by M. R. Forbes
Their commander was out in front of them. A squid-like Rudin, it wore a more traditional uniform, cut to allow its tentacles to spill out from the bottom and keep it erect on the floor. Rudin didn’t make for good Sentries, their tentacles weren’t well-suited for carrying weapons, and their shapes were inefficient to protect with armor. They did make impeccable leaders, as their entire racial identity was locked to a code of honor and pride that meant they always followed every rule to the letter.
Of course, there were occasions where that strict adherence made it difficult for them to adjust to unexpected situations, and Hayley noted the presence of the Rudin. It might be something they could use later.
For now, the commander simply observed as the Movers opened up the containers they had delivered, using the exosuits to lift ten times their body weight and carry large crates across the hangar to waiting pallets. They wordlessly dropped six of the smaller crates on each, and then pushed the pallets toward the hangar exit.
The Sentries didn’t move as Hayley passed them, walking in front of one of the three pallets. Each of them was to be delivered to a different part of the Worldbrain and offloaded, a process that would give them two hours to find the Oracle before the Movers would return to the hangar for the next round. If they weren’t back with the crew at that point, the Rudin commander would be sure to notice their absence.
Not that they had any intention of getting back with the crew. Don Pallimo already had his excuses and scapegoats prepared. He would blame a rogue operative, Bastion Merritt, for whatever went down, and claim he didn’t know he had been harboring a wanted fugitive all of this time. There would be questions. An investigation. The Don would weather it.
It was good to be rich.
The Movers went down the corridor single-file, guiding the pallets to a large tube that would drop them into the guts of the Worldbrain. A single Sentry joined them there, standing at the front of the platform while they descended.
When they reached the bottom, the Sentry moved out and to the side, standing at attention as the Movers took the pallets out of the tube and guided them down another corridor. Their work had already taken them below the public access areas of the Worldbrain, which were mainly composed of workstations, libraries, data retrieval and archiving centers, and organic life form support operations: food, lodging, and limited entertainment. Anything that could potentially cause someone to damage the Worldbrain was outlawed on the Worldbrain. That meant no alcohol, no gambling, no vice of any kind. And definitely no weapons.
It made sense. The equipment in the pallets they were pushing was worth upwards of a trillion coin. That was more than the GDP of half the planets in the Republic.
They reached an intersection in the hallway, where four separate corridors joined. Two of the pallets need to go left, the other straight.
“This is where we part ways,” Hayley said through the comm.
The Riders stayed behind while the Movers continued with their delivery, not paying them even a cursory look or acknowledging they had broken off from the group. She wasn’t sure if it was because the Movers were just that professional or because they hated the Riders’ very existence. After all, it had left the Movers down five real employees and would mean they had to work that much harder for that much longer.
“Worm, goggles up,” Hayley said. “Lead the way.”
“Roger,” Bastion replied. He reached under his exosuit, grabbing the TCU-linked eyewear from a tightpack and sliding them on. The large, opaque specs looked almost stylish on him, and he grinned like he knew it. He turned to the corridor on the right. “This way.”
Their TCUs had been loaded with a map of the Worldbrain, including the restricted areas and the terminals within. Bastion was leading them to whichever access point was the closest.
“No word from Jil,” Tibor whispered.
“No news is good news,” she replied.
She was linked to the Chalandra through a secondary channel that flowed from the Mary Dawn to the cargo transports and inward. That channel was exposed and traceable in the event it was used, but if Jil needed to use it, they had worse things to worry about. They couldn’t discount the chance that the Oracle had guessed they would be coming for her, or that Thetan was on her way to intercept. They still didn’t know exactly how the Nephilim had planted the Oracle on the planet in the first place, and they also didn’t know what she had left in the area to protect the asset.
First things first.
They moved unimpeded through the hallway, taking a route through the maintenance passages that carried them half a kilometer from the delivery spires’ tube. They slowed as they neared the access point, moving back to a connector while a pair of Sentries walked past. They advanced again once they were clear, coming up to an unmarked door a moment later.
“This should be the place,” Bastion said, tapping on the door. “Maintenance Terminal Four Sixty-seven. Hopefully, there’s nobody using it.” He pointed to the control panel. “You’re up, Witchy.”
“Ellie, I need to borrow your Light,” Hayley said.
The Seraphim nodded. They had already talked about sharing the naniates.
Hayley called out to them gently. Since Ellie was consenting, it didn’t take much effort at all to convince the naniates to cross over to her. Her arms were glowing soft and white within seconds, her body tingling from the Shard’s power. The Light was so different to hold than the Collective or the Gift. It was cool and calm and easy.
She put her hand on the control pad, and the naniates flowed into it, getting behind the face to the circuitry. She couldn’t just short the system. It might open the door, but it would also bring the Sentries running. Instead, she leaned in close, watching the energy flow. She used the naniates to run a feedback loop into the alarm circuit, and then she had them short the controls.
The door slid open. She saw the security signal go out, but it was caught and repeated, over and over again, screaming silently that there were intruders on the Worldbrain.
It was too bad nothing could hear it.
“Good warm-up,” Bastion said.
Maintenance Terminal Four Sixty-seven was a small room with a standard access terminal placed against the wall. A simple task chair was placed in front of the terminal, and because they were who they were and their luck was their luck, someone was already sitting in it.
The woman pivoted in the chair, looking back at them, her qi curious and frightened.
“Who are you?”
22
“Who are we?” Bastion said without missing a beat. “Who are you? This is a restricted area.”
The woman looked over toward the control panel. She was wearing a technician’s uniform, and she started reaching for the comm badge on her chest.
“Don’t,” Bastion said, putting up his hand.
“You’re wearing Cargo Mover exosuits, but you have access to a secured terminal?” the woman said. “Or you somehow managed to bypass the alarm and break the lock. Sorry, I’m calling the Sentries.”
Hayley reached out to the badge with the Light. The naniates entered it, shorting out its circuitry and rendering it inoperable.
“Go ahead,” she said. “We’ll wait.”
The woman tapped on the badge. “Control, this is Senior Technician Wan.” She waited for a second for Control to respond. When they didn’t, she repeated the message. Then she grew more afraid.
“They can’t hear you,” Hayley said. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re looking for somebody.”
“Down here?” the tech said.
“It’s a long story. We need the terminal.”
“You’re breaking the law being here. If you hurt me, the-”
“Didn’t I just say we don’t want to hurt you? Look, there’s some really bad stuff going on in the galaxy, and if we don’t stop it, you, me, and everybody you love are going to be in big trouble.”
“Did you steal that from a stream?” Bastion asked. “Because that sounds fam
iliar. And corny. And cliche.”
“Will you shut up?” Hayley said. “You can critique me later. Do you know anything about the Oracle?”
The woman’s qi changed, instantly showing Hayley that she did. She started reaching for the terminal, swiveling the chair back toward it.
“Grab her!” Hayley said.
Bastion threw himself on her, grabbing her arms before she could touch the terminal and pulling her back. The chair slipped, losing its grip on the floor, and the technician and Bastion fell to the ground. She struggled against him before biting down on something.
An instant later, she was dead.
“Damn it,” Bastion said, rolling the technician off him and resting the body on the floor. “So much for being discrete. That took what? Two minutes?”
“She knew the Oracle,” Hayley said. “That means she was a Nephilim.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once she doesn’t turn up where and when she’s supposed to, the Sentries will be down here looking for her. They probably don’t know the Nephilim are even a thing, so they’ll only care one of the Worldbrain’s employees was killed. We don’t have anywhere to hide a body.”
“Then we’d better get to work,” Hayley said, cutting him off.
She righted the chair. Then she stripped off the Mover exosuit and sat in front of the terminal, detaching a thin wire from her lightsuit and connecting it to the hardware.
“Witchy,” Bastion said.
“Shh,” Hayley replied. “I have to listen to the data patterns and follow the energy outputs. It’s easier if nobody makes any noise.”
She pushed the Light into the terminal. She had practiced this sort of breaking a few times before, but it had never gone that well. Interacting with a network this way was like trying to catch a comet with a butterfly net.
What choice did they have?
The Riders were silent around her, watching tensely as she leaned forward, getting as close to the terminal hardware as she could. The naniates danced along the fibers connecting it to the network, sparkling and shimmering in response to her commands. She sent a simple ping out to test the security, listening to the reverberating tone of the response. The naniates flickered, too.
The terminal was unlocked. Maybe coming across the tech wasn’t such bad luck after all? Was that why she had reached for it before Bastion grabbed her?
Either way, she had made it to step two.
She concentrated again, this time trying to send a query along the network to the stem of the Worldbrain, where a trillion processors would work to answer the question, drawing from nearly infinite storage and resources. She didn’t ask it directly for the Oracle. That was sure to raise flags from here to Thetan’s flagship. Instead, she tried to ask it for the count of girls under the age of twelve currently on the planet. How many of those could there be?
She listened to the soft tones in response. There were no circumstances where it would be easy to work this way, but it must have done something because Bastion gasped behind her.
“Hold that thought, Witchy,” he said. “We just got a map of the planet with a bunch of glowing dots on it.”
“How many?” she asked.
“Twenty at most.”
That was more than she was hoping, but it wasn’t an unmanageable number.
Bastion leaned over her, capturing the map with his goggles and saving it to his TCU. “What is it?”
“It’s all of the human females aged twelve or-”
“Help me!”
The cry hit Hayley’s senses like a sledgehammer, echoing in her ears so loudly she reached up and put her hands on them, pressing them tight to try to shut it out.
“Please. Hayley. Help me.”
Hayley cried out, the pain in her head instant and intense.
“Witchy?” Tibor said, pushing past Bastion to get to her. “What’s going on?”
She held her arm out, stopping him.
“Where are you?” she replied. “I’m trying to find you. I came to help.”
“I knew you would come. Help me. Please.”
“Where are you?” she repeated. “There were twenty results.”
“Decoys. Fakes. Lies. Only one is me.”
“Which one?”
“They’re coming. If they know I talked to you; they’ll move me. They’ll take me away before you can help me.”
“Where are you? I have a map with twenty dots. Which one are you? You don’t need to speak, just fill in the blanks.”
“I’m here. Please. Help me, Hayley. Hurry.”
The pain subsided as quickly as it had arrived. She dropped back into the chair. “Bastion, did the map change?”
“Hold on, let me-”
“Did it change, damn it?” she repeated impatiently.
“I. I think there’s another dot. I have to compare it to the original copy. Hold on.”
“Hurry. She’s in trouble.”
“Who is?”
“The Oracle. She spoke to me. She knows we came to rescue her. Any day now, Worm.”
“Got it, I think.”
“Pass it to the others. Riders, goggles up, weapons ready. We have to haul ass.”
“Roger that,” Tibor said. He was ahead of the others removing the Mover exosuit.
“Transmitting location,” Bastion said.
“Are you sure this is real, Witchy?” Tibor asked. “Not a Nephilim trap? Or the Collective?”
“Completely sure? No. But if either one of them can be that convincing, they deserve to catch us. It’s the Oracle. I’m as positive as I can be.”
“Good enough for me,” Narrl said.
“Me too,” Tibor said.
“Worm, lead the way,” Hayley said.
“Roger,” Bastion replied, stepping back out into the corridor.
“You!” An amplified voice shouted from the end of the hallway. “Drop the weapon and stay where you are. You’re under arrest.”
Bastion glanced back at her, his qi shifting to a blend of amusement and resignation.
“Shit,” he said.
23
Bastion turned slowly, raising his hands and letting his pistol fall to the ground.
“Who are you?” the Sentry said. “And how did you get in there?”
Hayley’s TCU toned four times in her ear, giving her a count of the Sentries approaching Bastion. They didn’t seem to know there was more than one person at the terminal yet.
“I was looking for the head,” Bastion replied. “Seriously, I was planning to off myself. That’s why I have the gun.”
The Sentries were approaching cautiously; rifles leveled at him. “And the armor?” the lead asked.
Bastion smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Yeah. Right. The armor. Well. I. Giant dog!”
He shouted as he dropped to the floor. Seconds passed. He raised his head. The Sentries were moving closer.
“I said, giant dog,” Bastion said, looking over at them. “Was that request not obvious enough?”
“It was,” Hayley said.
“And?”
“Wait for it.”
Bastion’s qi flashed red. The Sentries were almost close enough to see into the open doorway, but they had their attention fixed on him.
“Get up. Keep your hands behind your head.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bastion said, starting to push himself to his feet. “Do you have friends, soldier?”
“I have friends,” the Sentry replied.
“Are they good friends? Like, friends who wouldn’t hide in the shadows of a small terminal room while their other friend gets arrested?”
The Sentries shifted their attention to the terminal, at the same time Tibor came blasting out of it.
He hit the closest Sentry with his shoulder, throwing them back and into the wall. Then he turned and lashed out with a large claw, growling as he caught another Sentry’s armor and dragged him to the floor. The third Sentry almost fired into the Goreshin, but Bastion kicked his arm, sending the shot wide.
Hayley bounced out of the room, hitting the third Sentry again, a sharp kick to his leg that knocked him down. She came down on top of him, bringing her Uin to his throat.
“Stay still,” she said.
He did.
Tibor was finishing up behind her, grabbing the last Sentry and holding him fast against the wall. He leaned his head in close, sticking his sharp teeth in the soldier’s face.
“Don’t move,” he said.
The Sentry’s qi was white, the man beneath the armor terrified of the Goreshin. He didn’t even think to move.
“Grab their guns,” Hayley said, taking the rifle from the Sentry she was kneeling on. She put her Uin away before taking off the soldier’s helmet, revealing a woman’s face underneath. “Sorry to do this to you, but we can’t have you calling for help just yet.” She put her hand on the woman’s forehead, sending the naniates into her and putting her gently to sleep. Then she stood and did the same to the Sentry Tibor had caught.
“How long will that buy us?” Bastion asked.
“About ten minutes,” Hayley replied. “Not much time. How far to the Oracle?”
“Not far. It’ll be faster to head to street level. If the map’s right, they’ve got her stashed in one of the spires.”
“A transmission tower, I’m sure,” Hayley said. “But how did they get her onto the network without the Archivists noticing?”
“That tech was a Nephie,” Bastion said. “Maybe they’ve got the Archivists in their pocket, too.”
“They’re supposed to be incorruptible.”
Bastion laughed. “You’re showing your age, Witchy. Nobody is incorruptible.”
Didn’t she know it. All it took was the right leverage. The right offer. “Roger that. Where’s the nearest tube to street-level?”
