Scarlet Wings
Geryon's Code Cycle | The Orphaned Earth | Chapter 10
Ivan Vassilevsky, September 7, 2192
I was leaving Zachariah Glass’s workshop when a kid of about sixteen nearly barreled into me—messy black curls, rough, broad features. Had to be Jukka, the one whose name the old man had let slip a little too carelessly. The guy spat a quick “Sorry,” then hurried inside, clutching a lunchbox that gave off a mouthwatering scent.
A second later, Zachariah’s creaky falsetto rang out—not just across the shop, but probably half the level.
Of all the insults he lobbed at the poor kid, “nut-scratcher,” “fish brains,” and “dog’s gangrene” were the mildest. If I’d dared peek back in, I’d bet good credits I’d have seen the old man dragging his assistant around by the hair.
I figured it was best to scram before Jukka’s brain managed to link my face to Zachariah’s outburst. However, I had a feeling I’d be working with the kid soon enough.
Back at the hotel, a surprise was waiting: a handwritten invitation from Heldrich himself, summoning me to tonight’s show at Scarlet Wings: real paper, delicate loops in tight, ornate script. I’d expected to spend days searching through back channels to land a meeting. Instead, my target had made the first move.
The message wasn’t hard to read between the lines: Whoever you are, dear guest, you're in my hands. I know where you sleep, and I set the pace…
I wondered if he’d already caught wind of my little acquisition.
I wrapped the glove in a scrap of cloth, buried it deep in my backpack, and piled the rest of my gear on top. Then I sent a radio ping to Rakhmanov: Diamond found; owner’s fate unknown.
The reply came fast, as expected: Keep digging.
Without quantum comms, messaging was slow. I’d have killed to beam a quick holo of the glove straight to Heliopolis. But Rakhmanov had made it clear: don’t stir up attention from Solveig.
Heldrich had scheduled the meeting for seven p.m., and I had time to kill. Not expecting Jack back anytime soon, I headed to the White Mermaid—this time, to ask the redheaded bartender a few questions about Zachariah Glass and his relationship with the city boss.
I eased into the topic, starting with repairs. Said someone had recommended Zachariah, a solid craftsman, the kind even Heldrich used to trust with his gear—at least, once.
“For years, he’s had no more orders from the boss,” Squirrel replied while sorting tableware. “Even his goons stopped bringing their guns around. Zachariah was livid. His young apprentice gets his brain picked from dawn till dusk. If I were in his shoes, I’d have clocked the old goat with a hammer or hanged myself by now.”
“Quite the character,” I nodded. “So Heldrich found someone better, huh? Maybe I should bring them my gear.”
A grizzled fisherman in the corner, mustache like seaweed, let out a dry laugh over a greasy chunk of seal meat.
“Fat chance! If Heldrich found someone better, he sure as hell ain’t sharing.”
“Huh, can people keep secrets in Seven Winds?”
“More skeletons on Pine Island than closets!” he rasped.
“Oh, Barry, you’re full of it,” Squirrel, shaking her head. “It’s simpler. Zachariah’s crooked. Got the street kids stealing for him. Heldrich doesn’t hang him cause—well—folks with that kind of know-how don’t grow on trees.”
“Come on. Since when does Heldrich pity anyone enough not to hang them?” I pushed.
They all hissed at once, like I’d said the name too loudly at the wrong table.
“A couple of years back—maybe three?—A satellite fell into the ocean,” Squirrel went on. “Word is, Glass snatched the whole damn thing.”
“A satellite?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “What’s that?”
“You are from the sticks, huh?” she said, eyeing me. “It’s a wandering star.”
“Liar!” I laughed. Things were going exactly where I needed them to.
“Plenty of folks saw it!” she shot back, heated. “It sounded like thunder!”
“My brother was out night fishing,” Barry chimed in. “Said two boats chased it. No clue what they hauled up or where it went.”
“And he didn’t go?” I asked.
“Not a chance.” Barry tugged his mustache. “Biggest coward in town. Says space junk brings nothing but bad luck, though he’s never seen any himself. Hey, Squirrel, remember Kat? That eye candy Jack brought in to work for you? Didn’t you have trouble with Heldrich ‘cause of her?”
Squirrel’s face drained of color.
“Don’t listen to him,” she whispered, leaning across the bar, close as the old counter would let her. “He talks nonsense when he drinks... I’ve never had any trouble with Heldrich. None. Want something to eat?”
“Sure. Mussels. Just skip the garlic sauce, alright?”
“For the record,” Barry muttered, sulking. “I was drinking water.” He shuffled off.
“So... who was the beauty?” I asked once Squirrel had shouted the order to the kitchen. “Maybe I know her.”
“Doubt it,” Squirrel said, grim. “Jack told you about her yesterday. Her name was Kat. About your height, quite strong and stunning, though it pains me to admit it. Moved like a dancer. Scarlet Wings snatched her up on her third day here. And then... she vanished.”
The girl leaned over the counter, giving me a clear view down the neckline of her blouse. I had to admire the effort, and offered her a smile in return. Funny how the day wasn’t even over, and already so many curious little details had come to light. Details that might lead us to the Martians—or to their grave.
After lunch, I wandered the ocean-facing streets, letting the stink of that greasy diner fade from my hair and clothes. When the fire bell next to the helipad rang at six-thirty, I made my way toward the cabaret, wondering what surprises Heldrich had in store for me that evening.
Scarlet Wings was in Eden—the part of the city that, half a century ago, was open only to residents and guests with club cards or engraved invites. Somehow, that twisted old tradition had survived the end of the world. The “rich man’s pleasures” that didn’t rely on steady electricity had limped into the new age.
Of course, “rich” in Antarctica had taken on a new meaning. It now meant cunning traders, big-time growers, lucky gold hunters, and sharp-eyed craftsmen. The old elite—pre-Blackout billionaires who never lifted a finger in their empires—lost everything in a heartbeat. They vanished fast, selling off their wives’ earrings... and eventually, their wives.
Eden was brutally walled off from the rest of the city— sand sacks and crates fused with construction foam. A crude but effective border. Not everyone got through.
The cabaret’s doors were a pair of three-meter-tall folded wings made of ruby glass plates. When someone approached, they opened theatrically, casting shimmering reflections from tiny hidden bulbs. I couldn’t help but admire the engineering—had Zachariah restored it? But this time, the doors didn’t open on their own. I had to ring the bell. For a while.
Eventually, they opened—slowly, like someone had gummed up the gears with old glue. Still, the sluggishness gave me time to admire the wingspan, and silently shake the hand of the long-dead engineer who designed them.
A trail of flickering floor lights led me inside, past mirrored walls. The wings closed behind me much faster, with a metallic clang that made my skin crawl.
Behind the second door, a doorman waited. I handed over Heldrich’s invitation. Wordlessly, he let me through.
I entered a vast hall laced with incense and the ghostly sound of a real grand piano—something I’d only heard in digitized recordings. The instrument was out of tune, clearly, but the magic wasn’t dulled. A blonde in a shimmering dress swayed lazily atop a silver crescent moon, swinging under an electric spotlight.
There were maybe twenty people inside. Some lounged on low couches, puffing on hookahs filled with anything but tobacco. Others clustered at the bar, swapping stories about gold hunters who vanished in the Silver Palace—the maze of old mines out east.
They didn’t exactly match the elegance of the room: sun-scorched faces, belts with knives, eyes always watching. The only difference was cleaner skin, maybe a splash of Golden Age fashion, and too many rings glittering under red lamps.
A soft hand touched my shoulder. I turned.
A dark-skinned lady, fragrant and nearly nude—except for clear platform heels and a bra-and-skirt set made entirely of pearl strands. Her curvy body looked as if sculpted by tides.
For a few seconds, my brain went blank. Then the dumbest thought hit me: She must be freezing. I almost reached to drape a coat over her shoulders.
“I’ll escort you, Mr. Vassilevsky,” she said in a practiced purr. Her hand slid around my arm like a snake. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had pressed herself against me.
The rhythmic clink of pearls echoed as we climbed a spiral staircase, two floors up, into a windowless room lit by colored-glass lamps.
Heldrich was already there, smoking a tall hookah. He didn’t remove his dark glasses, even in the dim light. He rose slowly to shake my hand.
That face... I was sure I’d seen it before. But where? I’d never been to Seven Winds. Jack said Heldrich rarely left Pine Island. Then again—how well did Jack really know?
“Mr. Vassilevsky, thanks for making such a long way to join us,” he said smoothly. “To travel from New Bergen, you must have big intentions.”
“That’s right,” I replied, studying his face. “I want to set up a lab to produce medicines. I’ve got the raw materials, the formulas—even some intact equipment for DNA modeling and seed irradiation. What I don’t have enough of is electricity. Since the Blackout, our turbines spin for nothing. But you… You’ve got the power.”
I gestured toward the constellation of colored lamps overhead.
The girl in pearls had slunk to a chaise just behind me, where the light barely reached, and went stone-still. A bodyguard in disguise. Whatever weapon she had wasn’t in that bra.
“Care for a smoke?” Heldrich nodded at the second hose.
“Better not,” I sighed. “Same fight that cost me the eye also scrambled my head. Tried smoking after, and my family hid in the basement for hours.”
Heldrich didn’t press. He picked up his hose with his left hand. Odd—never met a left-handed surgeon, though I knew an ambidextrous one.
“How long’s your business been around?”
“Business?” I chuckled. “If only. My mother, may she rest, loathed to talk about our collection. She sewed clothes to survive while preserving a treasure. I begged her to let me make use of spores, mycelia, everything... Wouldn’t budge. Took me a month to work up the nerve to come here. Another three, stuck in storms.”
“Cautious like your mom, huh?” He smirked.
“Maybe. Anyone with sense would be. You own the power, the ground, the guns. Anyone in my shoes would think twice. Forgive the honesty.”
Heldrich leaned back and let out a dry laugh.
“As long as you’re not trying to hoax me or plot against my city, you are safe. Ask around. The ones I value? They can’t complain that I tax them heavily. But trust like that doesn’t come cheap. So what did you do before this little inheritance?”
“Scavenged rare metals and reagents. Sold to doctors, blacksmiths, and traders. Hell of work—finds get rarer, other scavengers get meaner.”
He nodded when I scratched the brow above my eye patch.
“A man who takes risks like that, but wouldn’t cross his mother.” His voice was dead-flat.
“Who crosses family?” I said, feigning surprise. Irony, of course—I’d done exactly that when I was young. “Who else do we have on this frozen rock?”
“I admire that,” Heldrich said, finally offering a real smile. “People with principles are welcome here.”
They look like easy prey, don’t they? I thought.
“Had a chance to see the city?” my host asked.
“Only the top levels.”
“Below’s not worth your time. Flooded, damp, sealed. Keeps the rats out.”
It will be hard to sneak into the Nautilus sector anytime soon. Good to know.
“Any open spots for a lab?” I asked. “Looks like space isn’t a problem.”
“Pine Island has medical facilities sitting unused. They’d suit your needs perfectly.”
I blinked. First Jack, then Barry, warned how tightly he guarded Pine Island. And he was inviting me in at such a short notice?
“Didn’t expect this kind of trust,” I muttered, genuinely thrown off. His smile said he knew it.
“Sandy, can you bring some tea?” he said. The girl slid away like a ghost.
“If you came with samples, Ivan, I’d like to have a look at them. Now or later.”
“Sure thing,” I drew a chilled mini-container from my coat. “This one’s Samaritan—an alga that cleans wounds, prevents inflammation. Procyon—bioluminescent fungus. Glows like a small LED lamp for six hours.”
I lit the corner where his bodyguard had been. Heldrich replied with a short nod.
“Brighter than anything growing out there in the wild. It even grows on rusted metal,” I added.
“What else?”
“Fast-ripening soy. Germinates in three days, flowers on the fourth. Thrives on saltwater. Flavor’s... passable.”
His lips twitched. His fingers briefly clenched the chair arm.
“Can I have it?”
“Five beans.” I handed over a capsule. He rolled it in his fingers and slid it into a pocket.
“Tela Aurea—Golden Web,” I said, placing another vial in his hand. “A fungus that produces golden-colored tissue. Its extract causes full muscle relaxation. Like curare.”
“Tested it?”
“Rats, dogs… myself. Shelf life is three days, no longer.”
“Ah, that’s sad. And the last one?”
“Chlorophyta opium. Kind of chlorella, but not for food. If processed right, it’s a painkiller.”
What I didn’t say: the activator required for it only came from Winged Sun. Right now, I wasn’t going to spill the beans.
“I’ll need a day or two to test your samples,” Heldrich said. I still practice medicine when I can. Always nice to drag one back from the reaper.”
“And how many have you dragged back?”
“Four, since the clan war ended. Old stump Lauri—gangrene, leg gone. Then a girl, pregnant from who-knows-who, tried taking her life by poison. The baby was doomed. But the girl? She’s a star at Scarlet Wings.”
“Shall we see her tonight?”
“Don’t rush it,” he said mysteriously. “Hopefully, it’s not your last visit."
He never mentioned the other two lives he saved: Sandy placed a tea tray before us. On the edge of each saucer sat a cluster of brown, irregularly shaped sugar crystals. They were made from a rare strain of algae, cultivated in New Beijing. The Chinese sold it for only slightly less than gold. I had a small stash of the stuff myself—used as currency for greasing the wheels.
I used the moment to start testing the waters.
“Rumor has it that the Pine Island is still functional… if the reactor gets restarted.”
“Many say they’ve seen the sea devil,” Heldrich smirked. “Let’s say you did restart the reactor—what then? Control systems, navigation? Dead for years. And if I knew how to siphon electricity from the Pine Island to Seven Winds, this city would already be a shining jewel of the Golden Age, right here in Antarctica.”
“And just imagine how furious the Moon Cross would be,” I said, taking a sip. “The City of Sin running full throttle on ‘demonic’ energy.”
“And now we have to think about that rabble, too,” he grunted. “Them and these Lost Kids. Wonder if your mom stashed a machine gun or a microwave cannon somewhere…”
“I know people who might have.”
“Jeez, the Mizrahi were idiots to fall out with New Bergen.”
For the first time, Heydrich’s voice took on a genuinely friendly tone. And I let myself enjoy the drink which tasted like genuine tea from a pre-Blackout supply. Unbelievable.
That’s when I noticed the white-metal watch on Heldrich’s right wrist.
Soviet, mechanical. Navigator brand. I knew at least one person who used to wear the same model. The leather strap looked newer—roughly made, probably local. Now it wasn’t the time to ask. Building trust was going to take time.
“People say, you’ve gotten friendly with the March guy…”
Not that we’d tried too hard to keep it quiet. Especially not after that drunken night.
“I’ve got this strange habit—throwing life rings to drowning men. And Jack? He’s a walking guidebook to Seven Winds and everything beyond. Knows more amusing stories than a dog has fleas.”
“You know, this genius fed my men—and cargo—to the filthy dog riders…”
“Jack seemed an honest man to me,” I replied, evenly. “And out there, with weapons short and road law thinner than air, things happen.”
“What kind of stories did he feed you?”
“One was about how a falling satellite nearly crushed Seven WInds. And when fishermen found it at sea, there were dead men inside.”
Heldrich took a long gulp of tea.
“That guy…” he said with a strained sort of calm. “Satellites are built to burn up in the atmosphere, or drown in the ocean—who wants tech ending up in the wrong hands? I sent a boat out there, just in case. But they recovered no debris, everything drowned.”
No debris, of course, I thought. Cause your finding must’ve been alive.
When there was no tea and sugar left, Heldrich rose and took his leave, promising to invite me to Pine Island in a day or so and show me a place that I could use as a lab.
For now, I had a choice: stick around and watch the dancers, or head back to the hotel to meet Jack. I was eager to see at least a part of the show, but the smoke from Heldrich’s hookah made me dizzy, my eye was sore. So I went to take some fresh air, walking straight into a shouting match.
A hulking cabaret bouncer was barking at a blonde girl. She was tall, solidly built, but clearly young.
“I told you—come back Wednesday!” the man snapped. “There’s a show tonight! Madame Lambrequin doesn’t have time for strays!”
“Langeron, not Lambrequin, you fishhead,” she shot back. “Maybe I just want to watch the show!”
“Hah! Don’t tell me you’ve got money. Beat it! Last thing we need is decent folks seeing some ragged stray hanging around.”
Bitterly shaking her head, the girl turned away and spotted me.
“Sir! Could you spare a sugar crystal for a place to sleep? I’m not from here, and soup alone costs a fortune.”
“Holy sunshine! How’d you end up here with no money?” I asked, gently steering her away from the gate.
“Need to feed my family somehow. My mom’s legs are bad—caught a chill in her joints. I want to dance at Scarlet Wings, make a name for myself.”
“Shooting for the stars, huh.”
“Well yeah, I don’t have skills. I know that. But a person can learn anything, right?”
“It’s a matter of time, lady. I’m Ivan. You?”
“Nevis.”
“That’s a man’s name, isn’t it?”
She shrugged with charming nonchalance.
“Mom and Dad wanted a boy.”
“Sorry. I was rude…”
She answered with a smile as warm as a sunbeam. Her golden hair spilling from her parka’s hood was striking—though not more striking than late Helga’s had been.
“Hungry?” I asked. The parade of beauties at Scarlet Wings had clearly rekindled some buried taste for romance in me.
“My stomach’s stuck to my spine,” Nevis said bluntly.
“White Mermaid okay with you? At least, they don’t have a goddamn dress code.”
“Oh! Hang on a sec.”
She stepped closer and plucked a stray hair off my sleeve. A nice gesture—even if it wasn’t entirely selfless.
Someone was coming toward us, and I recognized the gait before I even saw the face. Jack. Damn it. Maybe he’d found something worth sharing out in Outland.
But what happened next threw me.
The moment he saw me—and maybe Nevis—he froze like he’d hit a wall.
“Gangrene!” he swore under his breath. “Sir, can I talk to you a moment? Matter of life and death!”
“One minute,” I told the girl, and turned to Jack. “What is it?”
He didn’t even answer—just grabbed my sleeve and dragged me fifteen meters down the street like his heels were on fire.
“Ivan, that thing… That creature… It can cause big trouble!”
“She looks quite nor...”
“Just listen! You sent me to Outland to look for weird shit, right? I’m telling you—she’s the shit.”
“Dammit,” I muttered, spinning back toward where Nevis had been.
Too late.
She was already gone—bolting down the so-calles Emerald Alley.
See Book 1: No Life but Immortality
Picture: Asen Glavlev