Part III
forty-one
As Rusev’s words and the reality of what they meant sank in, Holly’s first reaction was to unilaterally cut Grav’s communication line to the Karrier to ensure that no one told him of the development until his return. With Grav more than halfway through a high-pressure task that was as important as it was dangerous, he needed to focus solely on its completion.
But for Holly and the rest of the group, all there was to focus on was the gut-wrenching news which accompanied the heart-wrenching images: Terradox had fallen, seemingly into the hands of a terroristic group loyal to Roger Morrison.
The next image Rusev displayed for the group to see, while less nauseating than those before it, surprised Holly just as much. The main screen in the Karrier’s control room now displayed a high-resolution photograph of a lone figure, unmistakable to Holly as a man she had briefly spoken to in Terradox Central Station moments after switching tour groups to remain close to young CeCe and DeeDee Bouchard.
“This man was travelling under the name Chandler Rutherford,” Rusev said, still delivering the pertinent details without pause given that the communications delay made live back-and-forth conversation frustratingly difficult.
That was it, Holly thought. Rutherford.
“Who? I’ve never seen that man in my life,” Dimitar Rusev said, speaking directly to those in the room rather than his mother.
Ekaterina Rusev continued. “The real Chandler Rutherford was an English antique dealer who purchased a ticket to Terradox eight months ago. We have recently learned that he missed an important appointment two days before the Ferrier left Earth for Terradox. We believe he was killed and that the impersonator went to great lengths to ensure a passable likeness. This next image, taken a few months ago, shows the real Rutherford.”
Holly saw an amiable-looking man in his fifties whose most noticeable features were his high-set cheekbones and unusually prominent eyebrows.
“And this next image shows the imposter as he looked prior to assuming Rutherford’s identity,” Rusev went on. “I’m sure he will be instantly familiar to you all as David Boyce, the Australian prison guard implicated in the deaths of Roger Morrison and several key witnesses immediately before Morrison’s trial was set to begin.”
Even with the element of surprise removed by Rusev’s introduction, the sudden appearance of Boyce’s familiar face next to Rutherford’s sent shock waves around the control room. At a single glance Holly knew that the surgery Boyce had undertaken to convincingly resemble Rutherford went beyond the typically cosmetic and well into the realms of the facially reconstructive. To Holly, the only thing more striking than the post-surgery resemblance was the extent of the surgery required to get there. The eyebrows were one thing, but the structural changes to Boyce’s jaw and particularly his cheekbones were something else entirely.
“What about the iris scans?” Bo asked, instinctively speaking to Rusev despite the cumbersome communications delay. “How could he get past the scanners at the entrance to the Ferrier?”
“This Rutherford guy is dead,” Peter Ospanov said. “And wherever his corpse may be, I have a feeling that it has no eyes.”
Dimitar Rusev then shushed Bo’s sceptical reply to Peter’s grisly suggestion in order to hear his mother’s comments that Boyce had essentially defeated the TMC’s supposedly unbeatable security measures by utilising a strategy they hadn’t been looking out for: the strategy of not merely trying to blend in as a tourist, but of undergoing extensive surgery to pass as a specific tourist who had already cleared the in-depth screening and approval processes when applying for his ticket in the first place.
Before Rusev replied to the first of the group’s questions as they began to reach her, she revealed that only two individual guards on Terradox appeared to have been in on the plot. Although both had been immediately identified, no reasonable motives had yet been suggested; neither man’s history on Earth gave rise to any obvious reason for a grievance against the TMC or loyalty to the GU. Both were in their mid-30s and both were Australian, a point which inevitably raised suggestions of links to Morrison’s inner circle. Despite these suggestions and the ongoing all-hands-on-deck work at various Earth-based intelligence agencies, no illuminating details had arisen in the short time since Boyce’s coup.
But given David Boyce’s method of reaching Terradox, no one considered it out of the question that his two accomplices may have undergone similarly extensive surgery to successfully assume alternative identities. Whatever the details, both men had been on duty on Terradox for several months; by any measure, theirs was a long con.
At first, the idea that three foxes in the Terradox henhouse could overwhelm dozens of honest guards struck Holly as difficult to believe. But as she recalled how spread out the guards had been, she began to think that picking them off one-by-one wasn’t entirely out of the question. Rusev’s confirmation that a large portion of the guards had been killed while off-duty — many while asleep — further reduced the implausibility.
The issue of how just three coordinated individuals now controlled a romosphere which housed 400 tourists was less difficult for Holly to get her head around; those tourists had travelled to Terradox to relax, to explore, and to have fun. Boyce, on the other hand, had travelled there to kill. One common theme from Grav’s old war stories was that unequal preparation could more than cancel out unequal numbers, as he knew from being on both sides of such numerical imbalances.
Rusev’s final comment before addressing the group’s questions served to relay to them that Boyce’s pre-departure movements on Earth would be analysed in an effort to identify any more accomplices who had made his feat possible, with Earth’s leaders already having privately vowed to deal with those involved as robustly as necessary to eradicate any and all terroristic cells operating in the shadows.
A question posed to whoever was listening by Robert Harrington a short while earlier — “Does it not seem a little too convenient that so much of our attention was on a distant threat at the exact moment Boyce pounced?” — drew an uncomfortable reply from Rusev as soon as it reached her.
“The timing does raise questions,” Rusev said. “And unfortunately we — we being station management and senior TMC figures — are working on the assumption that Boyce or a close associate initiated the sudden expansion of Netherdox. We believe he did so not in a direct attempt to destroy Terradox or the station but rather in an attempt to pose an exploitable distraction. His position as a member of Morrison’s inner circle certainly lends credence to the idea that he could have had access to Morrison’s own Earth-based control bunker, which still hasn’t been found. There are questions about the timescale, given that he was already on the Ferrier when we noticed the expansion, but at this stage we consider his involvement extremely likely.”
Holly was now finding it increasingly difficult to breathe, as though the air was being sucked from the Karrier with each successive revelation.
“The issue of remote access to a romosphere’s control system is not a simple one,” Rusev went on. “All remote access to Terradox, for example, has for a long time been disabled precisely in case the access codes ever fell into the hands of someone who wished harm on Terradox. You may be asking why the TMC didn’t also change the access codes for Netherdox or indeed block all remote access. The problem is that those access codes, both remote and physical, can only be changed or removed by someone physically present on the romosphere in question. That’s why Boyce could remotely access Netherdox to increase its expansion but it’s also why he couldn’t lock you out by changing the bunker’s physical access code. It’s a bizarre system and we’re working within an ecosystem of contradictory constraints and vulnerabilities not because we designed it like that, but because Morrison did. We of course know the Netherdox remote access codes, which is why we believe that Boyce deliberately increased the cloud coverage on Netherdox to the intense levels you encountered in the hope that it would block our ow
n remote ability to access the control system and deal with the threat he created, as proved to be the case.”
The one thought in Holly’s mind now was how glad she was that Grav had changed Netherdox’s access and control codes from within its bunker, seconds before an influx of corrosive gas had forced them both to flee. She knew that Grav’s actions could prove tremendously important by ensuring that neither Boyce nor any potential associates on Earth could ever again use Netherdox as a weapon.
But this thought proved only momentarily relieving. Within seconds, Holly realised that Boyce’s newfound control of Terradox could enable him to use that much larger romosphere as a weapon. The rapid expansion and change of path of a romosphere as large as Terradox could pose a tangible and cataclysmic physical threat to the Venus station within days and to Earth within weeks at most.
“The question of access to Terradox’s local control system is not an immediate concern of the TMC,” Rusev continued, somewhat reducing Holly’s immediate concern. “Unlike those for Netherdox, Terradox’s system access codes have long been changed from Morrison’s originals. Only a door separates Boyce from the bunker itself, but to access the control system he needs the codes. The only person on Terradox who knew those codes was a trustworthy senior guard who has already been killed. Boyce has made no attempt to access the system, which we believe is something he would have done prior to announcing his takeover had he been able to do so.”
“If he cannot get into the system, he has nothing to celebrate,” Peter said, mainly to himself.
“Now…” Rusev said, her tone lowering slightly. “I have covered the who and I have touched on the how. Next comes why. Boyce has already broadcast a message directly to Earth as well as to the station. He has one threat and one demand.”
The threat was obvious, visually evident in the image of several hundred frightened hostages. Holly held her breath for the demand.
Rusev, clearly as distressed as anyone, took a deep breath before continuing: “Boyce announced that four days from now, on the day of the Resort’s long-planned Anniversary Gala, one of two things is going to happen. Either everyone on Terradox will die, or the ‘leeches and traitors of Terradox’ will travel there to kneel before him and accept their fate.”
No one in the Karrier spoke.
“We have four days to give him what he wants,” Rusev said, “and what he wants is us.”
forty-two
“It’s as simple as that,” Ekaterina Rusev said, addressing the group in a tone that had grown progressively more weary throughout her rundown of David Boyce’s Terradox takeover. Now that she had relayed his demand for the ‘leeches and traitors’ to make their way to Terradox for their summary executions, a designation sure to include herself and Holly, Rusev suddenly cleared her throat and began to speak more firmly.
“We have yet to reply to Boyce’s demand,” she went on, “but the developing consensus is that we cannot be seen to negotiate with terrorists. A precedent of negotiating cannot be set, which is the reasoning of the Earth-based leaders and even some high-ranking TMC officials who have already posited a decisive bombardment. No one wants to do this, but we are facing a severe lack of options.”
“If there’s really only three of them, surely we can take them out from the ground,” Bo said. “We can trick them by bringing more people than we say we will, and we can overwhelm them.” In the absence of Grav and with Holly still looking squarely at the screen, Bo searched the room for potentially agreeable faces. “Right, Peter?”
Peter Ospanov nodded, slowly at first and then with more commitment. “The Karrier can shield all life signatures and the VUVs would allow us to cover long distances without detection. These scumbags have no access to heavy weaponry and no access to numerical reinforcements. Whatever anyone thinks about what we should do, there is an open door.”
“Please do not fill his head with foolish hope from blind analysis,” Dimitar said, rebuking Peter with an uncharacteristic curtness. “If the consensus is bombardment, the consensus is bombardment.”
“What consensus?” Peter shot back. “You think Grav will consent to that kind of bullshit? You think Holly will?”
As all eyes turned to Holly, hers turned to the control console’s tracking screen in an effort to see where Grav was. The news on that front, at least, was positive: he was heading straight for the Karrier.
Holly held a finger to her lips before reopening Grav’s communications line.
“Hollywood… everything okay?” Grav asked. “The comms link was down. My job out here is done. Tell Sakura to be ready at the outer seal in two minutes; I picked up the upper section of a pack-defence romodroid so we can analyse it, but I need her to confirm that it is definitely dead.”
“It’s dead,” Sakura said loudly. “It was never alive, but if the upper section is fully severed then no operations can continue. I would be more worried about atmospheric contaminants than anything else.”
“Understood,” Grav replied. “I will place it inside a secure isolation bay.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence and with Grav no longer listening in, Peter calmly reasserted to Dimitar that there was no chance he would even consider leaving the hostages on Terradox for dead, let alone authorise an action which would hasten their demise.
Dimitar kept quiet, saving his argument for when he would really need it.
“Everyone else out,” Holly ordered when Grav walked into the Karrier’s control room with a smile on his face. “Right now.”
Peter, Viola, Bo, Robert and Sakura all stepped into the corridor. Dimitar Rusev stayed put, unbudgingly meeting Holly’s impatient gaze.
“What did I miss?” Grav asked, still upbeat having succeeded in his task of eliminating the vehicles and romodroids inside the charging ports dotted around Netherdox’s jet-black surface.
Holly decided that Dimitar’s presence, trivial in relation to what was happening on Terradox, wasn’t worthy of a single moment of argument. She directed Grav to the screen and skipped back to the start of Ekaterina Rusev’s audio-visual explanation, rushing through the images from there and telling him what had happened as plainly and explicitly as she could.
The door between the control room and the corridor remained open, with the rest of the group peering in to see how Grav would react as the footage played. By the end his upbeat smile was long gone, but the furious and explosive reaction some had expected did not materialise. The full extent of his physical reaction was his right hand massaging his chin in a display of deep thought. Eventually, he turned away from the last of the images and directed four words to Holly: “We can do it.”
“Exactly,” Peter said, inviting himself back into the control room and taking a position beside Grav from where he stared intensely at Dimitar. “We can do it, and we will do it.”
“Wait…” Grav said, talking to Dimitar. “You want to do nothing?”
“Worse,” Peter butted in. “He wants to blow them up.”
Dimitar sighed and shook his head. “This is not black and white. And even if we all agreed, there are others involved in this decision. There are very real and very good reasons why we cannot be seen to give him what he wants, even if it is part of a ruse. If the ruse fails, the precedent we set by following his order to travel there is going to be extremely dangerous. It’s not just the station management who have a say in this, Grav. The people at the TMC, leaders on Earth, they’re all going to be part of the discussions to decide—”
“To decide nothing!” Grav snapped, flipping into a rage with a suddenness that took even Holly by surprise. “Where are these assholes right now, Dimitar? Tell me that. Are they on Netherdox getting their hands dirty, or are they sitting comfortably in their ivory towers? They decide nothing. I decide. We decide.” Grav then turned back to the communications console and looked at the incoming feed which displayed Ekaterina Rusev’s concerned face. “You are with me on this… surely?”
“There’s a delay each way,” B
o chimed in from the doorway. “She won’t hear your question for about 40 seconds and you won’t hear her answer for twice as long. But I’m with you.”
“Thank you, junior,” Grav said. “And you, Hollywood?”
“As far as I’m concerned, we took a much bigger risk coming here,” Holly said. “And we’ve already had this argument: some people wanted to bombard Netherdox, which would have put everyone on Terradox at risk, but we saw an alternative option and we took it. The only difference this time is that we know exactly what we’re up against. The worst that can happen is that our plan to take Boyce out fails and he kills the hostages before we reach him, which is no worse than what happens if we do nothing. Talking about precedents is an excuse for doing nothing.”
“I know this is an emotive issue,” Dimitar said, talking more calmly than anyone else, “but we have to try to maintain a rational view.”
“The Rusev name will be dirt,” Grav replied, his voice low but still intense rather than calm. He gestured towards the screen, still showing Ekaterina Rusev. “If this is blocked because of you two, the Rusev name will be dirt. Everyone will know that your cowardice killed hundreds of innocent people.”
Dimitar breathed deeply, fighting to keep his composure. “I’ll say this once, Grav, and it is a direct order. You do not—”
“Fuck you and fuck your orders.”
Dimitar shook his head. “Holly, take us to the station,” he said before heading for the doorway.
“That is right, walk away,” Grav called after him. “Your father, the real Rusev, would never have stood for this kind of bullshit. When the militants attacked his facility on Devastation Day, he presented himself as a distraction and saved dozens of his employees’ lives. Remember that? But you? You would have walked away. Run away! Hid! That is the difference. Right now, he is spinning in his grave.”
Terradox Quadrilogy Page 51
