Zelia’s Plan
‘Okay. You see those grav-carts?’
Zelia pointed out a group of servitors delivering parts to a nearby forge, the mindless drones oblivious to the stinging rain.
‘Yes?’ Mekki nodded, sheltering beneath a sizzling arch.
‘Well, remember how you boosted our flyer back on Targian?’
‘To escape the Necron scarabs.’
‘Exactly. You – I don’t know – supercharged the anti-grav generators to fire us into the sky.’
Mekki’s eyes sparkled as he realised where she was going with this. ‘You wish me to do it again, with one of those carts.’
She nodded, clutching her omniscope in both hands. ‘Can you?’
‘It is a crazy idea, Zelia Lor… but yes… yes, I can.’
‘Then we’d better steal one,’ she said, grinning wickedly.
They sneaked across the road, narrowly avoiding a speeding transporter. The driver yelled abuse as Mekki pulled Zelia back, but the servitors didn’t look up, consumed by the task they’d been ordered to complete.
Zelia tried not to think about the drones’ origins as they grabbed an empty cart and dragged it back to the vox-tower, grinning like wolf-cats. Step one of the heist of the millennium had been completed without a hitch… almost.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’
That wasn’t the grunt of a servitor. Zelia turned to see a hooded serf hurrying through the drizzle, an acid-proof data-slate in hand.
She jumped onto the grav-cart, the slab bucking beneath her weight. ‘It’s now or never.’
The Martian was on his hands and knees beside her, his haptic implants thrust into the inner workings of the hover-sled.
‘Get off that thing,’ the serf snapped, steam rising from her protective clothing.
‘Mekki…’ Zelia hissed.
‘Almost there,’ the Martian replied.
‘Almost isn’t good enough.’
The serf was upon them now, a hand already on the cart’s handle. ‘I said, get off.’
‘We just need to borrow it,’ Zelia said, trying to buy Mekki time.
The serf frowned. ‘Borrow it for what?’
‘This!’ Mekki exclaimed, activating the anti-grav.
The cart shot up into the air, the serf still clinging to the handle. The slab lurched under the weight of three passengers, but righted itself as the shocked serf let go, tumbling back to the ground with a cry.
Zelia winced at the soft crump of the serf hitting the walkway and hoped that she wasn’t too hurt, but for now had to concentrate on their own safety. She grabbed the handle to stop herself being thrown from the cart. Mekki was still on his hands and knees, fingers jabbed into the stabiliser control as they shot up the side of the towering spire.
‘How high do we have to go?’ he asked.
Keeping hold, Zelia glanced up at the loading platform she’d spotted earlier. ‘About five or six storeys.’
The cart shuddered.
‘Will it get us all the way up there?’
Mekki checked the access panel. ‘The suspensors are burning out.’
She looked up. A maglev train was speeding past the tower, just below the platform. ‘We haven’t far to go.’
‘Attempting to maintain power,’ Mekki told her – or maybe even himself – as he fiddled with the suspension field.
They sped up, Zelia whooping with nerves and adrenaline. The cart shot past the train but flipped over in mid-air, the suspensors finally overloading.
Zelia and Mekki cried out as they tumbled from the slab to land on the speeding train. Zelia scrabbled for a handhold as she rolled perilously close to the edge. Her fingers closed around a handle and she jolted to a halt, her legs dangling over the side. She pulled herself back onto the top, looking up to see Mekki trying to get to his feet on the next carriage. He’d made it too. He was safe.
For now, at least.
The train wasn’t slowing. Soon it would be past the tower, continuing on its way to Throne-knew-where. She broke into a run, leaping to the next carriage, not stopping as Mekki joined her in racing towards the back of the train. She had no idea what they were going to do when they reached the platform. Launch themselves at the building? The landing pad was still above their heads and the rain was coming down harder than ever, stinging their skin as they tried not to slip.
Mekki shouted something, but she couldn’t hear him above the thundering engine. She followed his gaze to see an open-top flyer shooting up from the streets below. If it stayed on its trajectory it would rocket up past them, and – more importantly – past the landing pad.
Was Mekki seriously suggesting they leap from a speeding train to land on a near-vertical air-skimmer? That was almost as crazy as riding a power-boosted grav-cart up the side of a tower, probably more so. Still, he was racing towards the edge, his tattered robes heavy with acid rain. Fumbling the omniscope back into her bandolier she matched the Martian step for step. She was trusting him on this. Mekki’s mind rivalled any cogitator. If anyone could calculate the jump it would be him… she hoped.
The flyer climbed, the train thundered forward and the children ran, swerving towards the edge of the carriage at the last moment.
Zelia didn’t know if she screamed as she leapt into the air, her arms pinwheeling, but she definitely cried out as they landed with a thud in the back of the skimmer. The pod shuddered, and the driver glanced back to see what had hit him. His eyes widened when he saw two children in his hold, Mekki hanging over the edge of the grav-car to check their position.
‘We are over the platform,’ he shouted, just as the driver banked hard. Zelia tried to grab hold of the seat as she was pitched out of the flyer. She plummeted down, throwing out an arm as she dropped past the landing pad. She jolted to a halt, dangling in mid-air. Mekki had grabbed the rail on the edge of the platform, his good arm taking the strain, exo-frame creaking as he held onto her with his other hand. Sparks were already flying from the frame’s creaking servos.
‘Climb up me,’ he hissed through clenched teeth and she nodded, using the frame to pull herself up. Mekki’s entire body was shaking as she reached the rail, swinging her leg onto the platform. She rolled onto the pad, twisting around to grab Mekki before his arm gave way. Crying out with the effort, she yanked him over the edge.
They lay on their backs, breathing heavily in their masks, bodies aching and minds spinning. If either of them had fallen…
No. They couldn’t think like that. Not now. Not with caustic rain drenching their already raw skin.
Mekki struggled up, his weak arm hanging uselessly at his side. The frame wasn’t working, the servos jammed. He limped over to the doors but couldn’t raise his haptic implants to the access point. Zelia did it for him, the frame’s metal joints squeaking as she lifted his arm.
‘A little higher,’ he said, before his fingers found the connectors and his electoos flashed. The door slid open and they tumbled into a thankfully empty loading bay.
Zelia dropped to her knees as the door crashed down behind them again. She pushed the rebreather aside, gulping in the tower’s recycled air.
She looked up at Mekki, who shook his head at her, before starting to laugh. She joined in and before long they were almost hysterical, clutching their sides, their laughs echoing around the deserted bay. Zelia had never heard Mekki laugh so long and so hard. It was a good sound.
But they had to keep moving. There was no telling when someone might walk into the storage bay, or a skimmer might land on the platform outside. She forced herself to breathe deeply. Mekki had sat up, tears streaming down his scalded face. He probed the exo-frame, his arm still hanging lifelessly.
‘Can you fix it?’ Zelia said, wiping her eye and wincing. Her skin felt like it was on fire, her clothes full of holes.
He shook his head. ‘Not here, but it should not be difficult with the right tools.’
She helped him up. ‘Like the tools on the Profiteer?’
He nodded, walking cautiously to double doors that led to a maze of corridors. ‘First of all we need to find the transmitter array.’
‘Or a cogitator connected to it.’
He flashed her a smile. ‘Now you are starting to think like me, Zelia Lor.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she said, activating the controls.
The doors slid open.