The cable train consisted of twenty carriages joined together by unusually long flexible linkages. There were wedge-shaped engines at either end, sleek, streamlined and humming with quiet power. A variety of bots fussed and bustled round it, including a pair whose sole job appeared to be buffing its glossy black paintwork and the gold lettering that ran along the side of each carriage reading, ‘Line Seven ~ Concordance.’
‘Wow, look at this thing!’ Norman said.
‘Stop gawping. You look like a tourist.’
‘I am a tourist.’ Norman couldn’t help himself. He’d never even been on a regular train before.
The sides of the carriages opened out like the wings of a bird, revealing lines of individual, outward-facing seats.
‘Are you sure all this is free?’ Tim asked.
‘I don’t see any ticket collectors, do you?’
They made their way to an empty carriage and took three seats next to each other. They were soft and deeply padded and had a new-car smell.
A chime sounded and the carriage sides began closing. As they did so, the seats swivelled to the front and padded bars extended from the ceiling, closing over their shoulders and knees. The sides of the carriage shut with a solid clunk followed by the hiss of pressurising air.
‘This is like a fairground ride,’ Tim said.
Coral gripped her arm rests, trying not to think of the roller coaster her ex-boyfriend had taken her on once. She hadn't wanted to go, but he’d insisted. There had been some sort of breakdown, and their car, the lead one, stalled right on the lip of a precipitous drop where it was buffeted by the wind. The metal frame beneath them creaked and groaned, and the car’s electric motors made straining sounds. She could feel it tremble as if trying to hold on and caught a whiff of burned-out wiring.
Their friends in the car behind laughed and joked and rocked from side to side. Derek joined them, and Coral forced herself to grin and pretend she too was having fun, but when the ride finally restarted and they went thundering down the slope, her screams had been ones of relief.
The cable train moved off smoothly and she watched the station gliding past. Up ahead, the end of the next carriage was visible through a porthole as they entered a dimly lit tunnel.
This isn’t so bad, she told herself, wondering what they needed the padded restraints for. Then the carriage ahead dropped out of sight.
Seconds later, theirs did too, following it over the curved edge of the station’s lowest deck, moving from horizontal to vertical. Their seats tilted to compensate, and she could feel herself forced back into the padding as the floor dropped away beneath them.
‘It is like a fairground ride,’ Tim called. ‘Yee-hah!’
Coral’s stomach did a cartwheel and she gripped the arm rests as they thundered down in darkness.
‘Woo-hoo!’ Norman cried as the train burst from the exit tunnel and the view through the side windows showed a field of stars and the gentle curve of the planet below.
Coral closed her eyes, liking the sight even less than the sensation.
The feeling of acceleration continued, but for a long while the carriage was eerily quiet and the view outside barely changed. Then the first faint wisps of atmosphere drifted past and they felt a gentle buffeting. External sounds began as they dropped deeper into the atmosphere, and the air rushing past took on a swooshing tone.
Coral kept her eyes shut tight and brought up Compendia on her heads-up display, distracting herself by reading about the planet rather than watching their descent. She risked glimpses now and then, only fully opening her eyes when the landscape below took on a definite shape and she could see buildings and trees, the shimmer of water and the glitter of a city.
‘Theia.’ Norman’s voice sounded in her comms.
Eltheria’s capital was laid out in a series of concentric circles mirroring the shape of the bay on which it sat. A carriage monitor showed the view ahead; an island in the centre of the bay with a cluster of glittering, jewel-like towers at one end: Concordance on Concordance Island.
Minutes later, the train levelled out as the near-vertical cable was drawn horizontal again. Their seats tilted to match, and it became like a regular train ride, the scene outside flashing past their windows. Heavy braking began. The view of the sea and the bay beyond slowed then vanished and they plunged into a long, dark tunnel. When the train broke out into the light again, they found themselves gliding to a halt in a bustling railway station covered by a huge glass dome.
The side of the carriage opened with a hiss, the restraining bars vanished up into the ceiling, and the seats swivelled sideways for an easy exit.
‘Welcome to Concordance Terminal,’ an automated greeting said.
Coral released her arm rests and flexed her fingers. Her hands ached from gripping the padding.
‘Whoa, hold on a sec,’ Norman held out his arms to hold the others back as people from the other carriages streaked past, heading for the exit. ‘This is a historic moment. It’s the first time human beings have ever set foot on another planet. We should say something. “One small step for man ...” That kind of thing.’
‘I’ve got it,’ Coral said. ‘How about: Get moving, you idiot. There’s a mad robot after us?’ With that, she pushed his arm aside and stepped onto the platform.
‘Well, that was memorable.’
‘Honestly, you’ll want to plant a flag next.’
‘Hmmm...’ Norman said as they followed her down the platform, joining with streams of other passengers filed out into the station’s main hall, a bustling echoing amphitheatre with sunlight and blue sky glittering through the glass dome above. Coral paused at a recycler, picked up her suitcase and threw it in, nodding that the others should do the same.
‘Where to now?’ Tim said.
‘No idea, but we should get away from here as quickly as possible. They’ll have chiselled that augment out of the alley by now and may have figured out we were on that train.
‘According to Compendia, there’s a big Basic Plaza up the road. We should change our clothes and stock up with whatever we need.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Tim said. ‘We’re the first humans to ever set foot on another planet, and you want to go shopping?’
‘Got any better ideas?’
He considered a moment, then shook his head.
* * *
‘Honestly, you two are like a pair of country boys come to town,’ Coral muttered. ‘Stop gawping. You’re drawing attention to us. Pretend you see this every day.’
Tim and Norman tried, but it was difficult.
Beyond the glass dome of the station and the manicured gardens that surrounded it, past the moving walkways and the glistening buildings that looked like they’d been carved from solid blocks glass, was the sky itself. Tena, Eltheria’s second sun, was a brownish smudge setting behind hills to the north. Only Tetzul, its true sun, was visible, but it’s light glinted off Halo, the ring of debris surrounding the planet, throwing it into bold relief. The brilliant white arc stretched from one horizon to the next, offset at an angle of thirty degrees. It seemed to give shape to the sky itself.
They saw no cars or trucks or buses in the city. No large vehicles at all. Longer journeys were made on the underground system, shorter ones by electrobikes like the ones they’d built and used on Earth. A rack of them stood outside the station under the banner Basic Bikes, and people seemed to take and leave them as they pleased.
‘What’s that?’ Norman nudged Tim and pointed to an elevated section of curved channel in the distance filled with clear plastic balls, bouncing and jostling with each other as they raced along it.
‘According to Compendia,’ Tim consulted his heads-up display, ‘it’s a discontinuous highway. They’re used for moving good and freight.’
The bubbles slowed as they approached a boxy, gun-shaped unit at the end of the channel. The gun swivelled this way and that, firing them off in different directions with puffs of compressed air. A stream of three globes soared high into the sky, landing one after the other in distant channels on the far side of the harbour.
‘The globes are called bubbletrucks and the guns fire them onto other segments of highway so you don’t need intersections or bridges.’
‘Now that looks like a cool ride!’ Norman grinned.
Coral squinted. ‘They don’t actually travel like that, do they?’
‘No, it’s freight only.’
She gave a sigh of relief.
Basic Plaza, Concordance was like a larger version of the Basic Alley on Selene Station. It followed the same layout – a long entrance passage ending in a cul-de-sac of shops – but the shops were larger and there were many more of them. Most were two storeys high with overhanging terraces occupied by people wining and dining. The central plaza was a paved circular area dotted with trees and potted plants. On one side, a collection of wrought iron chairs and tables were shaded by brightly coloured umbrellas arranged around a group of musicians on a raised platform playing what looked like tiny pneumatic pianos. The pianos made a merry tinkling sound and a group of people in some sort of festive dress were dancing to it.
The shops in this Basic line-up included a pharmacy, a bakery, a pet shop, a sports store, jewellery, shoes and a florist. There was even a gaily coloured gypsy cart serving sweets to a line of eager children.
‘We might need that place.’ Coral indicated a narrow frontage labelled Basic Accommodation. An illuminated sign below it said there were seventy-seven units currently available. ‘Let’s check it out.’
The front doors parted and they entered a cool, clean, dimly lit space with passages branching left and right. A series of glass doors lined these corridors. Some had shutters drawn, signalling they were occupied. They peered into one of the unshuttered ones and saw a narrow cubicle containing a fold-down bed, a folding desk, a chair, comms and entertainment consoles all in a space not much bigger than a walk-in wardrobe.
‘Basic’s right,’ Coral said. ‘It’d be like sleeping in a filing cabinet.’
They circled the place, seeing no one but a pair of cleaning-bots near the back.
‘It would do at a pinch,’ Tim said. ‘Bigger than a gel bed anyway.’
They returned to the entrance, spotting a Basic Food directly opposite. Norman led the way this time.
It was busy on the lower level, so they took a spiral staircase up to the terrace and found a table overlooking the plaza. A serve-bot identical to the ones on Selene Station appeared. Tall, thin and tubular, it was articulated in the middle, had a wheeled base and expressive oval eyes. The only difference between a serve-bot and a shop-bot seemed to be the latter’s extra pair of arms.
‘Welcome to Basic Food, Concordance. Have you had a chance to peruse our menu yet?’ Its voice was cheerful but its bodywork was dented and scratched. Coral remembered how the boys on the station had treated them. They’re just bots. They don’t have feelings or anything.
‘I wonder if you can help us,’ she said. ‘We’re new here and I’m looking for something healthy and filling. The sort of thing regular Eltherians might have for lunch.’
There was a brief pause as the serve-bot downloaded the correct language module, then it said brightly, ‘Welcome to Eltheria!’ It held up one of its mechanical hands and Coral realised it was expecting a high-five.
She slapped its metal hand.
‘May suggest the navkesk.’ The bot gestured to the menu with one of its other hands. ‘It’s our chef-bot’s speciality.’ The moving illustration showed a sumptuous vegetable stew. ‘All the ingredients were harvested this morning from our own hydroponic farms.’
‘Mmm, that looks good. Thank you.’
‘And a jahlbad blossom, miss?’
‘Yes, please.’
Tim ordered grizalpa – a sort of double-decker pizza sandwich – with a side order of smac. The bot bowed in acknowledgement and dutifully high-fived him.
‘Yo, my bot.’ Norman said, doing the same.
‘Yo indeed, sir.’
‘Could I have a planet-sized smolgrid with extra spats, wodgets and trols, but go easy on the gurk please. And ...’ he stabbed randomly at the menu, ‘... some truflewods and a spatz cream sundae to follow.’
‘Would you like plimp sauce or festons with the truflewods, sir?’
‘Can I try both?’
‘Certainly, sir.’
‘Nom, nom, nom!’ Norman rubbed his hands in anticipation as the bot trundled off.
‘What did you just order?’
‘No idea, but it’s free so I thought I’d give it a try.’
Coral said to Tim, ‘Better summon a trolley-bot. A heavy-duty model.’
Tim was staring at the departing serve-bot. ‘How did it know you liked jahlbad blossom?’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Coral shrugged. ‘Now, we need to talk. We need to work out how to contact Alkemy and Ludokrus without using our personal comms.’
Norman said, ‘If we can't find the equivalent of a public phone, why not just get some new comms gear and use that? It’s all free. We can just recycle it afterwards.’
‘Good thinking.’ Coral pointed across the plaza. ‘There’s a Basic Comms over there. We’ll do that right after lunch.’
‘I hope Alkemy and Ludokrus are OK,’ Tim said. ‘They could be in a heap of trouble after that crash-landing.’
‘That was down to Albert.’
‘Yeah, but there is no Albert any more. He’s just a memory bulb, remember? Alkemy won’t give that up.
‘The thing that really bothers me is how that augment found us so quickly. You saw that place. That station’s huge. There were thousands of people milling about, and we don’t look much different to the locals, yet the augment homed right in on us.’
‘Facial recognition,’ Norman said. ‘Knock Knock knows what we look like and passed it along.’
‘But you were hiding in the bushes. And Coral and I had our backs to it.’
‘They probably have infra-red vision. You know, heat sensitive. That’s how it spotted me in the planter.’
The serve-bot returned with their food.
Truflewods turned out to be finger-sized, beetroot-coloured vegetables fried in oil. On their own, they were rather bland, but sprinkled with festons – a sort of cheesy breadcrumb – they turned tangy. Then Norman dipped one in the dark red sauce.
‘Whoa! Man!’ His eyes bulged and he blinked hard. ‘Try that!’
Tim and Coral looked doubtful.
‘No, I mean it. That stuff is sensational. But start with a little bit. You might not like it.’
Tim dipped the end of a smac chip in the sauce and sniffed it. Coral dabbed a little on the end of her pinky and did the same. Meanwhile, Norman bathed a whole truflewod in it and munched contentedly.
His colour changed. His face and neck turned the same shade as the truflewod and a faint sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. Neither Tim nor Coral noticed until they’d tried it for themselves.
‘Urrrrgh!’
‘Aaaaargh!’
Tim made a grab for Coral’s jahlbad blossom. She beat him to it and he had to content himself with fanning his mouth with his hand until she finished a long, cooling drink.
‘That has to be the hottest, most disgusting pepper sauce ever,’ he said, his tongue and lips still tingling.
‘Hot, yeah.’ Norman dunked another truflewod. ‘But not disgusting. Delicious, more like.’
‘You really are a dustbin.’ Coral wiped her streaming eyes. ‘That stuff’s hot enough to melt plastic.’
Norman beamed contentedly and licked a speck of sauce off the back of his hand. ‘Blame Mum. She got me into curries and chillis when I was a kid. Now we have cooking contests to see who can make the hottest. You get used to it.’
Tim blew out his cheeks and shook his head. Norman was full of surprises.
The serve-bot returned to check all was well and noticed the popularity of the plimp sauce. It opened a hatch in its belly, drew out a squeeze bottle and topped up the dipping bowl.
‘Fill it to the brim,’ Norman said. ‘That stuff goes with everything.’
Something like amusement showed in the bot’s eyes. ‘Certainly, sir. Would you like a complimentary bottle to take with you?’
‘Yes, please!’
The serve-bot presented him with one and bowed. The flat squeezable bottle had a warning label on one side. Norman grinned, gave the bot another high-five and tucked it in his pocket. The other two made faces at each other.
Tim bit into his grizalpa. It was thick and toasty with a cheesy-tomato flavour and small, crunchy, tangy bits inside. Not that he could taste much yet. His mouth was still zinging from the plimp sauce.
He looked out over the plaza. The mezzanine overhanging Basic Headwear obscured his view of the entrance, but people suddenly started backing away from it or throwing themselves to one side. He leaned forward to see what was going on.
Footsteps sounded on the tiled floor. Something was coming. Several somethings from the stomping sounds.
The retreating crowd left a small child in the middle of the forecourt. The boy, about three years old, was clutching a lollipop. He looked up. His eyes went wide, he dropped his sweet and screamed.
A figure darted from one side and scooped the child up seconds before a steel-toed foot slammed down, smashing the lollipop to pieces.
Tim pushed himself back from the railing. ‘You know what happened up on the space station? Looks like it’s happening again. Big time.’
The others turned to see Wilis stride into the plaza surrounded by a gang of gigantic metal insects.