Redemption Protocol (Contact)

by Mike Freeman

  She floated in warm eiderdown, enveloped in its velvet touch.

  Surely she could nap for just a little while?

  111.

  Havoc emerged from the pyramid’s entrance field.

  A Gathering party marched toward the pyramid led by the giant black and gold suit of Arzbad-Framander Zuelth, Sword of the One True God, et cetera, who was, to Havoc, deeply unwelcome in this place, on this day, at this time. Jafari hurried alongside Zuelth, though he was dropping off the side like a fishing boat swept aside by an advancing formation of battleships. Jafari gestured helplessly.

  “They want in.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “They won't stop.”

  “Ok.”

  Havoc strode toward the Gathering as the rest of the Alliance team emerged from the entrance field behind him.

  “Jafari, where is Novosa?”

  “She’s off grid. There’s a lot of jamming to the south.”

  “Flyover and make contact, please.”

  “Will do.”

  The Gathering party was still in open water, so to speak, though they were closing rapidly with the cabins clustered near the pyramid entrance. Havoc didn't want them to get that close.

  The thudding fire from the static defense station scattered dirt a few meters in front of Zuelth. The Gathering halted abruptly and Zuelth’s eyes lit up.

  “How dare––”

  Havoc cut Zuelth off as he marched forward.

  “You are trespassing. You are breaking the terms of our agreement.”

  “I demand to––”

  Havoc strode straight past Zuelth.

  “You will walk with me now to the edge of our encampment, away from our buildings, or I will remove you. Once you are there, I will see if Ambassador Abbott is available to meet you.”

  Havoc ignored Zuelth’s explosive reaction and marched on. Abbott and the others watched by the entrance. Havoc reviewed the battlespace. The Gathering deployment around the western entrance of the pyramid suggested imminent action. He cast to the Intrepid.

  > Yamamoto we have a situation with the Gathering. Can you do a sensor sweep with the Hel and ensure the Glorious Messenger is aware you have eyes on.

  > Ambassador Abbott?

  > I support John’s course of action.

  > Sensor sweep underway. I’ll confirm eyes on the Glorious Messenger with Whittenhorn.

  Havoc felt the none-too-subtle sweep of the Intrepid’s phase array from space as the Gathering party stood grumbling amongst themselves. The Gathering party looked at the static defense stations then reluctantly followed Havoc. A kind word and a gun beat a kind word alone, he thought.

  > What’s going on, Havoc?

  > One minute, please, Mr Whittenhorn. We have hostilities imminent here. Please let the Glorious Messenger know the Intrepid has eyes on.

  Havoc raised a hand to stop any protest as the Gathering party approached.

  “Arzbad-Framander Zuelth, you have my respect but today you have had poor advice. The security situation is delicate enough without unnecessary provocation. Please ensure that in future, if you wish to visit, your security staff speaks to us beforehand. Now, by your leave, I will request that our Ambassador come and speak to you.”

  “No need, John, thank you.”

  Havoc stepped back as he deferred to Abbott, who stood to one side of the Gathering party.

  “Ambassador.”

  Zuelth half-spun and gesticulated wildly at Abbott.

  “We know you've found someone in the pyramid!”

  Abbott stared at Havoc. Oh shit, Havoc thought. Abbott spoke slowly, his brow deeply furrowed.

  “Arzbad-Framander Zuelth––”

  Jamming surged on the western side of the pyramid. Alerts triggered in Havoc’s mind’s eye as his battlespace showed Gathering soldiers swarming through the western entrance. There was a crack and the rolling thump of a detonation.

  The Gathering team stepped back into a hostile stance. Havoc did the same. He readied their platforms. Where the fuck was Novosa? Had they taken her out? Fire erupted from the far side of the pyramid. They were right on the brink. Havoc cast to Abbott.

  > May I?

  > Go ahead.

  Havoc spread his hands, palms upward.

  “Arzbad-Framander there are heavy munitions, static defense stations and mines all the way to the center of the pyramid. I know your men fear nothing from death, but still their deaths will be pointless.”

  Havoc and Abbott stood facing Zuelth and his party, each buffeted by the wind. Zuelth stared at Havoc, his features impassive. Zuelth genuinely didn’t seem to care.

  Abbott cast to Havoc instantaneously.

  > Have they penetrated?

  Havoc had no idea. What was happening inside the pyramid was frustratingly unclear given the total block caused by the pyramid entrance fields.

  > I don’t know for certain. It’s unlikely they’ll get through the entrance hall.

  > I don’t want a war, John.

  Havoc tried to conceive of a reason for the Gathering to cease their incursion.

  “There are layers of defense stretching along the tunnels for kilometers, Arzbad-Framander. The nuclear munitions could destroy the entire building. Don't commit your men. Don't damage this place or anything that might be inside it.”

  Abbott stepped forward.

  “I would add that we are urgently considering your earlier request and the best way for you to join us in exploring the pyramid.”

  “You will allow us inside?”

  “We are considering how best to facilitate some type of joint access.”

  Zuelth, head of what now appeared to be a diplomatic diversion, turned and looked at the man next to him. They nodded to each other and presumably one of them radioed to pull their men back as Havoc could see the Gathering soldiers retreating from the western entrance on his feed. He nodded at Abbott.

  > They’re pulling back. Looks ok.

  > I just hope no one is critically injured or dead.

  Havoc didn’t share Abbott’s sense of optimism.

  Arzbad-Framander Zuelth looked satisfied.

  “That is excellent, Ambassador Abbott.”

  “I hope no one was hurt, Arzbad-Framander Zuelth.”

  Zuelth smiled.

  “God smiles on us this day.”

  Havoc breathed a sigh of relief.

  “We are pleased to hear it, Arzbad-Framander,” Abbott said.

  Zuelth nodded.

  “We are truly blessed. Five of our brothers have passed through the gates of heaven and entered paradise.”

  Havoc raised an eyebrow. Abbott took a moment, presumably to allow his perplexed reaction to Zuelth's comment to subside.

  “I commend you on your restraint, Arzbad-Framander.”

  “I look forward to hearing of our arrangements for access within the next two hours, Ambassador.”

  Abbott bowed his head.

  The Gathering team turned to leave.

  Havoc assumed that this had been the Gathering plan all along. The Gathering would probably consider five lives in exchange for access to the pyramid a good deal.

  Abbott stared at Havoc with a frown on his face.

  > How the hell did they know?

  112.

  The atmosphere in the library was subdued. Weaver sat with the others contemplating the horrifying images they'd seen.

  “You would think a gravitational anomaly of that magnitude would simply destroy whatever it contained,” Darkwood said.

  Weaver agreed with Darkwood’s logic but it didn’t fit the facts.

  “You would. But then why would Plash sustain the beam?”

  Karch pointed through the stacks.

  “Fournier is wandering again.”

  Fournier shuffled through the stacks like a lost toddler. It hurt Weaver to see Fournier’s condition – it felt like an affront to Fournier’s dignity. Fournier turned and reached his hand out to toward the plinth opposite them. Weaver
leaped to her feet in panic.

  “Fournier!”

  Kemensky jumped backward as Weaver sprang forward, both trying to stop Fournier from accessing the library.

  Kemensky grabbed hold of Fournier as Fournier’s outstretched fingers neared the plinth. Weaver instinctively grabbed Kemensky's arm to drag him away. Fournier’s hand touched the plinth. Kemensky seized up, turning insensible. Weaver felt her hand contract around Kemensky's arm.

  She gasped as the corporeal world shrunk to nothing. She appeared on an abstract plain surrounded by nothing but possibility. The carousel appeared and Fournier selected a level.

  A stratospherically high level.

  Fear took hold of Weaver. She had no control. There was no doorway out. Her senses were gone. She couldn’t manipulate the space the way she normally could. She was a passenger and completely at the mercy of Fournier’s ability to manipulate the eight sequences that streamed past her awareness. The carousel spun in front of her. The difficulty levels were staggering and the associated power levels were terrifying. If Fournier entered a level then he wouldn't be able to exit safely without managing the sequence. Fournier accessed information on a star that resembled Jötunn.

  Oh no.

  The carousel vanished as the star burned fiercely before them. Weaver felt an extraordinary, intoxicating rush from the access at such a stratospheric level. The coherent clouds glowed in the image, highlighted as a distinguishable part of the star’s boundary. Of course, Weaver thought, it was the coherent clouds that fascinated Fournier.

  Fournier selected one of the clouds and it zoomed and spun as alien symbols streamed past it.

  Weaver’s attention was elsewhere. Terror gripped her as the eight sequences glowed fiercely. The difficulty level was incomprehensible.

  Not only that but Fournier wasn’t paying them any attention. The intensity became intolerable. The sequences glared brilliantly as the symbols oscillated violently, clearly wanting to move forward.

  Weaver felt her senses whiting out like a flawed contrast control. She was chained to an insane man and staring at the sun. How the hell would they get out of this?

  One of them, or all of them, were going to die.

  113.

  Novosa awoke as explosions boomed from the pyramid and rolled across the desert.

  Her pain was glorious. She welcomed it. She savored its joy, its color and the texture of its jagged escarpments. She felt her strength return in the presence of her pain. Her body was a swirling amalgam of different types of hurt.

  She had let herself go too far on the hytelline, receded into fluffy clouds that led nowhere but down. The anesthetic was a trap, a siren singing in sea fog to lure her onto the rocks.

  She advanced again, her stumps scratching curving Z shapes on the ground like the sinuous undulation of a snake.

  Her wounds had clotted and she wasn't losing too much fluid. Her head was a bloody, frozen mess – the weak link in her chain. Her suit sustained her, helping ward off frostbite as hot blood flowed through her neck.

  The absence of her hands and legs was bizarre. She blocked it out. It was irrelevant to survival and therefore irrelevant, period. She had to get back. That was all and that was everything. Every clutching grasp was a step nearer life and away from death.

  The air pumping in and out of her lungs was a rhythmical counter point to the pushing of her stumps as she propelled herself forward.

  I'm. Go. Ing. To. Live. I'm. Go. Ing. To. Live.

  114.

  Stephanie stood in the cabin monitoring the data feeds. Abbott gazed out of the cabin with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “What do you think of Havoc?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can we trust him?”

  “After what's just happened with the Gathering?”

  “Could he be our saboteur?”

  “What's wrong, Michael?”

  “You know him better than anyone else. Think about it.”

  “I... Has something happened?”

  Abbott didn’t turn.

  “We all know what he's capable of.”

  Stephanie felt increasingly disconcerted.

  “He's been working as hard as any of us... Hasn't he?”

  “He's been in the right place at the right time, wouldn't you say?”

  She frowned.

  “I'm not sure. I don't think so.”

  “Can you stay with him, find out what's going on.”

  “What about Jafari?”

  “What about him?”

  “Well, didn't Havoc find those things in his cabin?”

  “Hmm.”

  “And the Gathering found out that something is inside the pyramid, not long after Jafari went to pray with them.”

  “Yes.”

  “So wouldn't that indicate...?”

  “That Jafari is our spy.”

  “Wouldn’t it?”

  “It all lines up, perfectly.”

  Stephanie watched Abbott warily.

  “Right.”

  Abbott’s tone was unusually cold.

  “There’s something about Jafari that slightly changes my perception of that picture and of John Havoc.”

  Stephanie felt like the cabin was smaller all of a sudden; a lot smaller and still shrinking.

  “Oh?”

  “Virgil Jafari is Special Service, Section Nine.”

  Stephanie’s eyes went wide. She stared at Abbott, stunned. She squeezed the words out, her throat not working properly.

  “Section Nine?”

  Abbott turned to face her.

  “Other than you, there is no one I trust more than Jafari. No one.”

  Stephanie felt like an escaping prisoner illuminated by a search light. Her mind raced as she adjusted to this new reality. On the outside, she was ice. Her voice strengthened.

  “That's great. That puts us in a strong position.”

  Abbott looked solemn.

  “Stephanie, I need you to take a terrible risk and stay close to Havoc while Jafari and I work out what to do. Can you do that for me? Can you stay close to him?”

  She nodded.

  “I'll watch him like a hawk.”

  115.

  Havoc stood outside a cabin with the princes and Jafari. Jafari gestured at the departing Gathering.

  “Do you think we can handle it if we have to, you know...”

  Tomas finished Jafari’s sentence for him.

  “Fight.”

  “We don't want it to come to that now, do we?” Havoc said.

  Jafari looked at him.

  “No, of course not.”

  Havoc tried to sound reassuring.

  “We'll be ok, Jafari, don't worry. We just need to be careful how we play it.”

  Jafari nodded slowly.

  “Sure. Cool.”

  “Anything on Novosa?”

  Jafari shook his head.

  “Nothing yet.”

  Havoc stepped back and lifted his hand to his ear as he pinged Novosa. It was the universal gesture that he was on the radio, so others wouldn't think you were rude when you didn't respond to them.

  “We should release the alien,” Tomas said.

  Havoc couldn’t reach Novosa. He tried to reach Stone instead.

  He couldn't connect to Stone either.

  Tomas waved an arm at the pyramid.

  “It's now or never. It won't be long before the others are inside. We need to be bold.”

  Havoc turned to Jafari.

  “I can’t get a ping from Novosa’s suit. Nothing.”

  Jafari looked at him strangely.

  “Are you worried about her?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Jafari nodded.

  “I’m sweeping with the platforms. The Gathering is jamming anything on the west side and the United Systems and the Empire of the Sun are jamming south. It’s a real mess, sensor-wise, but I’m sure we’ll pick her up soon.”

  “Anything else you can do?”

>   “I’ll try.”

  “Thanks.”

  Havoc decided to get in touch with Tyburn instead.

  No response from Tyburn either. What the hell was going on?

  “You think the Gathering might have taken Novosa?” Charles said.

  Havoc looked at Charles.

  “I don't know.”

  Havoc tried Ekker.

  At last, someone answered.

  > Yeah?

  > Ekker, where is Stone?

  > He's in the shaft.

  > How many energy systems have you got on the surface?

  A slight pause.

  > Five.

  They should be lifting out, Havoc thought.

  > Then what's Stone doing down in the shaft?

  > He's working.

  > On what?

  > What the fuck am I, Havoc, your PA? He's working.

  > Where's Tyburn?

  > So I am your PA.

  Havoc waited.

  > He's not available, Havoc. He's in the shaft as well.

  > When will they be back up?

  > No idea. They're setting up recovery on the bigger units. They're fucking massive. Could be a couple of hours, at least.

  > Ekker I want to speak to Tyburn or Stone within the hour. If I'm not, I'll be asking you to your face next time. Sort it out for me please.

  > Well I can't––

  Havoc cut the connection. Jafari stared at Havoc, wide eyed. Havoc could see something was wrong, seriously wrong.

  Jafari’s voice was a whisper.

  “I've got something on the feed from blade seven. It looks bad. Really bad.”

  Havoc accessed the feed and winced. It was Novosa and it did look bad. He ran toward one of the containers with a ground vehicle in it, dropping the end panel and powering up the vehicle remotely.

  “Let's go.”

  “I'll come,” Jafari said.

  The vehicle rolled down the ramp toward Havoc.

  “No, you stay here, Jafari. Track the sensors. Watch the Gathering. Charles, Tomas, you want to help?”