Raddocks Horizon (Godyssey Legacy Book 1)

  RADDOCKS HORIZON

  Duran Cross

  For Lisa, who brought Rennin Farrow to life.

  For Kell and Timothy, who helped make this coprocopia readable.

  For Michael, I'm sorry it's not on 2-ply like you wanted.

  And for Jacob, who gave me the steelcapped kick up the arse I needed.

  Cover art by oliviaprodesign

  CONTENTS

  RADDOCKS HORIZON

  The Sniper and the Doctor

  Line in the Sand

  Project Outreach

  The Rally

  Unrest

  Blackout

  Mettle Skin

  Reignfall

  Outbreak

  The Roads Run Red

  The Voice That Killed a City

  What's Left Behind

  The Cold Heart

  AWOL

  Breakout

  Arrival

  Epilogue

  "I will kill one to save two. Thousands to save millions."

  -William Caufmann.

  1.

  The Sniper and the Doctor

  April 10, 2319.

  It has been thirteen years since the war that nearly destroyed the entire solar system, and in that time Godyssey Watchman Rennin Farrow has been constructing an impenetrable shield of sarcasm.

  At least that’s what his workmates think.

  They believe he is weird; he talks to himself and has the most bizarre sense of humour. Occasionally, one of his co-workers will make the mistake of falling into a verbal skirmish with him. Every time, they quickly find out just how bare they can be stripped by his tongue.

  Doctor William Caufmann, the only man with a worse reputation, sits across from Rennin, staring at him. Caufmann’s penetrative green eyes shine unnaturally behind the reflective red lenses of his glasses.

  Rennin can feel them boring into his head.

  He shifts in his seat, unconsciously attempting to shake the feeling of interrogation. The watchman knows how Caufmann makes the other staff incredibly nervous, and battles with his instincts to remain calm. The doctor is currently reviewing the security footage that’s landed Rennin into this grown up version of detention.

  Caufmann eventually looks up from his screen and speaks but Rennin could swear his mouth never moved, “Well?”

  Rennin looks at him, “Well what?”

  “This is the third fist fight you’ve been involved with this year.”

  “A fight is when two or more people are fighting each other,” Rennin amends. “As I recall I was struck and the surveillance would show that I did not strike first, or in retaliation.”

  “Your mouth is what would have instigated the ‘strike’, I imagine.”

  “My mouth hurts, shouldn’t that be the end of it?” says Rennin rubbing his jaw.

  Caufmann emits an intensely artificial sigh. “Perhaps you’d be happier on Iyatoya?”

  Rennin’s glare turns fierce. “Bit on the claustrophobic side even for a space station, and I’m loathe to be away from my family.”

  Caufmann isn’t intimidated in the least, which is rare for someone Rennin considers a pencil pushing little doctor. “Those charred cinders that used to be your parents?”

  Rennin’s left eye twitches. “And sister,” his look turns to absolute ice. He can feel a ball of fiery anger trying to engulf him from within, “Your bedside manner astounds me, doctor.”

  “Clearly it takes a little more to upset you than it does your colleague.”

  Caufmann smiles his enigmatic smile and stands up. Rennin feels the instinctive need to back away. Caufmann’s predatory body language is unsettling. “I don’t mean to offend,” the doctor says still smiling, “That’s what you told your co-worker isn’t it? Before the fight started?”

  Rennin looks away clenching his jaw. If Caufmann was anyone else… “Are you going to fire me, or not?”

  Caufmann laughs, “Fire you? I should promote you.”

  Rennin raises an eyebrow.

  “Nobody really likes alpha male bigmouths, particularly not me, and it’s far worse when two get together. Though you’re still useful for the time being. You’ll be staying on as watchman, but alone for a while.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You know the concept of alpha male comes from pack animals like wolves. Personally I find it difficult to take anyone seriously if they base how they conduct themselves by emulating dogs,” says Caufmann staring hard at Rennin.

  “Are you—”

  “Though in future try to hold your tongue,” says the doctor neatly cutting him off. “If someone bothers you, you report it to your superior instead of starting an argument that wastes my time having to reprimand you. Again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I have work to do, get out.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘dismissed’, sir? I thought you were all for protocol.”

  Caufmann puts both hands on his desk, leans forward slightly and continues smiling. Despite the desk’s solid construction, Rennin can hear it creak. “Leave.”

  Rennin gets up instantly and leaves, unsuccessfully attempting to cover his shudder of dread with a sarcastic sigh.

  ◆◆◆

  The Godyssey Laboratory perches above the city of Raddocks Horizon, a target shaped edifice when viewed from orbit, situated in what was once the Alpine Shire. It is two hundred and eighty kilometres north of the blast site formerly known as Melbourne. The former city’s destruction was the catalyst that started the nine-year CryoZaiyon War between the first sentient androids and the Gorai Aurelia humanists. The war thrust focus in that part of the world to the more recently developed city of Raddocks Horizon.

  The city is comprised of three main concentric rings: Outer-city, Inner-city and Centre-city districts. From the middle it is divided like a pie into four inner wedges and eight outer wedges. The founding families own all the inner four wedges of land. From above, the city spreads out in a giant version of the Godyssey insignia.

  The largest of the four sections of Centre-city, belongs to the Raddocks family, controlled by the self financed lord of the domain.

  The Lab exists on a wedge in the inner western quadrant of the city. From the street, Godyssey’s main building appears as an obelisk, ominous and isolated, its grassy environs stretching to protective walls on every side. The watchtower, with its video relays of every side of the obelisk, guarantees this sanctity remains.

  Rennin is one of the more infamous employees of this arm of Godyssey Company; his work within the watchtower of the Godyssey lab ensures his notoriety. Through rumour at least.

  Physically, Rennin takes after his father. His black hair and solid six-foot two-inch frame were inherited, along with an intimidating glare and a fighter’s stance. His appearance also betrays the Indigo Reign mutation, inescapable since his infection during his service as a soldier, tinting his irises violet over his natural blue-grey. His translucent skin and maroon tinged lips further convey the Indigo Reign that still courses through his body but only adds to his intimidation factor.

  Rennin is stalking across the grass, hands shoved in pockets, returning to his watchtower from his most recent reprimand from Doctor Caufmann. From the corner of his eye, he notes one of the scientific staff walking the opposite way, one side of his mouth quirks slightly as he decides to entertain himself. They hate him anyway, and Rennin can’t help but be antagonistic.

  Before his target passes, Rennin spits just ahead of him.

  The lab worker’s stride stutters slightly, but as expected he says nothing. Not now, not to his face. Instead, he hurries off on his personal mission, head turned aside as Rennin stifles a snigger.

&
nbsp; Humans. Shit sacks. You wouldn’t last ten seconds on the frontline.

  “Less with me in command,” he mutters to himself.

  Towards the end of the war, Rennin made Sergeant and he was responsible for his troops. He took every casualty as a personal insult until one fateful day he lost his entire platoon and the personal insult was so intense something of himself died with them.

  Until that point, he hadn’t thought he had anything left to lose.

  The lieutenant of the mission was the only other survivor. CryoZaiyon Lieutenant Saifer Veidan. He was the second in command of the android battalions and one of the most durable androids ever made.

  Rennin always thought it strange that there was a commander who was irrefutably in charge, followed by a group of captains then Lieutenant Veidan, yet for some reason Saifer Veidan was the second in charge. Android ranking did tend to differ slightly to the human army though. One of his troops once said that for some reason the CryoZaiyons worked like the warriors of ancient times, with a general and their lieutenant, whereby everybody else was secondary.

  Rennin wishes the CryoZaiyons were still around. Even the crazy ones were more reliable than people.

  He reaches the door to his tower and presses his thumb to the read plate. A female voice greets him with the usual welcome on behalf of the Godyssey Corporation in the attempt to make it seem like someone actually gives a damn about the weird guy standing in the little room on top of the North East Clock Tower.

  People inside the lab have smart mouths of their own, he muses, despite the kind of firepower he has at his command. The clock tower tells the time and Rennin always smirks when he thinks that it also tells the time of death for anyone Caufmann orders taken down.

  Not that the white-coats ever know how or when their co-workers expire, but sometimes the anonymity excites Rennin to the point of feeling a pulse at the front of his pants. Time up, my friend.

  He’s technically a security guard but sometimes he feels more like a hitman. He is in charge of opening and closing the front gates, and of executing any of the staff that attempt to flout their contract. Any scientist attempting to escape while working on secret projects are put down. Though ‘escape’ is not the word he was told. In fact he can’t recall the word Caufmann used when describing this job to him.

  Secrecy is of top priority to Godyssey, and Rennin is in charge of enforcing it. He has the choice of using a turret defence system or his sniper rifle. He’s only had to shoot two so far.

  That’s not so bad, I killed dozens upon dozens during the war.

  Twenty years ago, he was just a pissed off kid. Now Rennin is in his mid forties, though maintaining his fitness keeps him looking early thirties on a good day. So he tells himself.

  The door to the clock tower flies up into the bulkhead, revealing the spiral staircase that snakes up three floors to the lookout. After the climb, he opens the door to see the empty chair usually occupied by his ex co-worker, Wayne Carr. Rennin smirks, Wanker.

  That’s what actually started the fight.

  Rennin laughs at how it’s such a juvenile reason to get upset. Just by increasing the speed of saying Wayne Carr really got his colleague worked up. Rennin has no doubt that it is merely repressed anger from school.

  The watchman settles in his chair on the left, allowing himself to sink into the seat. Should be a breeze with no idiots around asking to be made fun of.

  ◆◆◆

  Three hours later, Rennin is back in Caufmann’s office.

  The doctor looks even less impressed than before, but surprisingly no worse for wear. Suddenly Rennin isn’t so sure Caufmann ever sleeps.

  Occasionally Rennin has radioed Caufmann at ridiculous hours of the morning drunk out of his skull just to play the latest amusing music video he’s found on the Solarnet.

  “You want company up there now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Caufmann scoffs, “Denied.”

  “Why?”

  “You might think I’m stupid but my salary suggests otherwise—”

  Rennin interjects, “Money isn’t everything.”

  “—and I know you only want someone else to bait and mentally torment until another inevitable fight breaks out,” says Caufmann, smoothly overriding the watchman.

  “Your powers of deduction leave me awed, sir.”

  Caufmann stares at Rennin for a long moment, “Very well. There’s an android I need to test domestically, I’ll have him over there by the time you return.” He taps a few buttons on his wrist. Rennin peers curiously at the communication gauntlet, sure he has never seen one that looks so imbedded before. Rennin can’t tell whether the interface is built into his body or if the whole arm is synthetic. Caufmann pulls his right sleeve back down to cover it.

  “What android, sir?” the watchman asks, returning his attention to the subject at hand.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I am not in the Army? You do not have to address me as ‘sir’ at any time, ever.”

  “It helps me sleep at night.”

  Caufmann closes his eyes for a moment, willing his patience to hold firm, “Listen, Ren, I need you to be sharp out there. If you go through the motions with this android I’ll see what I can do to get you a partner.”

  Rennin believes it would be easier not to call him sir if only Caufmann didn’t sound so much like a soldier at times. “It’s not the most absorbing job.” Most of the time.

  “Particularly over the next few weeks.”

  “What’s happening in the next few weeks?”

  “Just with all the Gorai Aurelia activity in town.”

  Rennin snorts, “I’m amazed a faction like that has the balls to show their faces in public. Most of the people here still remember the day the GA attacked this city.”

  “Well they have the right to protest whatever they see fit. They’re non-militant now, either way.”

  “It still gets stuck in my craw a little, sir.”

  “There is a little something you can do for me, Ren. Off the record.”

  Rennin arches an eyebrow, “Oh? No problem. I hope it’s outside working hours.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “No.”

  “I need someone killed.”

  Rennin’s banter ceases and his face turns completely placid, “Say again? I’m not actually an assassin, you realise. The white coats, sure, I get that. You don’t have to be a genius to know that what you guys are cooking up below shouldn’t be allowed out at all. But if this is a civvie, I—”

  “This isn’t a human. There’s some kind of android loitering around with the Gorai Aurelia activists.”

  “Aren’t androids banned here? And why the GA? They hate them.”

  “Smoking is banned in the clock tower, but you do it. By sabotaging the smoke detection unit, no less.”

  Rennin feels a hot flush under his collar. “That’s not exactly the same thing. Not even in principle. Either way, what is something like that doing near the Gorai? Wouldn’t those luddites smash it?”

  “I don’t know, but I need it destroyed. I don’t care if you take it out from the tower or walk right up and take its head off.”

  “From the clock tower? You mean just in case it waltzes by sometime during my shift? Get the Horizon Military.”

  “It’s trying to break into the lab. That makes it an in-house problem in my view. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine, I’ll take other measures,” says Caufmann in a darkly quiet way.

  Rennin suppresses a shiver, “Do I want to know more?”

  “No.”

  Rennin nods, more to himself than Caufmann, “It’s a combat model, then.”

  “Not originally, but it is now.”

  “What type?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that you don’t want to know more?”

  “If I know its type it’ll make it easier to take down.”

  “Chassis type is unknown. Possibly a Progenitor Class.”

  Rennin�
�s interest is definitely piqued, “A rogue Progenitor Class? That thing must be ancient. And worth a fortune.”

  “To a collector, yes.”

  “You could get a small army willing to take it down just to keep its parts.”

  “Yes but we don’t want that technology in anyone’s hands but ours. I need it killed, then our men will retrieve the body and disassemble it.”

  “If I get a clean shot from the clock tower I’ll take it out, otherwise you’re on your own.”

  Caufmann nods, “That’s good enough.”

  Rennin takes a breath, “So what’s this android you want to domestically test? Is it dangerous?”

  “No. The combat protocols aren’t active.”

  ◆◆◆

  Rennin again makes the return journey to the clock tower, noticing a large steel coffin shaped box near the door.

  The infamous Raddocks Horizon rain has started to fall, and Rennin’s perception opens up as it always does in a downpour. His mind wanders as his vision runs across the bland grass, stretching from wall to solid wall, spiked periodically with defence weapons. The grounds outer wall has gun turrets at either side of the front gate and four others above the entrance to the Godyssey lab building itself. He’s never seen them activated or used them himself.

  The nostalgic upright steel bar gate is less security conscious than Rennin would like. Why can’t we just have a solid steel gate, it’d stop all those nosy bastards peering in.

  His daydreaming is interrupted when he sees a small but growing crowd of Gorai Aurelia gathering outside the gate. He knows he’s not allowed to antagonise them, but he cannot suppress a venomous glare that is a mere splinter of his hatred for them. Half the dozen-strong crowd look to be in their mid-teens. They probably don’t know the atrocities committed by the humanists during the war, but they are still tacitly approving them. They should research what they have signed up with.

  Rennin doesn’t like that one of Raddocks Horizon’s busiest streets is barely fifty metres from the front entrance. He personally believes the lab should have been situated well outside the city. But then again he isn’t sure which came first, the lab or the city. Then we can just shoot these pricks and plant some corn.