by J. N. Chaney
Warren decided to hold his tongue about the people and where they lived not being important. “No large equipment?”
“No, other than an EV unit, but that’s not what’s on fire. It’s a couple of their houses. They almost have it out but there’s a lot of smoke.”
“It sounds like there’s more than one and they’ve moved on to softer targets,” Warren said, feeling his anger percolate within his metal chassis. “There’s a good chance whoever did it is going to be nearby to watch how we react. Keep an eye on every civilian there. Arrest any you’re suspicious of and hold them until you’re satisfied they’re not a threat. Don’t kill anyone if you can help it, but—”
Warren stopped talking. He was having to repeat himself every time he gave instructions, so he decided to broadcast to every cyborg at once.
“Attention, these are the rules of engagement. Do not kill anyone unless they pose a serious threat to a fellow cyborg, a civilian, or the station. In such a case, use the minimum amount of force necessary to stop the threat, even if it includes immediate execution. We need intel, and we can’t get it from a corpse.”
“Got it,” McNabb said.
After thinking about what needed to be done next, Warren grumbled. He needed Curet again, but the man was working on the EV unit for the hangar. There was no way he could be pulled from it before he was done.
“You there,” Warren said to a squishy hurrying by with a coiled length of thick wire draped over his neck. The man was in his thirties and had intelligent eyes with a dark complexion. He didn’t quail when he approached the cyborg, which gave Warren hope he might be ex-military. “What do you do here in the colony?”
“I’m a culinary engineer.”
Warren had to think about it for a second before he figured out what the man was talking about. “You’re a cook?”
“More or less.” He sounded defensive, like he was waiting for Warren to make a joke about it.
“How long have you lived here?”
“From the start.”
“Good,” Warren said as he led the cook away from anyone who might be listening in. “Which dome contains the most vital equipment to the survival of the colony?”
The man stared blankly at the cyborg for a moment before his face went ashen. “There’s a threat to the colony from within?”
“Yes,” Warren said. “However, we’re keeping it quiet for now. The saboteur might suspect we know, but we haven’t come out and said it. Think hard. Put on your evil thinking cap. If you were going to cause the maximum amount of damage to this place, where would you go and how would you do it?”
Though the man hadn’t exactly proven himself trustworthy, Warren didn’t see anything suspicious in the way the man acted. Besides, getting his ideas might lead to others. Warren was willing to take the risk... for now.
After thinking about it for a few seconds, the cook answered. “That’s easy. Put a hole in the dome. There’s no atmosphere on the planet—or not enough to do anyone any good. Anyone who dies fast will thank their lucky stars. They aren’t one of the ones who will suffer as their eyeballs are sucked from their skulls and their tongues expand to the size of billiard balls.”
“What would someone have to do to crack a dome?” Warren asked.
The cook shrugged. “Hit it with a really big missile or bomb. I mean really big. So big it would fry everyone inside.”
“Besides that, what else?” Warren asked.
While the man thought about it again, Warren came to a realization. With as many people as the Reotians had within the Grand Republic government and military, it would be safe to assume the Republic also had agents on the planet. There could be four, or four dozen. Possibly more. It could be half the population, but there was no way to tell until the spies were unmasked.
“He’d know,” the cook said as he gestured to a brown-haired teenage boy who looked like he was heading somewhere in a hurry.
The kid had to be fifteen years old at most. His curly hair stuck up at weird angles, which made him look more like an ancient satellite with freckles than an expert on counterterrorism.
“This is Linus Targatt,” the cook said, pulling the boy close. “He was born here. And he’s been caught in places he had no business being in more times than I can count. Even more times than his parents know of. Isn’t that right?”
The kid blushed and shot a dirty look at the older man. “You see, I told him I’d keep his secret. That’s why he’s giving me this hard look, which he thinks is going to impress me. But I believe the situation calls for some honesty and information. This kid has been places I’ve forgotten about. Probably recently, too. Isn’t that right?”
“I, uh—” the boy stammered as he blushed a deeper shade of red and glared at the older man.
“Linus will be happy to help you out,” the cook said with a stern look hidden under a wide smile. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to break my promise and kick his ass. Now get to it, boy.”
Linus glared at the man’s back as he walked away. A few seconds later, he turned to the cyborg and lifted his gaze until he was staring straight at Warren’s face.
“Do you have to breathe some kind of special air?” he asked. “I’ve always wanted to ask, you know?”
“I don’t breathe at all,” Warren said. “At least not like you do. So the cook tells me you know your way around here.”
Linus blushed again and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I know a thing or two about this place. There’s not a lot to do around here, so I explore. I don’t cause any trouble, and the stupid rules they’ve got set up for where we can go don’t make any sense anyway.”
“Whoa,” Warren said, gesturing for the boy to stop. “I’m not here to bust your chops. I have some questions, since you seem to be the person with the knowledge I’m looking for.”
“What kind of questions?” he asked, his face betraying his suspicion.
“Like, if you wanted to cause some serious trouble in the colony, what would you do and where would you do it?”
“How serious?” Linus asked, straightening with interest.
“Deadly serious. Take out the dome serious.”
The boy thought about it for a bit and looked around. “The EV systems, I guess,” he finally said.
“I’ve already discussed that idea with the cook.”
Linus grinned and hooked his thumbs into his coveralls. “Even the spares?”
There it was. “What spares?”
“In the warehouse. All the way in the back. There are whole systems back there. They’re in boxes mislabeled as food. They’re all covered in dust. Some friends and I went looking one time—you know, out of curiosity. That’s all, not to cause any real trouble. We just like knowing things.”
“Go on,” Warren said, motioning with a hand.
“So yeah, full units ready to go. Six of them. If I were going to cause some real trouble, I’d disable one or two of the ones that are being used, but not until I took care of the spares.”
“Does anyone else know about the ones you found?” Warren asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Like I said, those boxes have been there a long time. They’ve got a layer of dust this thick on top.” He held up his thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart.
Destroying the backups made sense. It’s what the enemy had already proven they wanted to do in the first place by sabotaging the printers.
“How would you know if they were messed with?” the kid asked.
“I’ll have to send someone to them to inspect for tampering,” Warren explained.
Linus zeroed in on that bit of information. “Oh, is that what happened?”
Warren sighed, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that. “Yes, that’s what happened.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? You know, maybe keep an eye on things and tell you if I see anyone screwing around in places they shouldn’t be? Except me, of course.”
Warren laughed. He liked the k
id. In fact, he liked him enough to want to keep him from getting involved. If he spotted a spy, there was a good chance that person would try to kill him to keep him quiet.
Then again, he’d had a lot of practice sneaking around. Also, if someone destroyed the place, he’d be one of the people who would suffer. He had a stake in finding their enemies—at least as much as Warren.
“Yes, there is something you can do,” Warren said slowly as he formed the rest of his thought. “But only if you want to. If you think you can handle it.”
Linus’s eyebrows went up and he leaned in conspiratorially. “Whatcha got?”
“I need my own spy, and I have a feeling you might be just the right person.”
“What makes you say that?” Linus asked, leaning away.
“People ignore you, for the most part, right?”
“Yeah, so? People always ignore young people.”
“Exactly,” Warren said. “I’ll assign you to a task that will look like I’m just trying to keep you busy. It’ll be something boring, but it’ll get you access to every single part of the colony. You’ll have free reign, but you must stick to the plan.”
“What plan?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open. That’s the plan. Oh, and don’t screw around with anything you don’t understand. If you think you see something I need to know about, you can tell me or the cyborg named Lukov. He’s my security chief. I’ll tell him I’ve hired you, if you’re up to it.”
“My parents won’t like this,” he said. “Not one bit. They don’t like me exploring or getting involved in anything. Which is why I’m doing it.” His wicked grin was infectious.
“Stay out of harm’s way whenever possible,” Warren said. “Don’t confront anyone you suspect. Come tell us, and we’ll do the dirty work.”
“I could use some help,” Linus said. “The colony’s a big place, you know?”
Warren nodded. “Anyone you trust?”
“I’ve got some friends,” Linus said. “We like to explore together. I can tell them what I’m up to and see if they’ll help.”
Warren thought about it for a moment. Having more than one spy would help, but who could he trust? Surely a bunch of kids weren’t involved with the enemy.
“I’ll let you decide who to tell about this,” Warren decided. “Now, your task is to inventory everything that isn’t nailed down. Get one of these data pads I see people running around with. Get one for each person you trust. I want to know what our assets are. Everything down to the last box of spare screws.”
“Yes sir!” Linus said and hurried away.
“Lukov,” Warren transmitted on a private channel. “We now have a spy network of our own.”
18
As Warren watched the boy hurry away, he noticed several people glance at nearby air vents and breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed Curet had gotten the EV system back online. Carbon dioxide was being scrubbed from the air. Nitrogen levels were being adjusted. Whatever toxins might be coming up from the dirt and rock of the planet’s surface were being swept away. The day was saved, for now.
“Are you Warren?” a young woman said as she ran up to the cyborg, halting about ten meters away. It looked like she was worried about getting any closer.
Warren did his best not to seem intimidating. “I am.”
“Mason Curet wanted me to tell you he got the EV system back online. He wanted me to show you this, too.” She handed Warren a small device. It was as thin, translucent green, and had so many lines cut into it, the thing scattered light like a multi-faceted prism.
“What is it?” Warren asked as he held it up to the light.
The girl looked at him with an expression that made it clear she thought he was an idiot. “It’s a circuit board. From the EV unit. Mason said this one is different, though. It’s a fake. It was designed to fail as soon as it received a signal of some kind. He called it a kill code. He said it would take hours to find out what the code was, but if you want, he’ll get started on it.”
“Is there any advantage to finding the code?” Warren asked, still peering through the device.
The woman shrugged. “None I can think of, unless the code is a phrase or something that might help identify who planted the fake. It’s probably just a series of numbers, though. Something anonymous.”
“Thank him for me,” Warren said, dismissing her with a nod.
He turned the device over in his hand several times, then opened a private channel to Lukov. “The EV unit was taken out by a counterfeit circuit board. It’s back online now. One of the Reotian techs found the bad one and replaced it. The board was designed to receive a signal to shut the unit down. They know enough to do this and get away with it. I know you’re stretched thin, but we have to deal with this.”
“It is no problem. I can recruit people to assist. How did they smuggle counterfeit components here?”
Warren said as he stared at the nearby printer. “It’s likely they built them right here under everyone’s noses. All they would need to bring in is the plans.”
“Ah,” Lukov said. “The printers. Yes, agreed. We will find them.”
Curet and his team walked up a few seconds later. “Easy enough,” he announced.
“How’d you fix it?” Warren asked, a little surprised to see them so soon.
“All I did was replace the hacked board with a new one. It looks like the saboteur wants to use this place later. It was designed to shut down, not destroy anything.”
“How many spare boards do you have?” Warren asked.
“None,” Curet admitted. “We just print what we need.”
“Then get some spares. We don’t know if or when they’ll target these things again. Make some spares—at least one per EV unit. Then hide them. I don’t want anyone getting to them.”
“Good idea,” Curet replied. He nodded to a woman standing next to him. She returned the gesture and headed to the other side of the hangar. “Anything else?”
“We have a problem,” Cooper transmitted to Warren in a private channel.
Warren held up a finger in the universal sign that meant “wait a second” while he spoke with the other cyborg. “What’s the problem, Cooper?”
“The sensors are down. The idiots have one sensor array for the whole damned planet.”
“How down?” Warren asked.
“What do you mean ‘how down?’” Cooper snapped. “Down enough. Maybe completely broken. I’ve got nothing. We’re running blind here. Can’t tell if there are any incoming ships. There could be an armada showing right now, and we’d have no way to tell. I don’t even know if the guns will be able to shoot them down without the sensors.”
“I have an expert standing right in front of me,” Warren said. “Let me get back to you.”
“Sensors are down,” Warren advised Curet. “We’re vulnerable without them. Will the guns still find targets without the sensors?”
The engineer muttered a curse before responding. “They’ll function, but it’s going to make targeting a lot more difficult. Really difficult, in fact. How many are deployed?”
“No more than seven,” Warren said after checking.
“That’s enough for a single ship—maybe two. It depends on who’s invading and what they bring. I’ll head there now with the team.”
“Any chance you have a spare sensor array sitting around somewhere?” Warren asked.
Curet shook his head and frowned. “We never thought about it,” he said. “It’s underground—safe from bombs. It had to be an inside job. You need to find who’s behind this. There’s no telling what they’ll hit next.”
He turned to his team, gave them a quick set of instructions, and hurried away. Each of those with him scattered in different directions.
“What are we doing?” Cooper asked, his voice a low growl. “Talk to me, boss.”
“I’ve got a repair team on the way,” Warren replied. “Listen—I need you to keep a cool head. Part of terrorism is causing terr
or. The worst thing we can do is fight among ourselves or make rash choices. If we do, they win.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he said again. “It’s just... we’ve come so far. It’s like they knew we’d free ourselves and they wanted to make sure they took us all out once our support was gone. Damn, do we have anyone protecting the ship?”
“Yeah,” Warren replied, realizing it had been a while since he’d checked on Craig. “Let me get a status on that. Stand by.”
“Craig,” he said after opening a private channel. “How are things on the ship?”
“This place is locked down.” He sounded like he was in good spirits. “Nothing happening here, so I’m going through everything.”
“Keep up the good work,” Warren instructed. “Let me know if you find anything you think is proof positive. If any of the crew we brought back to the planet is a spy, I want to know.”
“You got it, boss,” Craig said.
“Ship’s secure,” Warren transmitted to Cooper. “I’ve got Craig going through it now. He says he’s done a thorough inspection, and now he’s checking the personal effects of the crew.”
“Smart thinking there,” Cooper commented. “Our maintenance people just showed up. Honcho’s name is Mason Curet. Ring a bell?”
“That’s him,” Warren said. “Put him to work. How bad is it?”
“Hold on a sec—I might be able to show you.”
Warren wondered what he was talking about until a new icon appeared in the top corner of Warren’s HUD. When he focused on it, the little square turned into a picture-in-picture display of what Cooper was seeing.
“Did it work?” Cooper asked.
“Yeah,” Warren said. He was looking through the other cyborg’s eyes at a room filled with smoke and the penetrating glare of flashlights. It looked like there had been a fire, but it was out.
“Why haven’t we done this before?” Warren asked.
“Tried,” Cooper said. “But my compulsion chip zapped me when I did. Right now the icon is blinking like crazy. It’s got to be something we were designed to do, but someone higher up in the food chain decided it would be too much power for us or something.”
