took a meager swig of her only water and couldn’t say aloud the rest of her immediate thoughts. Her father couldn’t find work. And then, he’d been hired. Quick and dirty. He’d do the job to their specifications, wouldn’t he—broke and disgraced as he was? And never mind his heart condition, that might even be an advantage, in the end.
Frowning, she studied the horizon, trying to determine the road’s destination. Readings had been masked. She could see the land streaming past: sere and near empty, although remnants of abandoned construction camps appeared and disappeared. It tore at her senses, this wasteland. Her education of agro management and resources, her background, told her that this couldn’t be more wrong. Open land had potential, but this area had it stripped away.
She’d planned her sled launches the day she’d noted her drones could not give her the answers she needed. Someone had paid for this Dead Zone. No transmissions in or out. The zones were rare, but this was the second one they’d breached in as many weeks, looking for evidence of her father, because she could find no trace of him elsewhere. But Robbie had no intention of being stopped. Money had been no object but Time—yes, Time had been against them.
Roberta flicked a glance toward her main screen. She couldn’t see what she transmitted, but comments had begun floating about the edge in response. Nothing positive, mostly puzzlement. They wanted to know what was happening. She thought she saw movement outside the lanes, blurred by her speed, but distinctive from the sand and dirt and long-abandoned buildings. Viewers? Dwellers living like desert rats in the nothingness, come out to see what was happening?
She addressed them. “Are you watching me? And what do you know? What has the corporation built here? Did you live here once? Were you driven off?” She tried to grasp a discernible answer.
“Trespass detected. Exit immediately before enforcement.”
That sounded closer. She clenched her jaw. The helmet strap rubbed a bit under her chin. The nearest on-ramp suddenly filled with two dark shapes, heading her way. She could almost smell their afterburn. Her audience reacted. “It’s a chase!”
Sliding her right foot down, she punched the sled into another gear and felt it surge forward. A slight shimmy answered from the rear axle. Her throat tightened a little, even as she braced her legs into place and leaned into the vehicle’s framework. Lean motorbike machines soared into position behind her and closed. She flexed her left hand and hit a release switch, an iridescent puddle left behind in her wake.
The automated pursuers hit the slick, skidded across the lanes and off the road, disappearing in a puff of dust.
Robbie gave a silent cheer before lapsing into worry. It wouldn’t work again. New enforcers entering behind her would give fire instead of pursuit. The road had been engineered to be smart. It learned and would continue to learn, given the opportunity.
“Dad, what are we doing out here?”
“Destiny, Robbie. Destiny.”
Robbie nearly fell from her seat. She hadn’t expected an answer, especially from the road. But still… Her destiny? Or his?
She brushed the back of one hand against her face, found herself smearing tear tracks across her cheekbones that she didn’t know she’d shed. With a shrug, she settled back into position and willed herself impenetrable. Unstoppable.
“Was it worth it?”
The road—her father—didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t. Or maybe he hadn’t built that capacity into it. Maybe she’d only imagined his response. Or maybe he deemed it best that she discover the answer herself. Robbie addressed her listeners. “I’ll tell you what I do know. This road has never had a test run nor has it been fully powered up. Once it is, it’ll light up this grid. It’ll be seen from space, a silver thread of energy. There won’t be any way to bury it then. But they’re going to destroy it today. Why? That’s why I’m here. I intend to find out.”
Robbie hunched her shoulders as four more Enforcers veered into sight behind her. She felt the first jarring hit to her flank but the road swallowed it up, self-repairing almost faster than it had been damaged. The road would survive far longer than she and her sled would. But it wouldn’t survive what administration had planned for it—and whatever happened to her would perhaps not even be noted.
Except for her transmission.
Chloe muttered a curse in her headphone, tense with concern.
“I’m taking fire, Chloe. Travel on this road is prohibited; I need to know why. So do you.”
Robbie muted again. The swarm of responses to the podcast drifted by too quickly to be read. She veered across the lanes, braked abruptly, and let the Enforcers flood past her at speeds that made her sled tremble a bit. Then she took off after them, took aim at their vulnerable rears.
Her main difficulty became avoiding the wreckage.
The road responded with a wide sweeper of its own from the maintenance lane, brushing away the carnage. She moved her sled back into the main lane, resumed speed, and wondered if she’d meet the corporation face to face at road’s end.
“Trespasser denied access.”
Suddenly, her sled skidded across the lanes and down the off-ramp, without warning, slowing only enough to avoid an accident as the road rejected them.
Dust flew up. Bits of brittle branches and leaves and shreds of trash rose in a funnel about her and then settled as the sled began to let out little ticking sounds as it cooled.
“Son of a bitch.” Robbie pulled off her helmet. She squinted over her shoulder at the forbidden highway. She’d heard rumors but never seen anyone being denied access. She swung off the sled and stood, her booted feet settling into fine dust at least half a hand high. It might have held greenery, once. Now she couldn’t even feel the potential and that was her job.
Life grows where water flows.
And nothing lived out here.
Ignoring Chloe’s frantic queries for a second, she dipped her chin and said, “Well, here I am, viewers. The road’s ejected me. I’m not going to sit here and take it. Are you with me?”
Her partner said tightly, “Are you all right?”
“Pretty much. Mad as hell though.”
This time she had a moment to read some of the remarks floating across her screen. Curiosity. A few trolls. All in all, support.
“Okay then. Hang on.”
She took a moment to go over the vehicle. Wheels looked a bit worn but they would hold. Undercarriage seemed all right. Her seating sling could be more comfortable but she wasn’t there to be coddled.
She could really use another drink, though, and none to be had. It was the road or lay down here in the dust and drift away like whatever else had once thrived on this land.
Not gonna happen today.
Drones circled overhead. She waved at them. The sled didn’t want to move. Robbie went through her launching sequence, found the auto-lock had been kicked on, and shoved it off again. Then, with a grunt and a heave, tried to roll it back into position at the road’s nearest edge.
“Need help?”
“Jay-sus!” Robbie jumped. The voice had hailed her from out of nowhere.
A dusty figure arose from a gully bordering the road and eyes nearly lost in wrinkles blinked at her. He wore homemade cammies the color of dirt and sun-burnt twigs and dried sage. He held a long gun slung across his chest.
She assessed him. He looked real enough. Uncertain of what defensive maneuvers the man might take, she stood for a moment, thinking. He could, possibly, be quite deadly. Just like the armament on the road itself. Some of the roads her father had built had contained what was commonly called the Ukrainian defense. If she tried to breach that, it could be catastrophic. Perhaps that was even how admin intended to destroy the road.
“I might,” she admitted reluctantly, even as Chloe urged her to respond and accept.
He didn’t ask why. He smelled like the land itself, dry and dusty and solitary, as he leaned past her and put a shoulder to one corner of the back bumper. She took the other. With a couple of grunts and heaves, they shoved and hauled the sled up over the shoulder, on ramp or no on ramp. The sled came to a stop against the actual corridor and she leaned on it. The road pushed back.
The desert rat straightened and eyed her. “It thinks on its own, this road does.”
“To some extent.”
“And your daddy built it?”
“Yeah.”
“He tried to keep us all from leaving. Said he could leave us hope.” The man looked up, his face narrowing against the sun and heat. “Then his heart gave out. Or so they said.”
“You saw it?”
He shook his head. “Just heard about it. The corporation came to get his body and then all H-E-double-L broke loose. They were about as mad as I’ve seen a pack of men get.” He waved a hand. “How you gonna get back in?”
Robbie tilted her head in thought. Then she smiled slightly. Enforcers she could contend with; this defense could stop her. But she just might know of a back door. “I’ve got this.”
He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then. But we’ll be watching.” He lifted his arm and, from the sands at his back, two drones rose. She nodded back.
