by M. D. Cooper
They were going the right way, according to Myrrdan’s agent’s plan. Exactly the right way.
The agent checked their progress. In another minute, they would arrive at the spot where things would start to get exciting. The agent had a list of actions with rough timings. A couple of minutes lost or gained here or there wouldn’t make a difference, providing everything happened in the correct order.
He looked over his shoulder at the passengers. They gazed out the windows, looking for dolphins, seals, and sea lions. Their stupid faces were expectant, but also perturbed. The agent guessed they were already looking forward to the end of the tour, which was arriving sooner than they thought.
What would the seven passengers do if they knew their lives were soon to come to an end?
The agent was about to find out.
He sent out the instruction to the lab tech. The man cut the engine.
“We’re here,” said a passenger. “Can anyone see any dolphins?”
The amphibian was coasting to a stop and began to drift upward.
The agent sent another instruction. The emergency hatch in the roof of the vehicle opened, and a deluge poured in. Shrieks of terror filled the air. The agent held tight to his armrests as the water swept around his legs. He sent a third instruction, and the vessel’s door opened.
The additional water engulfed the vessel’s interior. The shrieks and screams devolved to gasps, cries, and bubbling, distorted yells. The amphibian was full of scrabbling, clawing hands and feet. Only the agent and the tech remained still. The man sat impassively, held in his seat by his safety belt, as the water rapidly rose up to his chest and covered his head.
When the pressure had sufficiently equalized, the agent kicked off his shoes and swam out of the vehicle, pleased to be free of the clutching hands and the bodies that had buffeted him. His mods allowed him to remain underwater indefinitely, and he was only a little concerned that the same could be true of others in the amphibian, particularly the tech.
There was also the small chance that some of them could be revived after they had drowned. The agent was not prepared to take that chance. If he failed to steal the picotech, he could be identified by anyone who had seen him that day. He had to maintain his anonymity at all costs. Therefore, the park employee and the tourists had to die.
That was not a problem. The agent swam down to the sea floor, where he sought and quickly found a certain group of rocks. The water’s buoyancy made them easy to move, and he revealed the concussive bomb the tech had hidden there weeks previously. The agent removed it and the other hidden equipment that was necessary to his plan.
He swung around to face the amphibian. Lifeless bodies bobbed against the windows. A couple of the passengers had made it out, the strange woman and the man in the hat, though his hat was now floating away on the current. The man appeared to have abandoned his wife.
How ungallant.
The two escapees were quite comical in their mad paddling efforts as they tried to swim to the surface. He would soon put a stop to that, and at the same time, take the picotech guards out of the equation.
The agent activated a grav field around himself and his equipment. Then he set off the bomb.
The effects were spectacular. A visible wave spread out with surprising speed and energy. The grav field deflected the wave, but it crushed everything else it touched. The concussive force struck the two survivors of the flooding of the amphibian and flung them like rag dolls. Their bodies remained intact, but only skin was holding them together. The amphibian shot away and tumbled over and over on the sandy ground.
Confident that the explosion had killed everyone inside the vessel, the agent set out to complete his next task. He deactivated the grav field and set up another item of equipment: a missile launcher. Somewhere on the surface nearby, a gunship floated as part of the picotech security. The concussion wave would not have affected the ship, and it had to be taken out immediately.
The agent set the launcher to target the gunship. He wafted his arms and kicked his legs to swim backward, and then reactivated the grav field. The missile’s guidance system locked onto its target and fired.
In a torrent of churning water, the projectile was gone. All that remained was a stream of bubbles in its wake. Somewhere above, it made contact with its target, and a second shock wave rippled through the water. Broken pieces of wreckage began to rain gently down, spinning in the aftermath of the weapon’s impact.
The agent picked up his third piece of equipment: a submersible scooter. He could swim a long distance beneath the surface, but not quickly. The motor would carry him to the pico worksite and then onward across the Sea of Marmara.
He checked the news feeds. The attack on Government House had begun.
Things are going well.
Now it was time to get his prize.
* * * * *
Gripping the handles of the scooter, Myrrdan’s agent sped from the destroyed amphibian and the corpses within toward the ocean shelf. If his timing was correct, the first explosion would have hit the guards protecting the picotech before the module had been deployed.
The agent was confident that even the guards’ armor would not have saved them from the effect of the bomb, but caution had gotten him this far, and he was not about to abandon it now that he was so near the prize.
He glanced down at the railgun strapped to the scooter. The weapon fired titanium pellet rounds that were designed for underwater use. He placed a hand on it to ensure it was secure.
Next to it was a mono-edged machete that glinted in the rays of sunshine coming down from the surface. Nothing and no one was going to get in his way.
The only noises the agent could hear were the rush of blood in his ears and the distant, unidentifiable sounds of sea creatures. What he feared most was the sound of a motor approaching, which would only mean someone had turned up to kill him. But the only motor noise he could detect was the sound his scooter gave out.
The water grew colder and darker as the agent approached the edge of the ocean. The liquid chilled him as it flowed through his mouth and down into his lungs. The light from the scooter cut through the darkness.
Something crossed the light beam.
The rush of blood grew loud in the agent’s ears. He swung his scooter for a closer look.
It was a guard.
But the man was floating, his arms and legs limp and his head hanging at the wrong angle. The concussive wave had done its work. If the agent had been able to sigh in relief, he would have done so, but his respiration was only working one way. He contented himself with a slow blink.
There would be several more corpses in the vicinity of the pico module, but otherwise, the coast should be clear. He was nearly there.
In front of him, the seabed dropped away precipitously. He was swimming in ocean water, currents from the choppy seas above pushing and pulling at him. But the scooter’s strong motor dragged him inexorably forward. The agent hadn’t been able to ascertain the picotech module’s exact location, but it had to be somewhere nearby.
Another guard’s corpse appeared from the gloom, its form unnaturally twisted. The agent tried to avoid it, but the body crashed into him, and he felt the jellylike interior. He shuddered and heaved the carcass off of him, ducking underneath it. Half-expecting the thing to come to life and grab him, the agent sped away and did not look back.
Then something else emerged from the dark depths of the ocean. Not a dead guard this time, but a sea creature, massive and looming. It was some kind of gigantic shark. The thing was swimming closer.
The agent recalled the intended use of the picotech module. It was there in order to create a viewing platform where visitors could watch for ‘monsters of the deep.’ The shark that was approaching had to be one of those monsters.
Myrrdan’s agent didn’t think it would attack him. No matter how predatory the creature might have been in its original form, all living organisms in New Canaan had been genetically engineere
d to never see humans as prey.
But what if the shark had been impacted by the concussion bomb? What if the wave damaged its brain? What if it had lost its aversion to humans?
The agent turned his scooter to bank away from the approaching creature. But though his machine was fast, it was not as fast as a marine predator like this one.
The shark had almost reached him. Its teeth were as large as the agent’s head. Its mouth was gaping, and its eyes were rolling white.
The agent fired the railgun, but the pellets sank into the monster’s flesh and disappeared without it showing the slightest reaction. He fired again, aiming for the white, terrifying eyes. The shark was upon him.
At the last split second, the scooter pulled the agent from the path of the shark’s maw.
The agent screamed a silent scream, expecting the shark to alter direction and scoop him up in one bite, severing him on those horrifying teeth. But the monster passed him by.
The agent looked into the shark’s eye and then along its long, thick body, clothed in rough, dark skin. The shark wasn’t swimming. It was slowly sinking. Dead.
Fear had confused the agent. The shark hadn’t been swimming toward him; the creature had only been drifting after the concussion bomb had killed it.
He’d wasted more time than he should have. Finding the deployment module and leaving quickly had to remain his only focus now. The distraction at the capital would only divert the security forces for so long.
The scooter pulled him along the edge of the shelf, the black abyss yawning beneath him. The agent redirected the propulsion device to take him back to the seabed.
Then he saw it. Inconspicuous and alone, unactivated and directly below him lay the picotech module. The agent almost released his hold on his scooter in delight. He angled the machine downward, reached out, and grabbed the module, one small box that contained the secret to ultimate and everlasting control of the galaxy.
He opened a sack that hung beneath the propulsion scooter and slipped the module into it.
Joyful triumph was beginning to well up in the agent’s chest. Soon, the long subterfuge would be over. Years of hiding in plain sight would come to an end. The interminable watching, listening, and planning would cease. But he knew he had to stay calm and steady to the end.
Several months previously, on the coast of the Sea of Marmara, in a deserted spot covered in dense vegetation, the agent had concealed a small pinnace. Now that he had secured the picotech, all he had to do was reach the vessel and escape Troy.
He set off.
He soon re-encountered the massive shark, which had come to rest on the seabed. Scavengers were already swarming over the monster, devouring its flesh. The agent continued on, gripping the rail gun. Nothing else should stand in his way on the journey, but he was sticking to his principle of caution at all costs.
He reached the downed amphibian. The free-floating corpses had disappeared, perhaps swept away in the current. Other bodies remained inside the vessel. The agent was about to turn his gaze to his onward route when he saw something new at the scene. Another vessel. A small submersible.
The agent couldn’t understand what the submersible was doing there at first. Backup forces from the capital should not have arrived yet. But what he was looking at was not a vessel of the security forces. It wasn’t armored and it carried no weapons.
Then he saw the safari park’s logo on the side. This was the submersible he’d seen departing the complex earlier. One of the employees must have come to investigate what had happened.
No matter. The railgun would put a quick end to its occupants.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
STELLAR DATE: 05.25.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Government House, Heliopolis, Ithaca
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
Isa was frozen on the staircase inside Government House.
“Is something wrong?” asked Curtis, studying Isa’s face.
It was the third time Isa had spoken to Martin, but he hadn’t said anything after telling her that there had been an attack at the park.
“It’s my—” she began to reply to her companion.
The coup. He’s talking about the coup, she realized.
“Whoa, it never rains but it pours, right? A coup and someone trying to steal picotech on the same day. Who would have thought it?”
“I know.” Isa paused. Her gaze met Curtis’s. “Do you think there’s a connection? It’s way too much of coincidence.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Isa was already deeply worried about Martin and Jude, but this latest revelation almost paralyzed her with fear.
“When my husband said there’d been an attempt to steal the picotech, I thought it was only some fool or lunatic. But what if the thief organized all this?” She gestured toward the doors that led to the lobby. The sounds of the firefight continued to penetrate into the stairwell. “What if the coup is just a distraction to make it easier to steal the tech?”
“Then I’d say you better tell your husband to stay well away. If the thief has the power and cunning to create this kind of uproar and turn a planet upside down, he isn’t someone I’d like to go up against.”
Isa’s fear and tension eased. She hoped Martin wouldn’t encounter the picotech thief on his journey. If the thief had managed to kill the guards and steal the tech, hopefully he would only want to get away as fast as possible. Hopefully he would ignore an innocent scientist and his small companion.
“Everything OK?” Curtis asked.
“He says he found some dead bodies but that he’s going to leave the place now. I hope he makes it back without any problems. He has our son with him.”
Curtis touched her shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll both be fine. Now we just need to sit tight here and wait for things to calm down out there. Darned politicians and warmongers. Why can’t they let us live our lives in peace and quiet?”
They sat on a tread at the edge of the crowd waiting to leave the stairwell.
Isa leapt to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” asked Curtis.
She ran down the stairs, fighting to pass people blocked her way.
“They’re in danger,” she yelled to Curtis, who was following her. “The thief’s spotted them. I have to do something.”
People were clustered a
t the double doors at the bottom, trying to listen to what was happening on the other side. Isa grabbed shoulders and pulled the people out of her path. She had to reach the doors. She had to get to Martin and Jude.
“Isa,” Curtis shouted. “You can’t go out there. You’ll be shot to bits.”
“I can,” Isa shouted back, “and I will!” She breathed in deeply until her lungs were at full capacity. She wrenched the door open and roared into the lobby as loudly as she could, “STOP!”
The gunfire ceased. The astonishment of the soldiers and government security was almost palpable.
Isa didn’t pause to wonder how long their surprise would last. She ran. She crossed the space to the doors opposite in four or five leaping steps and burst through to the stairway to the basement. Behind her, the firefight started up again, but she was safe.
She bounded down the stairs. Curtis had said an autocab station occupied the basement level. She would take a cab back to the gallery, where her aircar was parked on the roof. Then she would fly out to the marine park. The aircar wasn’t rated for submersion, but she would figure out the problem of how to reach Martin and Jude on her way.
She flew through the entrance to the autocab station. There they were, ranks and ranks of them. Isa approached the nearest cab, but it wouldn’t open its door. She strode to the next, and the next. They were all the same—not functioning. She wondered if that was why no cab had come to her while she had been on her way.
Did the picotech thief shut down the service to create more confusion and delay?
She didn’t know, but she had to get to her aircar one way or another. She could see daylight shining through the exit on the far side of the station. If she couldn’t use a cab, she would have to use the next best thing.
She began to run.
When Martin didn’t answer, Isa repeated herself. She still hadn’t gotten an answer by the time she’d reached the other side of the station and was running up the ramp. Isa had been scared that fighting outside the building would prevent her escape from the rear of Government House, but the troops didn’t seem to be targeting that area. The road was deserted. Wise Trojans had gone home to wait out the storm. Isa set off along the street at a sprint.
