Part 13: Blast from the Past

Chapter 11: Blast from the Past



The natives had done a great job of restoring this old jet scooter to working order. It was fast, manoeuvrable, and definitely a whole lot more fun than teleportation. Yes, it was a real pity people didn't get the chance to ride around in these any more.

"These seats smell funny," Nei complained.

"There's not much I can do about that," I said. "It's spent who knows how long in a garbage dump, after all. Hopefully it'll improve once it's had a while to air out."

"Try packing some seaweed under your seat," Hugh suggested. "It won't take the smell away, but it should disguise it with the smell of the sea. Just remember to throw it back into the sea when you get out so it doesn't rot."

I set a course to the east. Now that I had a means of travelling across the ocean, there was something I wanted to see. Maybe it was foolish to want to go back there after all these years, and after what had happened there, but... I had to know if it was as I remembered it. I had to know if my memory was reliable.



Even at sea, we weren't safe from Biomonsters. The Whirly was a protoplasmic Biomonster with regenerative powers: it quickly healed itself of any damage we inflicted, making it difficult to kill.



The Pug Hit and its much stronger cousin the Pug Brat were large ocean-dwelling crustaceans with powerful pincers. They crawled up out of the ocean and onto the jet scooter every so often, forcing us to fight them off at close quarters.



The Terakite was a heavily-armoured flying Biomonster with fiery breath. Its larger relative the Reptile could also discharge electricity from its body to attack us all at once. Bladed weapons were minimally effective against them: only Hugh's acidshots and my techniques did significant damage.



We landed the jet scooter in the southeastern corner of the continent.

"Shouldn't we be looking for the Maruera tree?" Anna asked. "We have a job to do, after all."

"All in good time, Anna. There's somewhere I have to visit first. It's personal."

Anna nodded understandingly.



The walk to Piata was long and filled with dangerous Biomonsters. Fanbites could kill instantly with their poisonous bite: it wasn't hard to avoid if you saw it coming, but fighting one always put me on edge.



Finally, here we were in Piata. I barely recognised it; it was far from the bustling metropolis of my childhood memory. Maybe it just looked bigger when I was small.



Or maybe it had fallen into decline with the end of space travel.



Tragedy affected everyone differently. To some, the crash of 10 years ago, when space travel was banned, was the end of their careers. To others, it meant losing contact with friends and family on Palm or Dezo.

To me, it was the accident in which I'd lost my parents.



The passenger ship my parents had been on had collided en route to Dezo with an exploration vessel headed out of the Algo system. There were no survivors.



I was going to be on that flight, but I was pulled off at the last minute. I don't even remember why my parents went and I didn't. Why? Why couldn't I remember what happened that day? Why couldn't I remember what I was doing when I heard the news of the crash? All I remembered of that day was brief flashes of a second or two at a time, and none of them made sense.

Some of what felt like memories could only have come from watching news footage of the crash. I could clearly see the inside of the spaceship. I remember seeing the inside of the cabin turn red, and hearing a siren. Then, the sound of tearing metal and air rushing out...

I remembered it all as if I'd been there myself. But I couldn't possibly have been on board that spaceship. There were no survivors.

All I know for sure is that I woke up in hospital on the night of the crash. The doctors said I was in shock, that I'd remember when I was ready. But I desperately wanted to remember, and yet even after ten years, everything was still a blur. Nothing made sense. Nothing.



I couldn't answer that. I knew all the standard responses -- the humans who implement Mother Brain's plans are imperfect, accidents happen, everybody has to die some day -- but those were responses, not answers. Many of the people of Piata had lost loved ones in that crash. To them, and to me, responses weren't enough.

All the responses in the world meant nothing in the face of the unanswerable questions we all asked ourselves. Why? Why that flight, on that day, at that time? Why my family, and not me? Why not some other family entirely?

And if I hadn't been on that flight, why did I remember holding my mother's hand all the way to the departure gate?



Even after all these years, going back to Piata had awakened memories I wasn't ready to cope with. There were no answers for me here. I needed time to think. I needed to go home. Rudo would understand, if nobody else would.

When I got home, Kain was lying on my couch, drooling into the upholstery and snoring his head off. Amy was sitting quietly at the table reading a book.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

Amy shrugged. "Kain was being his usual self, so for the sake of getting some peace and quiet around here I got him a beer or two. Or, well, eleven." She grinned sheepishly. "It worked, didn't it?"

"That's easy for you to say, but he's passed out on my couch. Where's Rudo?"

"He's hunting Biomonsters, but he'll be back soon. Oh, and we had another new visitor while you were out."



The noise of our conversation had literally raised Kain. He looked up groggily, yawned, rubbed his eyes, then felt around in his pockets.

"Hey!" he slurred irritably. "Who the fuck stole my cigarettes?"