Memory Seed by Stephen Palmer Read Free Book Online

had to uncover the truth. Only months remained, if the predictions were correct. But she felt like a child still, and she felt hatred towards her mother for keeping her so, and towards her mother for hiding like a hermit in the Observatory and ignoring her. Arrahaquen knew she was something of a loner, but knew also that she could enjoy the company of other people. It had to be the right people, however.
    And she could not resign her job – she was Ammyvryn’s aide. It simply could not be done. She sometimes wondered if she really had feelings. Often she was treated as if she had none, as if she was just Ammyvryn’s daughter, who performed such-and-such a job for the good of Kray.
    At Defender House, as she arrived two hours after dawn to begin the task of instructing defender groups, all was normal except for the loss overnight of the Jasmine Group. They had been caught in a landslide at the very northern tip of the city – at Highgate, the ancient gate of Kray that had long been deserted and left to rats and buzzards. Arrahaquen allowed herself a bitter laugh at this news, for it was the northerly walls of Kray that were expected to crumble first under green pressure.
    The day passed without incident. Arrahaquen felt irritable, lost almost. Her job carried responsibility, but she felt as though she was dreaming her day away. She cared little for the great maps of Kray, for their ladybird-mounted lights that signified defender positions within the city.
    She had been taught all her life not to be selfish, for the sake of Kray, but now she needed to act for herself. Her privileged access to unique Citadel networks would enable her to do just that.

CHAPTER 4
    Zinina checked her augmented kit. It consisted of satchels made of leather and aluminium, individually numbered and tied to a Citadel record. Only revellers failed to carry them in the city, and only revellers failed to understand their worth. Zinina added extras to her kit; a length of nylon rope, two sachets of chemicals to make more rope if need be, various lamps, and a wallet of pyuter gadgets designed to circumnavigate irritating Citadel routines.
    It was midnight. Into the rainstorm she stepped, a subdued Graaff-lin at her side. Zinina pulled the draw-strings tight on her hood, checked the ‘ready’ light on her rifle, and headed out into the alley.
    They splashed up Hog Street. A unit of defenders, grime streaking their exhausted faces, jogged by on some errand. On walls Zinina noticed sniffer slugs – the great foot-long black products of some subterranean sewer in Ixia Street – following the slime trails of snails, noticing too how they trapped their prey, crushed their shells and ate them. Up above she noticed the orange spark of a hang-glider engine. And, far away, glimpses of black in the softly glowing sea indicated the arrival of giant turtles to the shores of Kray.
    They hastened north, passing through the Mercantile Quarter, then making along Culverkeys Street until they arrived at the border of Kray’s least populous area, the Gardens.
    Nearby lay nine dead solar mirrors and Kray’s ailing Power Station. This was an old area. Zinina stamped her feet and waited for Graaff-lin to catch up.
    She smelled menthol. It was just a sweet hint in the melange of methane and rot, but she recognised it. She peered through the rain. A few hooded figures splashed along the street, but nobody she recognised.
    The moment passed. Thunder rolled far off. Graaff-lin slipped from a passage and ran up to her. ‘You beat me to it,’ she said with a thick cough. Zinina noticed an antibiotic pad clipped to her mouth and two aerated lozenges in each nostril, a sure sign that Graaff-lin was ill. She wondered if her spluttering, pale, wasted-looking companion was up to the task ahead.
    ‘Are you fit?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. It’s the sudden chill. I’m wearing a heated jumpsuit. I’m sorry I stopped, but I had to put this pad in my mouth.’
    Zinina nodded. ‘Got