The device was designed such that a high-powered laser fired from the generator would create a plasma cloud of highly concentrated electromagnetic radiation around The Family’s spy and communications satellite. The EM field would overload the various logic boards within the satellite, frying its chips, rendering it useless.
If it worked correctly, it would knock out The Family’s capability to observe and monitor the lands and seas around the Dome, and as Petal suspected, would remove the suppression from the Meshwork. She knew that it wasn’t an issue of the backbone server being offline. The entire point of that machine was that it never went offline. Therefore, access to the Meshwork had been supressed.
While the others prepared the final pieces of software, Petal examined the stream of data to and from the satellite, using Criborg’s snooper system.
An encryption layer secured the data coming from the satellite. It was clever, but she eventually managed to get past it using an algorithm taught to her by Gabe. She realised that all access to the Meshwork was being bypassed and routed to a dumb virtual server running within the satellite itself, creating a kind of feedback loop acting not unlike the way she could hold code and AIs within herself. And despite the encryption on the stream being relative easy to get past, access to any of the satellite’s systems were impenetrable, even for her considerable skills. It wasn’t just good programming it was something else entirely. The systems weren’t visible. It was as if they were hidden somewhere else entirely, a system within a system.
One of the benefits of taking out the satellite and getting the Meshwork back up was that she should be able to re-establish a connection with Gerry and the others.
She felt light-headed at the thought of speaking with him again. In a few hours, she might be able to communicate with him for the first time since it all went down at Cemprom. Her stomach knotted thinking about it. She didn’t really know what to say. She knew her feelings had changed towards him, but was that the same with him too? How much had he changed since being taken away by The Family? For a few seconds she dwelled on a terrible realisation that he might not want anything to do with her, that he might be one of them now. One of The Family.
Vickers paced across the metal grating circling the round graphene-coated laser projection generators. His steps rang out like ticks of a clock.
Petal looked up at him, gave him a glare. He checked himself, stopped pacing. He gripped the metal rail, tuning his knuckles white.
“Dude, chill out,” Petal said, trying to ease the man’s tension. It was putting everyone else on edge.
“If this doesn’t work, we’re not going to be in good shape,” he said through a tight mouth, his teeth clenched.
“I thought you were the one eager to get up to the surface?” Petal raised an eyebrow.
“How dare you!”
“Put a cap on it, General, we’ll get there.” Petal would have normally given a cheeky grin to show that she was messing around, but considering his face was puce and puffed like an inflated plum with his own self-importance, she stared him down.
Robertson interjected before Vickers could launch a tirade. “Can we all please keep our minds on the job at hand?”
“We’ve got about twenty minutes until the satellite’s over us, Doc. You’ll excuse for me being a little tense. It’s not like we can trust this—”
Now Robertson fumed, his nostrils flaring as he stormed over and squared up to the General. “You will not disparage her, goddamn it. If I say she’s to be trusted you take my damned word on it, you understand?”
Petal couldn’t but help smirk and feel good inside. She could get used to someone having her back like that.
Vickers pointed at Robertson, his face ready to explode, but the older scientist to his credit refused to be intimidated, stood his ground. Vickers eventually dropped his accusing finger, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m nervous about this.” He turned to Petal. “No offence intended, it’s just we don’t get many visitors here. It’s been a while since we’ve had to trust an outsider.”
“It’s okay, General. I understand,” she said, trying to keep the peace. She turned away and walked over to Sasha who stood in open-mouthed shock.
“How’s it all coming along?” Petal said to her, keeping her voice low.
“Oh, erm, I’m nearly finished. The simulation’s fine. No issues so far. The power couplings are good to go. Everything seems ready at this end.” Sasha closed down her holoscreen and walked around the metal gantry, leaning against the rails.
Robertson came over, inspected the data on Petal’s holoscreen.
“I’m impressed,” he said to the both of them. “You fixed the power load-balance algorithm.”
Petal curtsied dramatically. “You’re welcome.”
“The sim ran fine,” Sasha said. “We’re ready, I think.”
Robertson stepped back, regarded the cylinders in the middle of the room. He then looked up through the tunnel that bored up to the surface, his gaze tracing the thick glass tube with the central laser diode running up through the middle of the cylinder.
At the top of the tunnel, a good twenty metres high was a focusing lens that made the charged photons into a narrow and directional beam.
“Let’s switch on the power, and see how she runs,” Robertson said. He quickly gestured across his holoscreen, and the fusion reactors below the compound came online.
Petal felt a rumble through the metal gantry as the reactor filled the capacitors with power.
Everyone gripped the rail, as if they would be thrown to the floor, but it was more the tension and anticipation of this weapon finally coming online.
The ten surrounding smaller lasers, housed in ceramic-like cylinders and circling the main laser glowed red. As Robertson routed the power from the capacitors under the gantry, their bright red lights, dimmed by a smoked-glass protection screen, shone into the central laser.
Like a great light bulb filament, the centre of the main laser glowed a dull orange colour.
Although protected behind inches of Plexiglas, Petal’s stomach grew tight and knotty with nerves. So much power a few feet away.
“Everything seems fine,” Robertson said after a few minutes of checking the levels on his screen. The system seemed to be stable and ticking over nicely. “The power balance is self-regulating efficiently. We’re up to two-hundred-fifty-petawatts. We’ll be ready in three minutes.”
Robertson looked at the General, who in turn stared at his own screen. The military leader nodded, seemed satisfied.
In the middle of the gantry, where everyone gathered, a graphical representation of the satellite’s position moved across the space in a holographic three-dimensional display.
“This is so cool,” Petal said in a whisper.
“I know, right?” Sasha replied. Both girls stood next to each other, stared into that great destructive tube, waiting for the laser to fire.
“The satellite will be in firing range in T-3 minutes. Is she ready to go?” Vickers asked.
Everyone looked at Robertson then, all waiting for his go-ahead. He licked his lips, rubbed a slightly trembling hand across his forehead. “I guess this is it then.”
He started the countdown. It ticked down on all the screens. The rumbling from the energy source grew stronger and the smaller lasers glowed brighter. The super-laser tube hummed, and everyone stepped back.
“We’re at full power,” Robertson said.
“I think we should all move out,” Vickers said. “Not that I don’t trust you, Doc, of course. But just in case.”
Robertson agreed. He ushered everyone from the laser chamber. The heavy doors slammed shut behind Vickers. They filled up the corridor outside, gathered around the observation screens. Robertson took his slate, and watched the numbers tick down. Petal could feel her heart beat against her chest.
“Here we go,” Robertson said. “Ten, nine, eight, seven.”
Petal found herself mouthing the final sec
onds, as her hands tensed into tight fists, her heart beating in rhythm with the countdown.
“Five, four, three, two, one.”
Chapter 25
Petal stalked the corridor, waited for the results of the LEMP attack. Robertson had gone into the lab with Vickers to check the system. They insisted everyone else stay outside, just in case. She swung her leg back and forth, tapping against the corridor’s wall. There was a buzz about the Criborg compound. Every person, like her, waited with baited breath.
Sasha came up to Petal. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Good,” Petal said. “I’m feeling much better. I wanted to thank you for bringing me back here. You probably saved my life.”
“The least I could do. Do you think it worked?” Sasha said.
Petal shrugged. “The code seemed good. The simulation went through okay, but who knows how these things work in the real world?”
“They’re coming back,” Sasha said.
Together, they moved out of the way of the door. Vickers and Robertson came out into the corridor, and addressed the crowd awaiting them. Robertson spoke first.
“I can confirm that at 05:15 this morning, the LEMP successfully fired and…”
“And what?” Petal said, unable to bare the tension, wanting desperately for it to have worked so that she could get on the Meshwork, and try to find Gerry. “Did it work or not?”
Robertson brushed dust from his cuffs, said. “I can confirm that the attack was successful. Our systems indicate zero signals from the satellite. It is offline.”
A great cheer and a roar went up. Scientists and soldiers alike high-fived and hugged each other. Everyone was smiling. It clearly meant more than taking out a Family satellite. It was the thought of freedom, the realisation that they were free to leave their underground facility. Most of them had been born there, and those not in the armed division or the aquatic research division had never even been outside. Never breathed the air, or felt the sun on their skin.
But Petal didn’t cheer as loudly. She politely smiled and shook hands with those who thanked her for the help with the coding, but she knew that many of these people wouldn’t live beyond the next few days. They had no idea of the brutality and unforgiving nature of the world. Life had little meaning on the outside. Those who’d feel nothing about it could snuff it out in seconds.
They’d all face a lot more hardship before they could cheer and feel secure again. But despite that, she admired them for their courage and spirit. Even if they couldn’t fully understand what they were letting themselves in for.
Vickers hushed the crowd, gave orders. “This is the first part of the plan. It’s good to feel jubilant right now, but we’re leaving a place we’ve called home for a number of decades now. The next part is to travel to the mainland, to the city of Darkhan where we’re going to face a strong enemy. It’ll take courage and discipline to fight for our freedom, and protect others from tyranny. Our time has come, and it’s time for us to leave, to fight, and to claim our future. You all know what to do. The transporters are waiting in Hangar Eighteen. Gather your things, and be there by oh-five-forty hours.”
He curtly saluted, turned on his heel, and headed down the corridor. The rest of his division returned the salute and followed.
Robertson approached Petal and Sasha, along with his group of six scientist-engineers. “Are you two ready?” He asked. Petal and Sasha nodded. “Then follow me, and we’ll get you two settled on the planes. It’ll be about a five hour journey, so I’d suggest you get some sleep, rest up.”
“Sounds good to me,” Petal said as she turned and followed Sasha by her side.
***
As Petal followed Robertson down the corridors, she hung back to chat with Sasha.
“How many are there here? People I mean. The ones leaving?”
“All in all about two hundred and fifty, including scientists and the military personnel, but then there’s the androids. There are five thousand of those.”
“Christ, how big are your transporter planes? You can’t take all of them, surely?”
Sasha laughed. “Of course not. We’ve got three transporters. Each one takes about three hundred personnel plus weapons, provisions, equipment, etc. We’ll only take eight pods of ‘droids. About four hundred in all, but still a potent force that can be drop-shipped within minutes.”
“Sounds very useful,” Petal said. “I’m sure that’d be enough to take Darkhan back. What kind of ‘droids are they?”
“Combat models mostly,” Sasha said. “Although we were adapting many for tasks such as farming, engineering etc. The plan was to have them ready to work on infrastructure and farming when they went to the surface.”
“And is that still the plan?”
Sasha shrugged. “It was until you arrived. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I mean, you gave us the intel to know what was going on. Perhaps if the war, if it comes to that, isn’t too bad, then we could start to clean up the land, maybe make a new home for ourselves.”
Petal didn’t want to say that was wishful thinking. So many groups of survivors had had the same idea over the years, but none had made much of a life on the land. Even the Upsiders, one of the more successful groups, still bore the mark of the Cataclysm within their mutations. And the Bachians were more interested in drinking and fighting than making a viable alternative to the Dome.
Sasha led her through yet more corridors until they came to the hangar.
She never thought she’d see something so large and yet still be underground. The three great transporters sat wing-to wing next to each other. Lines of people passed supplies into the transporters.
The planes looked like old-fashioned commercial aircraft, except they didn’t have the huge wingspan or the old, round jet engines. Much like the Jaguars and the ATVs, these, too, sported great VTOL motors within the stub wings that allowed them to take off at all angles, and pivoted at the fuselage, making them act like high-powered rotors when in flight. The surface of the planes was a dull grey colour, but Sasha had informed her that these had an earlier version of Robertson’s stealth technology. This older system was an upgraded version of the famous pre-war American company Lockheed’s first stealth fighter, the F-117. None of it really mattered to Petal. All she cared about was whether or not it’d get them there safely.
Robertson and Vickers dashed around that great expanse of a hangar, ushering people into lines, making order out of chaos. It felt like some great wild migration. While she and Sasha were standing in a line, waiting to board one of the transporters, she felt her systems finally come online.
At first it was a small buzz in her head. A persistent flow of electricity that flowed throughout her neural network, and then down through her spine and out into every nerve within her body. It wasn’t unpleasant, and she found herself smiling as it felt like every cell in her body tingled.
“Are you okay?” Sasha said.
“Yeah, my new chip’s finally online. It feels crazy.”
Through her new upgraded chip she reached out with her mind to sense the flow of data within Criborg’s system. But there was another network, its signals faint, and the flow of data sluggish. She recognised it straight away. She was connected to the Meshwork, its data flow no longer suppressed by the satellite. Via her internal GUI she tracked the data as a slow trickle at first. Obviously the users of the network over the weeks had dropped off, realising it wasn’t working. The only data that existed now were networking protocols and a bunch of automated maintenance scripts running on the server. Omega!
At least now Petal knew it was still running.
Sasha chatted on about some inconsequential detail when they finally started to move closer to their designated transporter. At the head of the line stood the twin poles of Criborg: Vickers and Robertson. Working in tandem they checked against their slates, probably a manifest, and directed each individual to the appropriate transporter.
The two transporters on the left received
the android pods: square Polymar™ boxes with clear sides, loaded by anti-grav heavy loaders. Within the pods, Petal could make out hundreds of suspended human-like androids, decked out in the grey and orange livery: the colours of Criborg. They looked like real people, or more accurately lots of the same person, and she wondered if Jimmy Robertson had modelled these on another member of his family. Were these mechanical clones of his son, brother, father?
“Are they good?” Petal asked. “Combat wise.”
“Hell yeah. We could have used them way before now, but as usual, ol’ Jimmy was too conservative. There was a small bug in their software, and a few people got killed once. It was fixed, but he was still too nervous. But I guess in time likes these, even Jimmy has to bite the bullet and have a little faith.”
“Wait, they were defective?”
“Kinda, sorta, not really. They’re okay now. Like I said, a small software bug, it’s been sorted. Vickers, he—”
As if invoking his name had somehow summoned him, he strode across to Petal and Sasha.
“You two are riding with me and the Doc. Move out.”
Sasha gave him a sharp salute before dashing ahead of the line to the transporter. Each plane sported a bird logo on the rear stabiliser fin: Falcon, Condor, and Vulture. She, Sasha, and Robertson were in Condor.
“You too,” Vickers said pointing his finger at Petal. “Time to move out.”
It occurred to her how much he seemed to enjoy pointing at people. Must be some kind of military leader-type bullshit, she thought. Petal gave him the stink eye. “I ain’t one of your soldiers, General, so you can stop your damned pointing and address me with a little respect.”
He sneered at her, “I don’t like your attitude, girl.”
Before he could turn his back and return to the lines of people, Petal responded. “Have you always been a chauvinistic prick, General? Or do you save it for special occasions?” She said it so loud it seemed the entire population of Criborg turned to watch the argument.
Code Breakers: Beta Page 19
