The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2)

by Matthew S Williams

  Several tense minutes passed since no one felt inclined to make conversation. Gallego half-expected Najafi would send her another message, something curt and simple to let her know she was still on the right track. She didn’t appreciate being led around, but some consistency on that front would be appreciated.

  Once their elevator arrived, they stepped out with the other passengers onto a long walkway. In this area, the walls were bathed in turquoise light. The air was warm and humid as well, which only added to the impression. There were no windows or panels about, but Gallego knew that this section of the terminal was marginally dipping into the Aquilean, the interior ocean that lurked beneath Ganymede’s icy surface. Beyond the walls that sealed them in, near-freezing salt water enclosed them.

  The interior of the vessel reeked of incense and ozone. The endlessly recycled air was also a bit thinner in the confines of the car. More confined, more claustrophobic. The fact that they would be surrounded by sea water within moments added to that sensation. Gallego had been in tighter spots, though not in recent memory. But sea water was preferable to hard vacuum.

  The vessel had a predictable layout for a submarine liner. At the front was an observation lounge where patrons would sit and watch the oceans of Ganymede rush by. Behind this, arranged along a central corridor that stretched all the way to the docking point at the rear, were private rooms. Attached to this deck via a set of service elevators were the engine compartment and where the crew stored food, drinks and other amenities for the guests.

  In Gallego’s hand, a stub with a glowing indicator told her they would be lodging in cabin twenty-three for the duration of the trip. There was still no sign of Najafi. A quick gander up and down the central corridor indicated that most of the occupied cabins were already closed and sealed. Najafi could be in any one of them, or not. For all they knew, Najafi was still in the terminal and they were about to be sent off.

  “I don’t like this,” said Cheboi. “This feels like a set-up, or some kind of trap.”

  Gallego nodded her agreement. “I know, but we can’t back out yet. Najafi sounded sincere when he said he had something for us.”

  “Again, not the policeman I’m worried about.” Cheboi said this as her eyes darted back and forth down the length of the corridor. “Tight rooms, narrow hallway, few chances of escape. This place is an ambusher’s dream come true.”

  Gallego’s bio machinery alerted her to the small spike in her adrenalin levels. Were she not already nervous, and rather tired from her disturbed sleep, she might have chosen to soldier through it. Instead, she issued the order to counter-act the sudden overproduction with norepinephrine and endorphins. She felt a mild sense of relief and tried to talk her bodyguard down.

  “We’re about to push off. If anyone was planning on ambushing us, they would have to have boarded already. Not much chance of that happening.”

  “Maybe,” said Cheboi, taking a deep breath. “But the kind of people I think we could be dealing with, they’re known for being crafty. And they’re also known for being well equipped. Keep your eyes open, it’s all I’m asking.”

  Gallego also took a deep breath. She felt like this was a point she should argue, but that felt pointless when she was already doing everything she could to fight back her own anxiety. Cheboi’s attitude did seem paranoid but advising caution could hardly be considered bad advice.

  As if to address her main concern, a message reached Gallego a second later. Text only.

  Go to your cabin. Wait until we disembark. I’ll signal you then.

  Gallego felt a sudden rumbling as the vessel began to power up its engine. She looked up the corridor and spotted the doorway with the number twenty-three next to it.

  “C’mon,” she urged Cheboi. “We need to take our seats. This ship is about to leave port.”

  WHEN A MESSAGE ARRIVED, it was as short and curt as Gallego expected.

  Go to the observation lounge.

  She sighed and stood up. Cheboi stopped monitoring the door, which she had been doing since they arrived in their cabin and looked up at Gallego. “Him again?”

  “Yep,” Gallego replied. “Observation lounge. Follow me.”

  They proceeded to the front without delay. To their surprise, the lounge was empty when they arrived. None of the other patrons were crowded in to take in the view out of the front window. This consisted of deep, emerald-green water rushing towards them, which was partially-illuminated by the craft’s forward lights. At this depth, there were no creatures inhabiting the water, but small bits of detritus did fly past them, becoming small beacons of reflected light for a few milliseconds at a time.

  When they stepped inside, they did take notice of one passenger. He was tucked away in one of the seats against the wall, looking directly at the front window. He began speaking the moment they looked at him.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “Thank you for meeting with us,” said Gallego. She took one look around the lounge and noted the obvious. “We seem to have the place to ourselves.”

  “Yes, I made sure of that. There weren’t many people here, but they all left once I indicated I needed to do a security sweep.”

  Gallego snickered. “Please tell me you didn’t tell them there was a bomb aboard.”

  Najafi shrugged. “I didn’t say what I was looking for. I simply implied that the passengers’ safety would be guaranteed if they went back to their cabins.”

  “I suppose I understand. Though I think we could have also done without the whole cloak and dagger routine.”

  Najafi gestured to the seats adjacent to him. They were dark material, what Gallego took to be artificial leather. It absorbed her weight and formed around her bottom when she sat down, though only in the most primitive sense. Cheboi reluctantly took a seat to her right as well and eyed Najafi indignantly. Off the bat, she wanted to let him know that she neither trusted him, nor appreciated the fact that he had led them on what had felt like a wild goose chase.

  “I’m sorry for all that,” he said as soon as they were seated. His eyes were still cast in the direction of the front window, though it was clear he wasn’t looking at anything specific. “I had to be sure we could be away from any prying eyes. The Constabulary has become incredibly uneasy of late. No one trusts anyone anymore. In the city, everyone appears to be watching everyone else. It’s like a....”

  Najafi groped for a proper noun to describe it. Gallego had one she felt was appropriate and offered it to him. “Like a police state?”

  Najafi’s looked at her suddenly, and slowly smiled. “Yes, I’m afraid. And in a police state, there’s one crime above any other. Disloyalty. No one wants to do anything that would make it look like they have stepped out of line. No one even wants to talk to anyone who says they have doubts, as if it would somehow transfer the stench onto them.”

  Najafi went back to looking out the window. He raised his right hand, which was curled into a fist, and placed it on his lap. Gallego could see the edge of what looked like a portable drive protruding from it.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the unofficial case file,” he replied, still staring ahead. “It includes evidence that didn’t make it into the official file. Specifically, evidence about the suspects themselves. People were able to put each of them in a different location during the time of the shooting. They weren’t far from the site of the attack, but their alibis were checked and confirmed.”

  Gallego sighed heavily. She could hear Cheboi drawing in a deep breath through her nostrils next to her, a clear indication that she shared Gallego’s sense of indignation. Najafi continued.

  “Not only that, but we also turned these people’s lives inside out, looking to connect them to the CoJ. One of them had handed out pamphlets for their cause once, but it looked like some freelance work they did for money, and only once. The others had attended rallies and were sympathetic but had no work history with them. People like that don’t do hit jobs for a political organi
zation.”

  “Dammit.” Gallego got to her feet and began pacing across the lounge. Several ugly thoughts and feelings were rising in her gut and she felt the need for movement. The predominant one was the fact that Najafi’s admission confirmed what they had suspected and fit almost perfectly with their own investigation. She chose to focus on this one first. “Where were they said to be - the suspects - when the shooting took place?”

  Najafi listed off several locations, all of which conformed to what Gallego suspected. In fact, arranged in the proper order, the locations formed a clear path between two very specific places in Selket.

  “Between Aljiran and where the checkpoint is, yes?”

  Najafi turned to her again, this time with a look of surprise. “That’s right. How did you know?”

  Gallego looked at Cheboi. Her bodyguard’s nostrils were flared, and she looked ready to slap Najafi across the face. But the look in her eyes let Gallego know that the two of them had the exact same thought on their minds.

  We were right.

  “Inspector, this is precisely what we wanted to talk to you about. We went over the crime scene evidence and noticed a few things. Aside from the anomaly with the drone, what you just said confirms our suspicions that someone else was responsible. Someone capable, and very motivated.”

  Najafi looked away from her again. His next words sounded very resigned.

  “Tell me something I don’t know. The point is, how do we find out who these people were, and prove they were involved?”

  “We don’t need to.” It was Cheboi saying this, speaking for the first time since they met up in the lounge. Najafi was surprised to hear from her, and his head cocked towards her.

  “What do you mean?”

  Gallego looked at her too. Like Najafi, she also desired an explanation.

  “All you need to do is show that it wasn’t your people,” she clarified. “Finding the actual perpetrators is something you can leave to us, as long as the suspects are cleared in time.”

  Najafi exhaled heavily. Something new was taking him now, like he was getting a second wind. It didn’t last long, and eventually he began shaking his head. Gallego chose to help him in this regard.

  “Inspector. I know it’s not enough yet, but we were able to come up with some compelling evidence that the drone was likely hijacked by a team moving from Aljiran directly to the checkpoint. We also have a theory about where they could have come from. All we need to do is access the logs for the airlocks along the transit lines, the ones that lead to Aljiran plaza.”

  Najafi’s eyes widened again. He pushed himself up from his seat and was prepared to say something more. He was interrupted when the ship lurched slightly. The captain’s voice came on shortly thereafter.

  “Your attention, ladies and gentlemen. I apologize for the sudden stop. We appear to be carrying more weight than expected. We’re stopping momentarily to see if we’re dragging something we picked up along the way. I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be underway as soon as we resolve the problem.”

  The captain repeated the words in Jovian pidgin and a few other common tongues. Gallego didn’t hear much of it, interrupted as it was by Cheboi voking her and transmitting an urgent command to her.

  [Veronika, deploy your exosuit. Don’t ask questions. Just do it!]

  Gallego’s breath was too short to reply. She simply looked at Cheboi and nodded. Calling up an overlay, she prepared to engage the Xolotl. She also ordered the vast array of bio machinery in her brain to assume combat mode. It responded by increasing her production of adrenalin and cortisol and increasing the activity in her neural loom exponentially. Within no time, everything around her became slower, fainter, and more muted.

  Najafi, meanwhile, sensed the sudden change in their demeanor and looked at them warily. “What’s going on?”

  “Inspector are you armed?” Cheboi said, her voice low and affectedly even.

  “Yes...” he said hesitantly, reaching to his jacket and opening the lapel.

  Cheboi nodded. Something from the door caught her attention. It was open, and empty. Her breath became short, and her legs tensed like two springs ready to release. Najafi slowly inserted his hand into his jacket, cradling the weapon there.

  “When I tell you to,” Cheboi whispered, “be ready to hit the deck.”

  The next few seconds passed in extreme slow motion. Gallego felt her face becoming hot and her bio machines screaming at her. She ignored them completely, focusing instead on the command to deploy her exosuit. The skin began to emerge from its storage areas, encasing her body in a silvery coating.

  Cheboi took three quick breaths. When she shouted, it rang out like an explosive force.

  “NOW!”

  TWENTY-NINE

  EVERYTHING HAPPENED at once. Their quarry was standing with a third, the man they had identified as an inspector from the Constabulary. For a few seconds, they stood still, no longer conversing and clearly confused by the captain’s announcement. Saana and her crew watched and waited, weapons at the ready and already trained on their three targets.

  Then something happened. The tall dark one became tense, and the others began to mirror her disposition. It took barely a millisecond for Saana and her crew to realize they were suddenly aware of the open door, and knew they were being watched.

  Saana had barely enough time to smile to herself. Perhaps they had underestimated the Cythereans and their officer-friend. Perhaps they might even give her and her crew a fight.

  Their orders were almost simultaneous. As Saana reached out and issued the command to engage, the tall dark one shouted aloud.

  [Weapons free!]

  In a flash, all five of them resolved into light and began spewing directed energy from their guns. The first burst lanced through the railing that stood between her crew and the lowered area where their targets stood. All three of them were already falling in different directions. The inspector fell onto his back, simultaneously pulling a slug thrower from his jacket. The smaller one jumped to her side, a suit of gunmetal skin forming over her as she did so. Only the bodyguard stood her ground, the skin forming over her as she assumed a fighting stance and deployed her own weapons.

  Only one shot struck her, too late to singe her flesh. Quickly (too quickly), the tall one formed a shield around her forearm, a silver-skinned barrier that absorbed the first shots directed at her. Hot bits of nanomaterial peeled away from the shield and landed on the floor, burning into the carpet and the metal beneath. The bodyguard then issued a counter-salvo, bursts of hardened slugs that sliced through the last remnants of the railing.

  At the same time, the first slugs were fired by the inspector’s weapons. These flew harmlessly at her squad, most missing and striking the ceiling behind them. Those that did connect with her crew were absorbed harmlessly by their suits and promptly merged, the bullet being broken down and converted into additional usable material.

  Even so, their ambush was fast becoming a stand-up fight, which was something they didn’t want. Saana issued a series of instantaneous orders to her crew to get the situation back under control.

  [Okran, Henrissant, target the investigator.]

  [Popov, take out the inspector.]

  [Konsou, with me, take down the bodyguard.]

  The next shots from their weapons became focused in two directions at once. While two lances continued to fire in the bodyguard’s direction, two more kept firing at the investigator. She continued to move to her right, the beams arcing past her and slicing into the couches and floor. Popov, meanwhile, jumped from the entryway down into the lounge area.

  His feet landed just short of the inspector, who turned his weapon to deal with the assailant. Popov slapped it away with his right hand, sending it into a hail of fragments that flew across the room. From his left arm, a hardened blade formed.

  The bodyguard’s attention was momentarily captured. Saana smiled as this caused her to reveal her face and upper torso for a f
raction of a second. Konsou’s next shot was perfectly aimed, taking her in the chest and sending her back into the nearest couch. The blow was absorbed by the suit but managed to put her out of action long enough for Popov’s blade to strike home.

  A loud scream filled the lounge, the sounds of bone and sinew snapping as the blade cut through Najafi’s sternum. His wasn’t the only voice crying out either. Saana frowned as she realized that voices were coming from two directions at once.

  One came from the investigator, now crouching to one side of the lounge. The other was coming from her left and was followed by a bright blast.

  “SAMIR!” GALLEGO CRIED. It was too late. In the space of a heartbeat, Cheboi had taken a hit and landed hard against the wall. Next to her, Najafi had taken a blade to the chest. He cried out in pain, which turned into a sick, gurgling sound as his lungs filled with blood and bright red, foamy bubbles formed around his open mouth.

  The sight of it all made her pause. A terrible mistake. The next shot aimed in her direction caught her in the side of the neck. The directed energy blast caused material from her suit to fly off in a spray of hot metal. As slowly as things were moving, Gallego couldn’t find the strength to get out of the way before the second shot caught her in the shoulder. This sent her reeling backwards, at which point, a third and fourth hit her square in the chest and sent her to the floor.

  Once again, the suit prevented her skin from being burned and her organs from boiling. But the force knocked her to the floor and caused her to lose all sense of her surroundings. She wasn’t even able to answer her bio monitors as they began screaming for permission to address her shock and blunt trauma. She was also unable to answer the suit’s prompts, telling her that it had lost too much material and was in danger of leaving her exposed.