Ill Wind (Chaos Witches Volume Two)

By Tal Turing

Book Two - Ill Wind

The Witch is dead. Or did you simply not recognize her?

The consequences of book one, The Assets of Techview, play out in a new setting: the colony of New Berlyn, itself a domed city, a younger and brasher version of its sister city of Techview.

Cynnamon, bonded to Transom Industries, has no choice in this return to her childhood home, it was part of a promise she made, a barter to save her friends. She must complete one assignment before she can return, but what is it?
Miriam, now a full citizen is thus free of her corporate bonds finds herself instead chained to a sociopath by the strange viral colony which lives and grows inside her. And which she helped to create.
Annabelle comes to New Berlyn of her own free will, determined to find a missing member of the Seven Sisters Sanctuary, dead or alive. With few clues to start, can Ann succeed or might she also disappear?

New Berlyn welcomes them and any whom it can ruthlessly use in its frantic, desperate rush for power and fame, a desire to be the brightest jewel in Las Joyas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tal Turing
• Release date: Feb 7, 2017

Book preview

ILL WIND

Chaos Witches : Book Two

By Tal Turing

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

© Tal Turing 2016

Published at Smashwords

Smashwords Version 1.0

All rights reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Cover

Dedication

Disclaimer

Synopsis

Cast of Characters

Prelude to the Series

Transit

Annabelle's Search

First Techview Interlude

Miriam and the Bugs

Second Techview Interlude

The Transom Asset

Third Techview Interlude

The Borderlands

Fourth Techview Interlude

Hospie

Realizations

Gala

Abduction

Lynda

The Storm

Aftermaths

Notes from the Author

Cover Artwork

Cover artwork created by Marin Atanasoski and used with permission.

http://spirit815.deviantart.com/gallery/

Dedication

This work is dedicated to a woman whose name came to me only through her death – Jyoti Singh. If you don't know the name, please google it at some point.

Disclaimer

Warning: This work contains some adult themes including depictions of violence, sexual assault and sexual behavior, thus is suitable only for adults who are not easily offended. Any apparent political or religious endorsements are unintentional.

Synopsis

The Witch is dead. Or did you simply not recognize her?

The consequences of book one, The Assets of Techview, play out in a new setting: the colony of New Berlyn, itself a domed city, a younger and rasher version of its sister city of Techview.

Cynnamon, bonded to Transom Industries, has no choice in this return to her childhood home, it was part of a promise she made, a barter to save her friends. She must complete one assignment before she can return, but what does it entail?

Miriam, freed of her corporate chains, now finds herself fettered to a sociopath, a bond forged by the strange viral colony which lives and grows inside her. One which she helped to create.

Annabelle comes to New Berlyn of her own free will, determined to find a missing member of the Seven Sisters Sanctuary, dead or alive. With few clues to start, can Ann succeed or might she also disappear?

New Berlyn welcomes them and any whom it can ruthlessly use in its frantic, desperate rush for power and fame, a desire to be the brightest jewel in Las Joyas.

Las Joyas

The Domed Cities

Techview

Fulton

New Berlyn

New Chicago

Palenque (abandoned)

The Mega-Corporations

Transom Industries

Humantis

SkyTran Corp

Daneel Tech

Urbanic Corp

Corporate Officers

Miriam, Junior Officer, Humantis (former asset)

Donyden Cabb (Donnie), Senior Officer – Corporate Strategy, Humantis

Dr. Maximilian Petyr, Senior Officer – Director of Special Projects, Humantis

Paul Harilla, Executive – Operations, Transom

Steve Harilla, Senior Officer – Strategy, Transom

Edwyrd Harilla, Senior Officer – Security, Transom

Bradley Harilla, Officer – Operations, Transom

Lysander Barrett, Executive -Security, Transom

Tym Matheson, Executive – Strategy, Transom - Techview

Sams, Junior Officer – Security, Humantis

Mother, Director of Operations, Transom - Techview

Villagers

Annabelle Paige, Techview

Pol Gente, New Berlyn

Lynda Thorgen, New Berlyn

Pur Sarkov, New Berlyn

The Assets

Cynnamon CC34F, Operations, Transom

Carla K342G, Corporate Hospitality Services, Transom

James D3T12, Operations, Transom

Prelude to the Series: Chaos Witches

Witch. Such a silly word, so useless and infantile that I could have gone a lifetime, several lifetimes without ever uttering it, a term used by children and story tellers.

But it sprung into my mind one day as she arrived. As I watched, the door opened and she stepped through, like so many times before, but this time my subconscious puzzled and wondered and unable to do any better, spit out that single word. Witch.

I never saw her bend the fabric of space or vanish into thin air and all the strange occurrences which manifested in her presence could be explained rationally. Still, I questioned and I wondered.

I can't claim to have made the connection myself, it was offered in a dream. She rose from a black pool, the sea of the cosmos, the inky drops of liquid stardust sliding off her skin as she emerged and walked onto a rocky beach, a mysterious smile on her face.

Still, I am not sure, and I have known her and of her all these years, but have kept her secret of my own free will. Or so I believe.

Transit

The Train

The dark, thick clouds moved rapidly over the valleys and foothills of what was once the North American Midwest, bringing pelting rains and obscuring the light of the moon, the stars, the milky background radiation of the Universe itself, sights precious to those who had lived before the age of Maltiempo.

The thunder boomed and lightning ripped through the air, burning it in its intensity. The winds raged, stressing the trunks of the trees which remained standing, not yet broken, and pushing the limbs and leaves of the fallen further into the muddy earth.

A strange object appeared at the rim of a valley, undaunted by the storm. It is long but not rigid, segmented, like a snake, and it moved quickly, above the ground, its belly sparkling with a strange white-blue static. The creature moved through the air, like an eel through the water, but it does not fly, it does not rely on air pressure to keep itself aloft, rather it is somehow held to the Earth itself; myriad invisible, paradoxically rigid tethers stabilize the vehicle on its path. The ground beneath trembles and shudders as it passes overhead.

A large tree branch, torn loose by the storm, is hurled toward the thing; which does not react, does not evade. Upon reaching the murky envelope of air cloaking the strange machine, the projectile is shredded and dispersed as the vehicle moves on its way.

The segments of the eel-like vehicle are the cars of the train, those in front holding the living, while those in the rear are configured for storage. But the last one is currently at cross purposes.

In Storage

The last car of the Earth Hugger train was claustrophobic and dimly lit, the various metallic canisters and containers, stacked and bundled to each other, filled the chamber leaving only narrow aisles and tiny spaces. The terrible lightning from the storm illuminated the room with an eerie, greenish glow.

Cynnamon's olive skin seemed almost blue in the strange environment but that was the least of her worries. An announcement had been made - they were nearing the valley of New Berlyn, their destination. Time was running out.

On one side, blocking her exit, was the impostor. He was speaking but his lies no longer mattered. Although omnaudient, she could ignore even though she heard. Beyond, his partner was leading a disoriented female out of the chamber.

Worse, on her left was a large container, cracked open like a lunch box on its side, revealing its contents - an evil-looking machine consisting of a padded chair surrounded by an array of digital displays and translucent tubes. The arm restraints were clearly visible, opened to release its previous occupant.

She was familiar with the test it would perform, a fertility assessment, a painful one, so much so that the subject would be injected with a non-anesthetizing paralytic, its purpose to reduce damage to the machine by the otherwise frantic and desperate escape attempts of its patients.

Cyn looked back at the man, he had moved toward her slightly, still relying on his words to further his purpose. And there was the mystery - what was his purpose? And why this awful medical procedure? It was more than likely that he did not even know, only those who would pay him understood the reason.

The exit door closed shut, abruptly ending the whimper of the other female, a human asset just like herself, a corporate slave, but younger, less experienced. She would not be the last. That made up her mind.

Take care to wander where you wonder

Cynnamon hummed to herself a song of her mother as she maintained a trusting and passive demeanor, allowing him to lead her to and into the chair. But she looked away as he quickly, expertly, closed the guards on her arms.

Still there was time, there was still a way out. Her strong legs were within striking distance of his head and if she knocked him out or worse, it wouldn't be long before they had arrived and the unloading began. But she allowed the thigh bar to be lowered and now there was nothing even she could do.

Fallen Guard

Get back to your damn seats! snarled the guard, a behemoth clad in a strange, black armor, its surface rough, sharp and irregular as if fused by a lightning strike into bitter glass edges. The frustrated voice from the human within was distorted into an evil hiss, just as intimidating as his appearance. And in response, the many curious and alarmed passengers scattered like roaches.

The angry guard lifted a figure, also armored but unconscious and bare-headed; the motors inside his stibnite armor whined softly as the load was lifted into the air. Then, the lead guard walked off, leaving large bloody footprints, noticed only by the third guard who hurried afterwards.

You fucking traitor, the lead guard snarled at the delirious and bleeding man when they had gotten him safely into a private security compartment. You are a disgrace to the uniform, to your city, to your family! He spat the accusations as his large, gauntleted hand closed in on the man's unprotected head, squeezing.

He was acting strange, Dwyn! the other guard insisted, Did you hear his voice? It didn't sound like him. Maybe it's not his fault...

Or maybe he was showing his true colors and he had the nerve to call us traitors in front of those people the lead guard snarled as the motors in his armor hummed. Suddenly the man moaned and began to scream. But that ended when the room was filled with the dull crack of a human skull.

The other guard watched the now-dead man's head flop back, the muscles in his neck proffering in the air. It was then that he saw the puncture wound near the carotid artery. Or perhaps it was just a drop of blood. What did it matter now?

Hiding the Evidence

Annabelle pushed the taller, younger woman in front of her as they fled the scene. The other girl did not resist but neither did she completely obey, turning her head back toward the large hulks who were bellowing, locked in combat against one of their own.

Enough, Miri, back to your seats like the nice men asked..., Ann pleaded.

He doesn't sound so tough now, does he? The bombshell whispered with obvious joy.

Ann pulled Miriam into an empty compartment, vacated by bored passengers anxious to view the commotion. She bent in back of one of the large SkyTran Hi-G turbulence chairs, retrieved the spent needle and pushed it into the fabric of the chair, where it would spend the rest of its inanimate life.

You did do something! Miriam challenged her in an excited but girlish exclamation.

Did not, Annabelle replied slipping past her and taking a furtive peek into the aisle. There was no one there. An automated voice implored:

Please return to the protection of your berths and activate your harness. We will arrive in New Berlyn soon. When you purchased your ticket you agreed to abide...

We should do what it says, Ann suggested. It was to be her first trip to this city and she had been dreading it but now she couldn't wait to get off this train.

You shouldn't have done anything, I can handle myself, Miriam spoke simply, frankly as she looked into Ann's practical, blue eyes and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. I am tougher than I look. But where is that Cyn girl? We should make sure she is okay...

Ann bristled. If any of them would avoid a domer jail, it was that one. Why would they imprison their own slave?

That one? Don't worry about her. We will be arriving in New Berlyn soon, you should get back to your Doctor, right?

Yes...I should, Miriam replied mechanically as if the word triggered a trance, her lithe frame suddenly stiffening. Then, after a moment, she returned and spoke quickly. But wait for me in the station, the Doctor has a ride arranged. We'll all go together. Promise me you'll both wait for me. For us.

Ann sighed. Anything to get her back to her seat.

The Doctor

Miriam slipped into the large, private compartment, one of the few of its kind on the train, a pricey corporate accommodation, arranged by her benefactor and lover. Maximilian Petyr was a rising star at Humantis Corporation thanks to the spectacular successes he had achieved...with her help.

The Bugs bristled at her proud thought, she let the feeling seize her and pass, like an allergic reaction. She knew they were there but she could handle them, although it was increasingly tiresome to do so.

Did you enjoy yourself my Dear? the older man called, his eyelids heavy on her, like a snake, Celebrating your promotion, your liberation from the shackles of Sponsorship?

Miriam's outrageously feminine figure walked gracefully to him, despite the shudder of the train. She slid into the berth nearby, her beautiful green eyes sparkling.

Thanks to you, Petyr...

Thanks to us...consider that we are no longer two, but one. Even I did not realize my own genius. We are joined in a much more significant way than those fools who speak of soul mates, bonds and becoming 'one'.

Her eyes widened, was he going to propose? Or was he mocking marriage? She was clever enough to not react to the idea. The Bugs might not like it, she was not the marrying kind. But he was right. They were connected and in more ways than he realized.

As you say, Petyr, she smiled.

Did anything interesting happen? he asked. Why all the announcements to return to seats? When I was out there I could find hardly a soul away from their berth.

Miriam could not deflect that question, the Bugs would not allow it, they were awake, watching her. She could feel them, their collective attention piqued like prairie dogs.

There was a fight...among the guards, can you believe it? One of them went crazy and attacked the others.

That is unfortunate, but you had better get used to it, my dear, these Berlyners are animals.

It was not enough. The Bugs insisted on further disclosure and for a moment she fought them.

They are pigs. I had words with one of them, right before the fight.

You had better keep that to yourself, my dear.

Excellent. That was exactly what she wished to do. She closed her eyes as the train swayed and the interior chambers rotated and twisted, minimizing the impact of the motion to its passengers.

Questions of a Child

The pre-teen girl watched the angry storm through the view port, and felt the vehicle bank to the right and her chair shift in the opposite direction, softening the jolt to her small frame. Even at her young age, she had experienced the phenomena many times; her Uncle used to intentionally rotate his dome vehicle in order to show her how the seats worked.

But that had been within the safety of one of Techview's many domes. Now they were miles away from their city, in the middle of a storm, within Maltiempo itself, and although she wanted to be brave, she was worried, it seemed the storm got worse the longer they traveled.

She spoke out in an effort to calm her nerves.

I'm not afraid of Maltiempo, are you? She asked looking up at her mother.

No, Dear, there is nothing to worry about. We are almost there.

I'm not worried. It's a silly name, right?. Mal-tee-empo, what does it even mean?

Shhhh, I think some people are still sleeping, the lights are dim.

But what does it mean, Mommy? the girl complained.

It means bad weather, that's all, her mother assured her.

It means bad times, declared a voice from another berth within their compartment, a brash, young male. Bad as in 'bad man', a guy who doesn't like you. Everyone knows...

A gruff male voice spoke out and the boy stopped in mid-sentence.

Think of something pleasant dear, the girl's mother instructed with a squeeze of her hand.

Okay, why do we have to travel so far just to go to another city?

Domed cities can only be built in special places, like our valley. When I was a girl there were only two cities in Las Joyas. Do you know how many there are now?

Five

No dear, there are four.

It's five! They built five but everyone left one of them. We learned that last year, I told you about it, Mommy!

Fine, but we are going to New Berlyn.

But Techview is the best and the brightest, right?

Shhh. Everyone thinks their home is the best.

But ours really is, isn't it? The first and the brightest jewel in Earth's muddy crown.

Where did you get that?

From a song we learned in school.

Okay, but don't sing it here.

But where is 'here', where is New Berlyn?

I don't know, Sweetie. No one knows.

Someone must know.

At that moment, someone stood in the darkness and emerged into the dim light. The mother and daughter looked up in surprise, only to be startled a second time when they saw the figure's face, or lack thereof. It walked by them and out into the aisle.

After a minute, the mother leaned over to her daughter and whispered.

She probably knows where it is.

Who was that?! the daughter whispered excitedly, her mind finally distracted from the storm.

The Navigator

The navigator walked from the compartment, the shiny, mirror-like face plate that she wore made her stick out in every situation save when she was with her own kind, so she did not bristle at the tone of the child's voice. She did not envy that 'normal' child, she pitied her if anything at all.

Her special AI, a unit that even corpers had never seen, unlocked the various secure portals which led to one of several, redundant cockpits. The chamber was large enough to fit two people but there was no one else present. She knew that one of her partners was located at the other end of the train and another near the middle.

She strapped herself into a safety harness, her arms falling to her sides and her fingers motionless, not needing AI gloves. The soft lights of the instrument panel reflected on her mirrored face plate but she was not looking back, she knew the data before even the dashboard could update itself.

But she had heard what the child had said about 'Maltiempo'. She had asked her own mother the same types of questions when she was a child. She sighed, even a member of the Daneel Collective was not beyond longing for the comforts of the past and for her own mother. She envied the offspring of her people today, they would never be without their mother, or their father or any loved one.

And Maltiempo was not such a bad thing. Weather had not been the lethal enemy of mankind, rather it was change itself. Besides, it was only in the age of Maltiempo that the planet had witnessed the next evolution of man, something new, something never seen in all of its history, something only imagined - a burgeoning collective intelligence, a hive of human brains connected in a profound way. They dreamed that one day every human would be connected with every other human, in real time. Some day. Not today.

Thus she was not alone, even as she sat within a speeding, levitating train, her mind was connected, to some degree, with many, though not all, of her compatriots in the city she had left as well as the one which she approached. And they in turn were connected to others who were then connected to others of their kind, of their 'corporation'.

Just as humans do not think with a single neuron or even a single region of their brain, neither did the Collective think with one of its constituent entities nor even with two of them. It was the sum of the minds which formed and influenced the whole. It even debated itself.

Transom Industries was an excellent choice for our purpose.

Large, but not too powerful.

Pervasive, but prone to our intimidation.

They will speak of our grievance with them and will be believed.

More than if we had spoken ourselves.

Because many fear us.

Many love us.

Some think us insane.

Many envy us but trust our technology.

But assimilation remains our greatest challenge now.

Granted. Then why did we take only one of the Transom assets?

The plan was to take both. We took only one.

The point was made.

Taking both might have resulted in undue resentment, Transom might still be useful.

A partnership?

A takeover?

A working relationship.

If only one should be taken why not the asset CC34F? The female?

Females are better contributions for obvious reasons.

The male was known to have compatibility issues.

We always intended to take the female. That is why she was summoned.

We changed our mind. We offered her a choice.

Which she rejected.

It was not the plan.

Plans are not rigid things. We changed our mind. We changed the plan.

It is done. Move on.

But why was it done? We were not all present. We are not yet capable to be all-present.

We, who were present, changed the plan.

Why?

She did not try to manipulate us.

She respects us. She may be a useful liaison.

She has a pretty face, are we even now so shallow?

She sang us a song. Of paths which cannot be retraced, decisions which cannot be un-made. Something we know well.

She understands us, she may join us willingly, and others will follow.

Many will join us when they realize all that we are.

Many will hate us for what we are becoming.

Perhaps.

Perhaps we were fooled.

Perhaps she fooled us.

Perhaps we felt sorry for her.

Perhaps we felt sorry for her.

Perhaps our gesture will be remembered.

Perhaps we were moved by a song.

Perhaps we were bewitched by a pretty face.

Perhaps we were bewitched, echoed the thoughts of the faceless woman from within the cockpit of the strange levitating train as it rose above a ruined forest and moved on its way, obscured by darkness, protected by fear of the storm. Mostly.

Raiders

The train passed over piles of tangled and interlaced tree limbs and vines, once an orderly forest. Huddled beneath a makeshift igloo of lumber, garbage and debris, white eyes looked out from beneath just in time to see the strange object pass overhead.

Caught by surprise, Agnetha had no time to duck her head back, and she felt the tremble of the ground beneath her, beneath them all, and she was sure they had been found out. She closed her eyes in despair and waited the consequences of her mistake. But the blue-sparking thing passed them by.

Raider. Others had named her and her people as such. But they were mistaken; they didn't understand. They were traders. And she has heard the tales of a few who had managed to barter with the owners of the flying eel. And profited greatly.

So she has led her companions far off the normal travel routes, using only glimpses of the creature and her own guesswork as guidance. But the storms favor the bold with luck. Now, with this new sighting, she adjusted their heading once again and would continue on, hoping to find the lair of the people who have created such a machine.

Darren

Although he pretended to be gazing out the dark window of the hugger train as it neared New Berlyn, Darren was actually furtively watching the young woman in the berth across from his own. So while his eyes technically received light from the smokey fire within the toppled forest below, he was distracted and his brain simply did not realize the significance - that the ruined forest was harboring human life. He had bigger fish to fry.

For Darren, it had been a productive trip, garnering two potential human contracts, two females anxious to better their lot, to decrease their corporate debt by trading owners.

The first subject was easy, young and naive; she had just reached the stage of her serfdom to have realized how long it might be before her debt could be paid but not yet experienced enough to know that corporate profits are not easily discarded. There was no such thing as a free lunch, not even a discounted lunch.

The other, the woman he now watched, was more experienced and thus more suspicious, but Darren was a consummate salesman and knew to play the game to the last, pressing every opportunity and being persistent to the end.

It had paid off. He was constantly amazed how the desire to improve one's social and economic status so easily overruled better judgment.

It wasn't that the deal was too good to be true. But sometimes the devil you know is much better than the devil you don't. And this devil, the one to whom he would sell them, didn't want them to work for years, gradually paying off their debt through paltry commissions. No, he wanted them simply as medical assets, hosts, expendable bodies and that was the real reason such a large fraction of the debt could be written off and they would never get the chance to pay off the reduced balance.

Still, he was concerned. This one, the olive skinned Transom asset, had a satisfactory fertility score, determined through the Paulson test, a procedure he was told was extremely uncomfortable, the word he preferred to use. And most subjects emerged disoriented but functional and aware. But this one had not.

Instead, she didn't seem to recognize him or her surroundings. He had been forced to help her back to her berth, fighting her attempts to fall backwards, restraining the wide circular motion she tried to make with her arms, as if she were swimming. If she attracted too much attention, a medic might be called, and they might test a sample of her blood.

He had hoped she would regain her senses during the remainder of the trip but she sat quiet, without speaking or reacting, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling of the passenger car as if she was looking up into the heavens.

Suddenly, he realized that the train had stopped, safely docked in a hugger tube beneath New Berlyn, and the passengers were starting to gather their belongings and leave. The girl, however, did not react and remained seated, even as others rose and collected their belongings.

Darren's eyes caught a young man eyeing the dark hair and smooth, tan complexion of his prospect with a look of concern. What if the intruder tried to strike up a conversation with her and became alarmed? Darren rose to his feet and approached her, possessively, and stood, as if waiting patiently. Finally, the man moved on. Then Darren reached down and put his hand on hers, and pinched her, hard.

To his relief, the girl reacted, pulling her hand away. But unwilling to cast any further suspicion on himself, he simply muttered, Wake up, we've arrived, and then he walked to the threshold of the car and began to work his way into the aisle of disembarking passengers. He took a final look at her, and his heart sank, she was still in her seat.

Hey, he began, and then whispered privately to a uniformed attendant, there is a girl in that compartment...well I told her that we arrived but she just went back to sleep. She has been like that the entire trip, probably too much partying. I hope you won't leave without her?

No chance of that, the conductor replied seriously. We go into the yard until tomorrow evening. But I'll roust her out.

Only partially reassured, Darren filed out with the rest and walked quickly into New Berlyn Station. He walked slowly up the wide, stone stairs toward the station exit, stopping frequently, even as people passed him and the station quickly emptied. Long range hugger trains always arrived in the dead of night and everyone was anxious to catch a ride to a soft bed.

Finally, with his hand on the exit door, he saw her tall, dark form emerge from the tubeway. Thank the gods, he thought. He would sell her contract right away, before any complications developed; he could make up the credits when he sold the younger one. He made that decision as he pushed through the door and strolled out into the dome.

Cynnamon

She was swimming in the sea of everything, the dark liquid of space-time cool against her cheeks, the tingling of spontaneously created particles dancing before her eyes like fireflies before embracing their twins again and vanishing. She felt the soothing hum of the Universe filling her ears. She was relaxed and happy, her arms and legs executing a slow, gentle, back crawl as she swam through the void.

She had purposed toward it, the impossibly black center around which everything else swirled, but as she grew closer she realized her aim was off, her speed increasing quickly. She stopped trying to correct course, she was now moving too fast and could no longer significantly change her trajectory. She looked toward the eye of the maelstrom as it whipped her body around it. And flung her back the way she had come.

Next time, she mused, her aim would be better but no matter. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation of stardust against her skin as she sailed through it all.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by a distinctive sound, a bell, a chime. She opened her eyes to find a floating island of rock. An illuminated door had opened in one facet of stone. Through it she could see a small room, shelves in one wall, each of which held many small, golden boxes.

Instinctively, she knew the containers belonged to her. Each a reminder of something she needed to consider or wanted to do. Over the years she had come to the realization that some of these mementos might remain on their shelves forever, unfinished.

The bell rang again.

Cynnamon slipped out of the sea and stepped onto the rocks, sparking drops of liquid emptiness rolling off her gold hued skin, falling back to where they belonged.

Curious, she walked to the door and passed through finding herself now in a brightly lit hallway. The music of the Universe was gone, replaced with a low, mechanical vibration. A solitary man stood ahead of her, gesturing to her and pointing.

She moved forward, following his direction, along another corridor until she reached a closed portal, its window revealing the smooth, rounded walls of a strange corridor beyond. The portal remained closed.

She turned back toward the man, confused, and watched as he made another motion and repeated his gesture. She turned and watched as the door parted before her. She stepped through.

Annabelle's Search

Arrival

Annabelle Paige stepped out of New Berlyn station and received a nose-full of dry, metallic, dome air. She took a moment to gaze over the tops of the buildings which surrounded the raised station and into what appeared to be an unobstructed night sky, complete with blazing stars and a full moon. She smiled as another, smaller red moon sailed across the sky. This could not be real. These domers were so extravagant! Didn't they see that there was beauty in clouds as well?

The mustached man, Miriam's companion, was not distracted by the unexpected sight, perhaps he had been here before. Rather, he waved them toward a waiting cab.

Ann was ambivalent as to whether she should part ways with the couple now, but her inferior villager AI unit had been unable to secure a ride and it was well after midnight, so she decided that she would not pass up the offer. She took a seat opposite the pair, determined not to stare.

The man, a doctor of some sort, had a clean cut, dapper appearance and even, reddish-brown hair with no signs of gray, though that meant little these days. He had a stocky build and ruddy skin so Ann pegged his age in the mid-forties, a stark contract to Miriam's trendy fashions, silky young skin, glittered eye lashes and beauty contest winner looks.

Ann was amused to see the normally aloof Miriam fretting.

I hope she isn't standing in the middle of that old building waiting for us? It's late with few taxis, Miriam complained, her large doll-like green eyes blinked slowly.

Then she will call one herself, Ann assured her. but it's much more likely she is long gone by now, attending to the whims of her corporate masters.

Nothing wrong with that! the Doctor smiled happily at Ann. And by the way, who the hell are you?

Be nice, insisted Miriam, This is Ann, my friend from that church, I told you about her.

I remember something about a church, now you have a friend there? He asked turning toward Miriam.

I bumped into her on the ride down. And yes, two meetings is enough to call her friend.

Annabelle Paige, Ann offered her hand but the man just looked at her.

Doctor Maximilian Petyr, he smiled pleasantly. What do you do Miss Paige?

Well, I am a botanist in Techview, but I've always wanted to see New Berlyn, Ann lied.

At least that was her story, what she would tell everyone here, even Miriam. And while she would have to see something of this dismal valley, her main purpose, the only thing which brought her so far from her Techview home, was to investigate the disappearance of a member of the local Sisterhood; and not just any member, but its figurative leader, the First Sister of New Berlyn.

Really? Why? the Doctor laughed, and then he relented. Perhaps you came to see Transom Gardens? I hear they are spectacular, even by historical standards.

Fragile dome flowers do not interest me, I live in the villages, Ann declared.

Don't you mean under the villages? Petyr responded with a glimmer in his eye, in some fox hole?

Do you have a place to stay, Ann? Miriam interjected, placing a hand on Petyr's forearm.

Ann looked at her blankly. She had thought to stay in the Sanctuary but the building had been abandoned and it was late.

Miriam did not wait for an answer. We have two rooms allocated, but as I will stay with the Doctor, you will take the other.

Both Petyr and Ann looked blankly at Miriam who now seemed satisfied and began arranging her full light brown hair.

Miriam, I can..., Ann began, uncomfortable at the thought but realizing it would be convenient. She needed to begin her search first thing the next day and it would be better to accept this offer rather than registering her credentials at some corper hotel. It was still a working theory that Sister Lyn had been kidnapped to satisfy some corporate need.

And have breakfast with us as well, Miriam said seriously, looking up at her with lovely green eyes, Then you can go off sightseeing and attend to your business. You could have shared the room with that Cyn girl if the bitch hadn't ditched us. I hope that is what she did. Tell her it's okay, Petyr.

The strange man shrugged and looked over at Ann as if it were now his mission to convince her.

If you are traveling alone, the Doctor explained, then Miriam is making sense. New Berlyn frowns upon unescorted females. It would be better if you appear to belong to our party; they will think you are Miriam's mother.

Ann scowled inwardly although she had a daughter exactly Miriam's age.

So what if I am unescorted? What nonsense is that? Ann demanded.

Yes, you will definitely need an escort as you travel within the confines of New Berlyn, preferably a male escort, you can hire one if needed.

You are joking, Ann replied indignantly.

I do not joke, Petyr assured her. What is the point? To confuse? To provoke laughter? I just never understood the concept.

Miriam leaned forward, speaking directly to Ann.

He is not joking, I am sure Ann. We can discuss tomorrow, okay? Please? Miriam's pretty lips pouted and she looked pleadingly at Ann with large doe eyes.

"Well, okay,