One Between the Stars

Chapter 23

 Carson could kick himself for being so stupid. Of course, looking back, he could see clearly where he went wrong, but when it was happening, everything seemed perfectly reasonable.

A while after Ionia and Arthre had left to find a public port, Carson left the ship in the hands of the repair crew, making sure they got the point that if they did anything more than repair the damages - like upgrading the system or even waxing the finish, he would refuse to pay for it. And with one last tentative glance at the Evie, he shouldered his backpack and went out into the city to find that gang.

They had given an address to meet at, but Carson couldn't be sure that was their headquarters, or anything near it. Likely, it was an abandoned building or a random shop, somewhere discreet. Carson left his solar sword on the ship, swapping for a less obvious weapon; a small handgun that he kept tucked into the inside of his jacket.

As he wandered through the streets, keeping one eye on the signs, he couldn't help but get distracted by the people. This city, he knew, was a republic, led by the Borg Counsel, a group of rich engineers and factory owners who mostly passed laws to help themselves and other members of the higher class. The result was a stark contrast between the higher and lower class that was as evident as the cybernetic transplants on the bodies of the residents. He could tell when he started venturing into the less wealthy districts, as the buildings became shabbier, the signs more rickety, the streets unkempt and littered with graffiti and trash.

The people in particular were evidence of this wealth clash; here they didn't have the gleaming updated cyborg parts that upper members had. Their machine parts were riddled with rust and creaked as they walked. Growing children winced at the too-small parts that they had obviously outgrown but were too poor to pay for updates.

Carson drew his jacket tighter around himself, sliding one hand around his gun as he encountered these people, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. That was never a good sign.

Soon he came to the address he'd been given, and it looked much like Carson expected it to; an old warehouse that used to store what the signs depicted as some kind of storage drive. Carson went around the back, where his message said there would be an unlocked door. He entered, still keeping one hand on his gun.

The whole place had been hollowed out like some giant shell, the walls stripped of machinery and the carpet ripped up from the floor. Dust flew in Carson's wake, tickling his nose, dancing in the grey light that filtered through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The silence in the place was deafening, like someone had just stuffed cotton in his ears. His eyes scanned every corner, but no one was there.

Then suddenly there was a faint pop, a spark went off in one corner, and just as Carson's attention was diverted, the windows exploded inward. Glass rained down as he hit the floor, covering his head. The room filled with a loud static noise, he smelled copper, and when he opened his eyes again the room was silent once more.

He sat up, dusted himself off, looked around the room, his head racing. Then, just near the shattered windows, the wall shifted, as if it were melting. Two figures detached themselves from the stone, and their colors shifted until two people, a girl and a boy, were before Carson. Carson's brain couldn't work out their ages, other than being relatively young, because their features weren't mundane. They seemed to have skin made of almost every material at once; stone, glass, metal, even neon lights where teeth should have shone when they smiled.

"Hello," Carson breathed, still in shock.

The two just stared at him and smiled with those brightened teeth.

"Are you with the Haloes?"

The boy looked to the girl, as if remarking on something interesting and perhaps a bit amusing. She glanced at him with a smile and turned to Carson, then gestured at him.