the Noise Within (2010) (26 page)

With the advantage of human tools and technology, Philip knew that he and Layla were never in danger of sharing the indigenous herbivores' fate, which meant they were free to simply enjoy the experience. Having their senses so effectively fooled proved something of a wonder.

Quite how a natural mechanism evolved to operate within a specific ecosystem could work so dramatically well on humans - sentients from another world - was something the scientists were still struggling to explain. 'Fluke' seemed to sum up their conclusions to date as far as Philip could discover. Not that he particularly cared. Nor, indeed, did his newly discovered friend, whose natural high spirits and frequent laughter were proving highly infectious. Layla was even more thrilled by the experience that he and the pair continued in each other's company upon leaving the forest. She subsequently proved herself to be a warm and responsive lover. For two days and nights they were inseparable, then, with a final kiss and an absence of regrets, they went their separate ways.

Philip found this period away from work surprisingly liberating. He couldn't remember the last time he had done anything that was not linked in some way to Kaufman Industries, to systems designs or the project. This enforced absence provided him with a pointed reminder that there was more to life - a lesson he would never have believed he needed. The fact that it came now, when everything work-wise was coming to such a head, struck him as one of life's richest ironies yet.

Philip's stint as the universal tourist was not quite as gratuitous as it might have seemed; there was an ulterior motive. The route he followed in visiting these assorted wonders was far from random, but rather took him ever closer to a very particular area of space - the hunting ground of a certain pirate vessel. Once he was off-world with no pressing agenda, there was no way he was about to resist the temptation to look for his father's renegade ship. However, there yet remained one final attraction on his tourist's agenda; happily, it lay well within the pirate's theatre of operations, which enabled him to achieve two objectives at once. Frysworld was not the sort of place he usually frequented, but its notoriety was such that it held a certain morbid fascination which circumstances allowed him to accommodate. He'd be stupid not to go there, really.

The plan was straightforward: after a few days' shameless self-indulgence on the infamous leisure world, he would turn his attention fully to tracking down
The Noise Within.

It was early evening when the call he'd been waiting for finally came in. Leyton was at the gym, winding down after another long day of doing very little.

He listened as Emilio babbled his excitement at having found 'the marks', before asking, calmly, "You're sure it's them?"

"Yeah, course I'm sure," the voice on the other end of the comm said, "or I wouldn't be talking to you. The top two on that sheet you gave me, no question."

The top two? That meant Kyle and Drevers. Excellent. Leyton's spirits rose to the point where he almost smiled. "Keep an eye on them and let me know if they move at all. Now, where are you again?"

With so much time on his hands, Leyton had been able to make a few provisional plans in anticipation of this moment, so now that it had actually arrived he didn't hesitate. After ensuring he knew how to find the place the kid was speaking from, he went in search of the gym's owner.

"Joe, remember that favour you said I could call on? Well..."

After a hasty conversation with Joe, he headed straight across to the bar which Emilio had specified. The place wasn't far and lay in the direction of the spaceport, which came as no surprise. He made it there in a little over fifteen minutes. There had been no further messages from Emilio, which presumably meant that the two targets were still at the same place. Sure enough, the kid was waiting for him outside.

"Hey, you got my money?" the kid had the gall to say as greeting.

Leyton simply stared.

"They're inside, at the bar."

The eyegee brushed past him and entered a hot, dimly lit room. . The place was busy, with a mix of spacers and local workers in evidence, though few tourists if any. Strikingly pretty native girls moved between the tables bearing trays of drinks, their smiles stretching as wide as their g-strings. At the far end of the room stood a long bar, behind which stood shelves bearing an impressive array of variously shaped bottles in a tradition which stretched back down the centuries.

Several of the high stools in front of the bar were occupied. His gaze fell instantly on one pair of spacers in particular.

No question; Emilio had earned his money. These were definitely Kyle and Drevers, the first two to defect to
The Noise Within.
Satisfied, Leyton slipped back outside to where Emilio waited anxiously.

"Well?"

"You've done well, kid. Here are your Standards as agreed. Now make yourself scarce. Things are likely to get a little rough in here."

Emilio snatched the proffered credit chit, staring at it suspiciously. "What's this? I expected folding; you know,
real
money."

The eyegee didn't have any time to waste on this nonsense and let his impatience show. "You don't seriously expect me to carry 1,000 Standards around everywhere I go on the off chance you'll call, do you? Take this to any credit wall on the planet. It'll pay out as promised. Now scram!" He leaned towards the lad, who pocketed the chip, backed away a few steps and then turned and ran.

Leyton took out his pocket com as the kid vanished, and spoke into it. "Joe, everything's looking good here. It's game on."

Life aboard The
Noise Within
had improved dramatically, Kyle reflected; helped no doubt by the fact that at that precise moment they were not actually aboard the ship at all.

If further proof were needed that their conversations were being listened to and even heeded, here it was. Following his and Drevers' campaign to emphasise the importance of some 'shore leave', they had been granted exactly that, and how!

They were let loose not just anywhere but on Frysworld - a place Kyle had always intended to visit one day but never quite accumulated enough Standards to make the trip worthwhile. The AI guiding the ship was obviously catching on to human motivation as well. Before he and Drevers boarded the shuttle, they were shown how many Standards they had accumulated to date. The allowance they were given for the trip was decent enough, but what awaited them when they came back was enough to buy a small ship of their own if they chose to; well, a second-hand shuttle at the very least.

There were only the two of them. Zombie Number One announced they were to be allowed down in shifts, and that, as the longest serving, he and Drevers got to go first, which pissed Hammond and Blaine off no end. Shame.

After so much time cooped up on
The Noise Within
, two things were foremost in Kyle's mind: booze and girls; not necessarily in that order. Both of these most immediate requirements were well catered for in the place he and Drevers had stumbled upon. He could hardly take his eyes away from one particular beauty behind the counter. Bewitching eyes, a pretty oval of a face and long, straight hair, several shades lighter than most of the local girls, which helped her to stand out, giving her an exotic edge among the already exotic. None of the girls here were ugly, but this one was something else, with her wasp-thin waist, the way she swayed those hips and a cute, full-lipped mouth that just begged to be kissed. There were also two boys serving, and they were nearly as pretty as the girls - for those whose tastes ran in that direction. Kyle's never had.

He looked at his favourite girl again, wondering how old she was and determining to ask her name the next time he bought a round. He might even ask what time she finished work and whether she was available even before she had - Frysworld had that sort of a reputation - though perhaps he'd leave it until a little later in the evening.

God, it was good to be off the ship.

"How would you like to cuddle up to her tonight, then?" Drevers asked from beside him, evidently noticing where Kyle's attention was focused. "Nice arse, hey?"

Kyle smiled, imagining the girl's slender body undressed and in his arms. "To be honest, cuddling her wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

Drevers laughed, a little drunkenly - this wasn't the first bar they had stopped at since landing, though it was certainly the one offering the best scenery. "Well, you know what they say about Frysworld.
Any
girl can be yours... at a price."

Kyle laughed with him. "I'll drink to that!"

As he lifted his glass from the bar, intent on matching actions to words, his elbow bumped against something beside him, or rather someone: a fellow drinker who, he could have sworn, had not been there a minute ago.

It didn't seem much of a bump, but by this point Kyle had to admit that his judgement probably wasn't to be fully trusted. The contact must have been harder than he realised, because it was enough to send the glass tumbling from the other's grasp, to land on its side on the bar, where its amber contents spread in a growing pool on the frosted plastiglass surface. For a surreal instant, Kyle was more fascinated by the fact that the glass hadn't shattered than he was by any other consequence.

Then the indignant shout of, "Hey!" permeated his awareness; as did the fact that the offended drinker had swivelled round to face him, and this was one large son of a so-and-so. For a second, all Kyle could do was gape, but then a sense of self-preservation kicked in.

"S... sorry," he stammered.

"That was my drink!"

"I know, it was an accident..."

"You heard him, just an accident," Drevers added, leaning across.

Kyle wished he would butt out; knowing Drevers he was only likely to make things worse. The offended man climbed to his feet and seemed to be growing larger, more imposing and more menacing by the second. In fairness, Kyle reckoned he and Drevers could probably have taken him, so long as somebody tied his feet together first and handcuffed his wrists behind his back. Actually, on reflection, maybe they would still have been in for a struggle even then.

"Look, I'll buy you another," he said quickly. "Whatever it was you were drinking - a double."

He signalled to the barman, who had come over to clear the spilt drink and lingered anxiously on seeing the developing situation. The white-shirted youth hurried to comply. The offended stranger glared suspiciously, first at Kyle and then at the busy barman, as if suspecting some trickery or complicity. However, a fresh glass of amber liquid placed on the freshly wiped counter in front of him seemed to go a long way towards mollifying the man.

"Thank you; that's very decent," he said, only a little grudgingly.

On impulse, Kyle thrust a hand towards him. "Name's Kyle, and it really was an accident."

The big man stared at the proffered hand for a second, as if he had never encountered the gesture before. Perhaps he hadn't; customs varied so much on different worlds. But eventually he took his hand and squeezed it firmly in one of his own...
very
firmly.

"Jim."

Kyle resisted the temptation to grimace and wring his crushed fingers, instead managing to smile as he withdrew his hand and moved it out of sight beneath the counter, where he could flex it in private.

"Are you two here as tourists, or crew off a ship?" Jim asked.

Kyle and Drevers exchanged a quick, wary glance. "A bit of both," the latter said.

"We've been saving up, knowing the ship was due here," Kyle improvised quickly, seizing on Drevers' explanation.

Jim grunted and swirled his glass. "Sensible thinking."

"And you? Crew or tourist?"

The big man sat back. "The latter, I suppose. I'm a soldier by trade."

"You mean a mercenary," Drevers interjected, in a slightly disparaging tone, or so it seemed to Kyle, but their new friend didn't seem to notice.

"If you like. Made a great deal of money recently and wanted to go somewhere and let off steam. I'd heard a lot about this place, so..." He shrugged. "Now I'm actually here I wonder whether it was such a good idea. Reckon I might light out and find some mean and dirty honest-to-goodness action somewhere. Everything in this place is... I don't know, so
unreal
."

Strange; for Kyle that was one of the great charms of being here.

Drevers let loose a guffaw made overloud by his drunkenness. "Of course it's unreal," he said, throwing his shoulders back and gesturing expansively with one arm. "Frysworld is the biggest whorehouse and drugs den in the universe. How could that ever be
real
?"

"Hey, loud mouth," said a voice from Drevers' far side, "that's my home you're talking about. Some of us wouldn't want to be anywhere else. So perhaps you'd like to shut your mouth, after you've apologised of course."

A stocky but muscular man stood there, his eyes glaring fixedly at Drevers, who seemed completely unfazed.

Kyle looked on in horror and his shipmate smiled and then said, "No, actually I don't think I would. And you have my sympathies if you have to live on this gaudy pantomime of a world built on top of a steaming shit heap."

There followed a frozen instant, enough for Kyle to want to claw those words back, to persuade Drevers to somehow unsay them, before the newcomer simply lashed out - a punch which flew straight and hard, landing a blow squarely on Drevers' jaw and sending him sprawling from his seat and into Kyle, who instinctively caught his stricken crewmate.