Kensington stared at him for a moment, and then at Medusa, with whom he had worked for the last twenty-one months. She watched him silently and then shrugged. Kensington reached up under his shirt. With a tug, he snapped a chain that had been hanging around his neck, leaving a small key loose in his hand as he stepped forward to one of the computer consoles. He inserted the key into a small hole and, turning it, unlocked a metal panel, which he lifted aside. Beneath the panel were two buttons—one red, one green. Kensington stared at them momentarily. Then he reached out and pressed the green button.
A recorded voice spoke from the console. “Launch codes activated.”
Andrew turned back to the screen. “Mr. President,” he said sternly, “I prefer pragmatism.”
THE CONSPIRATORS
CHAPTER 43
“Mr. Kensington—” began the President, his voice choked with anger.
“You chose to side with the monsters, sir.” Andrew cut him off. “I choose humanity. I have nothing left to say to you. Turn it off,” he instructed Nick.
“Nicholas, I am receiving a tactical update from Armistice Security being broadcast system-wide over the planetary communications grid,” said Rapier. “A ship-to-shore thermonuclear missile has been launched at the continental United States from the Pacific Ocean off the coast of California. Tactical analysis indicates the missile has been modified to project shield wards in an interlocked and overlapping configuration, as well as a quantum dispersion field, preventing it from being shot down. The coastal defense barrier has been activated. Impact in thirty seconds.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nick said to Jeremy, who stared at him in horror from the screen. “It will never get through the defense grid.”
Jeremy’s voice was quiet—strangled. “They found a way to neutralize the shield matrices.”
Nick went still. “That’s impossible,” he whispered.
“I saw the report in Cochrane’s mind!” yelled Jeremy. “Nick, you have to stop them!”
“Turn it off, Ambassador,” Medusa said coldly. “Now. Or we will start executing prisoners.”
Nick turned to Kensington, who glared at him with unconcealed loathing. “Turn it off, Rapier,” Nick said, and the virtual screen winked out. “There are more than one-point-five million people living in Anchorpoint. Are you ready for that much blood on your hands?”
“Your people, Ambassador,” Andrew said contemptuously. “Not mine.”
“Kensington, if you do this, you’ll condemn millions of your own people to death,” Nick warned. “The Court will attack as soon as we are eliminated.”
Andrew frowned, and then glanced at Medusa.
She shrugged again. “Perhaps they will,” she said. “We will deal with them when the time comes. First things first.” She turned to the map display, focusing on the indicator that revealed the missile’s position.
Nick watched as the indicator reached the coast, then Rapier spoke again. “New tactical update received. The missile has penetrated the coastal defense grid. Sensor scans show that the missile is projecting a forward neutrino burst that has disrupted the shield matrix of the coastal defense barrier. Course projection indicates the missile is targeted at Anchorpoint City.
“Tactical analysis predicts the weapon will penetrate the Colorado Defense Grid and impact the city center in eleven minutes forty seconds. A four-megaton ground burst detonation is predicted, which will result in the complete destruction of the city, including Armistice Security Headquarters. Teleport evacuation is now in progress. All Armistice facilities in North America are ordered to shut down non-essential systems and divert available power to the Anchorpoint Transit Hub in order to maintain and enhance teleport infrastructure, now operating at two hundred percent capacity and increasing.”
Nick swallowed. “Will that be enough?”
“No,” said Rapier. “Anchorpoint Control estimates that no more than forty percent of the city’s population will escape. Projected death toll exceeds one million casualties.”
“Kensington,” Nick pleaded, “for the love of God, don’t do this. Stop it! Before it’s too late.”
“He couldn’t even if he wanted to, Nicholas.” Medusa smiled grimly. “The missile has no abort mechanism. There’s nothing any of us can do to prevent it from reaching its target.”
“But why?” Nick screamed. “We did nothing!”
“This is our world, Ambassador,” Kensington said angrily. “Humanity clawed its way out of howling barbarism to achieve mastery over it, using knowledge and reason. Your magic is a throwback—an atavism from a forgotten age. That door needs to be closed so humanity can step forward on its own two feet.” He stabbed a finger in Nick’s direction. “Your people are a sickness, a weakness that we can’t afford. You need to be cleansed in fire.”
“Kensington, please—” Nick stopped abruptly as everyone else in the room collapsed. He blinked as Jeremy appeared in front of him after shutting down his invisibility shroud.
Jeremy scowled at Andrew’s prone form, and then walked to one of the computer workstations. After typing in a series of commands, he asked, “Toby, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Toby’s voice came out of thin air.
“I’ve started cycling the atmosphere on all three levels. Make sure you grab a gas mask off one of the bodies in the machine shop before you head down; it won’t be safe for at least a couple of minutes.”
“How did you get in here?” Nick asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “Toby brought us to the edge of the jumper block and I ran the rest of the way. I’m physically human. There was a chance the gas wouldn’t affect me, so I took the risk. I snuck in past the guards far enough to take out everyone in the building at once.” He turned to the map display. “Grendel, how long do we have?”
“Impact in ten minutes fifteen seconds.”
Nick shook himself mentally. “Rapier,” he snapped, “get me tactical access, and bring up everything you can get on the missile.” Virtual screens sprang up around him, showing schematics of the missile. “What can you tell me about the neutrino burst?”
“The effect has not been previously recorded.”
“Extrapolate from our theoretical knowledgebase, based on sensor data and shield grid telemetry. Use my authorization codes to get priority access to the AI distributed network.”
At that moment, Toby sprinted into the control room. He raised his staff and quickly cast a series of spells that caused the glowing lines of the blood circles to flicker and expire. “Move your ass, big brother,” he yelled, his voice distorted by the gas mask. “We don’t have much time.”
“Analysis complete.” Rapier spoke again. “The neutrino radiation appears to interrupt the stable energy matrix that forms the basis for most forms of coherent energy field.”
“Can we block its effects or alter the city shield grid to resist it?” asked Nick, stepping over the inert blood circles.
“Yes. But modulation of the shield grid would require manual adjustment of the individual shield emitters to multiple alternate waveforms. There is insufficient time to reconfigure enough emitters to provide an effective defense.”
“What about the warhead, itself?” Toby asked. “Can we burn it out or detonate the missile before it hits?”
“No. The missile carries a simple kinetic trigger. There are no complex electronics to damage.”
“So it’ll keep flying until it runs into something big enough to stop it,” said Nick, pacing back and forth. “Can we project a barrier in front of it strong enough to trigger an early detonation?”
“The neutrino burst will interfere with all known forms of stable energy barriers,” Rapier explained. “The shields the missile is projecting will most likely protect the detonator from non-physical magical barriers or manipulation until the missile’s momentum carries it beyond the area of effect.”
“So telekinesis is out, even if I can catch up to it in flight,” said Nick, grinding his teeth.
“Damn it!” shouted Toby. “There must be something we can do!”
A tone sounded from the computer console. Jeremy glanced at it. “The atmosphere is clear, Toby.”
“What about teleportation?” Toby asked, pulling off his mask. “Can we throw something in its way to form a physical barrier?”
“The neutrino burst will disrupt the formation of any unshielded teleportation matrix.”
Nick stopped pacing and looked up. “Wait. What do mean unshielded?”
“Recursion drive propulsion uses a sequential teleport matrix that is enshrouded in an artificial gravity field. The gravity field will prevent the teleport matrix from dissipating.”
“Oh, my God!” Nick’s face paled. “Rapier, you said they’re shutting down non-essential systems. Are any of the faster-than-light communication relays still up?”
“Checking. Stand by.”
“Recursion drive,” said Toby, nodding. “You think we can get a jumpship close enough to shoot it down?”
“At close range, we might have a chance of penetrating its shields, especially if we can get a couple of ships working together. It’s the best chance we have.”
“The Icehaven uplink remains active,” Rapier said finally. “However, it is scheduled for deactivation in sixty seconds to divert power to assist in the evacuation of Anchorpoint.”
“Open a channel to Icehaven Control,” demanded Nick.
“Channel open.”
“Icehaven Control, this is Nicholas Magister Luscian. Abort FTL uplink shutdown. Authorization Luscian five-seven-three-six, authentication keyword ‘destiny’.”
“I am unable to comply, Ambassador,” replied the Icehaven municipal AI. “Shutdown protocols have been activated over Champion-level authorization codes, originating with the Triumvirate. Your Guardian-level clearance codes are superseded.”
“Damn it!” yelled Nick. “I need off-world communications! It’ll take twenty minutes to bring the link back up if you power it down!”
“I am sorry, Ambassador. I have my orders,” answered the AI. “Uplink shutdown in forty seconds.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Nick rubbed his eyes. Then he stopped dead and dropped his hands to his sides. “Icehaven Control, verify my identity.”
“Voiceprint confirmed. Identity: Nicholas Lawrence Jameson Magister Luscian.”
Nick swallowed. “Icehaven Control, the Triumvirate is under direct attack. Until such time as their safety is secured, I assume executive authority under the emergency succession plan designated ‘Armageddon Protocol One’. Authorization ‘Kyrie Eleison’.”
“Emergency authorization code confirmed. Command clearance upgrade executed and propagating system-wide. Icehaven is at your command, Archangel. What are your orders?”
“Abort FTL uplink shutdown. The Triumvirate’s order is countermanded,” Nick instructed.
“Uplink shutdown aborted. FTL communications remain online.”
Toby and Jeremy stared at him, their mouths agape.
“Rapier, how long do we have?”
“Impact in nine minutes, fifteen seconds.”
“Display continuous countdown.” A virtual screen appeared, showing the time before impact. “Icehaven Control, take all necessary actions to maintain off-world and planetary communications.”
“Confirmed.”
“Open a channel to the Citadel.”
“Channel open.”
“Citadel Control, this is the Archangel. Verify my command codes.”
“Executive authority confirmed. The Citadel is at your command, Archangel. What are your orders?”
“Access the Spacer Guild Master Navigation AI. Give me a list of all jumpships within nine minutes travel time to Anchorpoint.”
“Stand by, Archangel. Search in progress.” Nick watched the map display and the illuminated telltale that followed the missile’s course. “Search complete. One vessel meets search parameters. The Horizon: a class-three cargo vessel currently en route from Ares Colony to Cassandra Station; Captain Danvers commanding. It is eight minutes, fifteen seconds away from Anchorpoint at maximum velocity.”
“A cargo ship?” asked Jeremy. “Does that mean it has no armaments?”
“Yes,” answered the Citadel AI.
“Then we’re dead,” Toby said in despair.
Nick closed his eyes. “What is the crew complement of the ship?”
“Captain Danvers is the only crew member.”
Nick swallowed and opened his eyes again. “Icehaven Control, open a channel to the Jumpvessel Horizon.”
“Channel open.”
“Horizon Command, this is the Archangel,” said Nick. “Acknowledge.”
“This is Captain Danvers, Horizon Command. Who the hell am I speaking to? Is this some kind of prank? Because if it is, joking about the Armageddon Protocols isn’t very fucking funny.”
“This is Nicholas Magister Luscian, Captain, and I am not joking. Verify my command codes. The Armageddon Protocols are now in effect. We are at war.”
Silence reigned for precious seconds as the Captain digested the news. When he spoke again, his voice was level. “The Horizon is at your command, Archangel. What are your orders?”
“Are you aware of the current tactical emergency on Earth, Captain?”
“No, sir. I am still a good sixty seconds outside the planetary communications envelope at my present speed. What is happening?”
“A high-yield nuclear missile has been launched at Anchorpoint City. It has been modified to penetrate our defense grids, and it is heavily shielded to resist our efforts to shoot it down. It will impact the city center in just under nine minutes.”
“Mother of God. Can they evacuate?”
“Not in time. We estimate that less than forty percent of the city’s inhabitants will survive.” Nick took a deep breath. “Captain, the Master Navigation AI says you are a little more than eight minutes away. I need you to intercept that missile.”
“Intercept it?” Captain Danvers sounded incredulous. “I can get there in time, just barely, but what can I do? This is a freighter, Archangel. I have no weapons!”
“The ship will be the only weapon you need, Captain,” Nick said quietly.
A long silence followed.
“Archangel,” said Captain Danvers, “I require explicit confirmation. Are you ordering me to ram a nuclear missile?”
“Yes, I am.”
CHAPTER 44
“Captain Danvers, please understand. I would give anything—pay any price—not to ask this of you, but I have no other option,” Nick pleaded. “Yours is the only jumpvessel in range. If you refuse, more than a million people will die by fire. This is your choice, Captain—and you need to make it right now.”
Silence was the only response.
“Are you still there, Captain?”
“I’m here, Archangel,” Captain Danvers replied quietly. “Stand by.” A few moments later, he spoke again. “Course change to Anchorpoint executed. Accelerating to maximum velocity. I will need tactical telemetry on the target to plot an intercept course.”
“Rapier, send him all the sensor data we have.” Nick took a deep breath. “Can I ask your full name, Captain?”
“Michael Sebastian Danvers. But you can call me Icarus. All of my friends do.”
“I just ordered you to your death, Captain. No one in his right mind would call me your friend.”
“That’s kind of up to me, isn’t it, sir? Besides, if this is going to be the last conversation I have in my life, I don’t see any reason for formality.”
“Icarus, my friends call me Nick.” He looked at Jeremy and Toby. “Sentinels Jeremy Harkness and Tobias Jameson are here, as well.”
“Sentinels, a pleasure to meet you,” said the jumpship pilot. “I saw you on the footage from the Armistice Day event in Washington.” He paused. “In case you didn’t know, the two of you actually managed to score Nick some major brownie points with most of the off-world Sentinel population. We respec
t ruthlessness and loyalty, and you highlighted both that night.”
“Icarus,” Toby’s tone was subdued, “this is Toby. Is there anything we can do for you? We can get you a com channel anywhere in the Armistice if there’s someone you want to talk to.”
“No. No one.” He sighed. “Can I keep talking to you three? Suddenly, solitude doesn’t appeal to me.”
“This is Jeremy, Icarus. We’ll be with you all the way.”
“Thanks. Okay, I’ve got the missile locked on my sensor array. Radiant, plot an intercept course to the target aircraft at maximum velocity.”
“Course plotted, Captain,” replied the ship’s navigation AI.
“Execute the designated course change and notify me when we approach the Colorado defense perimeter. Let Anchorpoint Control know of our intentions and request priority clearance to enter municipal airspace.”
“Course change complete. Intercept in seven minutes, thirty-five seconds.”
Jeremy glanced at Rapier’s countdown clock. “That should give you a full twenty seconds to spare, Icarus.”
“Good,” said Captain Danvers. “Better too soon than too late.” He paused. “Radiant, activate Captain’s failsafe protocol alpha.”
“Confirmed.”
“What did you just do, Michael?” asked Nick.
“Nothing to worry about. Just activated a safety mechanism. It isolates my ship’s AI from external commands and broadcasts emergency telemetry to Spacer Guild Headquarters at the Citadel. It’s required under Guild regulations anytime a Captain decides to place his ship in danger of being damaged or destroyed.”
Sunset (Pact Arcanum) Page 41
