From inside my body, I pull a wedge that I prepared and stick it in the door. It will not reopen now. I look at the security cameras and note that they are off. I set cybertraps to prevent them from being turned back on. I place the instrument case on the table. They are not necessary, my onboard equipment is vastly better. I wave Wrik to follow me.
The room is chill, with metal tables and drains for autopsying bodies, along with body scanners. At the far end is the morgue proper with its slide-in containers for the corpses. We come to the ones we want and I open the one containing the human.
Maauro slides open the container and it pulls out easily. The frozen body is inside a plaststeel inner container which folds away and retracts at her touch. It reveals a young man, little more than a boy, mercifully his eyes are closed. He lies naked, but a small box at his feet contains his clothes, which Maauro pulls out and examines before replacing.
I look at the unknown boy and feel a pang of sadness. The body has the sunken, waxy look of death. Who was he? Who missed him when he went into space and didn’t come back? What dreams had been his? The body shows damage and the marks of an autopsy.
Our files said the boy had been found years ago in the frozen lifeboat, but how long he had lain dead in the boat wasn’t known. The lifeboat had been original equipment on the New Hope when she launched centuries ago, so that told us nothing. There was no way to tell when she’d been launched from the starship.
Maauro moved her hands over him, her finger filaments out. I looked away. I knew she would take samples from the interior, but didn’t want to know the details. A few minutes later she pulled up the plast-steel sections. “Now for the unknown alien.”
We slid the dead boy back into the wall. I placed a hand on the outer door and said a silent prayer for him. Perhaps it was foolish. But he’d been a human and deserved some remembrance, some sign that he was more than a curiosity.
Maauro opened the container with the alien corpse in it. My first impression was of a delicate creature about the size of Maauro. The bone structure was light and fine, the skin had an almost velvety look of dark-green, the eyes were large and a dark purple with small whites, the hair on the head had a feathery look. I saw no obvious sign of gender, but that didn’t mean much. Like so many of the lifeforms we’d encountered it was bipedal and humanoid.
“Those look like burns,” I said, pointing to the chest.
“They are,” Maauro said. “Blast damage as well. This being was caught in an explosion.”
Maauro extended her finger filaments into the alien’s mouth and nose. As the alien didn’t engage my sympathy as much as the boy, I watched with greater equanimity. She spent a few minutes examining the body and looked only briefly at the clothes, which were similar to those of the boy. They had clearly traveled together.
After a few minutes, she quickly repacked the body and slid it into the wall. Maauro walked over to the stand-alone computer and infiltrated it, taking only seconds to copy the records. “I have recorded all I can here. Analysis will take longer but does not need to be done here. Time to leave.”
“I’ll add this to the long list of places I’m glad to leave and never see again.”
I pick up the case as Maauro opened the door. The corporal stood facing the door and I wondered if he’d been staring at it for the half-hour we’d been inside. He took us back to the front desk, where we were examined with a portable scanner and had our case checked again. The scanner didn’t so much as bleep as it moved over Maauro, doubtless she was controlling it. Sometimes her ability to influence electronic equipment seemed damn near magical. I was glad the Confederacy had never had to face either her Creators or their enemies, the Infestors. Their technological heights were still out of sight of our abilities.
We walked away, but I didn’t like the way the lieutenant’s eyes stayed fastened to our backs. I wondered if he had, in fact, queried our orders again. We took the elevator back up. I slipped into the base gym and ditched my instrument case in a locker there. We didn’t need anything but the clothes on our backs until our transport left. It felt good to be unencumbered.
I rejoined Maauro outside the gym. “Where should we go?” I asked. “We’ve got hours until the plane leaves.”
“There is a library two levels down,” she said.
I frowned. “I’d rather be outside.”
“What explanation would we have for standing out in the heat and humidity? It is near to evening, but still quite warm. We can hardly sit under a palm tree in uniform. No, in the library we can remain still and quiet for hours and not be observed.”
It was hard to argue with her. So I followed her down two levels. The library was more of a quiet area. There were some actual books and magazines lying about, along with tablets and alcoves for those who wanted to study in private. Screens were all over, but set so no one could see the materials. Maauro and I picked up tablets and dialed up local news, finding a quiet corner to sit in. Occasionally someone would consult the library officer in hushed tones. One older civilian sat in a corner with a heavy bound book in his hands. He practically fondled the pages as he turned them.
We’d sat for an hour, Maauro regularly changing the material on her tablet, me staring at it without reading, when she reached over and touched my arm. She rose and I quickly followed her out. As soon as we exited, she turned left and headed for a staircase.
“A security alert has been called in the base; I picked it up from the base AI. The officer on the desk did requery our orders. The base AI has your and my orders of transit on and off the base, but those do not reference checking the secured rooms as we did.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“If I had included it in our transit orders, then it would have sent an automatic alert to HQ in Globalis. No, inserting the inspection in our orders had to be done locally, from inside their security. So far, all they have is that we are authorized to be here, but that we have two mismatching sets of orders. The alert is low-level, just to locate us and reconfirm our orders.”
“How long until they figure it out?”
“Assuming they do not find us, then about three and a half hours minimum likely closer to four. I routed our transit orders from the Saturn regional office. A transmission will take that long at light speed, with some highly variable time to check the databases and respond. I cannot break into those highly secure communication nets without causing an alarm.”
“Not enough time for us to get to the transport.”
“No. Even if we did, the transport could be recalled and we would have to seize it. But then where would we land? Worse, we would not get to the transport. Even a low-level alert will stop us from setting foot on the airbase.”
Ahead, two ISM troopers wearing sidearms stepped into the hallway, fortunately looking the other way. Maauro instantly pushed me into a side corridor and pointed at a spiral metal staircase. I went down it as quickly and silently as I could. We spent the next few minutes avoiding ISM security and checkpoints, always heading downward.
“This is not good,” Maauro said. “The longer they do not detect us the more likely a full security alert or shutdown will be called. Add to that we have been forced deeper into the base. There are too many levels between us and the surface. You may have been right. We should have gone outside.”
“You hide a pin in a drawer of pins,” I said, shaking my head. “We’d have been spotted on the surface already. If we’d tried to leave the base, we’d have to have passed a checkpoint.
“Got any ideas?” I added, trying to keep desperation out of my voice.
“Yes.”
We dodge to the lower levels. While base security remains unsure if there is an actual threat, they proceed cautiously, but rapidly, and in a very effective manner. We are sealed off from the upper levels of the base.
An idea forms in my mind. It is not a pleasant alternative, but we
may have no other effective option. I look about and grab up some suitable pieces of metal and plastic pressing them into my malleable ceramic armor. Once inside, my factories reduce them to raw material suitable for my plan.
Wrik stands back from me, the process of necessity raises heat. “Maauro, you’ll set off the fire alarms in a minute.”
I offer what I calculate is a reassuring smile. “While the base security systems are well shielded, the fire alarms are merely commercial and I can blind them easily.”
“Whenever you start eating the local scenery, it means you have a plan,” he says eagerly.
“Yes.”
Wrik follows me as we drop level after level. I cause a surveillance camera to loop as we pass it. It will be detected eventually, but perhaps not for a critical interval.
We reach an area of the base with an underwater lock. It has not been used in some time and there are no suits or other equipment nearby. The ancient UNOP insignia is still on the door, a dolphin leaping across a triangle.
“What is this place?” Wrik asks, looking at the dank walls and wan light bulbs with concern.
“It’s an airlock dating from when this was an Ocean Patrol base,” I reply. “Seldom used and only maintained occasionally to prevent flooding. There are no electronic systems even.”
“Nor any diving equipment,” he notes
Using my osmotic process I extrude an oxygen cylinder from my mid section followed by flexible tubing and a face mask which I quickly give to Wrik. “Put it on while it is still malleable,” I order. “It will better conform to your face.”
He does so. After a minute I allow him to take it off.
“Underwater escape?” he mutters.
“Yes.”
“Maauro, I can’t swim out to where Jaelle’s got the trawler. We’d planned on stealing a boat if we had to escape that way.”
“Impractical with an alert on. In any event you will not need to swim. I will hold you. We will only need to stay underwater until we clear the immediate high-security area.”
“How deep are we?”
“We are twenty meters down. We will not stay that deep for long, though you may feel discomfort.”
“It’s hard to believe that you can swim given that you… ah…you know being made of metals and…”
“Wrik I am quite aware that I weigh much more than I appear to and I have no sensibilities about weight.”
A look of relief steals over his face.
“How fast can you go?” he adds.
“Carrying you, I can make about 40kph. Faster than that and you might be injured, or your mask’s seal might not be able to handle it. My main concern is drawing an attack where you would be very vulnerable to an underwater explosion.”
“Well if one chance is all you have,” he said, running a shaky hand over his face, “then that’s what you have to do.” He quickly strips out of his clothes.
I adjust the straps and secure the tank to Wrik’s back. The half-bowl mask seals over his face. I still have doubts about the mask’s seal, so I manufacture a mouth tube and rework the mask. “If it floods,” I reassure, “then you will still be able to breathe through your mouth.”
“Yeah,” he said, jaw knotting. “Let’s get this over with before the search gets down this far.”
I turn to the airlock. The inner door has thick grease on the valves and opens, though it would not have been easy for a human. I examine the inner mechanisms where maintenance was less even. I am satisfied that if I need to, I can tear the outer door off when the chamber floods. I open the outer valves and the chamber begins to fill. The yellow light comes off to be replaced by an icy-blue one.
I open the valve on Wrik’s oxygen cylinder. It contains only twenty minutes of air, the best I could do with the material to hand. Then I turn to the wheel-like outer door lock. This time it creaks and threatens to bind, but I force it, stripping the internal mechanism. Darkness yawns beyond the outer door.
Chapter 7
Cold water lapped around my legs. Somehow I expected the Pacific to be warm. The darkness and blue light disturbed me as well. I tried to keep my breathing slow and shallow as the water reached my chest, bringing pressure with it, but my heart hammered. I’d never been a good swimmer and always had a horror of sunken ships and drowning in dark water. The tube inside my face mask rested against my lips but I found the smell of the plastic nauseating and didn’t take it in my mouth as the face seal seemed fine. The water closed over my head.
“Lean forward and crouch,” Maauro said. Her voice, modulated for the water suffered only a little distortion. I felt her behind me, taking my upper arms in her hands. Then we were out of the airlock, Maauro kicking far faster than a human swimmer could. I looked down and saw she’d flattened her feet into flippers. She sounded more like an engine than a swimmer. We tilted upward and I knew we were shallowing as the stabbing pain in my ears eased.
I felt like I was strapped to a torpedo as we picked up speed and the water lightened. I knew that, left to herself, Maauro would have gone deeper to avoid being detected by a satellite or aircraft and swam far faster.
I’m holding her back. Nothing new about that, I thought bitterly. I was determined not to complain about the increasing pressure on my chest and face as we plowed forward, or about the pain in my arms from where she gripped me, particularly on the left side where her grip was not as finely tuned in her replacement arm.
I looked around without moving my head. The mask seal would be stronger for being pressed straight back on my face. All I could see below was darkness and a few small fish; the bottom had dropped away. Above, it was lighter but not bright, our escape had been planned for evening and the sun was doubtless near the horizon.
God,” I thought, “don’t let us have to do this in darkness.
We slowed and Maauro let go of me with her right arm. I felt her press something into my right ear.
“Can you hear me?” Her voice sounded tinny in the little speaker.
“Yes,” I don’t know how she heard me, but I’d long since ceased to be amazed at her abilities. “Why have we slowed down?’
“We are approaching the security curtain; the base’s electronics are optimized at this point. Once beyond this half a kilometer wide zone, I can speed up again, but for now, even with my best ECM and water refraction camouflage I must slow and act more like a fish. So, expect random vector and speed changes as we work our way forward. I must be wary of sonar and use this earpiece to speak to you.”
“You probably make a better sonar return than a fish,” I said.
“Less than you think. My ceramic alloy body was made to avoid detection by more sophisticated devices than these. Plus your biological body muffles the signal as well.”
I could not turn my head far enough to see her. “How are you staying afloat? I don’t hear your legs cycling.”
“I have generated two black airbags out of my back. They offset our lack of buoyancy.”
I felt surges as Maauro, trying to be a fish, darted around. We proceeded for what I knew was only minutes, but felt far longer.
“Trouble,” Maauro said. “An anti-submarine drone has been rerouted to check on us by the base AI.”
“They’re onto us?”
“No, this is a precaution by the AI due to the heightened alert. We have been identified merely as a curiosity, not a threat.”
“What can we do?” I asked, heart pounding. I felt helpless.
“Nothing until it gets closer. The unit is an unmanned mini-copter carrying a torpedo. I can try for a cyber-hack, but I have no long-distance weaponry. If it gets closer, there are ways I can deal with it. All of them have their drawbacks.”
“Can you outrun it?
“Not carrying you.”
I swallowed. “Maauro, I haven’t been counting the minutes—”
; “I have,” she replied. “I have added a line to your cylinder. I am breaking oxygen out of seawater and adding it. Remain as quiet as you can, as it is not a lot of additional air and the power cost is severe.”
We continue our fish-like course.
“The ASW chopper is overhead and scanning us,” she adds. “It has not received an attack command but clearly we look odd to it.”
“If it drops a torpedo—,” I began grimly.
“Quiet, Wrik. I will deal with it. Now.”
I consider my options, the most certain one would be to leave Wrik treading water, zip at full speed to the surface, which would take me high enough to either tear the chopper to pieces, or hit it with my plasma torch. However, this attack would alert the base AI and it would respond with other units and signal its biological masters. I scan and infiltrate. The targeting computer is too well protected to hack without again alerting the base AI. If it is like most combat systems it will go autistic immediately if it detects a hack, then open fire. I infiltrate a maintenance subroutine for the mini-chopper’s fuel system. By manipulating the servos I can bring the unit down by cutting off its fuel.
Inspiration seizes me. I do not want the chopper to come down while investigating us. Instead I begin to vary the fuel intake. The engine runs rough and the chopper dips, then seeks to open its fuel system up to regain power. Again I cause fluctuation. After a few seconds, I detect a biological controller entering into the loop. He detects the engine malfunction and hits override ordering the unit to return to base. Another will be sent out to replace it.
We will not be here. As soon as the unit’s active scanning ceases, I accelerate to the best speed I can with Wrik. It is fortunate that many larger fish are swift. We exit the control area of the security curtain and I increase speed still further. I must also cut off Wrik’s new oxygen supply, hoping that what remains will suffice.
The Lost (The Maauro Chronicles Book 3) Page 6
