Thirty three, 9 June
Handpicked by the gods
Dronikus, a novel set on a burning planet called Earth.
My old friend
Zola sat at his terminal firing off e-crypto messages into the ether in the hope of a hit, like a boffin sending out radio signals to the universe. After many hours of random messaging and searching he was about to give up when his efforts were rewarded. A reply in his inbox read: ‘If you knew her, you loved her.’
‘That sounds like a poor love-sick old bastard,’ thought Zola. He replied: ‘I knew her; now she’s gone in the AutoTrain.’
‘Was she alone?’
‘We were three. Heesh was with us.’
‘Zola?’
‘Ballie?’
The door to his room clicked open. He and Arno went out, following Nur as she, with her own rator at her side, led them along passageways and down stairways, passing many fixed surveillance cameras as they went.
‘Won’t they see us?’ asked Zola.
‘Yes, of course they will.’
‘Don’t you care? I’m a prisoner, you know?’
‘Fuck them, what do I care?’ She winked at him. ‘Actually, I did tell the main desk that I was taking you on a tour. I’m sure that Enrike will be delighted.’
She led him down into the basement corridors that ran beneath Shangdu, under the Pandoke houses, offices, gardens, and the many other buildings of the enormous estate.
They moved through the dimly lit maze of passages, past reject furniture, boxes, old implements, and other junk that lay along the walls, covered in dust. It felt as if they were the first ones to enter here for ages, archaeologists opening a passage under an ancient pyramid.
‘Not so fast,’ said Zola.
‘I always walk fast, don’t you remember?’ said Nur.
‘I do, but I want to enjoy this. I haven’t been down here in years, you might remember?’ Zola instructed Arno to shine its light along the wall. ‘The garages were just along here.’
They stopped at a door above which was an old painted sign in a long-forgotten font: ‘Transport’.
Behind the door were offices – all empty but for a few abandoned desks, shelves, and filing cabinets. A corridor led them to an open mezzanine gallery from where they looked down to the floor below, beneath a high-vaulted roof.
‘Wow! They’re still here,’ said Zola.
Half a dozen large black cars were neatly parked in bays down the one side, all covered in thick dust, their tyres flat, not driven in many decades, forgotten. Along the other wall stood motor workshops, workbenches, tools, fuel bowsers, and car parts, also untouched for those years. On the opposite side from where they stood was a tunnel, wide enough for two cars. Zola wondered if this old entrance was still functional.
‘Come on,’ said Nur.
Back in the corridors they found a door with a similarly styled sign that read: ‘Swimming Pool.’
They entered a large open area below a splendid glass dome. Its crafted glass panels diffused a warm sunlight onto century-and-a-half-old deco-styled walls. The old swimming pool, empty and dirty, was nevertheless spectacular, the metallic blue of the fine tiles in and around it shining through the dust.
‘Wow! I had forgotten just how brilliant this is.’
‘It is truly magnificent,’ said Nur.
‘When did they stop using it?’
‘At the time when… around the time you left,’ said Nur.
They walked around, marvelling at the designs, the colours, and the light and then sat, dangling their legs from the edge of the pool.
‘This is where we first made love. Remember? In the water?’
He grinned. ‘Yeah.’
‘We were so young,’ she said. ‘It was like we were handpicked by the gods.’ They sat in the silence of their memories. She put her hand on his leg. ‘Zola. I, er…’
He looked at her. ‘Let’s stick to the present, hey?’
‘I’m very much in the present.’
‘I mean…’
‘I know what you mean. This is for their benefit,’ she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at Arno.
‘Yeah but even so…’
She took her hand away and began to work the Eyeto.
‘It really is quite exquisite,’ Zola said, looking up at the stained-glass motifs on the dome. Behind him both Arno and Nur’s rator folded down and switched off.
Nur took hold of Zola’s face and pulled it round towards her. ‘I need your help. After our talk the other day I realise that you are the only ally that I have.’
‘You don’t “have” me.’
‘Zola!’ She tightened her grip on his face. ‘I want you to come back into Pandoke and join me.’
He said nothing.
She talked in a low voice, keeping her hand on his cheek: ‘This organisation is headed for some serious trouble. You saw the anger; you were even part of that anger in the streets. You know the depths of the problems we as a company and the larger society are facing. And it’s not just that. It is actually much bigger.’
‘What are you talking about?’
She dropped her hand onto his shoulder. ‘Some things have happened that could lead to disaster. I can’t say anything more…’
‘You can. And if you want me to even consider joining you…’
‘Ok, understood.’ She paused. ‘But you should know that what I have to tell you is dangerous knowledge. Enrike is rightly very scared of what that knowledge would do in the wrong hands.’
‘Enrike?’
She nodded.
‘Tell me,’ he said.
‘I found out by chance. They are doing experiments on children, infants, in the womb even.’
‘At Sesanti?’
‘Yes. When Enrike found out that I had discovered this, he moved immediately to curtail my activities and freedoms. He got Meriti to force me to come back here from Elatus, where I had been based. He even tried to get Meriti to watch over me like an ancient husband. I ask you! I’m treated like a prisoner. And he’s has threatened me on a number of occasions. That’s why I say that I’m next on his list…’
‘Is Leilu involved?’
Nur shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Who told you about the experiments?’
‘An acquaintance. Someone who used to work in that section at Sesanti.’
‘Obviously you trust this person?’
‘Yes. We were lovers for some time.’
‘What’s happened to him?’
‘A while ago he simply disappeared. Dunno where he went. It could be entirely unrelated – we weren’t getting on too well – but I can’t say.’
Zola got up and wandered around the empty pool, leaving her watching him, her legs still hanging into the empty pool.
‘And what does Meriti say?’
‘Ah, Meriti. He’s probably also involved but he claims to know nothing. He tells me I’m mistaken and panicking for nothing.’
‘Your dear husband.’
‘In name. He’s got a full-time mistress these days. Anyway, Enrike has been turning Meriti against me, persuading him that I am plotting to get rid of them both.’
‘Well, isn’t that the truth?’
‘Zola, your brother is a monster. But yes, I do have a plan, just as I’m sure he has a plan.’
‘And I get the feeling that I figure in both of them,’ he chuckled.
‘I guess so,’ she laughed with him.
He stopped alongside where she sat.
‘It was here.’ She pointed to the shallow end of the pool.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘It was here, don’t you remember, I grabbed you over there and pulled you in? And then, well then…’
He shrugged and walked on, leaving her staring down into the empty pool.
With the rators back on their feet, they went on down the corridor. Zola stopped at a door that had no sign above it. ‘Ah, here we are.’ He brushed the layers of grime away from the panelling to reveal handwritten words: ‘Zola’s workshop. Keep out!’ above a sketched skull and crossbones.
He tried the door but could not get it to budge. Arno gave it a hefty hit with its shoulder and it sprung open. Arno shone its light around the room, revealing abandoned tools, workbenches, metal cupboards, and storage bins, untouched in many years. Zola went across and reached a tarpaulin, pulling it away with a flourish and a cloud of dust. On the workbench stood a large metal lathe.
‘Ah, my old friend.’
Dronikus is a novel published in 2023, now being serialised here on Substack. You can read a chapter every week for free.
Liking what you’re reading? Don’t want to wait to see what happens next? You can read the full book now by purchasing a digital or print copy of Dronikus from:
AndAlso Books (print edition)
Amazon (epub), Smashwords (epub), Apple Books (epub), Barnes&Noble (epub)
Note from Marko Newman: Hi Dronikus readers. I hope that you are liking what you are reading. There is still a fair way to go in the story with many twists and turns to come.
For those who are joining the story I highly recommend you take the time to peruse earlier chapters to give you a bit of a lead-in to the story.
I suggest:
Chapters 1 to 3, 7, 9 and 12:
I have a favour to ask all readers: please forward the story (any episode) to anyone who you think may like this short weekly hit of fiction reading. Suggest that if they like it they could subscribe to the weekly post. Emphasise that it is free and that one can unsubscribe with one click.
If you are on Substack please recommend Hey, what’s that sound? to other Substackers.
I’m keen to hear any comments or questions or thoughts you may have. My email is: markonewman@icloud.com
Cheers, Marko