Exurbia: A Novel About Caterpillars (An Infinite Triptych Book 1) by Alex McKechnie Read Free Book Online Page A

sensation percolate up through him, something warm and heady. Relief . No one has died.  ‘Neutralised by what?’
    ‘Unknown.’
    Probable: some kind of force-field or advanced defence technology manufactured at the syndicate galactica hub. This wasn’t the first time the syndicate had pulled an unexpected move like that. They have their secrets just like any ruling body.
    ‘How to proceed?’ asked the cave.
    He didn’t bother with the quandary globes.
    ‘It was a test to see if we have developed illegal defence technology. They were relying on us trying to defend ourselves. If Exurbia had wiremind-designed technology, it would have used it. Now the syndicate know for certain that Exurbia is following the Pergrin Decree. The craft will land in one of the major capitals. It will be an official syndicate visitation. There’s no further danger.’
    ‘You’re quite certain?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said, covered in sweat then. ‘I’m quite certain.’

8
    “Put a beast before a mirror and he won't recognise his own reflection. As we look out into the heavens, I think it's becoming abundantly clear we are a mirror for the stars themselves, and it is the reflection which must return to them. ”
    - Tersh Stanislav of Exurbia
     
     
    Jura -
     
    The secretary had pointed the professor to the rooftop. ‘He likes to watch the city in the evening,’ she'd added.
    He entered the tershal chambers. They were much as he had expected: ornate and pompous. On the ceiling of each chamber danced esoteric symbols of Old Erde, a puerile attempt to appear highly cultured to visitors perhaps. The walls of the main chamber were covered in purple streamers. Something moved in the corner of the room. He tried not to show alarm. A gungov. The creature looked him up and down, the mouth quivering and rasping, the flaming orange eyes fixed on his.
    ‘I’m just...I’m visiting the tersh,’ Jura said. Do they even understand Exurbic?  The thing didn’t move. Jura took a step to the side. The gungov turned with him. How is it they kill? And is there pleasure in it for them?
    A spiral staircase at the centre of the chamber appeared to lead up to the roof. He fled to it and took the steps three at a time. On the upper level the grand tersh himself sat propped on a couch in half-tershal attire, ageing, bald, and brooding, a glass in hand.
    ‘Professor,’ he said encouragingly. ‘Please.’
    He motioned to a couch opposite. Jura sat. Up close, the tersh was even fatter than the streams usually showed him. A clown’s nose sat precariously balanced on a boxer’s face.
    ‘I hope the gungov didn’t scare you.’
    ‘Your Great Auspiciousness,’ Jura said. ‘Magnanimous -’
    ‘Professor. Look.’
    Beyond the rooftop, hundreds of feet below, was Bucephalia in all its absurd glory. Spires and towers that tried for a respectable height, but all were dwarfed by the grand tersh’s tower. A few of the moveable buildings were still exchanging rooms and levels with one another in the night, buffeting about.
    ‘We’re alone. Nobody’s watching. Let’s dispense with titles.’
    Jura nodded. What a strange accent the tersh had, emphasising all the wrong beats in a word, a leftover of his Kraikese childhood.
    ‘I’ve had my eye on you for some time now,’ said the tersh.
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Yes indeed. Particularly your work on wiremind detection. Very promising. We might’ve had a crisis on our hands if it wasn’t for your recent efforts.’
    ‘That’s very kind, Grand Tersh.’
    ‘Drink?’
    ‘No, thank you. I'm quite all right.’
    A drone appeared at Jura’s side bearing what looked like zapoei.
    ‘Come now, Professor. A good view deserves a good beverage, don’t you think?’
    The glass was almost scalding hot, the zapoei itself on the verge of boiling. He took a tentative sip. The flavour was not far from putrid hummus.
    ‘An acquired taste,’ said the tersh.
    ‘I believe I’m yet to acquire it, Your Eminence.’
    The tersh was