Judas Unchained

“Yeah yeah, trillions of dollars spent building the ultimate in private housing, and it’s all blown. All gone.” The room rotated around him, leaving him spread-eagle on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He took another drink of bourbon to compensate. “I’ll have to dream up something else now. Maybe go back to the Ice Citadel. No! Fuck, what am I saying? It was cold there. I am, like, not a cold-weather person. I learned that about myself.”

“So your venture was successful, then?”

“Oh, brother, was it ever. I found out everything; who put the barriers up, why they did it, why they won’t help us. And I’ll tell you something else, I was right about the Silfen, too.”

“Do they evolve into an adult state?”

“Ah ha.” Ozzie wagged a finger at the slow wavestorm of glowing lines. “I thought you’d want to know that. Man, you should have seen where they live. The gas halo is like totally groovy. Maybe I should try and build one. I’d just love to see Nigel’s face when I tell him that.”

“Who built the barriers?”

“Clouddancer said it was some race called the Anomines. But that was in a dream. I think. Anyway, they’re not around anymore. Actually, no, cancel that; they are but they’re not the same. I think they out-evolved the Silfen, some of them anyway. The others all went back home and joined Greenpeace.” Ozzie smiled lazily. The bed was wonderfully soft, and he was very tired now. He closed his eyes. “They’re not going to help us, you know. You’d dig that. You haven’t been majorly helpful here, have you? Apart from scooping up that Mellanie chick. Damn, she’s hot. Do you know if she’s dating anyone?” He yawned. Waited for the answer. “Oh, come on, man, you’re not pissed at me, are you? Just a few home truths among friends. You’ve got to grow thicker skin.”

There was still no reply. The light in the room changed.

“Mr. Isaac.”

“Huh?” That wasn’t the SI. Ozzie opened his eyes. The tangerine and turquoise lines had vanished. He swung around toward the sound of the new voice, or tried to; the bed kept getting in the way. A man’s head slid into view. Upside down, and frowning. “Hey!” Ozzie exclaimed happily. “Nelson. Been too long, man. How’s it hanging?”

“I’m glad to see you’re all right.”

“Never better.”

“Quite. Nigel would like a word.”

“Bring him on in.”

“It’s easier if we take you to him.”

“Sure thing. Let me find my shoes.” Ozzie finally managed to move, and slithered off the end of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. Something hurt. It probably belonged to him. “Can you see them?” he asked Nelson earnestly.

Nelson smiled blankly, and beckoned. Ozzie was lifted to his feet by two powerful young men in gray business suits. They had identical red and green OCtattoos on their cheeks, a stack of centimeter-long lines that looked like neon sideburns.

“Hi, guys. Good to meet you.”

They carried him out of the bedroom. Orion was in the lounge outside, still wearing his fancy white and scarlet jacket. The boy looked very scared. There were a lot of people in the lounge with him, just like the ones carrying Ozzie: polite well-built men and women without any sense of humor.

“Ozzie?” Orion said; he bit his lip, looking fearfully at Nelson.

“Hang tight there, little dude, everything’s perfectly under control. Where’s Tochee?”

“I am here, friend Ozzie.”

“Do as they say.” Being vertical wasn’t good. Ozzie’s stomach didn’t like it. He threw up.

They carried him into the service elevator. There was a convoy of big dark cars outside the hotel. He was bundled into the first one. The short drive ended with him being carried onto a hypersonic aircraft, just big enough to accommodate Tochee at the back where a dozen seats had been removed.

Nelson sat down opposite Ozzie and produced a large red tablet. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“Something to help.”

“I’m not ill.”

Fingers pinched his nose shut, and he opened his mouth in reflex. The tablet was shoved in, followed by water. Ozzie half swallowed, half gagged. “Oh, brother.”

Nelson leaned back. “Strap him in. He’s going to need it.”

The flight was truly horrible. Ozzie shivered violently in his seat, his skin feverish. He desperately wanted to be sick again, but it was as if his stomach had grown an extra membrane to prevent it. The acidic heartburn down his gullet spread right through his gut. His headache seemed to be sweating its way through his skull.

An hour later his teeth had stopped chattering. The aches and discomfort were fading away, leaving his clothes soaked in cold sweat. “I fucking hate sober-ups,” Ozzie growled at Nelson. “They’re not natural. Son of a bitch, look at my clothes.” He plucked at his wet T-shirt in disgust.

“We brought your bags,” Nelson said. “You can freshen up on the train. We’ll be landing in five minutes.”

“Landing where?”

“The planetary station.”

“Great. I’ve got to pee.”

Nelson gestured down the aisle.

Ozzie slowly slipped his straps off, and rose unsteadily to his feet. Orion was sitting in the chair behind. “You okay there, dude?”