It took a further thirty minutes for Sasha to navigate to the origin of the signal. She brought the sub to a slow velocity, cruised carefully around the rocky reef. A real crappy place to land, she thought. Rocks and crags fractured the barnacle-covered reef. The lights of the sub reflected off innumerable eyes from within those fissures. Predators waiting for prey, waiting for a morsel to swim too close.
Sasha scanned the area on the radar, navigated the sub in ever-decreasing circles, avoiding the areas most jagged. She came around a large rock formation, home to a group of hiding spider crabs, their long, dangly legs clinging to the rock and the reef surface to avoid being swept away by the movement of the sub.
Within the gleam of the spotlights, small bubbles swirled up from the dark depths. Closer up, she made out the dark shape of a seat, and there, hanging out from the side, a piece of clothing swayed in the currents.
With excitement building, she pulled the sub side-on to the person, and gesturing across the controls, sent out a robotic arm to grip onto the chassis of the seat. She tested the weight by thrusting the sub away by a metre slowly, and with a spurt of dust and the darting panic of various fish, the seat, with the person, who Sasha could now tell was a young-looking girl with pink hair, came away from its lodged position.
The smart-thrusters adjusted their power balance to accommodate the new weight. Sasha entered in a stabilisation program to keep the sub in place and moved to the back of the sub where the air-supply line was located. She clipped the hose to the mask on her face, attached a knife to her belt, and made her way to the small pressure box at the rear of the craft which housed an inner compartment allowing exiting and entering of the sub while submerged.
While cutting the girl free from the seat, and hooking her onto the line that led back to the sub, Sasha couldn’t help but notice something quite disturbing. Despite the girl’s shocking pink mohican and tattooed lips, she was identical to Sasha. This was no Red Widow member!
Inside the girl’s robes were a broken slate and a Criborg chip. Sasha checked the girl’s wrist, and as suspected she found a scar where she, or someone else, had cut it from her. Unable to fully understand the situation, and seeing the various predators taking an interest, Sasha quickly pulled the girl to the rear of the sub and brought her into the pressure chamber.
She instructed the robot arm to unclip the seat and retract. With her precious cargo safe and secure inside the sub, Sasha activated the return-to-base program and wondered what the hell the others would say when she brought her apparent twin home.
***
Once settled in the main cabin of the sub, Sasha ran a health diagnostic. The girl’s heart beat just twice per minute during her unconsciousness. Sasha turned her over, helped clear her lungs. With an injection of adrenaline-infused NanoStem, the girl woke, her eyes flashing wide with panic. She coughed and spluttered the last of the salt water onto the rubberised floor of the sub.
When they locked eyes a flash of recognition shot between them. The girl lifted a shaking, wet hand and touched Sasha on the cheek, following the outline of her face. A raspy voice came from her. “Who are you?” Her eyebrows knitted close together as she cocked her head slightly trying to understand who or what she looked at.
“I’m Sasha,” she said. “Are you okay?”
Her life signs scrolled down the holographic screen next to the cot Sasha had laid her upon. They showed strong and healthy tolerances, the NanoStems working quickly. Her reactions to it were off the chart for a normal person. Sasha then had more of an idea of who she was.
“Yeah, I think so,” the girl said. “Are you from Criborg?”
“That’s us. It seems you had some of our tech in you. Who did that to you? What’s your name?”
The girl shook her head and pushed herself up on to her elbows. “Name’s Petal, and I don’t know. I was sent to you lot for answers. Are we twins?”
“Hah, who knows? We could be. I’ll have to get you back to see Jimmy the Doc. He’ll soon figure this out. What’s on the slate you were carrying?”
Petal looked around frantically, “Damn, I must have dropped it. Where is it?” She sat up, throwing her legs off the side of the cot. She appeared to be recovering exceptionally quickly, and Sasha knew that was an ability they shared. Could they really be the same model? It seemed pretty obvious given the evidence, but despite her growing excitement she remained cautious.
“I got it right here,” Sasha said, holding the slate close to her chest. “Anything dangerous on here? Maybe something from the Red Widows? You working for them, huh?”
“What? No, of course not. Those bitches imprisoned me and cut out my implant! It’s because of that my friends traced you lot and sent me to you for help.”
“What kind of help?”
“I’m dying, apparently, or at least radically changing. And I’m guessing there’s info to that regard on the slate. I didn’t get chance to read the full report before the Widows shot at me from one of their Jaguars.”
“The one you were flying in and sent the message from?”
“Yeah, the very same.”
Sasha moved to the navigation cockpit at the front of the sub and placed the slate in a secure compartment. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll let the Doc take a look at the slate first. We can’t be too careful. Red Widows have been getting way more daring of late and coming closer to our compound.”
“The Island?”
“Kinda. Look, you rest up and I’ll take you back to the Doc and we’ll go from there.”
“What do you know of Red Widow?” Petal asked, joining Sasha in the cockpit and taking the seat next her. “Nice bit of kit, by the way. You got more stuff like this?”
“Hey, I thought I said rest up.”
“Yeah, I don’t really do orders” Petal said, smoothing her wet hair back. “About this sub, you got more of these? What about other stuff, vehicles, weapons?”
“You’ll see. And of the Red Widows, we know plenty. We’ll get to that back at the compound during your de-brief. I think the General will want to have a chat with you.” Sasha flashed her a smile, and when Petal smiled back Sasha shook her head. “Damn, girl, it’s like looking in a mirror. If I had crazy person’s hair!” Sasha’s regular brunette hair pulled back into a functional ponytail now felt entirely uncool and conservative to Petal’s striking pink hair, even if it was wet and lank. “Where are you even from?” Sasha asked.
“I’m hoping that’s what you could tell me. My memories only go back about five years or so.”
Sasha remained silent. It couldn’t be a coincidence. She herself had only been activated for five years. But if they were the same, and that seemed obvious to her now, how had Petal ended up outside of the compound?
Sasha remained quiet for most of the journey, unable to get over looking at Petal and seeing the resemblance there. Jimmy had never made identical models, at least to her knowledge. Was she like her sister? Maybe a precursor or a prototype? And despite herself she felt a twinge of potential sibling rivalry: Is she more capable than me? Stronger? That she had been out of the compound gave reason enough for a growing jealousy that gnawed away at her, but if she were a superior model that just wouldn’t do. Sasha was the special one in the compound. Sasha was the Doc’s greatest achievement, wasn’t she?
***
The dappled moonlight filtered through the water as they ascended. They were twenty meters from the surface now. Sasha coded a secure message, sent it back to Jimmy Robertson, telling him briefly of what she had found. No doubt, one of the oceanographers had noticed the sub had gone, and it wouldn’t take them long to realise it was Sasha who’d taken it, but all that would be forgotten if she had found one of Jimmy’s old models. She hit send. The holographic screen beeped back an error code. Signal blocked or scrambled.
“Gah!” Sasha slapped the arm of her chair in frustration.
Petal jumped in her chair, turned to face her. “What’s happened?”
�
�Just a minor communications issue. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Petal leaned over to try and read the screen. Sasha placed her hand against Petal’s shoulder pushing her back. “Confidential,” she said. Petal just shook her head and smirked at her. “Sure. Communications error. You mean your signal’s been intercepted, right?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t take me for a fool. We might look alike, but I’m guessing you ain’t seen much action outside of your compound.”
“I’ve been outside!” Sasha said, regretting how defensive she sounded, how immature. And that was it right there. Though they appeared similar, Sasha knew she was the kid here, the inexperienced one.
The various bruises and scars on Petal’s face and shoulders told her she had seen real action, real combat, out there in the abandoned lands. She had killed. The most Sasha had killed were some 3D holo-projections in the simulation lab.
“Just tell me what the problem is, I might be able to help.”
“I’ve got this. Okay?”
“Sure, you got it.” Petal sat back, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes, all the time with a smirk on her face.
Smug bitch! The error code was specific. Sasha knew what it meant: she’d got her times wrong, and The Family’s spy satellites orbited overhead scanning for signals and movement. And to confirm her fears the holographic display flashed again, this time changing to a radar display. Flying two kilometres from them a group of four UAV drones. They’d be on them within minutes.
She switched on Jimmy Robertson’s stealth cloaking technology and silently prayed it worked.
Chapter 16
The interrogators had introduced themselves as Alizia and Margaret, and very ‘pleasant’ they were too. They’d even given Gerry a drink of water. Of course he knew this was the good cop part of the procedure. He’d give them three questions and no answers before they took those bloodstained sickles and started the cutting.
“Mr Gerry,” Alizia, she of the foul breath and stubby black teeth, said all cheery and calm, standing casually with her back against the wall, arms folded in front of her chest. “Where is Omega?”
As he thought on that question, he wondered about Bilanko in the next room. Since Gabe had left, he’d heard nothing else from her cell. It was a worrying silence given the screams and commotion just prior. He lifted his chin, regarded Alizia. “What happened to the one in the next cell?”
“Dead, unable to help with enquiries. You unable too, Mr Gerry?”
Gerry shook his head. “Can you please be more specific about your first question,” Gerry replied. “I don’t know what exactly Omega is. If you could expand a little more, I could probably help you. I don’t want to be difficult.” He kept talking, hoped to buy time while he probed the compound’s network, trying to make a connection to something. Anything. The fuzziness still permeated his brain, and although connected, the network appeared blurred and indistinct to him.
“I have a family.” Gerry continued to talk to Alizia. “I’d rather get out of here in one piece, so please help me help you.”
While he continued to talk, and apparently entertain the two interrogators, he managed to locate Old Grey through the compound’s network. The idiots hadn’t even firewalled her. Gerry supposed that if this group were out in the cold as it were in their underground bunkers they probably weren’t familiar with how to secure a network, relying on their personal EMP-like devices to secure individuals instead.
He sent his mind out to Old Grey, programmed his AIA to connect to the ancient server. She let him in straight away. The old-style 2D operation system flashed into his mind, waiting for his command. He used the server to map the compound’s network, creating a picture of the data: which nodes were responsible for which function. He’d use his own mind to do the task, but having the server and his AIA interacting allowed him to fully focus on staying alive during the interrogation.
“We know what you are, who you are. You tell us now of Omega’s location.”
“I don’t know what you mean. What is this Omega? By the way, I know we’ve got off on the wrong foot, and I’m sorry for killing a few of your comrades, but you know, it was a war zone.”
“Enough!” Margaret grabbed Gerry by the throat, squeezed his windpipe. “This simple. Give me Omega location or I kill you now.”
Mags delivered the network report.
— Five operational nodes discovered: two control the security doors and lights, one operates the cameras, and the other two distribute power. The latter are not fully operational since the last time we were here and overloaded them.
— Good job, Mags, Gerry returned. Start the cracking procedure on the door and light systems. I really need to get out of here.
Gerry’s AIA took a program that he had devised while on the station in The Family’s care: a highly efficient, chip-level piece of software that simultaneously tied up the target’s CPU while hijacking its memory and boot process, which allowed the insertion of a cracking tool that would alter the security credentials and thus allowing him, and his AIA, access.
The tip of the curved dagger pierced the thin skin on Gerry’s throat; a warm trickle of blood dripped down to his chest. Margaret held it there, adding weight to the hilt, threatening to push it further in. “You think I won’t do it?” she said.
“Okay, okay! Let’s take all this down a notch. I’m sure we can sort something out. Now, please, explain to me what Omega is, and I’ll tell you if I can help you find it.”
Alizia leaned away from the wall, her smirk dropping, becoming serious. She took her sickle and tapped it against Gerry’s dermal implant, ‘clunk, clunk.’ “We start here.” Then she tapped the edge of the blade against Gerry’s temple, “End here.”
“So,” Alizia said. “We ask last time. Where is Omega?”
“I take it you don’t know what happened to the last person who cut me open.” Gerry raised his wrists, still within the EM cuffs, and tapped his bionic eye. “I lived, he didn’t.”
“Wrong answer, Mr Gerry,” Alizia said.
She stepped to face Gerry head-on, took the knife, pressed its sharp tip to his wrist implant and—
— We’re in, Gerry, Mags said.
Before Alizia could gouge the weapon deeper, Gerry accessed the compound’s breached systems, turning off the lights, plunging the cell into darkness. He switched on his night-vision and drove his forehead into Alizia’s nose.
Margaret stood to his right, her arms out in the darkness, trying to find something to hold on to. He kicked out at her legs, sending her crashing to the floor with a sharp scream. She dropped her sickle with the fall. Alizia fell back against the door. She, too, dropped her sickle in order to stem the blood from her crushed nose. Blood mingled in her throat making her yells of frustration take on a wet, thick quality.
Gerry spun, kicked out at Margaret on the floor, catching her in the throat with his boot. He bent and picked up the sickle, moved to the door, and using its stun capability, brought it down onto Alizia’s shoulders. The Red Widow stiffened as if struck by lightning, all her muscles tensing as one and sending her face-first to the hard floor.
Gerry grinned with satisfaction, thinking of both times when he had been stunned. Taking a thin, squared rod about ten centimetres long from a keychain under Alizia’s robes, he unlocked the EM cuffs. He dragged Alizia’s unconscious body over to Margaret, who clutched her throat and writhed in pain. Using the sickle, he stunned her into unconsciousness too, and used the cuffs to bind the two women together.
Now that he had access to the compound’s security system, he took a minute to browse through the node’s cell-locking procedures. Each cell had its own electronic lock setting: a global set of routines that allowed a user of the system to control the entire setup. Gerry unlocked his cell, the one next door, and the one opposite into which he’d seen Enna taken.
He kept the main door to the cell locked, not wanting a flood of Red Widow guards to rush in. He
only switched off the lights to the cells, so he hoped the others wouldn’t have realised what had happened. At the very least, he’d bought some time.
He stepped out into the dark corridor, his night-vision making it seem more oppressive than it was. He locked the door behind him, and moved to Bilanko’s cell. Inside, the half-woman, half-computer controlled transcendent, sat on the bench, her head resting on her chest. A pool of dark liquid surrounded her. She didn’t move, or breathe. No data came from her at all.
The queen of GeoCity-1 had died.
“I’m sorry,” Gerry said, before turning his back and quietly closing the cell door behind him. He’d only ever had one interaction with her before now, and that wasn’t entirely pleasant, but he felt a deep depression come over him. She was truly something, and to be so casually snuffed out by those butchers, it made him think that perhaps The Family had the right idea after all, if only for a minute.
The thought of The Family reminded him of Enna. He snapped out of his current train of thought and dashed across the corridor to her cell.
Gerry opened Enna’s door to find her with Gabe, and Old Grey on a trolley, all sitting casually in the dark.
“Close the door, Gerry,” Enna said as she sat calmly on her bench. “And maybe switch on the lights?”
“Sure,” he accessed the node and did as Enna asked. The cell was much like his own: grey, barren, and clinical. Enna and Gabe stared at him, waited. Gerry closed the door behind him.
“What now?” he asked. He wanted to tell them about Bilanko, but given their faces, tired and stern, he guessed they already knew.
“My cover’s blown,” Gabe said. “They saw me bring Old Grey out of the server room. We’ve got to get outta the compound, the place’s crawlin’ with ‘em.”
Sitting on the bench beside them, Gerry took a deep breath, waited for his heart rate to come down. “How the hell did you get mixed up with this lot?” Gerry said to Gabe.
Code Breakers: Beta Page 11
