The Last City (20 page)

T
he sky bled acid rain and jagged lines of multi-forked electricity surged from above, exploding whatever they hit, lighting up the wasteland town in strobing flashes. Ruinous charcoal buildings swayed on stilts over bunkers and burrows in the mud. Dysfunctional transflyers and machinery lay scattered, half buried, decaying where they had fallen. Everything was filthy and broken, existing one step from complete collapse.

Copernicus surveyed the desolation through the dirt-smeared window of the partially submerged craft,
The Sovereign 2
. It was a royal ship that had been hijacked some years ago, now converted into a hidden room. Christy Shawe stood beside the window, alternating between drags of his cigarette and swigs from a silver flask. The gangster murmured something to himself, running a hand over his shaved head, his knuckles red with Copernicus’ blood. The commander blinked to keep focus. His face was swollen and discoloured and the bindings around his wrists and ankles gnawed at his flesh. The rope was some kind of unfamiliar plant vine that constricted tighter the more he moved.

Diega and Silho sat in similarly bound states. Diega was staring at SevenM. The arachnid robot lay in a heap on the floor, frozen, which meant either Jude was dead or too far away to connect with it. Shawe’s men, Greenway Galleys, human-breeds of rhinoceros descent, stood all around the room. Copernicus recognised their faces, once childhood friends, now watching him with bitter hatred. He had betrayed them, but Shawe had betrayed him first and he had reacted then in the only way he’d known how.

Shawe stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill and reeled towards them, heavily drunk. He cracked his knuckles and stopped right in front of Copernicus.

‘One last time,’ he said. ‘Where is he?’

Copernicus sighed and braced himself for the next onslaught.

‘We don’t have him!’ Diega shouted at Shawe. ‘How many times do we have to tell you? The Skreaf have taken him – same as they’ve taken one of ours. The longer you keep us here the less chance we have of finding them alive!’

Shawe gave a crazed laugh, sour-sweet Araki heavy on his breath. ‘The Skreaf.’ He shook his head and laughed louder, then his eyes snapped back to fury and he smashed Copernicus across the face, mashing the flesh of his cheek into the sharp viperous fangs behind his blunt front teeth.

‘Where is he?’ Shawe bellowed.

Copernicus spat out a mouthful of blood and venom. It had been a long time since he’d used his venom and its bitter taste brought images to his mind of a terrible past when he’d been helpless and trapped. He considered trying to reason with Shawe, but there really was no point. He was too drunk and ignorantly stubborn to change the path of his thoughts. He was convinced they’d taken Stacy, more son to him than younger brother.

From Shawe’s drunken ranting, Copernicus had gathered that Shawe had given his brother the original family ring, handed down from their father, and had worn a replica himself. Now Shawe wore both rings, original and copy, on his middle finger. Copernicus studied the metal bands inscribed with the Galley rhinoceros, and though his mind was hazy from the punishment, he still struggled to figure out why the Skreaf would want the ring. Brabel had said it could be a key – but to open what?

Shawe’s fist drew back and rushed forward, snapping Copernicus’ head sideways. Copernicus spat and Shawe grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shouted, ‘Final chance - where is he?’

Copernicus blinked stinging eyes. When he didn’t reply, Shawe’s jaw tightened. He growled, ‘You brought this on yourself.’ He turned to his men and said, ‘Take off his hands – finger by finger.’

Shawe moved back to the window, looking out to the storm, confirming to Copernicus that the gangster hadn’t changed. He still hated torture, but unfortunately he wasn’t beyond ordering it. One of the Galleys drew a hatchet and stomped towards Copernicus. The commander spat venom into his face and the man shrieked and stumbled away, his skin sizzling. Four of the gangsters lunged at Copernicus and fists smashed him from all angles. Sounds became distant, but he managed to hold onto consciousness. The blood from his wounds greased his hands and he began to work them free. As the attack continued, Silho started to cry out for them to stop. She fought violently with her binds, rocking the chair, half-choking herself before Copernicus heard the clatter of the chair crashing to the ground. Her voice rose again, this time with an unnatural calmness, which made Copernicus’ attackers pause.

‘I see two men. I hear their words. They’re making a deal –
100 green for 10,000 gold
. One is a gangster dressed in black, a Jada at his side, the other is Christy Shawe. The man leaves and Shawe speaks to someone through his communicator – he says he’s leaving, follow him. Now I see a man. He has Galley bloodline marks and a tattoo of a mermaid on his chest. He’s kissing a woman. She’s naked. He whispers her name,
Angeline
. . .’

‘Angeline?’ Copernicus heard one of Shawe’s men repeat. ‘What does she look like?’

Silho spoke again. ‘She has pale skin and red hair, caught up in a silver angel brooch.’

‘Oi!’ the man yelled. He rounded on another Galley and, grabbing him by the shirt, ripped it open, exposing the mermaid tattoo on his skin. ‘Did you touch my woman?’

‘No, I did not!’ the other shouted back. ‘Get your hands off!’

The two men wrestled for a moment, then started to brawl.

‘Break it up!’ Shawe’s voice shook the room and everyone froze. The gangster boss moved over to where Silho’s chair lay on the ground.

‘You saw the past. What are you – a witch?’ Shawe growled at her.

Silho shook her head.

He seized her and lifted both her and the chair upright.

‘What are you?’ Shawe demanded again. When she didn’t respond, he said, ‘I’ll see for myself then.’

He grabbed a switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open. He cut off Silho’s jacket and hacked into the bandages around one of her arms. Silho struggled, but couldn’t stop him. Shawe ripped away the binds and stepped back. Copernicus stared at her bloodline marks – they were not the marks of Ivory Condor and Nightcat that her personnel file stated they would be. They were firebird dragons and flame. The flame was, in itself, a rarity, very few people claiming the Pyron heritage – one of those the late Commander Oren Harvey. As for the firebird, no one living in Scorpia had this mark, and only one person dead – Englan Chrisholm.

Copernicus’ mind sped through the possibilities. He knew Chrisholm had a daughter, but she perished in a fire in the detention block where she was held after her father’s arrest. Oscuri Trackers had found the body. Oren Harvey herself had identified it after she’d gone in to try to save the child . . .
and maybe she did save her
. . . Copernicus shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. He glanced at Diega. The Fen was staring, stunned.

Shawe stepped back a few more paces, his face creased with confusion, hand hovering over the electrifier in a holster at his side.

Silho raised her head and whispered, ‘He was innocent.’

A twisting electrical current burst through the darkness right beside the sunken room. It exploded into a nearby building, crumbling the foundations. Above the screech and shatter of collapsing steel and glass rose a terrible wailing scream.

Silho gasped and Copernicus’ skin chilled. He focused his senses outside of the room and felt a mass of body-heat gathering on all sides.

‘The Skreaf,’ he said. ‘They’re here.’ He looked up at Shawe. ‘They want the ring. You have to hide it.’

Shawe’s face set into grim resolve and he turned towards the door.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Copernicus warned. ‘They’re demons and you’re drunk.’

Shawe ignored him, stomped to the door then flung it open. Storm winds, heavy with the stink of dark-words, gusted into the room.

‘Shawe!’ Copernicus called, but the gangster stepped out into the acid rain and all his men rushed to follow. The door slammed shut behind them.

After a second of silence the screaming began.

Copernicus and Diega struggled against their binds. ‘Trutt,’ the Fen grunted, the vines pulling tighter and tighter around her limbs and body. ‘They’re living plants, I can’t morph them.’

Copernicus managed to get one hand, slippery with blood, free. The vines whipped back and forth, trying to re-curl around his wrist, but he grabbed the squirming end of the plant and bit into it, injecting venom. The vine shrivelled to a dry stick and Copernicus smashed free. He freed Diega in the same way and the Fen ran to the opposite side of the room to get their weapon belts and SevenM. Something heavy crashed into the roof of the makeshift room and Diega ran back to Copernicus, keeping close to the ground. Copernicus fastened his belt around his waist. He looked up sharply at movement beside him and saw a grey-faced Wraith with long black claws watching him from inside the wall.

The door burst open.

Christy Shawe staggered in, dragging one of his men, both of them soaked in blood. A curse hit them from behind and they collapsed to the ground writhing, convulsing, burning from the inside out. Copernicus armed his electrifier and sent a blast out into the darkness of the storm. Diega darted forward and slammed the door shut. She morphed a table into a thick plank and wedged it against the door handle to hold it closed.

Shawe’s man twitched, groaned and died, but Shawe’s body relaxed and he lay stunned with his eyes wide open, chest rising and falling slowly. Copernicus checked Shawe’s hand. He still wore both rings, but his whole limb was badly burnt. Only the unusual thickness of his skin had kept him from being killed. Copernicus dragged off the metal bands and pocketed them.

‘They’re everywhere,’ Shawe said. ‘Devils . . . my boys . . .’

Shouting, screams and explosions continued outside and the door began to shake. Something struck it hard. It dented inward and started to open. Copernicus sprang up and slammed his body against the steel to hold it shut.

‘We can get out through the window,’ Diega said, and aimed her electrifier to break the glass.

‘No!’ Copernicus yelled. ‘It’ll let them in.’

‘Any better ideas!’

‘This was a craft,’ he reminded her.

For a moment she didn’t understand, then her eyes cleared and she cursed herself. She concentrated and sparks crackled from her skull, travelling along her hair. The whole room trembled as she used her electrosmith skills to try to get
The Sovereign 2
airborne.

‘Something’s blocking me!’ Diega gasped.

‘Fight it,’ Copernicus ordered.

Diega clenched her fists and shook from the pressure of the invisible battle. The craft rose slowly from the mud. It hovered and strained, as though anchored to the ground. Diega held it there for several moments, then the flyer lurched and crashed back down. Diega collapsed, blood spilling from her nose.

The fall threw Copernicus to the ground, but he leapt back up immediately. The steel of the door contorted and the commander leaned all his strength against it. He heard the chanting outside. It echoed in his mind and he struggled to breathe. He felt as though he was back in the box with his Illusionist father hacking into it from the outside, wondering if this would be the time when the magician sawed straight through him, as he always threatened he would. He heard the applause and smelt the floral perfume of the pretty assistant. She’d hanged herself shortly after. At least that’s what he’d been told. Words surfaced from the depth of his consciousness, but he closed his eyes, refusing to hear them, refusing to remember. His boots slipped backward as dark magics pushed the door in. He couldn’t hold it any longer.

The bulk of Christy Shawe slammed into the door, firmly pushing it back into place, but soon the pressure began to rebuild and it became clear to Copernicus that even the two of them wouldn’t be able to keep it shut. He looked back at Diega. She lay on the ground, murmuring listlessly. The grey Wraith stood over her.

‘Get away from her!’ he snarled at the spectral-breed.

She ignored him and knelt beside Diega. The Wraith whispered a Cos enchant, a call to nature, and the craft shuddered. The mud beneath it gathered into a funnel and lifted them up, away from the ground and away from the Skreaf curses. The pressure on the door withdrew and Diega recovered consciousness. The Fen rolled onto her knees and caught control of the craft. It jolted, then started to glide just above the ground, picking up speed the further they flew from the Skreaf.

Copernicus left Shawe kneeling at the door and moved to a porthole in the stern. He looked out into the storm-blackened night and saw hundreds of blotches of red body-heat flying through the sky behind them. The Skreaf, riding the wind, were quickly gaining. Curses grasped at the craft, trying to slow it, dragging it back, shunting the flyer to one side and then the other.

‘Diega – get this ship moving,’ he ordered. ‘They’re right behind us.’

‘Doing my best,’ Diega returned through gritted teeth. ‘What’s our destination?’

‘The city.’

‘No chance!’ Diega said, already shaking from the dark magics depleting her strength. ‘The closest option is Outpost 109. It has a nuclear bunker.’

‘Then take us there,’ he said.

‘I’ll —’ Diega started, then groaned and fell to one knee at the controls.

Copernicus turned to go to her side and came face to face with the Wraith. She drifted around him to the porthole window. Her body took on the colour and sheen of the steel, and then she vanished into it. He looked through the window and saw her shape drop from the craft and glide downwards. Moments later, mud tidal waves rose out of the ground, swallowing the oncoming Skreaf. Some were dragged down; others smashed through the mud and kept coming.

Diega managed to stand and drove them forward, speeding, weaving through the storm haze. Silho still sat strapped in the chair and Shawe crouched on the ground, trying to bandage his injured hand with fabric from his shirt.

Copernicus went to Silho and drew his knife. Silho looked up at him, her eyes fearful, but he only grabbed her binds and cut her loose. The vines whipped around and he kicked them into one corner. He then dragged Silho to the stern portholes and put an electrifier into her hands. He used the glass-cutter from his weapon belt and cut a hole just big enough for the muzzle of her gun to fit through.