The Slip: The Complete First Season Read online

  Chao-xing yanked Guan-yin's arm behind her back with a swift snapping motion and led her through the door and into the docking bay.

  “Fuck it,” said Chao-xing. “We need to stop this now. Open the airlock.”

  Guan-yin laughed. “There are five of us committed to this plan - you're making a mistake if you think killing me will make a difference.”

  Armand pushed the button to open the first airlock door as Chao-xing shoved Guan-yin inside.

  “Then I'll kill you all,” growled Chao-xing. She pushed the button to close the inner seal, releasing Guan-yin into the cold vacuum of space.

  There was a muffled banging through the airlock door. Then silence.

  “It’s done,” she said.

  “I’m going to reactivate my implants,” Chao-xing said. “If the family want to continue to snub me, that’s up to them. I know what I need to do, but I’ll need you turn off the Occulto’s signal shields.”

  “What are you going to do?” Armand asked.

  “We’ve got access to a Yao orbiter. I think it’s time we used it.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I’m going to kill them,” she said. “I’m going to kill them all.

  Armand nodded. “Promise me you won’t let the implants change you.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered.

  Phobos Mobius, Mars

  Armand led the way through the smooth corridor as subtle undulations of light pulsated along the walls around them. Chao-xing stopped.

  “What is it?” asked Armand.

  “I’m just thinking. I’m not sure how to reactivate my implants. I don't even know how to get to any useful areas of the station.”

  “You’re right,” he nodded. “There was a door along here that gaped from nothing.”

  She looked back at him, raising her right hand to the wall and groping along its surface. She walked, following the gentle curve of the inner-wall, seeking something, anything to grip, to press, to manipulate. Electricity tingled around her body.

  “You okay?”

  “Just nerves,” she said.

  All at once, she jerked her hand back and stumbled as the wall dipped inwards, like pushing against the surface tension of thick liquid. With caution, she touched the wall again and ripples moved along its surface. “Feel this,” she whispered, taking his hand and pressing it against the wall.

  “It’s completely solid,” he said, confused.

  Chao-xing smiled. She reached into the wall, making a large circle with her extended arm until the wall yawned open. “We’re in.”

  She held the wall open as Armand ducked his head and stepped through, following as the wall closed behind them. Power surged through her body, collapsing to her her knees as the Knowledge flooded into her mind, overtaking her thoughts, overwhelming her being. Waves of data, images, memories, and pure light grabbed hold of her, pressing against her mind, expanding it beyond its shell. Convulsing, she pissed herself as blue sparks fizzed over her skin.

  “Chao-xing, can you hear me?” Armand’s voice was faint.

  She grabbed at her head for a final moment before sagging unconscious to the floor.

  Shivering, Chao-xing opened her eyes, cold sweat soaking her clothes and body. The floor pulsated beneath her, warm and glowing in yellows and whites. Shallow breaths shuddered from her lungs.

  “Are you okay?” Armand asked.

  “W-what happened?” She lifted her head weakly and looked around, squinting.

  “Just stay still. Here.” He held a water bottle up to her lips.

  “What happened?” she asked, pushing the bottle aside.

  “I don’t know. I think you overloaded yourself.”

  She grunted, forcing herself to a sitting position. A triumphant grin passed over her face. “It worked,” she whispered.

  “What did?” Armand asked.

  “Everything.”

  Wobbling to her feet, she glanced at her hands and along her arms, as if seeing it for the first time. With a swooping gesture, she increased the brightness of the station’s light and smiled.

  “That’s amazing,” he said.

  “It’s going to take me a while to get used to it again, but the first thing I need to do is make myself undetectable on the network. If the others are aware of me...” She shook her head. “It might already be too late.”

  She sat cross-legged on the floor as she hid her presence from the other Yaos.

  “It’s crazy seeing you like this. All those colours dancing before your eyes—”

  “Quiet,” she snapped, her eyes locked in a trance. “Yes. Yes, I see it now,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Quiet,” she snapped again, collating the information. After several minutes, she turned to Armand. “I’ve found them all. I've located the rest of the Yao.”

  “Now what?”

  Chao-xing rose to her feet. “I will send a programme to all the mining drones that happen to be near to a Yao. The implants mean the Yao can easily be found by other members on the network. They’re scattered across the Union.” She scratched her head. “Yes, this will definitely work.”

  “Sorry, I’m lost. What’s the plan here?”

  She turned on Armand with a savage glare but caught herself before their eyes met. She took a deep breath. “The plan is to put all nearby mining drones on a path to kill each family member, no matter where they are. If there’s a Yao somewhere, you can guarantee a mining drone won’t be too far away..”

  “Won’t it be obvious it’s you, though?”

  “Perhaps,” she shrugged. “But if this works there won’t be anyone to tell. I’ll make sure there’s a self-destruct line in the code.”

  “When will—”

  “It’s sent,” Chao-xing said. “It’s done.”

  Episode 2: The Boeki traders

  V5 Orbiter, Venus

  The woman's body lay within the shadow of a blood-stained shipping container. Her face was smooth, her ancient eyes fixed with a serene expression. A spike of black hair shot up from the centre of her shaved head. Blood seeped through her red silk tunic. A deep wound tore through her chest — a fist sized hole, glistening bright red beneath the flickering daylight lamps.

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

  “You think that thing’s safe?” He gestured to a mining drone standing mantis-like next to the body, looking up at its up its blood-encrusted drill.

  Ifan stepped towards the drone with slow, careful steps, his brow creasing as he cupped a hand around his nose and mouth. He rolled his broad shoulders, squinting as he leaned forward to examine the drone. “Something’s definitely burnt out,” he said, brushing a strand of thin grey hair from his eyes.

  “What should we do?”

  “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 and nodded at the drone. “We can’t leave it like this.”

  “I think she’s a Yao,” said Garrett, crouching next to the body, taking care not step in the pool of blood. “Who would do something like this?”

  “It could be anyone.” Ifan knelt beside Garrett, placing a hand on his shoulder and tilting his head to examine the woman's face. “This isn’t just any Yao — this is the Yao.”

  “What are we going to do?” Garrett asked, looking at the ceiling. He sat on a chair to Ifan's right, tapping on the table and frowning at the two empty chairs opposite.

  “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 in the stiff wooden seat.

  The holding room was bright and clean, with light blue walls and a thick locked door. A lemony aroma drifted by as the air ducts hummed and hissed. Garrett poured a cup of water from a glass carafe. “This is ridiculous,” he said, squinting at the glare of the single daylight lamp above. “They don't have the right
to hold us here.”

  “Trust me, they do,” Ifan said. “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.” He sipped his water and turned to Garrett. “We're on V5 — there are many places I'd rather be. We've got pure water and this is real wood.” He knocked on the table. “Believe me, things could be much worse.”

  Garrett sighed. “I know, it just doesn't seem fair.”

  Ifan cleared his throat. “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 nodded. “You're right, I'm just bored of waiting.”

  The door clicked and swung open. Garrett and Ifan got to their feet as a pair of customs agents entered the room, closing the door behind them.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” the first agent said. She was tall with thick black hair and a face that reminded Garrett of a cow. “My name is Peedor Adamine and this is my partner Olivor Meck. Please sit down.”

  Olivor stood a head shorter than Peedor, with thin blond hair and sharp blue eyes. His uniform was a shade darker than his eyes and drooped from his shoulders like melted wax.

  Garrett sat back in his chair and Ifan remained standing. “My name is Ifan Walbeoff and this is my apprentice Garrett Priddy. We're Boeki—”

  “Yes, yes, we're aware of who you are,” snapped Olivor, waving a hand.

  “Then let's get down to business — we're all friends here. How can we help?”

  The customs agents scraped their seats back from under the table. Olivor sat across from Ifan and Peedor sat opposite Garrett.

  “We understand you were the first ones at the scene,” Peedor said. “Please tell us as much as you can about where you were and what you saw.”

  Ifan scratched the back of his head. “We arrived this morning. All seemed in order. Just our usual run.”

  “And what's your usual run? Please enlighten us Mr Walbeoff,” Olivor asked.

  “We tend to do Mars, Lunar, Venus, back to Lunar,” Ifan shrugged. “It should all be in our documents.”

  “And why were you on V5?” Olivor asked.

  “As noted, V5 is always our first stop around Venus. As you'll be able to see from our documents, we have a selection of Martian teas, beef cuts, leather goods and cheeses for the V5 market.”

  Garrett caught the slight clenching of Ifan's jaw.

  “And what about you?”Olivor asked, turning to Garrett.

  “What about me, what?”

  “Why were you on V5? What were you selling?”

  “I—”

  “Is this really necessary?” Ifan asked, interrupting. “As noted previously, Garrett is my apprentice, fully registered with the Boeki. I don't see how these questions are relevant.”

  “Please don't be obstructive Mr Walbeoff,” Olivor said. “Mr Priddy, in your own words, please tell me why you are on V5.”

  “Ifan's already said, I'm his apprentice. I just help out, learn things.” Garrett shrugged. “I'm not really sure what you want me to say.”

  “That's okay,” Peedor said. She smiled to Garrett and signalled with her hand to Olivor. “I'm sure all your documentation is in order. Please tell us about what you saw at the scene.”

  Ifan nodded. “Some of your market people were unloading our goods when I found the body next to a miner. We went over to look and it was a right mess — blood everywhere. The drone was caked in blood, so figured it must have been the drone that killed her. I had a look around and realised it was Yao Huizhong. That's when I sent Garrett to find a customs agent.”

  “And how did you know it was Yao Huizhong? It strikes me as a little odd that you'd be able to recognise a corpse on a platform that isn't even your home.”

  Ifan laughed. “Is that a serious question? It's Yao Huizhong.”

  Olivor frowned. “Okay, so what else?”

  Ifan shook his head. “I don't know.”

  “The drone was burnt out,” Garrett said, turning to Ifan. “You looked at the motor and said it must have burnt out after...” His voice trailed off.

  “You're right,” Ifan said. “It looked to me like some kind of remote self-destruct programme. It's the only way it could have been done.”

  “And you're an expert at programming drones for murder?”

  Ifan shrugged. “I just found the body. It's nothing to do with either of us.”

  “Is there anything else if you need to add?” Peedor asked.

  Garrett shook his head.

  “If there is, we'll let you know,” said Ifan. “Is that everything?”

  “That's great. You've been very helpful, thank you,” said Peedor, getting up from her seat. “We'll send this to the Judiciary now, and we'll see where we go from there.”

  “Excellent,” said Ifan, pushing himself to his feet.

  “Please stay seated, Mr Walbeoff,” said Olivor.

  Ifan hesitated then slunk back to his seat. “I thought you were done?”

  “We are, but until we hear back from the Judiciary, you'll have to remain here,” Peedor said.

  “You can't keep us prisoner like this,” Ifan said. “We're Affiliates.”

  “We can and—” Olivor began before Peedor signalled for him to stop.

  “You're not being imprisoned, we're just holding you until we get word from the Judiciary,” she said. “Don't worry. This is just a formality.”

  “And where are we going to go if you do release us? Until we get some fuel, we can't leave the platform. I give you my word that we won't leave until you've received word from the Judiciary.”

  Olivor reached to the stunner on his belt. “Please don't make demands on United Solar officials, Mr Walbeoff. We have our processes to follow.”

  The customs agents turned and left the holding room, locking the door behind them.

  “Now what?” Garrett asked.

  Ifan shrugged. “We wait.”

  The holding cell door clicked and swung open when Olivor and Peedor returned.

  Garrett sat on the floor, leaning with his back against the wall while Ifan rocked on two legs of his chair with his feet on the table. Garrett stood to his feet.

  “The situation has developed,” Peedor began, closing the door. “Please sit.”

  Olivor glared at Ifan. “Get your feet off there.”

  Ifan sighed and turned to Garrett. “One thing you need to remember about being a trader is to talk to people respectfully. You never know where and when you'll run into them again.”

  “Is that a threat, Mr Walbeoff? Are you threatening a United Solar official?”

  “Not at all.” Ifan slid his feet from the table, smiling. “Garrett's my apprentice. Practical lessons are important.” He leaned back and stretched his arms above his head, ignoring Olivor's glare.

  Peedor cleared her throat. “We've heard word back from the Judiciary that this was not the only incident of this kind. According to reports, the entire Yao family has been killed.”

  Garrett's eyes widened.

  “All of them?” Ifan stared at his hands and shook his head. “That's madness.”

  “We're really sorry, but we're going to have to keep you in a holding room until we get word back from the Judiciary,” she said.

  “I thought you'd already got word?”

  “ United Solar are going to announce an official investigator, so it will be the investigator who has the say as to when you can leave. I really am very sorry.”

  Ifan sighed. “Any idea how long this is going to take? Can we at least get moved to somewhere with bunks, and can we get some food?”

  Peedor nodded. “That's fine. We'll sort out some cots.”

  The customs agents got up and left the cell, locking the door behind them.

  “This could be really bad,” Ifan said.

  “Bad how?”

  “It's too early to say, but I think fuel's going to be hit if the
Yao's are gone. There are going to be some bad times ahead.”

  Garrett awoke first as the daylight lamp flickered to life. A customs agent he did not recognise shuffled into the cell. Short grey hair stood in wispy curls around a bald patch, his claw-like hand resting on the black stunner at his belt. “Wake up, you two,” he said through a yawn. “We've had communication from Lunar.”

  Garrett sat up, streching as Ifan rolled over. He caught the lingering smell of tomato soup from their empty bowls resting on the table . “Ifan,” he said. “Get up.”

  “Wha—” Ifan turned back over and opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “It's early, it's late — depends on who's asking,” the customs agent said. “We've had a message from the Judiciary. Do you have anything to add your previous statement?”

  Garrett shook his head. “No,” he said.

  “Nothing,” Ifan said, sitting stiff on the rolled-out bed-mat.

  “Then thank you for your cooperation and patience. You're free to go.”

  Garrett raised his eyebrows. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  Ifan got to his feet and brushed the creases from his coveralls. “Fantastic,” he said. “It's about damn time.”

  “What do you mean, there's no fuel?” Ifan said, leaning into the bright orange Yao fuel booth. The docking area was two-kilometres-long and one-kilometre-wide. Its ceiling swooped in a long shallow curve that was crossed with steel beams and punctuated with daylight lamps shining at full brightness.

  “There's no fuel,” the woman at the window said flatly.

  “Tell her we're Boeki,” Garrett said.

  “I've already told her we're Affiliates.”

  The woman slammed the window shut.

  “Now what? “ Garrett asked.

  Ifan turned and shrugged. “I don't know. I think we need to get a message to the Boeki, let them know what's happening. At least we sold our stock before all this started.” He gestured to the queues of V5 residents waiting in their finery.

  Small children ducked and ran between the queuing adults as vendors selling steaming hot food hawked their wares. Garrett breathed deeply at the scent of cooked beef and frying onion. He could just make out the top of their trading ship idle at the far end of the dock.