As the Gravity Flipped Read online

  As the Gravity Flipped

  by Herschel K. Stroganoff

  # # #

  Prologue

  Chao-xing: Titan Orbiter, Saturn

  03/11/6,541, 15:23 (IST)

  The stairwell groaned as Chao-xing ducked beneath the trio of torch beams slicing through the darkness. Bursting through a thick black door, she turned and sprinted into the chicken farms.

  Blue and silver cages loomed in the dark as wings flapped and feathers flew. The ceiling was low and mapped with exposed pipes and wires, hissing and humming against the ubiquitous creaking and yawning station. Blue halos were spaced at ten-metre intervals, shining down their cold light in circles long the bare steel walkway.

  Disorientated by the squawks, the rattle of wings against steel, and the stench of chicken shit, she ran. She had been careless, but it was worth it for what she had stolen. Her dark eyes darted back with panic as bright torch beams pierced the half-light behind. Her pursuers were gaining.

  Making a sharp right, she raced past the birds as they reached out to her - to claw, to peck, to scratch - their calls increasing in violence. She feared they would betray her location.

  A farmer flashed her a sharp glare as she tripped over a basket. Eggs scattered across the floor as she stumbled to maintain her balance.

  She turned a sharp left as a stitch took hold in her chest and the muscles in her legs burned. The farmer called out to her pursuers, but she couldn't make out the words above the sound of the birds.

  The uniform lines of muted blue lights flickered above as she searched for somewhere to hide. Sweat poured down her forehead, her hair a matt of jet-black. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her coveralls.

  Pinning her body against the side of a cage, Chao-xing strained to listen through the noise for the sound of footsteps. She held her breath as her pursuers passed along a parallel row of cages. She breathed out with relief as the torch beams faded.

  Crouching low, she crept past the farmer. She returned to the door and sighed with relief as she backed her way through the door, catching fleeting glimpses of torchlight in the distance as she looked back across the farm.

  The door closed behind her as she felt a hard blow strike the back of her head. Everything faded as she collapsed to the ground.

  # # #

  A sharp slap to the face brought Chao-xing back to consciousness.

  Straining against the binds holding her wrists behind her back, she shook her head to push away the blindfold. It was useless.

  She winced as tape was ripped from her mouth, pulling out the tiny hairs from her upper-lip.

  "What do you know about the slip?" a man asked in a growled whisper.

  Chao-xing did not answer. She told herself to stay silent. The man paced before her while she braced herself for another slap. Instead, his stubble scraped against her swelling cheek. His breath was a foul mix of onion and bitter cider.

  "What do you know about the slip?" he asked again.

  There was a whispered exchange between at least two others. Sitting motionless, she kept her jaw clenched, focusing on the low whistle of the air ducts behind her. She flinched as another man stepped toward her.

  "You will tell us about the Purdah," said the second voice Chao-xing's head snapped right as he slapped her hard across the cheek.

  "Again, you are Purdah. Do not think we do not know who you are. What do you want with the Yao file? We know you have them." He spoke with a cold, detached tone; a flat soulless hum.

  Chao-xing shuddered. "I know nothing of the slip, I know nothing of the Purdah, and I know nothing about the files." She regretted opening her mouth. A pulse pounded inside her skull.

  "This is good," said a third man in a jovial tone. This man scared her.

  "You can talk, which means you will talk," he said, his breath warm against Chao-xing's face. "We can drop the lies and tell us who you, what you have taken and where it is now."

  "I--," she gasped, "I'm a trader. Independent. I don't know who you think I am, but I am not that person. Please believe me. Please let me go." She hated herself. She wanted to be strong, to stay silent, but instead she was pleading.

  The third man laughed - a loud, obnoxious belly laugh he cut short with an abruptness that made Chao-xing tremble. "Don't fucking lie to us," he hissed. "Why did you run? Why run if you've got nothing to hide?"

  "I was scared. I panicked," she whispered. It was true.

  "We shall begin over," the second man said.

  Something metallic was dragged toward her. Liquid splashed onto the floor as it came to a halt. One of the men tipped her chair back, flooding the darkness with a bright purple and white flash behind her eyes as her head bounced off the floor. Something cold and dripping with water was placed over her face. She gasped as one of the men closed the around her mouth and nose.

  Gulping for breath, she tried to cry out as one of the men clamped her head still with his knees, vice-like. Ice-cold water drenched her face. The cloth clung even tighter; suffocating her, drowning her. She wanted to call out, she wanted to scream.

  "Please," she sobbed, her voice muffled by the cloth. "Please." She gasped for breath as the man tore the cloth from her face. She gagged and gulped and coughed, snot dripping from her nose, tears filling her eyes.

  "You will tell us about the slip," insisted the second man.

  "I don't know what you--."

  The cloth covered her face again. The cold water enveloped her. She tried to thrash and claw free as the pressure pushed down on her lungs, but the binds were tight.

  The man lifted the cloth. She coughed. It was a painful cough, a cough that tore at her throat and burnt her lungs.

  "Okay, okay," she spluttered. "I don't know much, I was trying to find out, but--." Her body shook with a violent, involuntary seizure.

  "Go on," whispered the first man when Chao-xing stopped shaking.

  "There's something, I don't know, not right with Lunar Band, it doesn't make sense. It's something to do with that," she said. "I wanted to find out." Water dripped down around her neck and soaked into her coveralls,

  "And?"

  Chao-xing sniffed. "And what? That's all I've got."

  "You will tell us more," said the second man.

  She shuddered as the wet cloth enclosed her face again, crushing her nose and blocking her airways. She kicked and thrashed against her binds as she strained to push herself free. Snot bubbled from her nostrils and her head thumped from within.

  "You will tell us what you were doing in the archives." the second man said, pulling the cloth from her face.

  There was a loud crash from behind, then a series of dull thuds and pained grunts. Someone tore off her blindfold. She squinted up at the dim blue light as her rescuer unbound her arms and legs. A trio of masked men lay unconscious on the floor around her.

  "I knew you'd come," she whispered.

  # # #

  Part One: The Yao Dynasty

  Chapter One

  Hayao: Kurosawa household, Insularum 3, Lunar

  07/06/6,544, 13:17 (IST)

  Children laughed as they chased each other, darting and weaving between the legs of the grown-ups as they played, their excited squeals drowning out the party music. Hayao Kurosawa crouched on one knee and smiled as his daughter Riko tore the brightly coloured wrapping from her birthday present. He turned to his wife Natsuki as she stood behind them, looking down she sipped from a teacup. She was lean and wore a high-collared yellow tunic.

  Riko was sitting on the floor, her legs outstretched, kicking with excitement. "It's a. It's a--." Riko frowned. "What is it Daddy?"

  Hayao laughed and lay down on his side next to Riko, resting on an elbow as he leaned on his left
hand.. "It's a Muedin centre," he said, gesturing to the white and blue dome, almost as tall as Riko. He picked up one of the tiny wooden figures. "This is a medic. They help you feel better if you get sick."

  Riko took the figure from his hand. "I am calling her." She paused, making a show of thinking, squeezing her eyes closed and placing a finger to her lips. "Dangy."

  Hayao chucked. "Dangy's a great name," he said. He picked up a robotic figure made from twists of metal tubing. "This is a surgery drone. These fix your arms and legs, or go into your tummy if you're very, very sick."

  Riko squinted, regarding the drone with careful consideration. "I will call that one Dangy too."

  Hayao laughed.

  "Why don't you pick a different name, Riko?" Natsuki said.

  Riko looked up at her mother and scowled. "I said this name is Dangy, I said."

  "But don't you want to give them different names?"

  "I wouldn't try reasoning with a three-year-old," Hayao said. "It's her birthday, if she wants to call them both Dangy, then she can."

  Riko smiled. "This one's Dangy and this one's Dangy too," she said with delight.

  "Okay," Natsuki said with mock resignation.

  "This is a Muedin capsule," Hayao said, picking up the egg-shaped vehicle. "This is what people travel in when they are too sick to get to a Muedin centre. Is this one called Dangy too?"

  Riko took the capsule and rotated in her hand. "No. I will call this one Muedin capsule, Daddy."

  Hayao laughed and rose to his feet and stepped over to Natsuki.

  "I can't believe she's three already," said Natsuki with folded arms. "It doesn't seem like five minutes since she was born."

  "I know," said Hayao, reaching to a shelf behind Natsuki to retrieve his teacup. "Time slips away far too quickly."

  Riko crawled along the floor, making whooshing noises as she pretended the Muedin capsule could fly.

  Hayao sniffed at his tea and smiled at Natsuki. "What do you think of this new blend?"

  "It's pretty good," Natsuki said. "You always buy the most expensive teas."

  "It's my only indulgence," said Hayao. "Mars has always produced the best tea."

  There came a knock at the door. "I'll get that," Hayao said. He placed his cup back onto the shelf behind Natsuki.

  He crossed his reception room, taking care not to tread on Riko's new toys, then opened the door to two United Solar security officers wearing dark blue uniforms.

  "Can I help you?" Hayao said.

  "Mister Vice Secretary, please forgive the intrusion," the taller officer said. "All members of the Solar Assembly have been summoned to the chamber for an emergency session."

  Hayao furrowed his brow. "When?"

  "Now, Mister Vice Secretary."

  Hayao drew in a long breath. "I will need to change," he said, gesturing to his colourful party shirt.

  "Be quick," the officer said. "We have a capsule waiting for you."

  "Thank you," Hayao said, closing the door. He turned to Natsuki who was standing behind him. "I take it you heard that?" he said.

  "It's Riko's birthday," Natsuki said. "Can't Takeshi attend for once?"

  Hayao held his hands out in a helpless gesture. "It's an emergency, I don't want to do this, but I have a duty. You know that." He kissed Natsuki as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I should be back before Riko's bedtime."

  "What are you doing, Daddy?" Riko asked as she pulled at Hayao's trouser leg.

  He knelt to her level and placed a hand on her back. "Daddy needs to go to work for a little while, but I promise I will be back as soon as I can."

  Riko frowned. "But I want you to stay here with me and Mommy and Grandpa and, and--." She shuddered then let out a long wail.

  Hayao wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "Hey," he whispered, his chin resting on her shoulder. "It's okay. I'll come back and we can play with Dangy. Does that sound good?"

  "But--," she choked down a sob. "I want you to play now." She jerked out her breaths as tears soaked her face.

  Hayao brushed her face with his sleeve and signalled for Natsuki to take over.

  # # #

  Garrett: Docking Bay, V5 Orbiter, Venus

  06/06/6,544, 21:44 (IST)

  The woman's body lay beside a rusted shipping container, draped in shadows and soaked with blood. Her ancient eyes were fixed with a serene expression. Her head was shaved bald save for a spike of black hair. Blood seeped through her red silk tunic. A fist-sized wound punctured her chest.

  Cold sweat gathered on Garrett Priddy's forehead as his mentor Ifan Walbeoff surveyed the mess.

  Turning his gaze from the body, Garrett started at the sight of mining drone standing mantis-like to his right. Half-obscured by the shipping container, the drone stood two and a half metres tall with three mechanical legs. Its body was cylindrical, metallic, seamless. A metre-long diamond-edged tungsten drill-bit extended from its middle. The machine was still, caked in half-dried blood.

  "You think that thing's safe?" Garrett said, gesturing to the drone.

  Ifan stepped towards the drone with slow, careful steps. His brow creased as he cupped a hand around his nose and mouth. He had broad shoulders and thin grey hair. He squinted as he leaned to examine the drone. "Something's definitely burnt out," he said with the same detached tone he adopted when inspecting any other piece of machinery.

  "What should we do?" asked Garrett. He was the shortest and youngest of the pair, an apprentice trader of the Boeki Affiliate. The cargo dock was a functional construction of steel beams and bare concrete. Daylight lamps curved across the ceiling as the smell of burnt flesh and ship fuel hung thick in the air. Customs agents were unloading and inspecting the traders' shipment of luxury goods: leather, wood, pepper, cotton, coffee, teas, dried fruit, refined sugar.

  "There's part of me saying we should just get back to the ship and leave it to someone on the station to deal with, but," Ifan sighed, signalling towards the drone, "we can't leave it like this."

  "I think she's a Yao," said Garrett as he crouched half a metre from the body, keeping his feet away from the pooling blood.

  Ifan knelt beside Garrett, his knees stiff with the increased gravity. "This isn't just any Yao," said Ifan. "This is the Yao."

  # # #

  Hayao: Capsule Line, Insularum 3, Lunar

  07/06/6,544, 13:51 (IST)

  Hayao ducked his head as the door hissed closed behind him. He sat between security officers on a bench curved along the capsule's wall, reflections from the daylight lamps rippling across its white surface. He leaned back as the capsule set off on its journey through Lunar's subterranean tunnels.

  Hayao wore a black jacket and trousers with a high-collared white shirt. He turned to the officer at his right and smiled. She was broad and staring straight ahead. Hayao tapped her arm. "Can you shed any more light on why I've been called?"

  "Mister Vice Secretary, I'm afraid I do not have that information," she said.

  "It's most likely relating to the situation with Yao Chin, Mister Vice Secretary," the officer to Hayao's left said.

  He met her gaze with a furrowed brow. "Forgive my ignorance," Hayao said. "I have been celebrating my daughter's birthday. I have not yet been briefed."

  "Yao Chin's body was found on L5, Mister Vice Secretary."

  Hayao blinked. "Are you absolutely sure?"

  "Yes, Mister Vice Secretary," she said.

  "What happened?"

  "We're not sure at this point. First reports suggest she was killed by a mining drone."

  Hayao gave a hunted look as his body rocked with the motion of the capsule. "Do we know if was an accident?"

  "Not at this point, Mister Vice Secretary."

  "This will be the first Yao death, certainly in our lifetime," he said as the humming capsule screeched to a halt beneath United Solar's headquarters.

  # # #

  Garrett: Customs House, V5 Orbiter, Venus

  07/06/6,544, 01:12 (IST)

/>   "What are we going to do?" Garrett asked. He was sitting on a chair to Ifan's right. He traced the lines of wood grain along the tabletop, stopping occasionally to tap at dark knots of wood.

  "It's just procedure, I'm sure the customs people will ask us about the body and then we'll be on our way," Ifan said, leaning back against the stiff wooden seat.

  The holding room was bright and airy, with light blue walls and a thick locked door. The smell of lemons drifted by as the air ducts hissed above.

  Garrett poured a cup of water from a glass carafe. "This is ridiculous," he said, squinting at the single daylight lamp above. "They don't have the right to hold us here."

  "Trust me, they do," Ifan said, staring at the ceiling. "It's not convenient, but if I've learned anything over the years, it's that you need to keep customs sweet. Nod, smile, cooperate - don't make things worse than they need be." He sipped his water and turned to Garrett. "We've on V5 - there are many places I'd rather be, but at least we're not being held on one of the Hermes platforms, or Titan, or one of the Kuiper stations. We've got pure water and this is real wood." He tapped on the tabletop and smiled. "Believe me, things could be much worse."

  Garrett gave a tut. "I know, it just doesn't seem fair." He frowned at the pair of empty seats opposite.

  Ifan scratched his chin. "Think of it this way. How would you feel if one the Boeki was killed, probably murdered? You'd hope whoever was investigating the death would speak to everyone who might know something useful."

  Garrett dipped his gaze. "You're right, I'm just bored with waiting."

  The door clicked open. Garrett and Ifan stood as a pair of customs agents entered, closing the door behind them.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting," the first agent said. She was tall with thick black hair. "My name is Peedor Adamine, and this is my partner Olivor Meck. Please sit down."

  Olivor was a head shorter that Peedor, with blond hair and sharp blue eyes. He wore the same ill-fitting blue uniform of all customs agents.