by Elin Wyn
This time I squeezed Loree's hand at every point of the transmission interference.
Mind. Control. Enclosed. Airborne virus.
Void.
“I don't think I want dinner now.”
No kidding. “Babe, I think we need to move fast.”
She nodded, chewing on her lower lip. “Agreed. But to go where I think we need to be, we may need to wait a bit anyway.”
I didn't like it. If Stanton had an airborne mind control virus, he needed to be stopped. Now.
And it fit. The Cadre members at the Compound. The experiments on Erich and the others. Even Melra, who Tobais swore had suddenly changed.
The entire SysSec, under Stanton's control.
Soon, every scientist in the leading power research facility in the Empire.
How long would it take before Prince Vandalar was exposed as well?
Stanton didn't need General Melchior's troops to take over the Empire. The prince would hand it to him without a single shot fired.
How long, I whispered, half to Loree, half at the vision of the spiraling new order.
Less people awake, she answered. And I need to review the specs.
That was fair, even if every instinct I had screamed to hurry.
“I need to go study,” she said loudly, in the same chirpy voice she'd used with the port agent. “New job, lots to learn. Come keep me company.”
The seconds ticked by as we waited. Loree chattered as she showed me the map, overlay the schematics, pointing out everything she'd learned while working in the mechanicals shop.
“The water recycling is 99.9 percent efficient. Apparently the loss is due to our altitude. The fire suppression tower can spray a fine mist of foam across the entire dome in less than 60 seconds. And here's where the environmental controls are.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me adorably. I reached over, expanded the map. Lots of places to hide something in there. “It's a restricted area, but if I work here long enough, I'm sure I'll be upgraded and have access. It needs visual inspection, not just maintenance by bots.”
Right then. We had it narrowed to the most likely place.
Loree's fingers tapped on the screen. “The bots sure are useful. They can see everything, go almost everywhere.”
Yeah, they would be useful. But unless she could take them over in the next - I checked the chrono again - thirty minutes, we'd have to do this on our own.
“Want to take a stroll before bed?” I asked. “I could stand to stretch my legs”
'Sure.” She grabbed the tablet, slung the bag from Outlander Terminal over her shoulder, and headed out. “I can keep studying while we walk.”
I glanced over as we wound through the now quiet halls. Yup. Trying to hack the maintenance bots. That's my clever lady.
Before long we hit a passage where the cuffs didn't want us to enter.
“No going back.” Once we went through, our cover would be blown. Maybe we could try to wave it off as harmless exploring if we were caught. Maybe, but not likely.
Loree shoved the tablet into her bag and stuck out her wrist. “Then get this thing off me now. One of the guys in maintenance says they're rigged to give a shock if you get into a high level restricted area. I'd rather not be surprised.”
“I was afraid of that. The Pack has run into these before. Problem is, it's just as likely to give a shock if we remove it without the correct operating codes.”
“Do it now,” she insisted. “You can't always protect me. And it's better to take the hit when we expect it then if we're in the middle of a fight or something.”
Just because she was right I didn't have to like it.
“All right,” I grumbled. “There's not a latch to force, and I don't know how to make it loosen again. This is going to be rough.” I wrapped the tips of my fingers around the edges, tested the metal for any flex. “One, two, “I ripped the damn thing from her arm, throwing it away as she yelped then collapsed forward.
I held her to me, rocking until her whimper turned into a glare.
“Three. You're supposed to count to three.”
“Huh. We'll take it up with Doc when we're home, alright?”
A fiery band marred her flesh. While I was too angry to notice anything else, I tore my own cuff off.
Yup, a nasty shock.
I grabbed the shredded metal and threw the bits down the last corridor we'd passed. “Just in case they're still tracking us.”
“More likely they've already set off an alarm,” she countered.
“Then we better hurry.”
The environmental controls room sprawled before us, machines hissing and rumbling, criss-crossed and gridded by a series of dividers and half-walls.
“How are we going to find something out of place in all of this?” Loree wondered.
“We'll start with anything to do with ventilation,” I decided. “You show it to me, I'll take it apart until we find something out of place.”
A crappy plan, but all we had.
An hour later, we had nothing.
“I don't know what else to do,” Loree sagged against one of the partitions next to the machine she'd just examined. “That's everything that should be connected to the dome's air supply.”
A slow clap echoed through the control room. “And a very thorough job you've done of it, too.”
A pair of SysSec agents darted from either side of the partition, flanking her before I could cross the room. Stanton stepped out, still clapping.
“Make sure she stays still.”
An agent pulled a shock stick, held it to her chest.
“I wouldn't suggest moving, girl.” Stanton didn't bother looking at her, confident his order would be obeyed. My fingers curled into claws, but nothing I could do would help.
There was no way to reach her before the shock knocked her off her feet. Probably killing her.
And Stanton knew it.
“If you get the girl, the beast will follow.”
He'd given the order to Tobias and Melra, and now we'd delivered ourselves to him.
“What was it,” I spat. “The cuff?”
“Oh, those were mostly decorative,” he shrugged. “You provided me with your every move yourself, ever since you assaulted my agents.”
“What?”
“Well, not you. Her.”
Loree became ashen. “What? No I didn't. I never sent anything...” Her voice faded away. “Oh no.”
“Catching up? You were so careful, both of you.” Stanton crossed the room, poked my chest, knowing full I couldn't retaliate. Couldn't breath any way he might take offense at. “Destroyed an Agency ship. That whole ridiculous routine with ditching the shuttle at Outlander, then crashing it. Fake identities, jobs. You've been very busy, you two.”
He wandered back to Loree, and a growl slipped out of me. He didn't bother to react. He didn't need to.
“Through it all, you kept your beacon with you.” He reached for her hip, then carefully, without touching her, slid the tablet from the bag.
“Remember where you got this?” he mocked.
A tear spilled as Loree nodded. “Tobias' ship.”
Void. He was right. We'd had a tracker on us the whole time, and never realized.
“Xander, I'm so sorry,” she sobbed.
“Not your fault, babe.” And it wasn't.
I should have figured it out earlier, been more alert. Should never have let her leave my side to be where Stanton could touch her. Hell, never should have let her leave Orem.
“Take her away,” Stanton snapped. “No need to worry about him.”
“Well, isn't this interesting,” a bored drawl echoed through the room.
Stanton's eye twitched. Just by a micron, but a twitch.
A pair of soldiers in deep crimson uniforms glided into the room, followed by another pair, then a third, forming a narrow aisle.
A tall man sauntered between them, blond hair waving. Void. Was that a cape?
Four more soldiers followed hi
m, fanning through the room, charged sticks ready in their grips.
The idiot in the ludicrous outfit surveyed the room, one eyebrow cocked, then stopped in front of Stanton, ignoring the rest of the scene.
He didn't say anything, just waited.
Yup. A definite twitch.
And then Stanton knelt.
“Your Highness. What an interesting place to start your inspection.”
Loree
Your Highness?
Despite the fancy getup, that was Burr, not any...
Oh Void.
“I inspect whatever catches my attention,” Burr answered.
No, I caught myself. Prince Vanadalar. Who for some reason had been masquerading as a mechanic.
“And at the moment I'm wondering what's going on here.”
Stanton rose to his feet, bowed. “Your Highness, these traitors infiltrated the facility.”
Prince Vandalar met my eyes without a flicker of recognition, turned to Xander and shrugged. “It doesn't seem like they're very good at it. What do you think they're doing?”
Stanton blinked at the question and I shoved back a nervous giggle. The poor man must've gotten used to being surrounded by people he already controlled.
“They're planting a bomb.”
“Really.” The Prince turned in place surveying the scattered casings and housings from our search. “It does seem a bit messy in here. Did it already go off?”
“No, your highness.” A muscle near Stanton's jaw jumped.
“Oh, good. Can you show the bomb to me? I've always been terribly fascinated by explosives.”
Wait.
Was he deliberately baiting Stanton?
In theory I approved, but I'd feel better about it if there wasn't still a shock stick pressed to my skin.
But anything that slowed Stanton and his goons down had to be a net positive.
“Burr, Your Highness, we're not traitors.” I protested.
The shock stick pressed harder and I flinched.
“My agents have the situation under control, your highness.”
Vandalar tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “Is it necessary to keep that weapon at her throat? I find it disturbing.”
“Yes, your highness,” Stanton ground out. “It's the only way to control the beast.”
Vandalar tapped his foot, making a show of deliberating. “No. I'm sorry. You'll have to figure something else out. I'm taking her.”
“What?” Stanton, Xander and I all shouted.
Vandalar flicked a finger my way. “Her. I'm taking her now.” Two of the Crimson guard peeled off from the squad surrounding him and approached the SysSec agents that held me.
“You will release her to my care,” Vandalar said silkily. “Unless you think you can override my orders.”
“Of course not, your highness.” Stanton commanded the agents to step away with a quick gesture.
“Good. I so dislike having to repeat myself.”
The moment the weapon moved away I took a deep breath, cleared my mind.
The surprise of Burr's identity didn't change anything, not really. We still had to find the virus.
“The fire tower,” I whispered softly as I could, wishing for Conner and Eris' bond. “Go.”
I met Xander's eyes as they burned through me. Saw his small shake of refusal.
“Quit worrying,” I insisted. “That's my job.”
His lips tilted up, then he vaulted over the housing, making a break for the entrance of the room.
“Stop him!” Stanton roared, but the Crimson Guard stayed still.
“They really don't take orders from anyone but me,” Vanladar said. “And I'm busy I'm afraid.”
Stanton bowed stiffly then marched out of the room, talking quickly on a commlink, the SysSec agents following behind in lockstep.
I slumped against the partition.
“Good thing you got here. That was about to go bad.” I pulled myself together. “Now I've got to go help Xander.”
Vandalar raised his eyebrows. “No, you seem to misunderstand. You're coming with me.”
“But he needs my help!” I insisted, but the Crimson guard boxed me in, not leaving any room for me to break away.
He'd find it, I reassured myself. Xander would be fine. Time to let him do his job, and see what I can do from here.
“I'm not sure if you understand what's going on,” I tried again.
“I'm not sure if you do,” he snapped. “I suggest you learn quickly, and start by remaining silent.” With a swish of his cape he left my side.
Escorted by his guard we twisted through the facility until suddenly the corridor changed, became less utilitarian, more ornate.
“Let me guess, they redecorated for you?” And then I realized. We weren't on the map anymore. “Where are we? And don't tell me to be quiet, that's not happening.”
“Somehow I supposed that. No, my ship's been docked here for over a week.”
Oh. We could take off and Xander would be left behind. He'd have no way of finding me.
I swallowed my fear back. Of course, Xander would find me. And I would make Burr's life a living hell if he tried something so stupid.
That settled, I looked around the room. Gold brocade covered the walls, dark wooden furniture with carved gilded accents and deep crimson upholstery.
“What do you think?”
“It's a little overpowering.”
“It's a family ship. It's designed to be,” he answered blandly.”Can I get you a drink?
“No, you can listen to me. There's a plot against you, and Stanton's at the head of it.”
“There's always a plot. And usually Stanton is the one trying to tell me about it.”
He reclined on an obscenely overstuffed lounge, and patted the seat next to him.
I paced instead. “How did you get here without anyone knowing?”
“I'm the prince. I can get places. Besides. Boehm is related to the captain of my guard. It's better to observe without people putting on a show.”
Likely true, but not helpful, not right now.
“But I'm much more interested in you,” he continued. “ And don't tell me the whole trader who needs the cash to fix the ship story. I checked your file, that's what it says.” He smirked. “But you told me you've coded your whole life. And I watched how you worked. That was the truth, not what was in your file. So I followed you.”
“Does that mean you'll listen to me?”
He leered. “Maybe later.”
I spun, threw my hands in the air. “If your grandfather was this much of an idiot, no wonder Granny Zayda left him,” I snapped.
Vandalar jumped upright, sloshing his drink. “What?”
For the first time since he walked into the environmental controls room the bored mask slipped away.
“You heard me. She'd have eaten him for breakfast but at least their heirs would have the sense to listen when someone is trying to warn them about a mind control virus.”
“I want to know what you're talking about,” he insisted, stalking across the room towards me.
“That's fine, we all want things. I need you to listen to something else first.”
He grabbed my shoulder and I slapped his hand away. “Don't try it.”
Vandalar took a deep breath. “I apologize. However, I would like you to explain that remark. What part of me being the prince are you not understanding?”
“The part where I'm wondering why we're trying to keep you alive.”
He refilled his drink, stirred it gently. “You say you're trying to save my life. Stanton says you're trying to kill me. Why should I believe you?”
I took a breath, let it out. Said the words as calmly as I could. “Stanton has a mind control virus. He's planning on releasing it in the dome. Probably during a ceremony, to get you, as well as the guards and the scientists.”
Vandalar merely slid open a panel on the wall. “Captain, make sure our air supply is not in contact with that of the dom
e. Thank you.” He closed the panel. “Was there something else?”
“You really want Stanton in charge of a research facility? Whatever they've dreamed up for a power source, it wouldn't take much to turn it into a weapon.”
“If it comes to that, we can always liquidate Themis. But I'm not convinced of your story yet. Mind control, really? No one's managed that. And believe me, we've tried.”
How to make him listen? He have access to Stanton's files, but the tracks would be too carefully covered. I could try to contact Tobias or Zayda, but no reason he wouldn't wave them off as disgruntled agents.
Fine.
“Have your guards get that Zoombies console. Speed game, fortieth level. I win, you back us up.”
The fop and the mechanic disguise were both gone now, just a canny man, not much older than me.
“I won't act against the Empire.”
“Then we better start playing fast. Because if Stanton wins, the Empire falls.”
And I could lose everything.
Xander
I raced through the corridors, cursing the cameras. Cuff on or not, there'd be no way to hide what I was doing.
That was fine, really. We'd been subtle long enough.
Now it was speed I needed. I needed to get to that tower.
But for all the time I'd spent on the dome's surface, I still hadn't been above the warren of hallways, dormitories and common rooms that made up the underlayer of the research base.
I slowed, a spark of intuition hitting.
What I needed was an ally.
I changed course, making a bet.
The largest gamble of my life had been leaving Loree in that room. But she'd told me not to underestimate Tilly. More importantly, she'd told me, and shown me, not to underestimate herself.
I turned sharply, aiming for the area of the schematic that had been discreetly unlabeled. Usually the interesting things were kept in the blank spaces.
Before the next intersection I stopped, listened. There, the faint crackle of stun sticks charging up.
The need for secrecy long behind me I let a howl rip through my throat as I pounced on the Themis guards.
I dropped below their strikes, spinning to kick their legs out from under them and then used their own weapons to take them out.
