Synthesis by Rexx Deane

Author:Rexx Deane [Deane, Rexx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9931773-0-9
Publisher: Forcefield Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

‘I need to find shelter, quick!’ Aryx could barely hear himself over the deafening storm.

‘Do you have anything with which to cover yourself?’ the cube asked loudly.

Huddling in the lee of a large tree, he pulled the knotted belt undone, releasing the wheelchair from the mobipack. He sat down on the chair, put the cube in his lap, and draped the foil blanket from the survival kit around his shoulders and over the sack of vegetables. ‘I’ve only got this blanket thing, and it’s not going to keep me dry for long – it’s tiny.’ He fished around in the pouch and pulled out the airbag balloon. ‘There’s this, if I can use it as some kind of umbrella.’

‘One moment.’ The lights on the side of the cube flashed randomly.

He waited, getting wetter by the moment as rain ran down his neck.

The lights stopped. ‘I have connected to your pack’s field generator unit. Hold the balloon above your head and do not attempt to stand.’

Aryx held the balloon skin up in the air and the hard rain forced him to close his eyes. A second later, something yanked the balloon from his fingers. The rain stopped stabbing him in the face and a harsh drumming sound replaced it.

He opened his eyes. His legs had gone and the balloon skin was stretched taut between four points in space, forming a shallow tetrahedron above his head.

The cube’s lights stopped flashing. ‘I have reconfigured the field to produce small spheres inside to hold the skin taut.’

‘I hadn’t thought of doing that!’ Aryx said. With creativity like that, maybe the thing really was different.

‘You are welcome. Is the covering sufficient for your needs?’

‘It is, but it’ll be slow going without the legs.’ He gripped the wheelchair rims tightly and, jerking himself sharply backwards, brought the chair up into a wheelie and began to work his way over the knotty ground. The roots made it hard going, but at least the small caster wheels didn’t get caught. While he balanced and rolled along the makeshift tent held its position, moving with the pack as he went. Its skin pooled with water, which sloshed from side to side, but the SI adjusted the position and tipped it off before it became a problem.

The ground turned soft and boggy as they continued, making progress slower, and as the hours crawled by, the sky darkened further. A sharp crack tore through the canopy and the forest lit up, momentarily bleached by a bolt of lightning – a harbinger of many more to come. Aryx’s non-existent legs ached with every rumble and flash; for all the pain it caused, it might as well have been the ITF’s shells raining down on him again. Rain, mud and darkness: as bad a hell as any.

At the flash, the balloon collapsed, draping over his head, and he dropped the front of the chair to the ground.

‘Oi! What’s happening?’ Fumbling around on his lap beneath the folds, he found the cube flashing irregularly.

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