The Dying Light
Page 30
Mavalhin shot the security chief a sharp look. “I paid all the money back!”
“Eventually, and only because—”
“I haven’t got time for this!” Roche’s bellow startled them both to silence. It had been effective, but she hoped her voice hadn’t carried too far. “Myer, you come with me. I’m looking for maximum security cells, possibly with medical facilities.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Lead the way.”
Roche’s laugh was brief and humorless. “I don’t think so,” she said. “If I’m going to be led into a trap, I’m making sure you’re right there in front of me, Myer.”
“Were you always this suspicious, Morgan?”
“Just move it.”
He swallowed under her glare. “Okay. This way, I think.”
She followed him into the black zone, down a corridor that looked no different from any of the others they had traversed. They passed several closed doors, but none of them looked secure enough to be cells, and Mavalhin didn’t stop.
Their movements were cautious and relatively quiet, and there had been no signs of any other guards. Nevertheless,
Roche remained tense and uneasy. She knew that setting off just one internal alarm would change everything
“Here.” Mavalhin pointed through a closed transparent door.
Roche peered in and saw steel-gray bulkheads, six down each side of a wide corridor. Everything about them said high security to her.
There was a panel by the side of the door.
She did so.
The door clicked and hissed slowly open. Roche nudged Mavalhin ahead of her. The first door on her left had a transparent panel at eye level. She peered through it, but saw nothing except for featureless walls and floor. The cell was empty.
So was the one opposite, and the next one along. All twelve, in fact, turned out to be empty.
“Are these the only cells here, Myer?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “At least they’re the only ones I ever saw down here.” He led her out of the corridor. “See, there’s a dead end, and that leads to the way we came.”
“Damn.” She cursed their luck, but quickly regained her composure. She needed to stay focused. “Okay, then. It’s back the way we came.” To the Box she said:
Disisto looked worried when she walked into the room, which surprised her. If anything, she would have expected him to have been relieved to see her empty-handed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head. “When do I get to talk to the chief?”
“Later,” she said, shepherding him and Mavalhin ahead of her. “Just keep moving.”
Back in the elevator, Roche checked the status of the battle outside. The all-suits had retreated entirely, apart from a few of those teleoperated by the Box or the outriggers aboard the Ana Vereine. Casualties were higher than Roche would have liked. They were down to forty fully functioning all-suits, while the station had lost just ten singleships. Half of the prowling mines had been disabled and their hulks were drifting steadily away from the battle. The Ana Vereine had also pulled back, as though reassessing its options, and conducted only the occasional raid on the station.
There was little point in maintaining the illusion that the attack had merely paused and would begin again at any moment. Rufo and the Kesh somehow knew that she was inside. And when the attack resumed, they would know that she was preparing to leave.
She acknowledged the news with merely a grunt. Time was definitely running out.
“Do you know the other security compound at all?” she asked Mavalhin.
The pilot shook his head. Even through his suit’s helmet she could see the sweat trickling down his face. “Sorry, Morgan.”
The elevator stopped and they disembarked once the Box had assured them the area was clear. The AI had a transit cab waiting for them at the nearest tube entrance. They filed inside, and were rapidly whisked around the equator of the station’s inner perimeter. At the other end, they found another elevator and went down several levels.
“I think I should try to get in contact with someone,” said Disisto.
“Only when we’ve got nothing to bargain with.”
“You haven’t anything now!” he shot back. “You’re not exactly doing that great out there.”
“We’re doing all right,” she said.
“You could at least try.”
She turned to face him. He looked worse than Mavalhin. “Why? We’ve got this far without bargaining.”
He didn’t answer.
Doubt suddenly flooded through her. “It’s been too easy, hasn’t it? That’s what’s worrying you...”
Still he said nothing.
The elevator was two floors away from stopping.
The cab decelerated suddenly. The map showed a maze of corridors at that level; a maintenance and storage floor that promised to be mostly empty.
Roche belatedly remembered the other two drones. She quickly checked through the vision of the one the Box had allocated her, but saw only darkness on most frequencies except infrared, which revealed a dull background of heat. It was almost as though the drone had its faceplate pressed up against something warm. She didn’t have time to work it out, so closed the window to the drone’s viewpoint.
“This way,” said Roche as she exited the elevator. She led them along a winding corridor, keeping one eye on where she was going and the other on the map. Superimposing the two levels was confusing; she relied heavily on the Box to warn her if they were about to run into company. But soon they were where she wanted to be: below their feet, separated by only a meter of decking, was the other black zone.
“This isn’t going to be subtle,” she said to Disisto. “If you have any suggestions on how to minimize possible loss of life, tell me now.”
The security chief warred with himself for a moment, then said: “The closer you get to the middle, the safer it will be. But stay out of the exact center. That would be dangerous.”
When she realized he wasn’t going to provide any more detail, Roche concentrated on finding an appropriate place. She had no way of knowing what they would be going into; she wanted somewhere away from a bulkhead with an enclosed space above it. All she could do was look for the latter in about the right place and hope for the former.
She found a storage hold that looked about right, and with the help of one of the drones began laying charges in the floor. The charges weren’t as precise as she would’ve liked, and their entrance would be all too dramatic, but it was the best she could think of under the circumstances.
When she was ready, she cleared the room. The Box closed the door behind her.
“Five seconds,” she said. “The drones go first, then we all follow. I’ll go last. And remember this,” she added to Disisto and Mavalhin: “One, the longer we’re here, the more likely it is we’ll be trapped; and two, I’m holding a gun to your backs, and I have no intention of
allowing you to slow us down.”
There wasn’t time for either captive to acknowledge her: the charges went off with a force that made even her suit lose its balance. The door came off its tracks, and by the time she was upright again the drones were already pulling it free. On the other side, most of the floor of the room had dropped away in a ragged circular slab, tilted where a wall cut a chord across it from underneath. Smoke and dust filled the air. The drones half-dropped, half-slid down the slab and fired at something she couldn’t see. Roche heard someone call out, but they were abruptly cut short. Somewhere close by, another siren began to wail.
Haid followed the drones. Roche shoved her reluctant captives ahead of her, then followed herself.
She landed on a pile of rubble in the middle of a giant open-space area. Wrecked consoles and desks lay scattered for tens of meters around them; fire burned in carpet that had once been grass-green. Oddly placed panels broke the space into discretely semidetached segments. From behind one such panel, someone was offering resistance and calling for help. The drones ignored that one voice for the moment, concentrating instead on picking out cameras and other security placements throughout the place, disabling them with single, precise shots.
As Roche took her bearings, a door opened in a distant wall and a squad of security guards ran in.
She dropped to one knee and fired. The squad ducked for cover, turning over furniture and scrambling for the nearest panels. Return fire crackled back at her, whining as it ricocheted off her armor. The drones and Haid backed her up from behind the cover of the slab they had ducked behind.
“Which way?” shouted Haid.
Roche glanced around her. The wall through which the guards had entered was curved, as was the wall behind the slab, suggesting that the space was circular, enclosing them. The guards had been on the outer wall, so what they were protecting was farther in.
The inner wall was not far away, near enough for a quick dash. There was a door within sight.
“There!” she shouted, pointing.
“What if it doesn’t open?” Haid called back.
She used the suit’s sensors to zoom closer for a better view. The door was almost flush to the wall, and there didn’t seem to be any way to open it.
“It’ll have to,” she said. “Cover me.”
She shouldered her rifle and darted across the gap.
She had barely reached halfway across when the door opened from the other side, revealing Shak’ni and Haden B’shan. Both Kesh officers were dressed in full battle uniform and holding ceremonial—though clearly functional—weapons.
She didn’t know who was more startled, the Kesh or her. All three lifted their weapons simultaneously, but Shak’ni got in the first shot, catching Roche in the thigh. Her suit shrieked but absorbed the blow.
Her stomach twisted in panic. Kesh weapons were a higher gauge than the ones her suit was designed to withstand. A handful of shots were all it would take—maybe as few as three. But that might be all she needed...
She called up the menu on her rifle as a second shot from Shak’ni hit her in the visor. She blinked but managed to select the options she required. B’shan went for her knees, and made her stagger. She aimed the rifle and fired just as Shak’ni caught her a third time, in the chest, knocking her backwards and off her feet.
Aimed up and between the two Kesh warriors, the percussion charge struck the ceiling just inside the door and exploded violently, tearing another hole in the already damaged ceiling. Half of the door went with it, along with B’shan and Shak’ni.
Roche rolled out of the shock wave and was on her feet before anyone else had recovered. Her ears rang and the suit seemed a little stiff, but she was otherwise unharmed. The two Kesh stirred weakly some distance from what remained of the door. Haid and the others were already moving.
More guards appeared off to the left, hugging the curve of the wall.
“Okay, Disisto!” she shouted as she pushed him ahead of her into the ruined doorway. “Now you can talk to them!”
“Very funny, Roche!” he called back over his shoulder.
She fired another percussion charge into the floor behind them, hoping its partial collapse would delay pursuit for a moment or two. She could already hear Shak’ni bellowing for assistance.
“I’m serious, Disisto,” she said. “I need you to stay here and tell them what I want. This is your one and only chance to mediate. But I suggest you think fast about what you’re going to say, because Shak’ni won’t be in the mood for listening.”
Disisto looked sick with worry, but Roche didn’t have time to concern herself with that at the moment. Haid had already gone through the inner door with Mavalhin and one of the drones, leaving her to follow. The most she could do was leave him a drone for support.
“Box, do your best to keep him alive, will you?” She patted Disisto roughly on the shoulder. “Good luck,” she said, meaning it, then ducked through the doorway after the others.
There was a palm-lock on the far side, which the Box made short work of, shutting the door on the sounds of the weapons from outside. Roche heard Disisto offer a wry “Thanks” before the door slammed shut.
Then silence.
Only then did she really take the time to look around.
She was in a corridor that curved away uninterrupted in either direction. There seemed to be no one about, and no doors. There was no sign of the others through the lingering smoke and dust, and for a moment she felt panic.
MORGAN, IS THAT YOU? There was no point hiding transmissions anymore.
HEAD TO YOUR LEFT. I THINK WE’VE FOUND WHAT WE’RE LOOKING FOR.
The corridor led her to an antechamber barely large enough for the four of them. Two consoles faced away from the way she’d come in, next to a door that looked solid enough to stop a hydraulic ram. Each of the consoles monitored two cells, making four in all.
Haid was fiddling at one of the consoles, while the drone gave the Box access to the other. Mavalhin kept carefully out of the way.
“We seem to have three immobilized prisoners,” said Haid. “One was brought here within the last few hours.”
“That would make sense,” said Roche, “especially if they thought we were coming. It would be easier to defend one area rather than two.”
“So I thought. But the security is tight here. I can’t tell which cell is which. And I can’t get this damned door open, either.”
“Box?”
The AI’s voice issued from the drone’s speakers: “There is a second entry point which must be accessed simultaneously.”
Roche looked around her, then back the way she had come. “What was to the right of the entrance?”
“Another room like this one,” Haid said. “Do you want me to—?”
“No, I’ll go. Just tell me what I need to do when I get there.”
She headed off along the corridor, past the door leading back to where she had left Disisto. Curious, she quickly switched over to the drone’s senses to check what was happening.
The image was poor and breaking up, and the drone itself seemed to be lying on the ground with its head to one side. But Roche was able to make out Shak’ni, along with the dirty black mark marring the harsh perfection of the field officer’s combat armor. He was holding Disisto by the throat with one hand; the other hand held a rifle to the security chief’s head. Disisto’s eyes were closed and he was talking furiously. Roche couldn’t make out what he was saying, however, as the drone was transmitting visual data only.
B’shan stepped out of the background and said something to Shak’ni. The field officer threw Disisto to the floor, then lowered his rifle and fired at the drone. The transmission abruptly ceased.
The sound of gunfire followed her as she raced to the other control room.
It was a mirror image of the one she had just left.
>
She waited for the numbers to scroll down from ten, pressing the button impatiently the precise moment the display reached zero. A warning Klaxon sounded and the door opened with a grinding sound. She grabbed her rifle and approached cautiously.
All she saw was another corridor, curving away to her left.
Two doors appeared, one each to her left and right. They were both closed.
Both doors hissed open. Each was comprised of two panels: the outer panel slid aside; the inner one rose up into the ceiling. There was no way to look into one cell without exposing herself to the other. Roche mentally tossed a coin and stepped forward.
The cell on her right was empty, little more than a four-meter-square space. In its center was a stainless-steel bed uncomfortably reminiscent of an autopsy slab. She snap-turned and aimed her gun into the second cell.
It too was empty.
That left two cells, but there were still three prisoners.
She remembered that Galine Four security knew where she was, not the others.
MORGAN, Haid interrupted. THEY HAVE MAII!
She saw the young Surin reave strapped to one of the steel “beds.” A Kesh guard stood beside her, a pistol pressed firmly to her forehead. The girl seemed oblivious to what was going on around her.
Roche hissed through her teeth. If they hurt her—
“Give up, Roche!” called a voice. “You’re surrounded!”
She didn’t grace the speaker with a reply. The drone turned its head. There were more guards in the room. All held their guns on Haid, the drone, and Mavalhin. If she ordered Haid to attack, he would probably win—but not in time to save Maii.