Michael watched it, as the sweeping field built something from nothing, breathing scattered components into being.
“What,” Michael said, “the fuck is that?”
Chapter Thirty-One
In orbit around the planet, the sleeping station had awoken. Green light ran through its dark metal like pulsing veins, escaping from the inside of the doughnut-shaped ring, coalescing into a miniature green sun. From that malefic pulsing orb a thin stream of energy projected downwards, splitting off at angles until the thin emerald line swept across the planet. Clouds followed behind it, pillars of dust shooting into the air from the carnage on the surface.
Kestok watched the station completing its work with the cold interest of an engineer. He had moved to the bridge, at least temporarily, whilst the others had gone down to the planet below. He had tried at first to argue he should go with them, to help find the matrix they needed, but had decided against it when he realised that someone needed to keep an eye on Skorra. She was eager, but now the Sword was working and powered, her tinkering could be catastrophic. Kestok would have resented the babysitting, but it was near impossible to dislike the precocious girl.
“What’s it doing?” Meggok said. He was sitting at one of the seats that lined the edges of the bridge. He had finally emerged from his exploration of the galley, a collection of appliances in his arms, toys for his husband to puzzle out the purposes of.
“It looks like, it’s building. Everywhere the beam touches, parts are being left in its wake. Look.” Kestok adjusted the camera image, focusing on a large curved section of metal, half-completed decks exposed to the elements. “This is the bow of a ship. It’s almost incredible really. I mean, not almost, it is incredible.”
“A laser that makes stuff is beyond me. It’s like what, a giant 3D printer then?”
“Uh, I think so? Maybe? There are some high-end prototypes that build things on a subatomic level using lasers. But those are tiny things, used for precision bolts, washers, that sort of thing. Not spaceships.”
Meggok shrugged. “This is supposed to be a space dock of some sort? Sounds like building one huge printer would be really useful. You could just print out the parts and slap them together.”
“It’s amazing,” Skorra said. The girl had sat herself on the floor, legs crossed, directly before the projected image. “Imagine what you could do with something like this. What you could build!”
“What you could destroy,” Kestok said. He was right. As the beam hurtled forwards, it crossed over existing debris. As the light washed over, everything it touched turned to dust, vanishing into the wind. “It’s breaking down what it touches to use as materials to rebuild, look.” He focused the camera on the course of the beam. “It’s why the city is on tracks.”
As the beam continued its destructive course, the tracks behind the city evaporated. The city itself was trundling forward, following the course lain down by the hulking robots. It was picking up speed, racing to stay ahead of the wave of annihilation that followed it.
Then, the beam stopped, the baleful orb dissipating, the energy escaping harmlessly into space. The city on the planet below began to slow down, carefully, the deceleration controlled to prevent the unfathomable mass of the moving city flying off its rails. It had nearly reached the end of the tracks by the time it had stopped, barely a mile of dark metal left.
Then, the city sprang to life. Ships launched from pads hidden amongst the tangle of mismatched buildings. Thousands of ramps slid down from the edge of the city, crossing the high gap over the gargantuan wheels below the bottom level. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes streamed down them, escaping into the wasteland like scurrying ants. The track-laying machines carried on their eternal task, laying fresh track for the city to traverse.
“What are they doing?” Meggok said, leaning forward in his chair.
“As a guess?” Kestok replied, watching the screen intently. “Surviving.”
“Oh, that was a close one!” Murt said with a laugh. The alien was covered in a thick grey dust that had been kicked up by the city as it had begun to move, the storm whipped up by the speeding behemoth. Murt removed the goggles he had whisked out of his pocket, leaving rings around his eyes, his green skin peeking through.
“I’ll say it again. What the fuck was that?” Michael said. He spluttered, trying to spit out the dust that had worked its way into his mouth. His eyes stung, battered both by the grey powder and the heavy whipping wind that had been generated. Michaels arm’s ached, the shuddering of the city translating to the rail that he had gripped tightly to. Michael had always thought that it was cool in movies when the hero chased the villain to the top of a train. No-one ever got bugs in their teeth and dirt in their faces in those.
“Creation beam. Were you not listening the first time? Clear out your ears!”
“My ears are full of goddamn dust.” Michael looked around the platform, curious at the commotion that had built up. People were piling into the other ships, dust and dirt streaming off them as they ran.
“What’s the rush?” Aileena said. She was wiping the dust from her face, her eyes blinking off sequence as she tried to free them of detritus.
“Creation beam coming means a lot of new sites for the crews to work. It’s a big rush, innit, find the best sites first, stake your claim and get salvaging.” Murt snapped his fingers and a muscled alien with vivid orange skin sauntered over, large towel in his hands. He handed it over to Murt, who brushed the dust from his face with it. “Now, I hate to love you and leave you, but I have work to do. Don’t want the other crews getting the jump on me. Word to the wise, knower. Not everyone here is as honest and upstanding at me.” Murt couldn’t help but chuckle at his own assertion. “I imagine a genuine messiah could fetch a pretty price if you had the right buyer? You follow me?”
“Before you leave,” Mellok said. He was trying to shake dust from his feathers as he spoke. Every time he moved clouds billowed off from him. “We’re looking for something, a component.”
“Ah, I totally forgot! You did say. How very rude of me. What ya after then?”
“Jump drive matrix,” Aileena said.
“Oh, well, that is an expensive part around these parts. Pretty rare. Creation beam seems to favour front sections, or one full side. Doesn’t seem to like doing engines all too often.” Murt looked upwards, as if calculating something in his mind. “I haven’t heard of one being available for a while. A find like that gets around, changes hands a few times before finding its forever home. If you know what I mean?”
“That expensive?” Michael said.
“No,” Murt said, laughing heartily. “Not expensive. Well, I guess it would cost a lot if you sold it. No, it’s worse than that, it’s useful. An extra matrix means another ship up and running, more salvage to take out of the system to sell.” Murt stood on his tiptoes, examining the Seeker. The ship was covered in a thick layer of grey dust, making it look like a statue. “It can’t be for that ship; you would have needed a drive to get here.”
“We need one sized for a capital ship,” Mellok said. He sneezed, dust exploding outward from him.
Murt’s face changed, his happy go lucky façade fading. “I’m sorry.” His voice was solemn. “You said for a capital ship? Nope. Not going to find one here. Barking up the wrong girder.”
“Why not?” Mellok peered down his beak at Murt, sensing a hidden meaning. “Some of the parts we saw on the way in were clearly for capital class ships. Most of these buildings,” Mellok said gesturing around himself with his arms, dust spiralling around him as he did, “are made from them.”