1: Piran
1244 Words
1: Piran
Piran
The Hermes touched down with a thud, and the growl of the boosters vibrated Piran’s seat.
He gripped his arm-rests and swallowed. He closed his eyes.
A hand rested on his arm.
“You okay?” Casey’s breath brushed his ear, soft and concerned.
He nodded. “Just need a moment”
“He wants you settled in as soon as possible.”
“Couple of minutes won’t matter, will it?” Piran shuffled. Why did they have to make these seats so uncomfortable?
Casey’s smile reached her eyes—something he hadn’t seen for a long while. Definitely not in any of the meetings with Macklyn, when the main man grilled Piran on what he knew about the Ancients. Sure, she’d smiled with her mouth, but that was all image, keeping Piran sweet while sucking up to Macklyn.
And the boss was angry. Kept a lid on it, but the corner of his mouth twitched too much.
The questions had been relentless, and repetitive. Boiled down to the same one—how the hell could Piran be sure the Ancients were under Haven?
Not in, or around, but under. Macklyn said that too often for it to be a slip of the tongue. And he called the place Haven’s Deep. The old base was gone, replaced by something more formidable.
“You want to talk about it?” Casey squeezed Piran’s arm again.
“Talk about what?”
“This.” She waved a hand, and he knew she didn’t refer to the small sub-hold in the Hermes, the sealed area they’d endured for the flight down from Metis.
“This?”
“Haven. Being back here.”
Piran shook his head. “I’m fine.” He stood. His legs trembled, and he rubbed his thighs, tried massaging feeling back into them. “Let’s go look round the old place.”
“It won’t be the same.” Casey led him out of the Hermes’ hatch.
And of course Piran knew the place was different. He’d been in the Hermes’ systems, monitoring the sensors on their approach. Shouldn’t have had access, but Casey had been sussing with Macklyn, and that gave him a bridge.
There were four guards waiting when they stepped through the hatch. They nodded sharply to Casey, ignored Piran. Which was fine by him. They moved aside, and when Piran and Casey walked on they fell in place, two behind, two flanking.
The deck was huge, far larger than Haven’s old one. It was bright, too—the roof was back, which helped, but light flooded from the walls, pushed any hint of a shadow away.
Piran shut his eyes. The memories surged—racing across the old deck, torch-light dancing, the monsters rushing in from the darkness.
Casey leaned in. “Doing okay?”
He opened his eyes. “Fine. Just remembering the old Haven.”
One of the guards—a few years older than Piran, but taller, with more muscle, and a buzz-cut that was only one step up from a shave—tilted his head and frowned at Piran.
“Used to work down here,” Piran said. “Back when it was a few domes.” He shrugged, turned away.
They walked into a wider corridor. It was grey and institutional, with harsh light overhead. There were doors to the left, with mini terminals to one side, and no labels. Piran brushed by one of the terminals and it flashed red, said No access.
No accessBut it was a connection—the terminal reaching for Piran’s lattice. And the terminal was a part of Haven’s Deep.
As he walked, Piran worked. He readied his routines—standard, but hybrid-influenced, laced with code from the Ancients—and he set them free. They latched on to the door terminal, cloaked their identities, then burrowed deeper. Within a fraction of a second, the data scrolling across Piran’s lenses told him he was in.
It was that easy.
The data splintered into branches—connections, more bridges. He noted other doors, deep file systems, data storage. The patterns in his lenses pointed to lattices, too—everyone in Haven’s Deep had a strong lattice, company enhanced.
And Piran had access to them all.
There were windows to the right, overlooking one of the open areas between buildings. This one was crossed with paths, had a few trees planted in the middle, a few patches of mud that might be flower-beds at some point. A lone figure walked across, her head down. A light rain fell.
“Don’t miss that,” Piran said.
Casey frowned. “Miss what?”
“The rain. Always wet. Even when the sun came out, the forest was still dripping.” He turned to the guard with the buzz-cut. “Get any problems from the forest?”
The guard looked to his companion, who shrugged before saying, “No need to go out there.”
“Yeah? Had us traipsing all over the basin, right up to those cliffs. Guess we made it safe for you lot, right?”
Buzz-cut looked Piran up and down. “You went on recon?”
“All did our stint, you know? Got to stay back most of the time, working on the system. Tough job, seeing as the company never gave us spares. Any issues we bumped up to them, took ages to get even an acknowledgement, let alone a decent response. Most of the time we made do, yeah?”
Buzz-cut nodded. “Make do. I hear ya.”
“So nothing from the forest bothers this place?”
“The odd warth, that’s all.”
“Warth?” Casey asked.
Piran nodded. “Hairy buggers. Stink, too. Don’t make a fuss if you leave them alone, though.”
“And if they try anything,” Buzz-cut said, “they drop pretty easy.” He lifted his Preben with a grin.
“We only had lashes.”
The guard snorted. “Might slow them enough to get away.”
“Probably what the company banked on. Wouldn’t give us proper weapons. Said there was no need.”
But Kaiahive said lots of things. Lies and twisted truths. Whatever worked. Whatever got them what they wanted.
Piran shuddered. “Not sure I’m happy being back,” he said.
“You’ll be fine,” Casey said. “We’ve got armed guards, and the new Haven’s far tougher than the old one.”
“Suppose.”
And the security worked two ways, didn’t it? Kept the odd warth out, and also kept the workers in.
Piran might be off Metis, off that orbiting tin can, but he was still a prisoner.
They walked a few more corridors, rode a couple of lifts. If Piran hadn’t pulled up plans from his access to the system, he’d be lost by now.
The guards took him to the building labelled ‘Sector 14’, and stopped outside Room 25, Sub-Level 2. Underground, again.
“This us?” Piran asked.
Buzz-cut waved a hand in front of the terminal. “This is you. Miss Romberg’s a few levels up.”
“But I can come down to you at any time,” she said, throwing Piran a smile.
He returned it, even though it strained his face.
- Writer
