Pulse

Chapter 14 - Alma

Marco Bautista placed his right hand on the dNeedle reader outside the Blade Complex's ALMA unit HOST chamber. The panel lit up green, confirming his identity, and two enormous entrance doors slowly opened revealing the large hall beyond.

Kalen and Grace peered into the gloom, a little surprised at how empty the chamber was compared to the opulence on display elsewhere inside the Blade. The air here was even thicker than before. It was hard to see more than ten yards ahead. All they could make out were the silent, ghostly figures of elite Slaver guards standing motionless to either side of what looked like a giant, cylindrical fish tank. Something was moving around inside of it, that much was clear.

"Remember. No bullshit from either of you. You've been warned," explained Marco, gesturing to Kalen and Grace to enter the chamber.

"We'll be on our best behavior... promise," replied Kalen, cheekily.

"I mean it. You'll be surrounded by elite guards and Blade agents at all times. Any false moves..." Marco cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows, "The hammer comes down. Do you understand?"

"Could be said louder, but not much clearer. Yeah, we get it, Jefe. We just want a little chat is all. Jeez, I mean her Highness did ask to see us, right?"

Marco and Kalen continued with the macho button-pushing back and forth until the visitors began their incursion into the murky depths of Alma's private quarters. Marco glared on as Kalen grinned and shrugged his win like he was still a jock back in high school.

The first thing that came into view were the guards. These mechs were visibly in another class. Angelic to be precise. Gone were the rough-and-ready, utilitarian designs of the ground troopers with their easy-to-spot-in-a-crowd canary-yellow skins. In their place: sophisticated craftsmanship in white gold. They stood firm, like statues, pulse rifles close to their chests, not a whisper of movement detectable in the surrounding Dust.

"I can see her," said Grace.

"Yep. Me too," said Kalen, squinting through the thick security glass of the HOST.

Something moved. The fluid inside the tank swirled around revealing the cause of the disturbance. Kalen and Grace stopped in their tracks. That was close enough. Even though this thing was encased in an oversized jam jar, they weren't sure what it was capable of. The murk cleared and the Alma unit swam closer to the edge of her tiny world.

A young woman came into view, skin pale like grey fog, voluminous auburn hair floating loosely around her head. She looked like Medusa, thought Kalen. Her hair-snakes had a life of their own, sometimes wrapping around her face then swiftly unravelling revealing her youthful features.

The girl-woman (Kalen couldn't tell if she was sixteen or twenty five) stared at the visitors inquisitively, studying their forms as if she'd never seen other humanoids before. From the neck down, her slim frame was covered by a blood-red skinsuit. Only her hands were free. Her eyes were covered by a dark purple film giving her a goulish appearance. Clumps of white cables emerged from her spinal ports, fanning out behind her like angel wings.

Kalen was equally impressed and disturbed with what he saw before him. Like nothing he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot. It was kinda cool, but at the same time, deeply wrong. Whoever'd dreamed up this contraption should probably never be allowed around children. Or anyone, for that matter. Had this 'girl' been trapped in this machine her whole life? No doubt. Jesus. After the week he'd had, this was turning out to be the toughest pill to swallow. If there was a way to release this girl from her watery prison, they'd better find it, and find it fast.

"I'll see what I can do," said the Voice inside his head.

Holy shit! You can read my thoughts now. Kalen was shocked. His eyes darted around looking for signs of trickery, but failed to make the connection.