Evergence: The Prodigal Sun
Page 29
"Which do you need first?" he asked. "The control codes, or the message itself?"
"The codes," replied the Box.
"Understood," replied the Box. Roche wondered briefly through the electric fog how the Box had heard the reave, then realised that it must have detected the telepathic impulse through her own implants. "The message, Veden?"
"Is to be addressed to the most senior presiding judge of the High Equity Court on Bini."
"Rehlaender?"
"Whoever. But mark it urgent, as per the agreement with the Commerce Artel of '954.28.09. Encrypt it in YEAMAN cipher, and begin with the words 'All the great butterflies are dying'."
Roche closed her eyes as the Eckandi dictated the brief message requesting an urgent High Equity Court hearing to discuss the sovereignty of the native inhabitants of Sciacca's World. The Eckandi's mission was secondary to her own, and she was impatient to move on. The sooner she contacted her superiors in COE Intelligence, the sooner she could expect to be rescued.
But the lights flashing behind her eyes were hypnotic, as was the ceaseless babble of voices just below the threshold of her hearing. Her skin felt as though it was being brushed by thousands of tiny hands, touching, probing, pulling her in every direction, as the data pouring through her system fed back through her implants and into her brain itself.
Only with great difficulty did she regain control long enough to realise that Veden had finished. She closed her eyes in an attempt to clear the unnerving sensation of seeing from many points of view at once, and took a step forward. Her thighs struck the edge of the processor, helping her reaffirm her grip on reality.
"Yes," said Emmerik. "All we have to do is wait for a reply."
"Standard communication to this sector may take days," said the Box.
"Better than nothing." The Mbatan beamed. "It's been sent, that's the main thing."
"Wait," Roche said. "What about — ?"
"Not now," said Cane. "Look at the screens. I think we have a problem."
Roche opened her eyes and focused as best she could upon the view of the landing field. A moment passed before she realised what she was supposed to see: two flyers, circling the MiCom building.
"Both guidance systems are shielded," said the Box. "I am unable to countermand their pilots."
"It's only a matter of time before they fire," said Neva worriedly.
"Time and politics," Haid said. "Delcasalle won't want his precious installation blown to bits if he can help it."
"Does internal security cover the roof?" asked Cane.
"Yes," said Haid. "At least we don't have to worry about ground troops coming on us through the ceiling without us knowing — "
"I am registering a security breach!" interrupted the Box.
"Where?" said Haid.
"This level. Exact location unknown."
"The door?" Haid asked.
A screen flickered, displaying an image of the security door at the entrance to the top floor. It was undamaged.
"We'd better have a look anyway," said Haid. "In case they've managed to infiltrate the mainframe with a virus or something."
"Impossible," said the Box. "I would know if the image had been tampered with."
"He's right, Box." Roche looked around her; the fog cleared slightly. "I'll go with you, Haid. Can I let go of this damn thing now, Box?"
"Yes. Having established the link, I am able to reroute the data from transmitters in the — "
"Good." Roche took her hand off the datalink and stepped back from the central processor. The flow continued unchecked, but now that she had something to do, it felt less distracting. "Let's go."
Haid led the way through the maze of corridors. A steady thump-thump, perhaps from energy cannon, became noticeable as they approached the door.
"They're trying to blast their way in," said Haid, grimacing.
"Possibly. Neither of the troopers on the floor below has that sort of equipment, though. It might be something else."
"Such as?"
Roche shrugged. Through the nagging buzz of the Box, she couldn't think of another possibility.
The door, when they reached it, was undamaged. Haid placed his hand on the compounded metal.
"It's cool," he said. "So at least we know they're not burning their way through." He cursed under his breath. "What the hell are they up to?"
At that moment, a muffled blast echoed through the top floor, and the steady thumping ceased. In its wake, a siren began to wail. The floor's security had failed, somewhere.
Haid and Roche headed back the way they had come. As they rounded a corner, they ran straight into a cloud of black smoke. Holding their breath, they rushed through. They entered clear air on the far side, and Haid became more vocal with his cursing.
"They came up through the floor!" he said. "Tell the Box to seal all access doors except the ones we need — "
the Box said into her thoughts.
"It's already done." Roche clutched the grip of her rifle more tightly. "How much further?"
"Not far. We — "
A door they had just passed suddenly dissolved into a ball of white flame. Seeing two armoured figures climb through the smoking hole, Roche doubled her speed. They passed through another open access door, which hissed shut behind them, then entered MiCom Control. A sturdier airlock sealed the way behind them, but not before Roche saw the door farther down the corridor burst open.
"We have to move," said Haid, gesturing urgently at the exit on the far side of the room. "Is there another way out of the building from this floor?"
"Only the roof," said Cane.
"I can launch transport to pick you up," offered the Box. "As we discussed earlier."
"Do it," said Haid. "How long will it take?"
"Five minutes," said the Box.
"Damn. That's too long." The rebel leader looked thoughtful for a moment, then glanced at Emmerik. The Mbatan nodded.
"Okay, Box," said Haid, turning back to Roche. "Broadcast a message over the radio transmitters, 115.6 kilohertz. The message is: 'Retribution'. That's all. Repeat it three times." Haid nodded. "That should delay the Dato for long enough."
The airlock crackled as repeated batteries from energy weapons heated it beyond its tolerance. The smell of scorched metal filled the room.
"Move, people!" Haid waved them out of the control room, one by one. Neva and Roche once again helped Veden onto the back of the combat suit and slid his arms through the straps. With every heavy step, the Eckandi's breath hissed softly in Roche's ear; his arms hung limp around her throat.
The corridor led to another maze of offices.
"Which way?" Emmerik called.
Roche relayed directions given by the Box until they reached a narrow flight of metal stairs leading to a service hatch in the ceiling. Neva went first, nudging the hatch aside with the barrel of her rifle, then slipping through. Emmerik went next, then Jytte, Roche and Veden, Maii and the others. Haid, the last through, dogged the hatch behind him and stood up to survey the view.
They stood in a glass-windowed observation platform, half open to the evening air. Wind snatched at Roche's face, carrying with it the sharp sting of dust. The sound of the two flyers circling the building was loud in her ears, rising and falling as the craft came closer, then drifted away. From the base of the building, voices floated up to them, shouting orders, calling for reinforcements. Plumes of smoke still rose from the foyer, as well as from the burnin
g truck by the main gates.
The city of Port Parvati lay under a deep shroud of black, deepening by the moment as the sun slipped below the horizon. Only the seemingly solid band of the Soul remained to illuminate the battlefield. Far away and to the northeast, a storm hovered over the mountains like an enormous, shadowy beast, waiting to spring.
"Are you okay, Veden?" Roche asked over her shoulder.
"I'm still here," breathed the elderly Eckandi.
"Hang in there."
"If we keep low," called Emmerik from the far side of the platform, "the troops in the flyers might not see us."
"Agreed," said Haid, edging away from the hatch.
A thump from below made them all tense; the two troopers had found the stairwell.
Haid nodded. He remained where he was, though, a half dozen paces from the hatch with his rifle trained on the place the trooper's head would appear.
Roche jumped as a flash of white split the sunset. The hatch exploded into the air and clattered to one side — blown upward by fire from below. Maii hissed between her teeth as she fought to regain control of the Dato trooper. One armoured hand reached out of the hole in the roof, clutching for purchase. With servos whining, the sleek, shining suit clambered into the night air, its high-powered rifle slung over one shoulder —
And stood there, immobile, frozen by the reave's will.
Cane ducked closer to retrieve the rifle at the same time the nearest flyer snarled angrily overhead.
"They've seen us!" Haid shouted over the noise, crouching automatically as fire strafed the observation platform.
Cane fired at the belly of the flyer as it sped away from them. The powerful Dato weapon discharged fierce bolts of blue-white energy that sparked viciously when they hit. Cane kept firing as the flyer curved upward into the sky to avoid the attack. Only when the craft dipped lower and vanished behind the bulk of the building did Cane let go of the trigger. The previously constant whine of its engines had changed slightly, become more irregular, halting.
Damaged at least, thought Roche, if not out of the game entirely.
The second flyer swooped to attack, this time more cautiously. Its underbelly turrets rotated smoothly, seeking the upright figure of Cane. He ducked and rolled for cover behind the frozen Dato trooper. The flyer's shots landed wide of the mark, destroying what remained of the platform's low roof and sending glass shards flying.
When the second flyer had passed, Roche let go the breath she had been holding. Too close, she thought. Much too close. It was only a matter of time before the flyer returned — and this time, they might not be so lucky.
A concussion from below heralded the arrival of a new form of attack: mortar bombs. The whistle of the shell grew rapidly louder, with no clear way to tell where it would hit. Then the corner of the observation platform where Jytte was standing suddenly exploded. The shock wave knocked everyone off their feet except for Roche, who watched helplessly as the woman was flung through the air amid a burning hail of rubble.
Roche staggered, hurriedly clearing grit from her eyes. The whistle of another mortar coincided with the growing whine of the undamaged flyer. She sought cover on the exposed platform — but there was nowhere to hide.
"We're too exposed up here!" she shouted over the noise.
"I know," Haid shouted back. "But we don't have any — "
The second mortar exploded, cutting him off. Roche once again held her ground. She hadn't had time to recover, however, before a solid kick knocked the rifle from her hands.
She stumbled back a step, blinking furiously, distracted by dust and the fog caused by the Box. Another blow spun her sideways before her suit could correct her balance. Raising an arm desperately, she managed to block the third blow. The solid ring of armour on armour coincided with her realisation of who was attacking her.
The Dato trooper — released from his stupor by Maii's distraction — stepped back to aim a kick at her stomach. She dodged aside, attempting to twist him about his centre of gravity while he was off balance. But his suit was too fast, or hers too old, and he pivoted easily out of her grasp. Cursing, she aimed a solid blow to his helmet that hurt her fist, even through the armoured glove.
The power-assists of his joints growled as he assumed a combat stance — arms outstretched, legs planted firmly to either side — and waited for Roche's next move. She feinted to the right, jabbed at his shoulder with her left fist. The blow glanced aside, and he elbowed her in the chest. His other hand swept up to strike her in the exposed face, but she ducked in time. She felt the clenched ceramic glove pass by bare millimetres from her ear, then ducked under his arm to strike him in the stomach.
He staggered backward. Roche, back-heavy because of Veden and winded by the blow to her chest, didn't press her advantage as she would have liked to. The second flyer screamed by overhead, strobing the dusk on all sides, distracting her. The trooper ducked low and charged, using his helmet as a battering ram. Roche lunged to one side in time to avoid the crude attack, but not quickly enough to dodge the outswept arm that almost knocked her off her feet.
She cursed breathlessly, hating to admit that she was no match for the trooper in hand-to-hand combat — outclassed by superior technology, confused by external impulses invading her own head, and forced to take her elderly passenger into account. But she had no choice, and her companions were too busy trying to survive to assist her. Distantly, she noted the steady blast of the Dato rifle in Cane's hands as it once again sought the undamaged flyer.
While the armoured figure turned to charge again, she searched for the rifle on the blackened roof, and found it nearby. Unfortunately, the trooper noted the shifting of her gaze and also saw the weapon.
They lunged simultaneously at the same moment another mortar exploded nearby. Roche arrived an instant sooner, sweeping the rifle into one hand. The trooper's gloved hands closed over hers as she tried to turn the weapon on him. Slowly but inexorably he forced the barrel back toward her face. She grunted, trying to fight the superior strength of the Dato suit until the blood sang in her ears.
She looked away from the mirrored visor of her opponent and down into the black eye of the rifle. The hand clutching the trigger guard tightened, prepared to snap the metal bracket simply to make the gun fire. Once would be enough. Once, and Roche would never have to worry about her mission — or the Box — again.
Then something reached past her, over her shoulder, and the weight on her back shifted. A naked hand battered at the Dato trooper's visor, distracting him momentarily. The barrel shifted aside a bare instant before the weapon discharged, dazzling Roche and singeing the side of her head.
She pushed herself away from the trooper, screaming, and the weight slipped from her shoulders. Veden! she screamed — Veden! Then realised that the voice issued from inside her head and not from herself. It was simultaneously coming from all around her and from the depths of her very being.
Veden!
Flames clutched at her scalp, digging in with claws of fire, and she fell backward. Her hip absorbed most of the impact, sending waves of pain through her weak ribs and shoulder. Still screaming through the stench of burning skin and hair, she batted at the fire with her gloved palms until it was out.
Only then did she open her eyes.
The Dato trooper was standing over her — dead, but still standing, as the Surin's scream ripped his mind apart. Eventually, with a quiver, the suit toppled backward and lay still.
Roche rolled over and, through the one eye that had recovered from the energy bolt, stared at the body of the Eckandi lying next to her. The top of his skull had been blown away.
Veden!
The scream cut short with a wrench of emotion that would have overwhelmed all of them on the observation platform had it not been quashed instantly by its source. It w
as replaced by a high-pitched, keening wail of grief. Roche clambered to her knees and sought the Surin through the smoke and darkness. The girl was nowhere to be seen, so she sent her mind instead — to comfort, to support, to succor. But the wail — the only audible sound that she had ever heard from the Surin — continued unchecked.
Then Emmerik's voice sliced through the noise and the rising buzz of the undamaged flyer as it turned to strafe the building yet again:
"They're here! Ameidio, they're here!"
Roche climbed unsteadily to her feet and hauled herself to the edge of the platform, following the direction indicated by Emmerik's outflung hand. Below, in the gloom, she could see heads turning as Enforcement faced a new enemy. Not the flyer the Box had arranged to meet them, but a ground force of some kind — at least two hundred armed people swarming on foot through the open gates of the landing field.
"Box — " She stopped, cleared her throat of dust. Through the buzz of data and the ringing in her ears, her voice sounded inhumanly hoarse. "Box, give me a clearer picture. Use the security cameras and enhance the image."
The view through her left eye split in two. In one portion she saw as normal; in the other, she zoomed closer to the attacking squad. She glimpsed figures dressed in what looked like crude robes, carrying identical weapons. Her ears caught the sound of an unfamiliar discharge: not harsh, like energy rifles, but almost musical — a split-second chime at a very low frequency.
She struggled to identify the sound until the view pulled back to encompass the Enforcers below. One by one, as the strange weapons fired, energy rifles failed. Armoured suits locked, immobile, and toppled to the earth. The second flyer swooped low to investigate this new challenge, and its engine changed pitch as sections of its drive malfunctioned instantly.
HFM weapons, she realised. Of an ancient design, too. But where — ?
She whirled around to face Haid and Emmerik. "You told me they were radioactive!"
"They were," said the Mbatan.
"They marked a graveyard!"
"And will again when they are returned." Emmerik limped closer, smiling sadly. "They are the one and only asset belonging to the descendants of the original settlers. What better use could they be put to than to revenge the deaths of the people they once killed?"