Frontier by Grace Curtis

Author:Grace Curtis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

I.S.S. NEW DESTINY, IMPERIAL LINER.

LAUNCH SCHEDULED AT 06:00 HOURS ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE YEAR 2515 FROM PLANET EARTH (SEE ‘FINALISED EVACUATION SCHEDULE’)

DESTINATION: SYSTEM 7769.Q (UNNAMED).

ARRIVAL DATE PASSED BY THREE YEARS. NO CONTACT. PRESUMED ENGINE FAILURE.

ALL HANDS LOST.

REPEAT: ALL HANDS LOST.

– Memo, Imperial air force, 2518

Mr Sandwich

New Destiny was a city with another city in its shadow.

One huddled on the ground.

The other rose into the air.

Both lay at the centre of a great plain, surrounded on every side by acres of fields. Corn and wheat, turnips and squash; plant life genetically adapted for difficult terrain. They were spaced out evenly behind barbed wire fences, straining upwards, stems like fingers reaching for the sunshine that cooked them brown and yellow until they sagged back into the soil.

Where did the seeds come from? From the coffers of the New Destiny. And what of the water? Piped in from far below, by the grace of God.

No, not God. By the grace of the High Sheriff.

Those seeds were his. Those fields were his. The New Destiny was his.

Finders keepers.

Crossing through the farmlands – the high stalks buzzing with hidden insects, bric-a-brac road levelled by hooves and tyres and human feet – the New Destiny itself could be seen for the first time. It began as a smudge on the horizon. A mountain, maybe? But no. No mountain could be so geometric.

Then, closer, as dusk came on, the city would flicker to life. Only in the dark could it be seen for what it really was: the shape of it, the lines, hard angles, grids of yellow light stretching up to touch the moon. And at the furthest end – and the highest point – a flash of red. It came and went, once every two seconds. Faint but unmissable. A beacon. The top floor, the seat of power.

The mind buckled at such a sight.

It longed to get closer.

But to even touch the New Destiny’s hull you had to cross the city that surrounded it. Underland, it was called: a scrap metal ghetto with roads of hardened earth, living off siphoned energy from the engines of the old ship – engines that were meant to carry the great vessel to the galaxy’s core. Because the ship lay in a crater, the roads in Underland were all sloped downwards. From the outer edges of the town one could look out over a descending wall of tin rooftops, strung between with laundry and naked electric cables, converging around the sheer wall that was the New Destiny’s base. Gates inside were well-marked – and well-guarded, with steel barriers and bulletproof tollbooths to keep out non-residents.

Most inhabitants of Underland were folk who either wanted to move into the New Destiny, or had been kicked out and couldn’t afford to return. It was limbo; a waiting room, a rubbish heap. Nowhereseville.

Naturally, the only businesses that flourished in Underland were the bars.

The Scavenger was a rathole of some renown. It had much to commend it: proximity to the New Destiny

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