The Spoke was suddenly obscured by cloud. I heard the engines of the transport change tone as Gibby and Buck pushed it back further from the Spoke until the aircraft hazard lights were just a glow in the distance. I knew the transport’s sensors and their vehicle interface software would have created a three-dimensional topographical map of the Spoke which they were using to pilot. I heard a sigh from Morag. She turned to head back into the cargo bay.
‘Wait,’ I said. She stopped, turned, and I nodded out the window. When we rose out of the clouds, shaking off the last wispy tendrils of water vapour, Atlantis was a thin neon tower against the deep-blue backdrop of the night sky. It was reaching up as far as the eye could see towards space. Morag craned her neck to look up through the clear composite bubble of the cockpit. I was glad I saw this before I died. I was glad Morag saw this before she died. I wondered about the people who could afford to live here. Did they still appreciate this or was it all just commonplace to them? I hope they still appreciated it. It didn’t bode well for their souls if they didn’t feel awe at this feat of engineering and beauty.
There was less traffic up here, though more of it was security. These were the executive levels – various corporate enclaves, office and living spaces in the same areas. Higher up were the lift docks and more landing areas for the heavy commercial traffic. I heard the turbines whine again and Gibby and Buck’s music change as the transport pushed back even further from the Spoke. Looking up I felt I was looking at the edge of space. Using my optics I could just about see where the building ended and there was only the cable structure leading to orbit, High Atlantis and the asteroid tether.
‘See it?’ Gibby asked Morag, and pointed upwards. She looked up. I couldn’t make out what he was talking about.
‘No,’ she said, her face screwing up in concentration. Buck’s tune changed, as did the display overlaid on the cockpit windscreen. It showed the same part of the Spoke but now much magnified. I could see the huge multi-storeyed elevator sliding down the cable at speed. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. I’d seen Christmas trees on vizzes.
‘Looks like one of the luxury ones,’ Buck said. ‘High-velocity, five-star hotel.’ Morag was just staring at it. I realised I was grinning. We watched as it sank into the Spoke’s superstructure; even then we could see it moving within the massive building. I was feeling less cynical about this. We, humans, I meant, could build this, and John Coltrane could record A Love Supreme, and the Sixteen Men of Tain still made Glenmorangie. Those three things were proof that we deserved more than this constant, grinding war. I think that was when I started to hope a bit. So I was less than pleased when I turned round to see Mudge wearing only cowboy boots, boxer shorts and a string vest. He had a full bottle of vodka in one hand and his AK in the other. A joint hung out the side of his mouth. I could see both his precision-engineered, high-speed prosthetic legs.
‘What’ve you come as?’ I asked.
‘Dude, this is what the revolution looks like,’ he said, grinning.
I maybe should’ve seen something like this coming. ‘You don’t think you’re going to lack credibility?’ I asked, more politely than I felt.
‘I need to feel comfortable, man,’ he said.
I looked him up and down. ‘And you feel comfortable like that?’
‘I know you like what you see,’ he said and winked at me. Morag burst out laughing.
‘You’re just trying to piss off Pagan, aren’t you?’ I said. Gregor seemed to rise up behind him. I was becoming more use to his skewed physiology. He was wearing a long coat but it didn’t hang right. He had an ammo drum strapped to his back and was carrying a Retributor, apparently with ease.
‘You look like a twat,’ Gregor said to Mudge. Mudge looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.
‘The weird-looking alien’s right,’ I agreed. ‘You realise if this is as big a deal as Pagan’s making out you will be recorded for posterity looking like that.’ Morag was still grinning.
‘Trust me. When I’ve finished everyone will be dressing like this,’ he said.
‘I won’t!’ Morag burst out.
‘You’d look good in a string vest,’ I suggested.
‘Your mum’ll see you dressed like that,’ Gregor pointed out.
‘Mum’ll love it, she’ll be proud,’ Mudge said.
‘We’re down in thirty seconds,’ Gibby warned.
We were going to go in there, take over the broadcast node, download God and start broadcasting. It wouldn’t take them long to take us down, but by then the damage would be done. I looked around at us all as the transport came into dock at some generic broadcast node. We were going to die doing something incredibly stupid. That appealed to me – my life had been incredibly stupid. I would rather have been a musician. Why couldn’t I get A Love Supreme out of my head? This would be a good enough way to die. It was a shame Morag had to go, a shame that she didn’t get a chance to experience more. I found myself grinning. Mudge was grinning as well.
‘You realise if this works everyone has the potential to know every little secret out there? We could turn the world into a huge riot. Scores will be getting settled left, right and centre. This entire system could burn,’ I said.
‘Something has to change,’ Mudge said seriously.
‘Is this how?’ I asked.
‘How long should we keep second-guessing ourselves?’ he asked. I felt the transport get blown sideways as Gibby fought the high cross-winds whipping round the Spoke. Finally the transport lurched and landed with a thump. I heard a clang as a walkway mated with the doorway of the transport.
‘So we’re not taking this seriously then?’ Pagan asked, staring at Mudge, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. Gregor loomed over the hacker.
‘You die your way, let him die his,’ he said. I saw Mudge glance at the hybrid. Mudge’s expression was unreadable.
I noticed there were tears in Morag’s eyes. As Gregor and Mudge moved by me to the door I leant in close to her.
‘You okay?’ I asked her stupidly.
She smiled. ‘Scared. So this is it?’
I didn’t know what to say to her. How could I tell her that this might be best, that this was much better than the way her life would’ve turned out? Instead I decided to behave like a male, completely selfishly. I leant in and kissed her. At first she tensed. Not only was she still angry at me for being a prick, and rightly so, but I must’ve looked awful covered in angry red bleeding sores with a sickly looking, greyish skin tone. I was kind of surprised she didn’t throw up. Then she reciprocated, one hand reaching up for me, the other pushed against my chest over my modified heart. It seemed to last a long time and was over very quickly. Surprisingly the others were good enough to remain quiet.
‘I just didn’t want to go not having-’ I began. She held a finger over my lips, silencing me.
Gibby and Buck pushed past me out of the cockpit. Gibby had a bullpup Kalashnikov slung over his back and was carrying a long, thin armoured case. He had unconnected wires hanging out of his plugs. Buck was carrying a semi-automatic/pump-action shotgun in one hand and a case not dissimilar to Gibby’s in the other.
Pagan glanced up at the pair of them from the transport’s lock mechanism. He was trying to override the media node’s security. ‘Why are you bringing your instruments?’
‘They’re the band, man,’ Mudge said. ‘This is show business.’
Pagan looked like he was about to argue but instead turned back to the dock.
‘This is just a huge ego trip for you, isn’t it?’ I asked Mudge.