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'You know what happened to me in Bourdain's office?' she enquired, then started to move faster, almost breaking into a jog. People around them stared as they pa.s.sed. 'Is that what you're telling me? How do you know?'
'Affirmation most appropriate answer. Shoal know all.'
'Look, Bourdain is out to kill me, and I don't know why.'
'Shoal is thinking affirmation. Much tail-thras.h.i.+ng, much gnawing at deep waters. Query, Miss Merrick . . .'
It took her a moment to realize it wanted to ask her a question. She kept darting glances from side to side, feeling deeply vulnerable from the lack of anything even resembling a weapon with which she could defend herself. It took a great effort of will not to make a dash for the antechamber; with the alien floating along beside her, she was drawing too much attention to herself.
'What?' she snapped, wondering if she should simply make a break for it. But Bourdain would surely have placed security teams at every access point to the docking bays. Yet she saw nothing menacing as the tall archway leading out of the Great Hall drew closer.
But of course, she thought furiously: mounting an impromptu security operation to catch her right in the middle of a public extravaganza like this would draw far too much attention for Bourdain's comfort, especially after all his recent legal troubles. And with so many witnesses . . .
She had to remain calm. She kept moving forward, briskly. Her arms and neck were already damp with sweat.
She quickened her pace again, willing herself not to start running. In the meantime, the alien kept pace with her, which had her cursing under her breath. It was as good as having a giant flas.h.i.+ng arrow pointing straight towards her, for the benefit of the dozens of people already watching their progress with bewilderment or amus.e.m.e.nt. 'Late to explain sorry sincerely. Embarra.s.sment, as of revelling in self-fouled waters. Query: your craft is filled to capsizing with darkly operating systems, all unheard and invisible to dry-floating-island's listening machines. If discovered by your Consortium, these non-legal modifications would consign you to ocean-bottom darkness for eternity, far from the common shoal, and with the loss of your craft. Follow?' Darkly operating systems? And then it hit her what the Shoal-member was telling her. It knew the And then it hit her what the Shoal-member was telling her. It knew the Piri Piri was rigged with illegal black-ops modifications. was rigged with illegal black-ops modifications. 'What are they doing to my s.h.i.+p?' she demanded of the alien. 'Please to be curious,' the creature replied. 'This Shoal-member's scent glands recognize the presence of much else that is questionable recently residing within the belly of your craft. For instance, to be enquiring as to means whereby Miss Merrick came into possession of GiantKiller?' 'I don't. . .' Dakota's mouth worked uselessly for a moment and she almost stumbled. 'Did you say GiantKiller?' 'Pleased to be affirming this.' For the briefest moment she forgot about Moss and Bourdain. 'You're telling me I had a f.u.c.king GiantKiller on my s.h.i.+p?' 'Shoal is pleased to note contrition arising from this unfortunate issue. Much unpleasantness. Human phrase "children playing with matches", curiously apposite, with apologies and humour. Dealing in such non-leased, highly restricted goods is most non-Consortium behaviour, resulting in banishment for all concerned far from surface waters, chained upside-down in deepwater cell for eternity. A sorry end.' s.h.i.+t. 'I didn't know,' she stammered. Somehow she found the strength of will to keep moving, despite a sudden weakness in her legs. 'I swear, I didn't know.' 'I didn't know,' she stammered. Somehow she found the strength of will to keep moving, despite a sudden weakness in her legs. 'I swear, I didn't know.' But then, she reminded herself, she hadn't wanted wanted to know. She'd deliberately and carefully avoided so much as speculating what might be contained within the to know. She'd deliberately and carefully avoided so much as speculating what might be contained within the Piri's Piri's cargo hold. Which was exactly why she'd spent the long days and nights of transit between Sant'Arcangelo and Bourdain's Rock in a state of sustained borderline panic. cargo hold. Which was exactly why she'd spent the long days and nights of transit between Sant'Arcangelo and Bourdain's Rock in a state of sustained borderline panic. Dakota enjoyed a moment of personal re-evaluation, as if she could step outside herself and witness the events of the past several months for the very first time. And in that instant, she knew she was back where she'd started, that all her efforts had come to nothing, and she would never receive the rest of her much-needed money, ever, from Bourdain. She balled her hands into fists, forcing the nails hard into the flesh of her palms, finding some kind of solace in the sudden flash of pain it brought to her. Piri? What's happening? 'Shoal-member has suggestion.' Dakota stared at the huge, fish-like creature floating in its ball of brine and wondered again if she could read amus.e.m.e.nt in its bulging black eyes. 'Suggest away.' 'Safety in numbers.' 'You said that already,' she snapped. 'We will move as a shoal, towards the shelter of caves. In meantime, would like to suggest acceptance of gift.' 'Gift?' 'Precisely.' Dakota glanced around the side of the Shoal's bubble and saw, with a start, that Moss and Bourdain were staring straight towards her from nearby, but were still keeping their distance. After all, the alien was one of Bourdain's clients, one of his primary sources of income. The alien floated closer to the archway, and Dakota hurried to keep up with it. She understood that the longer she stayed beside it, the longer she was likely to stay alive. She noticed it now held something in its tentacles. A box. The tentacles holding the box flicked outwards to the rim of its encompa.s.sing briny bubble. Dakota watched as the water first swirled around its restraining fields, then began to pitter-patter down onto the marble tiles as a small puncture appeared in one side of the bubble, just wide enough for the alien to push the box through. As it clattered to the ground, the restraining field healed itself immediately. Dakota stared at the box stupidly for a moment before realizing she was meant to pick it up. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and turned back towards the exit. Bourdain stared towards her balefully and she turned away from him, feeling more naked and alone and frightened than she had since the ordeal in Port Gabriel. She clutched the alien's gift in one hand as, breathing hard, they arrived at the archway. 'OK, what is this thing?' she asked the alien. 'A gift. Accepting this, yes?' 'I'm not sure. Why should I?' she replied, with a stab of alarm. 'What's inside?' 'If Miss Merrick accepts gift, Shoal-member will endeavour to restrain Mr Bourdain from eating Miss Merrick. Shoal-member will also instigate legal reparations against Mr Bourdain for suspected illegal acquisition of non-leased technology, most specifically aforementioned GiantKiller. This in turn will allow Miss Merrick opportunity to sail for safer sh.o.r.es, facilitating hopefully rapid escape.' Dakota opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it again. 'Why?' 'Beneficence of Shoal-member,' the creature replied. 'Much of existence is mysterious. Accept fate as fickle -or determined by whim. To gift Miss Merrick is pleasing.' Dakota felt the cool texture of the gift wrapping against her hand, slick and waterproof. 'And in return-you're going to help me to escape?' 'Affirmation with pleasure.' As soon as she pa.s.sed through the archway the alien halted, placing itself between Dakota and her pursuers. 'I don't understand any of this,' she said. 'What's in this box?' 'A gift,' the alien replied obtusely. She heard shouts from somewhere beyond the antechamber, echoing in the complex of tunnels and caverns that threaded their way through the immensity of Bourdain's Rock. The alien was clearly going no further. Run. Run now. She stuffed the box in a convenient pocket and fled, soon leaving the Shoal-member in its containment field far behind her. She stuffed the box in a convenient pocket and fled, soon leaving the Shoal-member in its containment field far behind her. A minute or two later Dakota found herself in a crystal-roofed forest, under a starry night. Winding paths cut lazily through dense green foliage and between vast tree trunks with a too-regular mottled bark that indicated high-speed vat growth. Her Ghost circuits guided her back along the exact route she'd followed on her way to meet Bourdain, and she jogged down a lane that snaked between tall trunks looming on either side. It didn't take long for her to sense that someone was coming after her. She could hear the twigs snapping underfoot as an unseen pursuer moved towards her at an angle through swaying gra.s.ses, but avoiding the path itself and staying out of sight. Birds suddenly scattered in an explosion of wings, vanis.h.i.+ng far above Dakota's head as they sought new perches higher up. She pushed between a couple of benches and darted aside, behind the cover of some high bushes, crouching there in the gra.s.s and peering through dense foliage back the way she had come. Moss emerged a moment later from the depths of a copse, and began looking around wildly. Blue flashes flickered around his lightning gloves, starkly visible in the artificial night of the surrounding forest. It lent him the appearance of some primeval nightmare G.o.d of electricity. By the faint glow of his eyes, Dakota could tell his sight had been artificially enhanced. She watched as he scanned the trail just a few metres away from her, and when his eyes locked on the bushes that concealed her, it was as if nothing stood between them. 'Come out, Miss Merrick,' he ordered calmly. She was so distracted she almost didn't hear someone else sneaking up on her from behind. She stood, turned and kicked hard, catching the side of a helmet as one of Bourdain's security men moved towards her in a crouch. Burning pain flashed up her leg and she yelled out loud. The guard leapt forward and made a grab for Dakota. Ghost-boosted instinct caused her to let herself fall backwards as he slammed into her, his own forward momentum sending the guard sailing over her head. She rolled back on to her feet by the edge of the path, almost colliding with one of the benches. She watched the guard as he crashed into his superior. Moss clutched at the tumbling man in surprise, and lightning snapped from his steel-meshed fingers. The guard screamed hideously, and Dakota caught the unmistakable stench of burning flesh. She turned and dived along a different path, running blind now. As more shouting erupted nearby, she could hear Moss scream and curse somewhere behind her. A moment later she realized that the local net was denying her Ghost access. And she was lost. Piri, I need you to get me out of here. The forest gave way to an arcade of empty shop fronts strung along a wide walkway that eventually disappeared out of sight as it followed the natural curve of the asteroid's circ.u.mference. It was like a street constructed up and over the summit of a rounded hill. Shots whined from somewhere behind her, sending more birds flying upwards in panic from their nesting places in numerous sculpted nooks. She heard the sound of running feet, coming from the far end of the arcade that was still hidden from her by the curve of the asteroid. She slid into deep shadow between two shop fronts, then noticed that it was the mouth of a narrow alleyway. She ran further into it, and paused. 'Get the lights up!' somebody yelled. 'Get them up now!' Panting hard, Dakota crouched with hands on knees. She guessed they were trying to get the main lights of the arcade switched on: the only illumination at present came from faintly glowing globes placed at discreet intervals, and which were clearly intended to be decorative rather than practical. With one hand, she touched the alien's gift in her pocket. Piri, why can't they turn the main lights on? Are you the reason? Dakota hauled herself back upright, wondering how much longer she could keep going like this, and why she was even bothered to try. They'd never allow her to get near the docks. Never. At its far end the alleyway opened on to a covered plaza. This wide open s.p.a.ce was filled with yet more trees whose dense foliage reached up towards narrow walkways that ringed the lofty surrounding walls. Drunk on adrenalin, she scrambled up a tree trunk, and then dropped off a branch and on to one of these walkways, water dripping on her from the wet leaves surrounding her. She hurriedly looked around, her head spinning from so much physical effort. m.u.f.fled shouts as figures began to emerge at the far end of the plaza below. A sudden shot whined off the stonework of the wall, just inches from her head. There's something I want you to do, so listen carefully, Piri. Apparently we were carrying a GiantKiller in the hold. Ahead of her, Moss held his hands out and blue sparks flickered through the gloom, crossing and spitting between the lightning gloves. His enhanced eyes glowed as dim ovals in the dark silhouette of his face. He started towards Dakota, moving fast. She scrambled back the way she had come, then pulled herself up a stairway towards the roof. It brought her to the entrance of a wide gazebo set astride the wall at one corner of the plaza. Below its roof stood an intricate water sculpture. Water gushed from the mouth of a marble dolphin set high on a plinth of finely sculpted rock, tinkling as it descended and splashed into a wide but shallow pool through which myriad finned shapes darted incessantly. Gra.s.sy ferns and occasional palm trees surrounded the fountain, dripping water like rain on to the sculpture so that it constantly glistened. There were no other exits from the gazebo. Dakota turned to see Moss appear at the entrance, his unnaturally illuminated eyes finding her instantly in the dim half-light. She felt a sudden, terrible despair flood through her. She was trapped. How long exactly? Dakota felt all hope evaporate. She'd been planning on a complex bluff, in case Bourdain might back down if she threatened to set off the device. Someone else, she didn't doubt, had scanned the contents of the Piri's Piri's cargo hold on its voyage to Bourdain's Rock. The critical question now was, cargo hold on its voyage to Bourdain's Rock. The critical question now was, who? who? It had to be the same Shoal-member that had spoken to her in the Great Hall. How else could it have known what was inside her s.h.i.+p? GiantKillers were a near-mythical technology, supposedly originating from a Shoal client race somewhere else in the galaxy, which humanity hadn't yet been allowed to come into contact with. It was a tool of reportedly enormous destructive power, supposedly designed to reduce large bodies-such as asteroids, heavy with valuable mineral resources-to dust within mere minutes. Her Ghost's knowledge stacks were filled with a century of wild speculation concerning how such a technology might work. As Moss moved slowly toward her, she decided to take a chance. 'Back off!' she yelled. 'Let me through to the dock or, I swear on the Pope's t.i.ts, I'll activate the GiantKiller from here!' Moss paused. 'Nice bluff, but it really won't work.' 'I mean it!' she yelled in terrible despair. 'I've got the activation protocols uploaded to my Ghost circuits,' she lied. 'I can read every last f.u.c.king one of them back to you right now, or I can blow the s.h.i.+t out of this asteroid. Got a preference?' 'Lying s.l.u.t, I'll open you from neck to navel and devour your innards while you watch.' Deadly blue sparks leapt lazily from one hand to the other as he again moved cautiously forward. 'Do you really want to try me, Moss?' she screamed, backing around the fountain, away from him. 'Seriously?' Then something remarkable happened. The GiantKiller had already been moved to its new home in a secure storage facility deep inside the body of the asteroid, several kilometres below its outer surface. The Piri Reis Piri Reis had meanwhile been monitoring the Rock's communication channels, disguising its presence from moment to moment by simulating any one of thousands of maintenance programs, with a degree of sophistication equal to the covert systems used on board many of the Consortium's finest military vessels. had meanwhile been monitoring the Rock's communication channels, disguising its presence from moment to moment by simulating any one of thousands of maintenance programs, with a degree of sophistication equal to the covert systems used on board many of the Consortium's finest military vessels. Suddenly, the Piri Piri was no longer alone in its explorations. Something vast came cras.h.i.+ng through the Rock's data stacks, devouring information like a lumbering virtual behemoth. For a few moments the was no longer alone in its explorations. Something vast came cras.h.i.+ng through the Rock's data stacks, devouring information like a lumbering virtual behemoth. For a few moments the Piri Piri became deaf, dumb and blind as this new presence swept through the Rock's computer systems with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer being used to smash a doll's house. became deaf, dumb and blind as this new presence swept through the Rock's computer systems with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer being used to smash a doll's house. By the time Dakota's s.h.i.+p recovered, the Giant-Killer's protocols had been wiped clean from the records. Alarm circuits blazed throughout the asteroid. In appearance, the GiantKiller itself was little more than a mottled silver ball several centimetres in diameter, still held in the same field containment chamber it had been placed in prior to its trip aboard the Piri Reis. Piri Reis. A casual observer might notice that this silver ball appeared to be flickering in and out of existence from moment to moment. But, rather than flickering, this was in reality a series of rapid expansions and contractions occurring almost too fast to register with the human eye. The GiantKiller was in fact testing its prison walls, las.h.i.+ng out in its pre-programmed desire to consume. A casual observer might notice that this silver ball appeared to be flickering in and out of existence from moment to moment. But, rather than flickering, this was in reality a series of rapid expansions and contractions occurring almost too fast to register with the human eye. The GiantKiller was in fact testing its prison walls, las.h.i.+ng out in its pre-programmed desire to consume.
