“Please don’t do that,” Clive said. His voice echoed from inside the orb. “It’s not pleasant.”
“Rhythm help me, what is that?”
“Oh, the robots gave me an idea. I had a poke around inside my mind, and I was right. The ship has a fair few of these maintenance robots.” Clive slithered forward, tentacles gesticulating as he talked. “This is a bit better than the nanobot cloud, right?”
“I think, actually it’s much worse,” Skorra said. “You look a little scary.”
“Really,” Clive said. “Wait a moment.” The orb raised, tentacles clumping together until they looked like two long legs. Blue light shimmered around it as Clive summoned nanobots from within the air. They coalesced around the robot, obscuring it from view. “Maybe a combination of the two?”
Kestok winced. Clive’s body looked odd, his legs stretched out too long to hide the tentacles, his torso too wide as it concealed the orb. “Maybe keep working on it? Can you do the camera for us?” Clive nodded in response.
“I was thinking,” Skorra said, running her fingers through the fur on her cheeks. “Can’t we just take the matrix from the smaller ship and plug that in?”
Kestok shook his head, his eyes fixed on the screen as the image slowly grew larger. “Too small. It would probably overload, and then we would be out another matrix.”
“What about making one?”
Kestok let out a low chuckle. “We don’t have the facilities here. You need some real specialised technology. Micro-singularities, gravity manipulators, quantum entanglers. We don’t have that here.”
“Are you sure? We might?”
“We don’t,” Clive said. “Sadly. I just checked. Ok, there we go.” He ran his hand across the glass. There was a squealing as the hidden tentacle dragged across the surface.
The tiny objects were clear now. It was a convoy, a cluster of ground vehicles, trundling across the wasteland on wheels and tracks. From the back of them, clusters of salvaged metal and parts jabbed up at the sky.
“Ah,” Kestok said. “So, looks like we might just find what we need after all.”
The Seeker slunk out of the hangar bay, sliding gently through the open doors, travelling this time under its own power, rather than dangling from the magnetic cables. Kestok had done an admirable job, repairing the landing struts and what hull damage he could. Here and there some slashes into the metal remained, scars from Merydia.
It descended, coursing through the atmosphere, air catching alight as it dropped. This time, the descent was controlled, a calm orderly flight towards the huge city below. Michael watched the metal shutters roll back once the fire had cleared, exposing the barren planet below. This close it was easy to see that the city itself was built from the bones of the starships that surrounded it.
“Approaching vessel,” boomed a voice through the communications panel. Mellok was sat at it, his hands pressing the key to accept the incoming message. “Identify yourselves.”
“This is an independent ship, the Seeker, descending from our mothership, the Sword. We seek permission to land, to engage in trade,” Mellok said. He was leaning close to the microphone in the console, closer than he needed to be.
“Well. This is a first. Someone coming to us,” the voice said. It let out a hearty laugh. “I’m transmitting instructions to land. Welcome to Arkessa.”
The instructions sent them to a landing pad, nestled between tall, creaking towers. It was a cluster of them, arranged haphazardly. Rusted transports filled the others, people milling around them, loading the bays with scrap metal. The Seeker hung in the air for a moment, hovering above its designated pad, before lowering itself softly to the ground. The struts had been repaired, but you could never be too careful.
Michael strolled down the ramp and immediately gagged. The air had a rough acidic tang that made his eyes water.
“Ugh,” he said. “Not a brilliant first impression.”
“No,” Aileena said, following behind him. “This is pretty rancid.” Her outer eyes were watering.
“I don’t think it’s so bad,” Mellok said. “Reminds me of home.”
“Awesome, can’t wait to get to Cortica if that’s the case.” Michael glared at the feathered alien as he scuttled down to the pad. Brekt was standing in the doorway of the airlock behind him, rifle cradled in his arms. They had left the others aboard the Sword. Leaving their new ship unattended in an unknown system seemed like a terrible idea.
“My, my, travellers from afar. Well, I didn’t quite believe it when I heard you was coming.” The alien approaching them was thin, his limbs long and gangly, his arms drooping past his knees. He had mint green skin, and a series of sharp black quills jutting from the top of his head. He walked towards them in an odd bouncing gait. “Normally we ship stuff out, people ain’t so keen to come to us. Not exactly resort-quality around here.”
“And you are?” Aileena said, her hand falling to her hip, to the hidden pistol in her waistband.
“Murt. I’m boss of the salvagers on this rust heap. Well, this band of them anyway. There are others who are a bit more… rough and tumble than me. Just happened we had control of the comms tower today.”
“So, gangs then?”
Murt held one of his hands to his chest, feigning a gasp. “Madam you wound me! We are a legitimate enterprise. Still, it would best if the other crews didn’t know you were here, some might take advantage of you. Especially considering who you are.”
“And we are?” Aileena narrowed her eyes. Something about Murt was unsettling her.
“Well, this fella anyway,” Murt said, wrapping his long arm around Michael. “Everyone knows who you are. Fame is a bit of a double-edged sword.” Murt’s face was wide with a sinister smirk. “I can’t quite believe my luck! When my boys came back from the most recent haul with that video, I thought, nah, can’t be. That knower of truth stuff is all bollocks.”
“I don’t like where this is going. What video?” Michael said, lifting Murt’s arm and ducking underneath.
“You don’t know?” The sleazy alien said, bouncing on his heels. “It’s everywhere. Bouncing from ship to ship. You solving some impossible puzzle? The crowd chanting your name? It’s big news on the ole’ ship to ship rumour mill. Now, what brings you to my humble shithole? Need some metal? A new power converter? A—”
Murt was cut off by a loud siren, a long piercing wail. The people on the pads began to scatter, rushing to grip onto a railing that ran nearby. Murt did the same, and Michael took the hint, copying the strange alien.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Shitting creation beam! It’s off schedule. Hold onto that railing holy boy, stuff is about to get wobbly round here.”
There was a strange sensation, a rumbling from deep beneath his legs. Aileena and Mellok had held onto the bar, whilst Brekt had chosen to disappear inside the Seeker, sealing the door, just in case. It was like an earthquake, but it grew in strength. Around them, the ramshackle metal buildings began to vibrate. It took Michael a moment to realise that the city had begun to move.
Then, for a second, there was silence, as if all sound was waiting for something. That fraction of patience was answered by a deep throbbing, as a giant wave of green light struck the ground. It covered everywhere, stretching right across the horizon. It was moving, heading towards the city.
As it swept across the ground, the landscape shifted. It was like the ground the light passed over became liquid, reshaping itself like clay, solidifying into half fragments of ships, prows and hulls buried into the ground they had so recently been.