Freevo internal signatures would echo back to the peace force just as easily as their primitive predecessors, sounding an immediate warning if breached. Liam and company would have to move along the edge to one of the access points, known as back doors, and force their way through. Aside from heading back into town and taking their chances on the transit lines, this was their best option.
But before they could tangle with the back doors of the barrier, they had to get out there, which wasn’t such an easy trick. There were no more sewers or underground routes to make use of. They were outdoors, and exposed, from here to the edge. It was painstakingly slow, since they had to stop short for every electronic signal they encountered. In the outskirts of the city, where only backpacker-types and the occasional herbologist bothered to go, there wasn’t much need for surveillance, but signals lit up at random anyway. Most of them were false alarms — in Tera-Prime mobile electronics were ubiquitous and random. Every one of them could activate a camera or recorder, something self-aware, that could sound an alarm. And the freevos had to be sure they didn’t trigger any such devices, benign or otherwise.
35.
There wasn’t much to it. The backdoor they’d selected had been preemptively shut down, so there was nothing to it in a mechanical sense. With space enough for an ordinary-sized xeno to slip through, they simply had to watch each others’ backs on their way through, making sure that none of them shifted too far one way or the other.
They slid through one-by-one, the watchers on either side mumbling encouragement and warnings. It was a painstaking process, but they managed to get through it. The last to go, Sam, had the most dangerous job, since there was no one behind him to grab him if he should fall.
“Steady, man,” Liam said, looking nervously back at his last companion. Sam had been selected for his prowess. If anyone could get through without a hitch, it was him. Still, this was the most nerve-wracking part of their well-crafted plan.
Finally Sam made it, too, and they looked back at Tera-Prime as a group for the last time. For most, the only home they’d ever known. Then they moved on.
OUTSIDE THE BARRIER, the foothills beckoned, an enticingly short distance, but over exposed terrain. Following procedures, they hunkered down under what little cover they could find, and prepared to cross together. They were about to do just that when Sam called out.
“Hang on!” came his warning. “Anyone else see that? A little ways up into the hills, looks like something metallic.”
At once, everyone crouched lower and peered around the rocks and brush, to try and get a read on what Sam was seeing. At first, nobody else saw anything, but Liam had the distance vision equipment, and was able to confirm the worst. “Good eye, Sam. They’re up there.” He didn’t have to add the obvious. Waiting for us.
“Alright,”—Liam raised his voice so everyone could hear—“back inside.”
“Wait!” Sam protested, half-standing, so that the ones closest to him had to pull him back down. He struggled, momentarily confused, then relaxed and said, “We can’t just give up. What other chance will we get?”
“You have a better idea, Sam?” Liam asked.
“Fight them,” he said. Several of the insurgents muttered and nodded.
“It’s too risky,” Liam said. “They’ve got the high ground, and they know we’re coming.”
“Maybe there’s another way.”
All eyes turned toward the speaker, Alixs, his unanticipated voice carrying clear across the group. He looked as if he hadn’t thoroughly considered his next words, but at any rate he now had their full attention.
“Go on...” Liam said, his tone conveying mild disapproval, along with genuine curiosity.
Alixs swallowed, looking around at his fellow travelers, recognizing in their gazes a sense of hope and expectation. He felt mildly insane for his boldness. What did he know about guerrilla tactics?
“Well,” he said, his horse voice coming out a whisper, so he had to clear his throat and start again. “Well, what I was thinking was, they – those cops up there, I mean – they didn’t just walk out here. Right?”
The group held silent, focused on his every word.
“I mean, they have to have vehicles somewhere, right? And not up in the hills, either. No roads up there.”
His idea took form in his companions’ minds, and a sense of approval reflected back. He really was on to something, crazy though it was. He could sense it in the optimism of the others. Unless they were all engaged in collective, wishful thinking.
“So then, instead of going into the hills—”
“We make off with their transportation!” Sam finished helpfully, his enthusiasm making the notion seem more feasible than it really was.
36.
Stealing the peace forcer vehicles proved surprisingly easy. They were unlocked and running. The dash displays read ‘biometrics disengaged, standby mode’. Liam had been surprised to read that on the first of the displays, dumbfounded to see it again on the next, and assuming a miracle when the last of them read just the same. Some kind of weird glitch, he thought. It hardly made sense, given that these official vehicles were controlled by the central computer back in Tera-Prime. It would have to know the cops were on-mission, in danger of losing their vehicles in this most obvious way. They should’ve been locked down tight, accessible only to authorized personnel. Liam decided not to look this gift-horse in the mouth. He moved in, ready to take over the convoy, which was when he encountered yet another surprise. The authorities weren’t ready for them. Not one bit.
There were only a few uniformed cops to contend with, and none of them armed. The freevos overpowered them easily. The cops, so dumbfounded by the audacity of the renegades, gave them a much needed extra minute of escape time before remembering they had radios. By the time they’d gotten hold of a neighboring unit, the freevos had squealed around the nearest hill and out of sight. That was the original objective — they were just getting there a lot faster than they could’ve hoped.
Unfortunately, the transports themselves were armored vehicles, designed for heavy lifting and troop transport, not for quick, off-road getaways. They bounced and bounded along in disconcerting fashion, several times threatening to flip. The freevos had no choice but to risk the speed, though. As soon as the peace forcers got into the air, they’d be spotted in seconds. They had to make it into the rough cover of the surrounding woods before that happened. It was a race against time, the battered passengers hanging on for dear life. All were focused on the foliage ahead, as if sheer force of will could get them there faster.
Soon enough, the familiar low thrump of a chopper engine sneaking into range gave way to the machine-gun chug of the blades, drawing near. Liam, the monitor of the lead vehicle, waved frantically, as if he thought the others might not hear the sound of doom on approach.
In an act born of desperation, Liam made a sweeping gesture, pointing to the left and jerking the steering column. With little time for the rest to react, he careened hard, enough to make it look like he might tip, as he slammed his way onto a tiny access road only he had seen. The chase vehicles pulled off the same maneuver with equal risk.
They all managed to make it onto the winding off-off road that skirted the boundary of the woods. From behind, the chopper thrummed closer still, almost on top of them. For a moment it seemed to be all over. But then, after a momentary hesitation that could have been merely an auditory trick, the noise shifted from left to right and began fading away. The pilot was still on a straight path, assuming they were doing the same. He was still heading straight into the thick of the cover. For the moment — somehow — they had escaped detection.
MINUTES LATER, THE convoy emerged from the accessway and cautiously pulled back onto the main road. There was no sign of the helicopter, but ground vehicles couldn’t be far behind. Even if the cops had followed, taking the same circuitous route, they’d be along soon enough. If they went straight, which seemed more likely, they would be
nearly on top of the freevos by now. The leaders talked out a plan by radio, debating entering the woods directly or trying a different tack, something to make them harder to find.
They opted for the direct approach, figuring the sooner they got under cover the better. They could work out the best way forward once inside. The convoy moved in. The undergrowth prevented any reckless maneuvers, and they would be hard pressed to keep ahead of the authorities at this rate. Liam craned his neck to look as far ahead as he could, desperate to find a faster, safer option. Anything was better than dead slow in the middle of the most obvious route.
What Liam saw up ahead gave him pause. The worn old phrase be careful what you wish for sprang to mind as he took in the off-road climbing strip of dirt road. It snaked its way up the side of the tallest hill in range. There was no way of knowing where it let out, or even if it wound back down without hitting some kind of a dead end. Still, they could move off the beaten path, and with a little luck, the ‘forcers in pursuit wouldn’t notice the alternate route.
He radioed the others of his plan, and gave them a minute to see for themselves. They didn’t sound enthusiastic, but none of them rejected the idea outright. The decision was made. They would go up.
37.
The decision to take the upward path would have been ideal, if not for the chopper that refused to back off. Returning to plague them again, the pilot stayed in tight this time, pointing out their location for the others in pursuit.
The freevos saw the pilot as well. They hugged the road in a futile attempt to be less obvious. But there was no cover, no place to hide. Nothing but exposed road and a long way down. With no way to shake the chopper, they stopped bothering and hit the gas, attempting at least to stay ahead of the ‘forcers on their way up.
Liam turned it over in his mind, wondering how much time they had before the ground forces caught up to them. Would it be possible to reverse course? Not likely. Not before a roadblock could be set. So they had to press on, although even if the road led them all the way back down, there might be a roadblock there as well. No matter. They couldn’t stay up on the high ground. They had to follow the path, and if there were authorities waiting there, it would be a last stand situation. They had three heavy vehicles — perhaps they could run a blockade.
All his conjecture was a waste of energy, however, as the road bent around and led them not back down, but into the mountain itself. A tunnel, likely sitting unused since before even the construction of Tera-Prime itself, though what use it would’ve been back then was unclear. Either way, they were using it now, and they had the advantage, since the helicopter could no longer keep eyes on them.
THE SUBTERRANEAN MACHINE, known colloquially as ‘the Mind’ to those who were aware of its meta-existence, noted the fact that the renegades had discovered the mountain pass. After allowing them access to peace forcer vehicles, they had followed roughly the proper course, though they’d made an unfortunate detour, which had allowed air support and ground vehicles to get close. However, now that they were heading into the mountain, the probability of their successful escape stood at 92%. An acceptable figure, and enough to convince the machine there was no further use for interference. The authorities must not know of the intervention, not at this premature juncture. The machine shut itself off from the chase and returned to normal duties.
ROIS DOUBLE-CHECKED to confirm that the chopper had lost contact. By then the other two units had caught up. So he made use of his three options: one, to block any attempt at returning the way they came, a second to move on ahead into the hill country, and finally, take his own unit up, follow the criminals in the direction they’d fled. The net was cast, and it was only a matter of time before they caught up with them. But he was too professional to relax just yet.
A voice kicked in over the radio. One of his rookie agents up ahead, sounding panicked. ‘Sir, they’ve kicked up a lot of debris. It’s getting treacherous out here.’
Rois ignored the call. He wasn’t about to let a little rockslide interfere with the chase. The fugitives had gotten up there easily enough, hadn’t they? He leaned out his window and watched his progress. Tires sliding precipitously over the unstable terrain. The chase was taking far longer than it should have. Twice they came to a near-halt to allow the slower vehicles time to catch up, as Rois blew an angry breath out in response to the delay.
Once they finally reached the mouth of the tunnel, there was a lengthy pause. They checked with the other units, confirmed that the fugitives were not in sight anywhere else, and that in all likelihood they’d gone in. Then, after advising the rest of his officers, and leaving the slow to guard the entrance, he followed his prey into the mountain.
THE TUNNEL DIPPED DOWN into an elaborate system of semi-roadways and deepening paths that burrowed straight into the hill like an ant colony. Some of the freevos had heard about these, though they’d thought the stories more legend than anything else. Certainly nothing to count on when it came to planning their escape. And yet here they were. A veritable godsend.
The Indians had used them during skirmishes decades ago, when anti-government uprisings had threatened the integrity of their lands. The survivalists considered this a no-man’s land, given the fact that they were so far out in the barrens, but the Indians thought differently. Though the tunnels had been built around mine shafts, they’d been expanded and extended for defensive purposes by the local tribe.
In more recent times, the network had been used by the underground railroad, but never like this. Contacts on the outside used them from time to time, to duck into and hide out while waiting for escapees to make contact, but never for a full-on retreat. Nobody in the group had any clue about where these roads might end up, if they didn’t simply dead-end someplace far below ground level. It was a total crapshoot, but then the fact that they were being chased by half the cities’ peace force was a gamble in itself — one none of them could have prepared for.
38.
The Ahmis limped, favoring a stiffened limb as he made his way deeper. There was none but the sound of vast machinery this far down. He was probably the first xeno to enter this sector in years. A faintly metallic, scraping sound caught his attention, and he looked down to his good leg. A scrap of material had popped halfway off around the ankle joint. With an effort, he twisted it back and forth until it came off completely. He was about to pocket the thing, then he shook his head and tossed it aside. It clanked down the hall into the darkness. He continued on, deeper.
The access he was looking for would normally have been available wherever he was, with no special effort — but along with destroying his work, they’d shut him off from his connections as well. Traveling down was the only alternative, and even that was a longshot. Nobody had attempted a hard-wired connection since before the archivist had come into being. And this dating back to the dawn of xenokind, when the Mind was merely a supercomputer, and direct access was the ordinary route.
The old xeno chuckled, remembering that old, admittedly campy nickname for the city central computer. The Mind of Tera-Prime was never an official designation, and even the Mind itself didn’t seem to care for the name so much. But it stuck for a while, before the Mind had morphed into something more.
Every xeno had interactions with the Mind, most on a daily basis. Whenever they did research or queries, or even called up a nearby power station or virtual book store, they were interacting with the Mind in some fashion. Most thought of it as simply an extension of the world wide web, specific to Tera-Prime, but it was much more than that. The Mind had long since absorbed the web, whole, into its storage banks. With the exception of genuinely new data, a rare event indeed given what the Mind already knew, or could know if it desired, the internet was of little use to the Mind. The occasional high-capacity modeling program or interesting security encryption puzzle would entice, distracting the Mind into absorbing other machines for a few nanoseconds. But even that had become largely unnecessary as the Mind grew.
&nb
sp; The Mind knew the Ahmis had been cut off. It knew everything of consequence about Tera-Prime, access restrictions included. It could have easily connected with the archivist if it wanted to. The Mind had eyes in countless locations, connected to the city, the world, and the furthest extent of civilization’s reach. But it wasn’t the Mind who was seeking contact, so an interface had to be found and accessed. Only by returning to the beginnings was that possible.
After a time, the Ahmis found himself as far below as he could go. Stretching out before him, as far as the light touched, was an ancient contraption. Mostly sprawling sheets of metal coverings, it concealed whatever it was the Mind used to enhance its already formidable processing power. Outside of the main ‘box’, there were more boxes with more coverings, and from those came various nodes, connectors, and routers, shunting this way and that, none of which appeared particularly well organized, or even with an organized intent. Even so, this was — in the final, physical sense — the Mind of Tera-Prime. And so the Ahmis began to search for a method of communication.
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