The twins have arrived

ONE

He wasn’t wearing clothes, he was wearing more of what might be called a costume. The costume of a commonplace organic man around any part of the city, maybe be going about an unexceptional errand or two. If anyone cared to think about it then they would most likely conclude his journey to be relatively innocuous. Certainly nothing that would present any serious risk to life or limb. Perhaps he might be heading up to the edges of Heathen City to spend time in reality with organic acquaintances. He didn’t give the impression of a man who this very evening, would be going to Mars with a group of complete strangers. Not a virtual world escapade but in reality itself, exposing himself to all its dangers, instead of some shleps virtual reality mission. He leaned forward as he walked, fists clenched and knuckles facing forward, his powerful arms swinging in step. His case slung over his shoulder hung tight against his hip, Commander Theodore Maxtor was an imposing character with greying beard and even greyer unkempt hair. Brown tired eyes almost hidden by the overhanging eyebrow foliage made to look darker by his rugged eye line and wrinkled ashen skin. Augmented reality advertisements to his left fought for his attention. He continued undeterred by the three-dimensional images moving in his peripheral vision. To his right a wall of glass allowed a panoramic view of large and small mag craft taxiing in and out of their gates. He could see what must be the tail of the shuttle ahead, busy for the last couple of days ferrying general passengers into orbit. Maxtor and his team would be the last human cargo to be ferried up to the Lazarus as she hung patiently in space above them. He grabbed a handrail with his right hand, swinging himself around onto a single-story stairwell leading down to ground level. Drone crews were busying themselves with refuelling and maintenance tasks. The human pilot was standing at the top of the lowered walkway up to the ship. It was a sleek looking passenger vessel with a stub nose and disproportionately large engines, built into the rear end of the body. He felt a blast of heat in his face from tarmac as he approached. The outer edges of its chrome coloured skin were stained and marked with black dust, the wipers had created a clean arc across the filthy windscreen. The Commander skipped up the stairwell leading to an open door and was met by the human pilot at the top. He offered a toothy grin from his weathered face and tapped his forehead in greeting. “Commander Maxtor?” by way of a question as he took an involuntary glance down at his attire. “Yeah,” said the Commander defiantly. “You and your crew are the only passengers on this one, Sir. If you make your way down the cabin you can use the private class facilities. You’ll find it much more comfortable,” he waved a hand pointing between the rows of empty seats. “Thanks,” as he headed off down the wide carpeted aisle. “Commander,” Maxtor turned to look at the man still standing at the far end of the empty shuttle. “The rest of your crew are in the terminal and we should be able to get underway once they’re aboard.” Maxtor nodded and stepped towards the door at the back and it slid open. The room was clean but had an underlying odour pertaining to its recent occupants. A mixture of expensive perfume and alcohol topped off with a slight hint of disinfectant. Across the back wall were refreshment facilities and in the centre was a low table surrounded by large comfortable looking armchairs. As he later found out, they were attached to the floor but could rotate all the same. Each had a white belt which was open but arranged in a cross fashion on the seat. He looked around and found a small luggage rack and strapped his bag in. Better to do it now he thought rather than chasing it around the cabin once they had achieved weightlessness. Over at the back wall he picked up a sealed cup and popped the lid. He placed his hand on a panel on the wall and as he removed it a list of his personal drink preferences appeared. He pushed the cup into the dispenser and pressed number one. The orange fruit tea streamed into it and he sealed it shut again. Throwing the open seat belts to either side he fell into one of the chairs and sipped his drink from the cup which dangled between his thumb and forefinger. To the left of the door was a large screen which showed a map indicating the ships position with the words ‘Welcome Commander Maxtor & Crew’ emblazoned across the centre. The door slid open and in walked a tall slender woman who stood in the doorway panting. Her large hypnotic eyes made more prominent by her dark mascara and long lashes. Skin tight leggings in a million abstract colours were taut over her thighs and an even tighter white top. Despite her tall slender appearance, she was wearing flat shoes. Her jet-black hair looked like it had been hacked into a homemade bob without a mirror. The fringe was skewed upwards from one eye and there was no layering whatsoever. “Commander?” she said, catching her breath. He stood up and greeted her. “Nice to meet you,” she panted. “I’ve heard so much about you.” “Yeah, I guess you might have,” said Maxtor looking her up and down. She looked uncomfortable and ran her hand into her hair and seemed to realise it wasn’t as long as it often had been. Their eyes met for a moment and she started looking around the cabin. “Seiren,” she said. “Seiren White.” “Maxtor,” he said. “Help yourself to a drink the others will be here soon.” He caught her odour as she passed, like patchouli or flowers of some kind. Placing a palm on the screen she likewise popped a cup and slid it under the dispenser. The door slid once more, and two other men entered. The first had a holdall slung over his shoulder and an unlit cigarette between his lips. He stopped dead just inside the doorway and eyed Seiren up and down from behind.