‘They came out of nowhere,’ the warrior growled, ‘too many, too much firepower. We were obliterated before we even knew what hit us. Engines gone, crew annihilated, no weapons to return fire. I and a few others made a run for the capsules in the hope that they would think us all dead and pass us by.’
Marshall began to experience a deep sense of dread as he looked into the warrior’s eye.
‘Did you get a look at them? Were they pirates with some kind of new weapon?’
The Ayleean shook his head slowly.
‘They were not pirates,’ he replied. ‘They weren’t even human. There’s something out there and it’s hunting us, hunting anything it encounters.’
***
XVII
Polaris Station
‘Back here, again.’
Detective Vasquez had served almost a decade upon the legendary military station, still by far the largest orbital platform ever constructed by humanity. At some twenty miles in height, and four in circumference, the orbital space station resembled in some respects a giant mushroom with a vertical tail extending down and a spire up from its center, the entire station located in orbit around Saturn’s gigantic rings.
The spectacular panorama of the gas giant’s pale hue and the vast rings was eclipsed by the station’s angular, steel gray bulk as the shuttle moved in toward one of the smaller landing bays around its outer rim. Foxx watched as her companion gazed out at the vast platform, at the constellation of tiny lights flickering around the enormous ring–shaped body, home to some seven thousand fleet personnel on a rotational basis.
Vasquez had served with the Marines before joining the police force in his native New Washington, his military training a vital asset to the force which coveted its former soldier recruits. Foxx knew little of Vasquez’s service history, other than he had served in the Second Ayleean War before being honorably discharged.
‘Home from home?’ Betty asked. ‘My guess is Marines. You miss it?’
Foxx leaned forward and saw in revetments sunk into the station the sight of massive warships belonging to the CSS fleet, anchored in their bays as routine servicing on their immense hulls was carried out by both human and robotic hands. Smaller shuttles on ferry flights reflected the sunlight as they flew out of the station and turned onto headings for other locations in the solar system as Foxx’s shuttle slowed and glided with the effortless grace of space flight toward the landing bays.
‘Not so much,’ Vasquez replied to Betty, still gazing out at the vast station. ‘I was glad to get out.’
‘Did you contact Titan’s armory?’ Foxx asked him as the shuttle flew into Polaris’s enormous landing bay and touched down.
‘Sure,’ Vasquez replied, not taking his eyes off the spectacular view until it was entirely blocked by the more mundane interior of the landing bay. ‘A sergeant there told me that no weapons had gone missing from the armory in years, so we must be mistaken. They have their inventory ready and we’ve been given access to all but the most classified of weapons.’
Foxx frowned. ‘That’s not access to everything though, is it,’ she pointed out. ‘We’re looking for somebody who’s actively trying to smuggle weapons.’
‘Yeah, MM–15 pistols, not some heavily guarded super–weapon,’ Vasquez pointed out. ‘If there’s one place that’s going to be secure on that score it’s the ship’s armory. There must be something else going on here.’
Foxx shrugged as she followed Vasquez off the shuttle’s boarding ramp and into the largest landing bay she’d ever seen. Rank after rank of shuttles and fighters were parked in multiple lines, some of them suspended from overhead cranes as crews worked on them.
‘Now there are some beauties I’d like to get my hands on,’ Betty beamed as she surveyed the ranks of sleek Phantom fighters.
Despite its gargantuan size the bay was immaculately clean, the sound of machinery humming or whining in the background and the smell of ion fuel and lubricants tainting the air.
‘Detective Foxx?’
Foxx turned to see a bulky, fit looking man in a CSS uniform extend his hand to her. ‘Sergeant Higgins, you’re here for the armory.’
It wasn’t a question and both Foxx and Vasquez stepped in line with the sergeant as he gestured toward an exit to their right.
‘We have evidence of former military weapons showing up on the streets of the orbital cities and even on the surface,’ Foxx replied, her own clipped tones mimicking those of the sergeant. ‘We’re here to see if we can back trace the leak.’
‘There’s no leak,’ Higgins replied tersely. ‘I can assure you of that.’
‘These weapons didn’t show up out of thin air,’ Vasquez said. ‘This armory is the only place that decommissioned weapons are sent to after service.’
‘That’s right,’ Higgins said as they walked out of the bay and down a long, immaculately polished corridor lined with soft blue strips of light, ‘and this is where they stay. All weapons are uniquely tagged and catalogued before going into storage or being destroyed. We haven’t had a single firearm go missing for decades, and certainly not since I took over.’
‘You run the armory?’ Betty asked.
‘Not the whole thing, but I control what comes in and what goes out, what form it’s in, how it’s catalogued. If somebody’s been lifting weapons out of the armory, then it’s me.’
Foxx blinked at the sergeant’s forthright statement. ‘So you’re admitting to murder?’
Higgins stopped in his tracks and looked at her. ‘You’re investigating a homicide?’
‘The murder of a man named Anthony Ricard in San Diego,’ Vasquez replied. ‘Although this line of enquiry is not yet directly connected to the homicide case, we believe that the two may be linked.’
Higgins started walking again, a little slower this time. ‘What was the murder weapon?’
‘We don’t know right now, beyond the fact that it was a plasma charge that killed Anthony Ricard,’ Foxx replied. ‘However, in a case on New Washington we recovered from a known criminal an MM–15 plasma pistol.’
‘Former Marine service weapon,’ Higgins replied as they walked, ‘decommissioned a few years back. They’re all stored here in the armory.’
‘How come they’re not destroyed?’ Foxx asked.
‘Prudence,’ Higgins replied. ‘If another war with the Ayleeans kicked off, we’d prefer to have too many weapons than not enough. The MM–15s are kept here in the expectation that we’ll need them again some day.’
Higgins led them to a set of steel doors guarded by four Marines. Foxx and Allen waited as their ID chips were scanned, and then the Marines let them through into a chamber, the doors shutting behind them.
‘Full body scan and weapons detectors,’ Higgins explained as they stood in the chamber.
‘We’re both armed,’ Foxx said. ‘Betty isn’t.’
‘The scanners will have already detected your service weapons and matched them to the police force database,’ Vasquez told her. ‘We’ll be cleared shortly.’
Sergeant Higgins glanced over his shoulder at Vasquez. ‘You been here before?’
‘Fourth Marines,’ Vasquez replied.
Moments later, a small green light appeared on the doors before them and they were allowed access into the outer armory, where two soldiers manned a desk and another security gate. One of the men was human, the other a military Holosap who greeted the sergeant with a sharp salute.
‘At ease,’ Higgins replied as he gestured to the two detectives. ‘Ryan, would you escort these two detectives to the main armory. Give them everything that they need.’
Vasquez’s eyes widened as he stared at the Holosap. ‘Ryan?!’
The Holosap stared back at Vasquez and a mixture of amazement and joy burst upon his features. ‘Vasquez the Vacant!’
The Holosap vanished from the security desk and appeared right alongside Vasquez. ‘Holy crap, bro’!’
‘You two know each other?’ Foxx asked.
‘Hell yeah!�
� Vasquez said as he made to embrace the Holosap and then hesitated as his hands passed through Ryan’s shimmering blue projection. The two men shifted position to try to shake hands instead, and then Ryan sighed and shrugged, slightly embarrassed.
‘Guess we can’t do all that so easily these days,’ Vasquez said.
‘Not so much.’
‘Did you two serve together?’ Sergeant Higgins asked.
‘You bet,’ Ryan nodded eagerly. ‘Two tours outside of Ayleea, CSS Perseus. We got into some right gigs man, I mean, sergeant.’
‘At ease, Ryan,’ Higgins smiled. ‘Why not take an hour off with these guys? I’ll have Seavers come in and take over your post.’
Ryan saluted sharply in delight, and turned to Vasquez. ‘Armory’s this way. Now, what’s this about a homicide, bro’?’
Vasquez filled in his old Marine buddy as Foxx followed, feeling oddly excluded now that Nathan was away on Tethys. She had often been the odd one out at work, Vasquez and Allen working so closely together, like brothers, and she their commanding officer and a woman to boot. But with Nathan suddenly on the scene there had developed a sort of balance, the four of them working together more easily as a team, more equally. In some ways she regretted having Ironside put onto traffic, but he was a stranger in a strange land and it had been the best way to get him some street time to bring him up to speed in New Washington. She didn’t like to admit it to herself, and would never do so to anybody else, but she liked having Ironside around again.
‘Yo, Lieutenant?’ Foxx blinked as Vasquez called her. ‘Ryan here wants to know…’
‘Don’t tell her I said that!’ Ryan snapped.
‘…how military officers are ugly and squat, but police officers got so hot?’
Betty shoved her way in front of Foxx. ‘It’s in our genes,’ she said as she put one hand on her hip and looked Vasquez appraisingly up and down.
Foxx managed to hide her smile as she replied to Ryan. ‘And the upbringing. How did you meet Vasquez?’
‘Bad luck and trouble, ma’am,’ Ryan beamed, ‘same Marine platoon for four years, until I got my ass blown off in an Ayleean attack.’
Vasquez’s smile faded slowly. ‘That was a bad day, man.’
Ryan nodded. ‘I know but hey, I got me a lucky ticket and I’m still here! Marines were short on manpower back in the Ayleean War and they needed hands back in support roles, so I got a free ride to eternity as a Holosap. I ain’t complainin’.’
‘You don’t miss the beer?’ Vasquez asked, ‘and the women?’
Ryan sniggered and jabbed Vasquez in the ribs, his translucent elbow vanishing briefly into Vasquez’s body. ‘Man, as a Holosap you can have everythin’ you want, it’s all just the same except it doesn’t cost you anything!’
Foxx figured that Ryan wasn’t worried about having kids or a wife, or perhaps just hadn’t thought about that yet, as she followed the two men. Maybe when a Holosap was uploaded they stayed the same age, with the same mentality and outlook on life, like some digital Peter Pan, unable to grow up.
‘Why’d you call him Vasquez the Vacant?’ she asked Ryan.
Vasquez’s humor withered as Ryan chuckled out loud. ‘We were doing a combat drop onto an Ayleean ship, and Vasquez here needed to visit the bathroom. So, he goes in there before we land, and then we’re hit and some of the drop ship’s electrical systems go down. Vasquez gets locked in, but the door says “Vacant”. We didn’t have time to get him out before we landed, so he ended up sitting on the can for three hours.’
Foxx smiled sweetly at Vasquez. ‘Strange you never shared that particular anecdote with Allen or me?’
‘Must’ve slipped my mind,’ Vasquez replied tightly before he looked at Ryan. ‘Thought it might’ve slipped yours.’
‘Not any more,’ Ryan said as he tapped his amorphous digital head. ‘Nothin’ ‘scapes me now!’
Ryan led them to the armory proper, which was protected by another large steel door that at this time was open.
‘We have evidence of at least one MM–15 plasma pistol making it out of here, Ryan,’ Vasquez said. ‘You got any idea how that could happen?’
‘No way man,’ Ryan replied. ‘This place is locked up tighter than any other facility here on Polaris, exceptin’ the research and development section, and believe me nobody goes in or out of there without full clearance and all scans both ways.’
Foxx followed the two men into the armory as Ryan headed for a gantry that overlooked ranks of sealed cabinets, all of which were patrolled by robotic guards. Foxx could see signs near each of the cabinets, denoting rows and rows of plasma weapons, charges, explosives, detonators and on toward larger containers for more powerful munitions.
‘This is it,’ Ryan said. ‘Like I said, nothing comes in or out without us knowing about it. Whatever you found down there, there isn’t a person alive who could have smuggled it out of this armory.’
Foxx stared with Vasquez out over the vast armory. ‘What if the weapon wasn’t stolen at all?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just what I’m saying,’ Foxx said. ‘Is there any chance at all that the weapon we found was somehow legally or operationally out of here?’
‘Nope,’ Ryan replied. ‘MM–15s are out of service, have been for a while. Most of them are here as reserve weapons in case of a crisis but they’re deactivated and we don’t release them to anybody.’
Foxx thought for a moment longer. ‘Who else would have access to this armory, outside of military service?’
‘Nobody,’ Ryan replied, ‘except the prison service. We keep the guards armed with up to date weapons.’
Foxx and Vasquez shared a look with Betty.
‘How often do they come over here?’ Betty asked.
‘Once a month,’ Ryan replied, ‘the logs contain all the details. Mostly they just rotate weapons in and out for servicing. They don’t get through a lot of rounds on the prison, except for training purposes.’
Foxx felt a new lead burgeoning in her train of thought. ‘So, could a prison weapon make it in here in substitute for military grade firearms?’
Ryan frowned thoughtfully. ‘I suppose it’s possible, but there wouldn’t be much point, would there? You already got one weapon, why trade it out for another and take all that risk?’
Vasquez looked at Foxx curiously. ‘Where you goin’ with this?’
Foxx ordered her thoughts for a moment before she replied.
‘We’ve got an MM–15 on the streets, but no missing weapons up here. That means somebody might have somehow, however unlikely it may be, swapped the gun’s internal ID chips out.’
‘Yeah, but like Ryan said, what’s the point if you’ve already got a weapon?’
‘None,’ Foxx said, ‘if you intend to use it to shoot somebody. But if you’re intending to sell a weapon…’
Vasquez got it immediately and his eyes lit up. ‘Ex–military hardware would fetch a higher price.’
‘And would be in high demand in places like North Four,’ Betty said. ‘Half the hoodlums on the blocks there would give their right arm for a weapon like that.’
‘So whoever was shifting weapons would have needed regular access to this armory and access planet–side too,’ Foxx said as she turned to Ryan. ‘Can you access the logs for the armory and tell us the names of anybody who matches those criteria?’
Ryan nodded and blinked as he directly accessed the logs, his digital brain allowing him to filter vast quantities of information instantly. He blinked again.
‘Three individuals match the criteria: Lance Corporal Aden Ford, General Mitch Salem, and…’
Ryan hesitated.
‘What?’ Vasquez asked.
‘Corporal Anthony Ricard, Prison Service, deceased,’ Ryan finished his sentence.
Foxx stared at Ryan for a long moment. ‘You’re sure?’
Ryan nodded. ‘He helped ferry the service module over here for months and would have had access to the weapons when in transi
t. If he knew what he was doing, he could plausibly have switched weapon IDs for malfunctioning military weapons bound for destruction during the journey. With the weapons checked and booked out for destruction they wouldn’t be checked the other end, just counted via their chips and destroyed.’
Vasquez nodded as he caught up with Foxx’s train of thought.
‘Ricard switches out regular firearms sells the military grade weapons on the street for profit,’ he said, ‘but why the hell would he be doing that?’
Foxx felt a sense of impending doom wash over her as she thought hard.
‘The whole case against Xavier Reed was built upon the assumption that, as Ricard was the one who got shot, he must therefore have been the victim. But what if he wasn’t a victim at all?’
‘You think that Ricard was behind all of this?’
Foxx shook her head as she asked Ryan: ‘Where did most of the weapons that Ricard transported go to?’
Ryan blinked briefly as he accessed the data logs.
‘Most went to be destroyed,’ he replied, ‘the rest were sent into Tethys Gaol as service arms for the guards.’
Vasquez’s expression turned to one of dread at the same moment as Foxx’s blood ran cold.
‘He was supplying weapons back into the prison system,’ Vasquez said, ‘switching them out. But why?’
Fox felt certain she knew why as she grabbed her communicator and tried to call Detective Allen. The connection was immediately filled with static that hissed loudly in her ear as she cursed the device and shut it off. She turned to Ryan.
‘The communicators are down!’
‘The entire station’s communications are down,’ Ryan replied with some surprise. ‘Were being jammed by something that’s blocking all signals.’
Foxx thought for a moment.
‘We need to get aboard Titan and send a priority signal to Tethys Gaol from there, warn them that there may be weapons loose in the system and to lock the whole place down until we get there!’
***
XVIII
CSS Titan
Titan (Old Ironsides Book 2) Page 13
