by Rob Dearsley
The gravity shifted beneath Arland’s feet, she stumbled and would have gone down if it weren’t for the guard’s iron-hard grip.
“You can go now.”
Arland couldn’t recognise the voice through the muffling of the bag, but the imperious tone of a Spook was unmistakable.
The hood was pulled off her face, leaving her momentarily blinded by the light. Instinctively, she pulled back, stumbling and sitting down hard.
“It’s okay.” The Spook, the one with the broken nose, grabbed her shoulders, leaning in until his face filled her vision. “Shauna, it’s okay. It’s me, Maddix.”
Arland studied the Spook’s face, she could see Maddix’s eyes, his intensity. “Sir?”
“I can’t stay long. I need your help. I convinced them to talk to you, that persuading you to their ideas is the first step. That’s your chance. End them, please.”
Still stunned, Arland didn’t know what to make of it. Her mind still reeled from meeting Maddix again. “Them?”
“The Binaries. I have to go.” The Spook’s face rippled and Maddix was gone.
The Spook pushed up and away from her, movements jerky and erratic, the whites of his eyes flashing.
Guards rushed up, one grabbing Arland and hauling her to her feet. “Sir? Did she do something to you?”
The Spook’s eyes went distant for a moment. “It’s nothing, just an outlier.”
While the guards eyed the Spook with a mixture of concern and suspicion, Arland glanced around, taking in her surroundings.
A pair of monorail tracks stretched down the centre of the large cylindrical passage. If Arland’s guess was right, they were in the station’s main crew-way. The single compartment that ran the length of the station’s centre. The passage they must have come in by sloped outward behind and above them. Other passages dipped into the otherwise unbroken cylinder at semi-regular intervals.
The low whine of an electric motor drew Arland’s attention to an approaching monorail cart. Its concave bed hung from the tracks.
The Spook turned and climbed up into the cart. “Bring her.”
◊◊
Optical enhancements on the Folly’s HUD allowed Dannage to track the Jean-Luke. She continued her search for them around the old refinery. The only problem was that it put them down-spin from the Garrison, potentially giving the SDF ship a clear field of fire as the Folly made her final hop to the Garrison.
Was there a way to lure them off without exposing themselves? He kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. They should have planned something.
“Cap’n, another slipway’s opening.”
The wash of blue from the slipway was immediately obscured by the bulk of the Reclaimer. The Jean-Luke pivoted off her search track to intercept the much larger ship.
Luc looked up from his console. “I’m picking up a lot of com traffic between the two ships.”
Dannage hoped he could get to his friends before the Reclaimer caught up to them. Hopefully, the Jean-Luke’s captain could hold them off. He didn’t have time to dwell anyway, this would be his only chance to get to the station. To get to Arland.
Dannage hit the engines.
The SDF ship either didn’t notice or didn’t care, Dannage wasn’t bothered which, as long as it stayed that way. He flashed the thrusters, matching the Folly to the orbit and slight rotation of the station. Getting a good seal against the F18 bay doors would be awkward enough without being shot at.
With their attitudes matched, Dannage pivoted his ship up, watching on the underside cams as they closed with the cargo bay. His knuckles whitened against the flight stick and he held his breath. It was all about finesse here, any sudden moves could slam the Folly against the station. A touch to the right, and the landing indicators showed green.
Arm tense, he corrected for the slight tumble of the station, and then they closed the last couple of metres. A hollow clunk reverberated through the Folly. They were down.
Flicking the mag-locks and expansion seals on, Dannage let out his breath and relaxed
“Come on, Cap’. Let’s get in there.” Luc clapped him on the shoulder before heading to the cargo bay.
Right, no time to relax yet. Now came the hard part.
◊◊
Dannage held on to the cargo webbing as the Folly’s doors opened. He tensed, ready to hit the override. If the seal didn’t hold, the whole ship would vent in seconds and Dannage had no desire to experience decompression again.
There was no alarm, no rushing of air. He relaxed his grip and looked down through the widening gap between the Folly’s doors to the scarred hull of the station beneath.
“Jax says it’s about half a metre thick, but shouldn’t be armoured.” Luc hauled a long, tubular piece of equipment out from its storage locker.
Luc swung the long device around in front of him and set it down on the deck. Dannage kicked off the console and drifted over. He grabbed a pair of thick cables and began plumbing the plasma cutter into the ship’s power grid. When he looked around, Luc had a protective helmet and gloves on.
Luc gave him the thumbs up and Dannage turned away, screwing his eyes closed. Even though his closed lids, he could see the reflected brilliance of the plasma lance. Blobs of colour twisted across his vision as he imagined the lance of superheated particles slicing through the station’s outer hull.
“We’re good,” Luc called.
Dannage knelt to peer through the square hole in the Garrison’s hull, blinking away the motes of colour still twining themselves across his vision. The edges were still warm to the touch.
An idea popped into his head and he thumbed the com-link open. “Jax, can you hack the station?”
“You want me to hack into a government station that’s running in full stealth mode?”
When she put it like that, it didn’t sound like such a good idea. “Umm, yeah.”
“Not remotely. But if you can run a hard-line into their data network, then maybe.” Her keyboard rattled. “There’s a networked console by the F18 bay’s inner door. You can patch in there.”
“Thanks.” Dannage cut the com, squinting into the darkened bay. He wondered how long they’d have before the Spooks showed up.
Heck with it. It was time to take the fight to them.
“Gear up.” Dannage kicked off, toward the weapons’ locker. “We’re going in.”
◊◊
Arland felt the gravity shift as the monorail passed into a narrower passage. They must be nearing the station’s centre point. Being the most protected part of the station, it was where the primary systems would be located. The passage widened out into a platform that curved upward. Columns rose from the platform to meet over the tracks, from Arland's point of view, they looked like the spokes of a giant wheel.
Harris stepped out of one of the passages in the overhead and looked up to them. “What’s she doing here?”
Arland let out a low growl and the guard’s hands tightened on her shoulders, forcing her to her knees.
“The Binaries wish to speak to her,” the Spook replied, then turned to Arland, his expression rippling. When he spoke, his voice held that tone of recital. “Come, Miss Arland. We have waited a long time to meet you in the flesh, and here, at the end of all things, we might find a common unity.”
“Common unity?” she asked, but the Spook was back to normal now. He walked away from her, up the curve of the platform to where Harris waited.
The guard pulled Arland to her feet and shoved her after the Spook, who disappeared into the corridor Harris had come from.
The wall and ceiling panels had been ripped out to make room for a snaking tangle of data cables that covered every spare inch of space. What kind of data processing where they using to need that kind of bandwidth?
Mixed into the optical data lines were clear tubes, gurgling ominously with orange-brown liquid. Images of the Augite III flashed through Arland’s mind. Writhing flesh in murky nutrient baths. Maddix with half his hea
d missing, wires jammed into his brain. Bile rose in her throat.
“All this for a wetware lab?” Anger made her bite off each word.
“Is that what you think we have in here?” Harris let out a low chuckle. “Some low rent hack-shop?”
“What is in there, then?” Arland rounded on Harris. The officer stepped back instinctively, before reneging his composure and smiling.
In the blink of an eye all the humour drained from his face, his head tilting to one side, eyes going distant. “The future, the only future we have left,” he intoned. “I think it’s time we finally met Miss Shauna Arland. So do, please, step inside.”
It was her turn to step back. She’d spoken to enough Spooks over the last few weeks to recognise when the Binaries were talking through them, but to see it up close like this… The way his voice, his face changed becoming someone else, something else, like water flowing into a cup. It was disconcerting. How could they allow themselves to be used like that?
Harris turned and marched into the room without looking back. The other Spook waited patiently, just inside.
She’d come this far, sacrificed so much to get here. She couldn’t stop now. Steeling herself for what was to come, she approached the door.
◊◊
Dannage peered around the doorjamb and let out a small breath. The corridor was empty. Luc moved past him, his rifle up.
“Jax,” Dannage whispered into his com. “You in?”
“Yeah. But there’s something odd going on. I’m getting a lot of conflicting network traffic. It’s hard to isolate individual systems and— hang on.”
Dannage waited, scanning the hallway. The weight of the handgun felt odd in his hands. He rarely carried a weapon, normally relying on others to do the “grunt work.” A nagging voice that sounded suspiciously like Arland suggested that it was the attitude of an SDF officer.
“Captain,” Jax’s voice filtered through the com. “I’m getting some odd feedback from the system. It doesn’t look like any alarms have been tripped yet though.”
“Okay, Jax. Keep us posted.” Dannage signalled for Luc to lead off, and the pair advanced.
The tension rose as they moved through the station. The further they went without incident, the more worries tugged at Dannage’s thoughts. What if they were wrong and there was nothing here? What if they were right and something was watching them? Waiting for them to let their guard down? He could almost feel eyes on the back of his neck. Was that the scrape of a claw? He kept casting glances over his shoulder, expecting to see something coming for them, one of the Turned leaping from the shadows.
The soft chirping of his com made Dannage start.
“Captain.” Jax sounded excited. “I’ve managed to decode the feedback. It’s some sort of inelegance system, maybe a V.I. or a heuristic helper. It’s communicating with us.”
“Jax, calm down. What does that mean? What’s this V-thingy trying to say?” Dannage hated to mute her excitement, but when she got carried away like this, no one could follow her.
“V.I. Virtual Intelligence, it’s like full ASI but without the awareness or the heuristics, sort of like a snapshot.”
“Jax, focus, please. What did it say?”
“It says Hale’s in a lab toward the end of the station. I’m sending a map to your wrist screen. It says it’ll reroute the guards to give you a clear path.”
Dannage shared a glance with Luc. This was all rather convenient.
“Wait,” Jax continued. “He says he wants to help Arland.”
“And you believe it?”
“There’s something sending data that conflicts with the primary systems. And the packet headers on this message match that conflicting data. Whatever he— it says, it’s working against the rest of the station.”
Dannage closed the com, deep in thought. Your enemy’s enemy is your ally? Or maybe it was just as crazy as Dannage. Either way, he didn’t like the odds of it all falling apart on them.
Luc broke into his thoughts. “Do we go for it?”
“It’s either that or we wander around, waiting for something to come up,” Dannage said.
“I don’t trust this…” Luc struggled to find the word. “This whatever it is.”
“Neither do I, but it’s something.” Dannage raised his gun. “Eyes up.”
Dannage flicked the wrist screen he’d pulled off one of the EVA suits and it sprang to life. True to her word, Jax had already updated the plans they’d pulled with a waypoint marker.
Dannage and Luc’s progress through the station was slow and tense, but thankfully an uneventful process. So far it looked like the V.I. was on the level.
Focusing on his wrist display, Dannage almost walked into Luc. Dannage’s mouth opened with a snappy retort when Luc held up his hand for silence. Then, Luc tapped his ear, ‘listen.’
Dannage crouched by the intersection, straining to hear.
The voices were far away, but clear. “We will need her awake for the tests.”
Another voice this one hard and abrupt, military sounding. “Then you make damn sure she’s restrained. She took out three of my men before we could put her under.”
Dannage grinned. That sounded like Hale all right. He started around the corner, signalling for Luc to fall in behind him.
Luc’s hand on his arm stopped him. Dannage turned to glare at his friend.
“What’s the play here?” Luc whispered.
“We go in there and shoot the ass-hats!” Dannage hissed back.
“By ‘we’ you mean me, right?” Luc locked eyes with Dannage, giving his words more weight, more force than they might have had on another man.
Dannage shook it off. It was time for him to step up. He’d dragged his friends into this and whatever happened next, he’d make damn sure he was front and centre. “Just follow my lead.”
Brushing Luc off, Dannage checked his gun, clicked the safety off and started around the corner.
The room was a lab of sorts, a glass partition wall separated the main lab from the vestibule Dannage and Luc burst into.
Both the big, bald guy in military fatigues, and a younger man in medical scrubs stood facing an operating table. Dannage caught a glimpse of dark hair and wide shoulders in a medical gown. Hale.
What had they done to her? Even the first time he’d seen her in the cryo-pod, she had a vibrancy. But now, now on that metal slab, she was inert. Dead? whispered a small voice in the back of his mind.
Dannage kicked the door open, lining up his pistol on the hulking, bald mercenary and pulled the trigger. The gun let out a throaty roar, kicking back hard, almost taking Dannage from his feet. The merc stumbled back, his hand going to his right shoulder. His right arm, still holding the compact gun, hung at his side.
“Drop it!” Dannage glared at the man down the sights of his gun.
The merc lunged to one side, pulling something from his wounded shoulder. He brought his gun up in a stream of bullets that tracked toward Dannage.
Dannage threw himself further into the room, toward where the scientist huddled behind the operating table. Behind him, Luc’s gun joined the cacophony.
Dannage stumbled back to his feet and grabbed Hale. “Hey, can you hear me?”
The Terran mumbled something into the table.
On the far side of the room, the guard clutched a wound in his side, his gun cast aside.
“I’ve got him covered,” Luc said, without looking away. “Get Hale.”
Dannage fumbled at Hale’s restraints. He couldn’t work out how the metal manacles were supposed to open. With a growl, he snatched up his gun and pointed it at the scientist. “Unlock them.”
“You’re nothing more than a pair of thugs,” the guard sneered.
Dannage ignored him. The scientist’s trembling hands unlocked the restraints.
Hale rolled onto her back, groaning. She looked tired and drawn. Her eyes unfocused, and her voice slurred. “Dannage? How did you get here?”
“You�
��re welcome.” Dannage grinned. Damn, it was good to see her again.
Hale stepped from the bed, appearing stronger by the second, and looked around. “Where’s my stuff.”
“The big bad Terran wants her clothes back?” the merc mocked.
In a flash, Hale was across the room, slamming the merc against the plate glass partition hard enough to crack it. “Where?” she demanded, slamming him back again.
“There, under the table over there.” The scientist pointed.
Hale slammed the guard clean through the glass partition and rushed to the table the scientist had indicated. After a moment of rooting, she rocked back, holding something that caught the light. It must have been a pendant. She slipped it over her head before pulling the ill-fitting flight suit on.
“Guard’s dead,” Luc reported. “We can’t leave this guy, he’ll just raise the alarm.” He gestured to the scientist.
“I have an idea.” Dannage smiled.
They left the scientist unconscious and locked to the operating table.
◊◊
Server racks buzzed, lights blinking in time with the chatter of data drives. Between the servers, liquid bubbled through backlit tubes, giving the room a rippling orange light.
Arland was peripherally aware of Harris and the other Spook standing off to one side, but most of her attention was locked on the cluster of screens at the far end of the room. Behind them, the side of a clear tank of orange liquid curved away.
Something moved in the tank. She stepped to one side, to see past the consoles. Stars, she wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want to keep looking. But now she had, she couldn’t look away. Oh Stars, it was disgusting, a writhing mass of pink flesh. She could practically feel it looking at her from its eyeless bulk. Electricity flickered across its surface, sending the flesh pulsating and writhing in its wake. She closed her eyes, turning away. But she could still see it, the tubes and cables jammed into the mass of that Slave Mind.
