The Gravity Engine (4 page)

Michael shifted back in his seat and took a
nother drink. Now that he was getting some carbs and rehydrating, his half-Shen metabolism was recovering quickly. He winced as he remembered what had happened. He’d led fifteen of his mortal brothers straight into a trap that had killed all of them. He was a complete failure as Number One Son and as soon as he was home he needed to resign the position. In the meantime he could find out what the demons were up to in Europe, so the sortie wasn’t a complete failure. Nothing would bring his brothers back, though. He wiped his hand over his eyes, then straightened to talk to the demon.

‘
Can you tell me about the European Heavens?’ he said.

‘Wait,’ the demon said. She grinned.
‘The King said I can tell you anything you want to know, and thanks you for your cooperation.’

‘Aren’t the European Shen pissed that you are there?’

‘There aren’t any. They’re all gone. Fortunately Dad has a way with energy and managed to break into the European Heavens, and everything was right there waiting for us.’

‘
Where did all the Shen go?’

The Duke shrugged.
‘Dad will tell you more about it; I’m as confused as you are. You Celestials are completely beyond me sometimes. Waste all your time looking after people who don’t appreciate you when you could be living it up and enjoying yourself.’

‘I hear you man,’ Michael said with amusement
that he hoped sounded genuine. ‘Managing my father’s palace is a pain in the ass and I wish I’d never taken the job. Absolutely no appreciation whatsoever for the difficult job I do.’

The demon shot a piercing glance at Michael. Michael grinned in response. The demon smiled and wiggled further down in her seat to watch him under her eyelashes. ‘I’d appreciate you,’ she purred.

‘One-woman man, sorry,’ Michael said, his grin growing wry. ‘And your dad destroyed that one woman’s life.’

The demon sat up straighter and looked out the window. ‘We’ll see about that,’ she said softly.

They landed at a tiny airfield and the Duke opened the door for Michael. The deserted airstrip was surrounded by fields of low bushes, cold and windswept. He shivered – really cold; they must be in the far northern part of Europe.
He didn’t know how long he’d been travelling and had no idea what time zone he was in, but the sun was low in the west.

The minute he stepped out of the plane he broadcast his presence, hoping someone nearby would pick him up – backup would be handy.

Nothing.

‘We’re in the middle of nowhere,’ the demon said with amusement.

One?
his father said.

I’m in Europe. They’re taking me to the European Heavens. Send someone to my location
—

Where?

I have no idea. North. It’s cold and sparsely populated. Can you locate me?

A van pulled up and they bundled him into the back of it. Once again his transmissions were blocked – the interior was covered in the stone paint as well.

‘It’s about an hour to the gateway, then you’ll see how the Europeans did Heaven,’ the Duke said. ‘It’s truly breathtaking, and Dad’s made sure that nobody’s defaced it.’ She smiled wryly. ‘He has an appreciation for the finer things, most cultured King we’ve had in centuries. Sensitive, sophisticated and completely ruthless, we’re all crazy about him. He’s the best.’

They drove through flat fields
of flowers, and the windmills identified the country – it had to be the Netherlands. Michael had never been there before and didn’t recognise any of the landmarks. The houses grew closer together and the buildings became taller as they drove into an urban area with tree-lined wide roads.

‘Is this Amsterdam?’ Michael asked the demon as he peered through the window and saw a group of houses that were cubes sitting on pillars – but sitting on their points. ‘Whoa. How do they live in them?’

‘No, Rotterdam,’ the demon said. ‘It was razed to the ground, every building destroyed during World War Two. After the war, the city gave the architects free rein to do what they liked. Some very interesting architectural experiments were a result. These cube houses are famous – probably for being as impractical as they are unique.’

‘Are the floors sloping at an angle?’

‘No, each little house is three storeys with a flat floor and sloping walls. When you go inside it’s not that strange, and they’re quite roomy. One of them is open for tourists to see, maybe one day you’ll be able to bring your family.’

‘I don’t have a family,’ Michael said, watching the cubes go past.

‘You have a father and many brothers and sisters.’

‘Half of them wouldn’t
notice if I were to die here, and the other half would cheer,’ Michael said. ‘The only family who really cared for me is dead.’ They travelled a few more kilometres between unremarkable houses and along a canal, until the van pulled into the back of a very old gothic cathedral and parked. ‘I thought you said the city was razed?’

‘The gateway was the only building that survived. The locals thought it was a miracle.’

‘The church is the gateway?’

‘Of course it is – an ancient holy site. You should see the photographs – the entire city flattened and this cathedral still standing.’ The demon opened the van and gestured for Michael to exit. ‘Please don’t cause us any trouble, Prince Michael, and we’ll
treat you with honour and respect. Come with us and see the European Heavens.’

‘I won’t give you any trouble. I want to see,’ Michael said.
I’m in Rotterdam. The gateway is the cathedral. I’m going up to the European Heavens.

‘I don’t think anyone will be able to make it here in time to stop us,’ the demon said. ‘Warn them that we’re waiting for them if they try to
come?’

And there’s an ambush waiting here.

Understood
,
his father said
. Try to keep in touch. I’m sending Three and Four to back you up.

Acknowledged
. Going in now.

The interior of the cathedral was one huge room, with
Gothic pointed arches high above them. The Asian Demon King was sitting in one of the pews at the front, near the elaborate gold-plated altar. The Duke guided Michael to the King, bowed to him, then stood silently at the end of the row.

‘Sit, Prince Michael, sit,’ the King said, gesturing.

Michael sat carefully just out of reach of the King and studied him. He was in his male Chinese human form: fair, almost transparent, skin, shoulder-length maroon hair and maroon jeans and a black polo shirt. His face was classically handsome – he could be a movie star – but the effect was marred by the cruelty in his blood-coloured eyes.

‘I have a gift for you in the
European Heavens,’ the King said. ‘You have been systematically and ruthlessly lied to by the Celestial bureaucracy for years, and I’m here to set things right.’

‘What is it?’

The King raised one hand slightly where it had been resting on the back of the pew. ‘Better to show you. We’ll take you up immediately, but I have to warn you about the gravity first.’

‘The gravity?’

‘Within the walls of the city of Murias, the gravity is only two-thirds earth normal. Weirdest damn thing you’ve ever seen. Or felt.’

Michael hesitated then said, ‘Why?’

‘My researchers think it’s for aesthetic reasons.’

‘Aesthetic reasons? To make it
pretty
?’

‘Absolutely. You’ll understand when you see. But be warned; tread lightly
, because you’ll push yourself higher and faster under the weaker gravity with no effort whatsoever. I know you can fly, and for the first few days it might be better to travel around that way instead.’ The King hoisted himself and gestured towards the altar. ‘If you’ll come with me, Highness, let’s have a reunion.’

They stepped through the gateway onto a causeway, twenty metres wide and hundreds long, suspended above the brilliantly green forest
surrounding the city. Michael’s stomach leaped and lurched, and he felt the lightness – the gravity really was reduced.

Glass and silver spires soared to the heavens around the causeway,
appearing much too slender and tall to stand – and obviously only able to exist in the reduced gravity. The floor of the causeway was tiled, each tile a rich peacock blue and forty centimetres across. The deep blue looked like it was under a thick layer of transparent glass but the surface was somehow non-slip and easy to stand on.

The spires were also made of glass; panels of different shapes, some frosted and others clear,
with the occasional jewel-like coloured piece, and all set into a fine decorative metal framework. The metal had a white patina over it, exactly the same way freshly polished silver did. Michael reached out with his metal connection and saw with wonder that the towers really were silver – a complex amalgam of silver, mercury and a variety of other metals that made them strong and tarnish proof.

He
turned on the spot, seeing the soft sunset of the Celestial sky reflecting through the glass of the towers and the sides of the causeway and mirrored in the tiles beneath his feet. The Demon King gestured for Michael to join him at the edge of the causeway to see the view. Michael took a step and lurched – he’d gone three times further than he intended and landed clumsily. He took a few hesitant, gentle steps. It was reasonably easy to adjust to the reduced gravity and he strode more confidently, moving metres with each step. Eventually he took three big strides and jumped, sailing over the King’s head and off the causeway. He grinned ruefully at how far he’d gone, stopped his fall into the gardens below, and flew back onto the causeway.

When he was
standing at the edge of the causeway next to the King, he looked around at the city below. It spread for kilometres before them, with large halls and multi-storey buildings, again impossibly tall and slender in construction, and decorated with more towers, some joined together with dizzyingly high bridges and walkways. Terraces along the sides of the buildings held gardens and boxes containing healthy green foliage and brightly coloured flowers, mostly blue and white.

‘Welcome to
Murias, the Silver City,’ the King said.

‘Are these floor tiles glass?’ Michael said. ‘
How did they keep them in such good condition? There’s not a single scratch on them.’

‘Yes, they’re glass. The people of this city were experts in manipulating glass; most of the construction is glass and metal and very little else. No concrete anywhere in this city. There’s tales that some of the
European Shen even wore armour of glass.’

The technology was beyond anything that Michael knew of in the
Asian Heavens and he needed to uncover more of the city’s secrets. ‘So where to now?’

‘There’s someone you need to see.’
The Demon King turned and gestured back the way they’d come, towards the Celestial analogue of the cathedral on the Earthly Plane.

The building
on the end of the causeway was five times higher than it was wide, and again decorated with the impossibly tall spires. The construction was the silver amalgam and glass, but all the glass was coloured to produce a reflective rainbow that shimmered before them.

The Demon King led Michael to the cathedral and they entered
, Michael still struggling to keep his walk to a decent pace and not cover the distance in huge steps that unbalanced him. The floor was black glass that reflected the coloured walls and ceiling to give the impression they were walking on water. The interior soared two hundred metres above them in a single vast empty space. There was no religious iconography that Michael could recognise; the building held long benches on either side with a single throne at the far end. A round stained-glass rose window was high on the wall behind the throne, showing a group of noble-looking European people on foot and horseback, wearing robes and gold jewellery.

‘Parliament,’ the King said. He gestured with his head. ‘The
palace on the other side appears to be the Emperor’s residence, and we’ve put them there.’

‘Put who there?’ Michael said, studying the intricate silver filigree
between the glass panels high above them. ‘How the hell do they clean the windows up there?’

‘This city work
ed much the same way your Celestial Palace does: there was a single spirit of the city with many servitors that worked for the city itself. The city came complete with fairy servants that could fly, and they maintained everything.’ The King gestured again. ‘This way, Highness.’

They went through a double doorway three metres wide and five high
to a terrace that overlooked more terraces of gardens and fountains with a spired gothic mansion on the other side, glittering in the sun.

The King led Michael down the stairs between the garden boxes. ‘First
: that wasn’t your mother who exploded at her coronation as Empress of the West. It was a copy I’d made, and was too demon to accept the Elixir of Immortality. It killed her.’

Michael remained silent
. The King was obviously lying.