Silent Order: Axiom Hand

by Jonathan Moeller

  “It won’t work,” said March. “The device is impervious to anything we can do to it. And I have it on good authority that the relics of the Great Elder Ones are dangerous.”

  “Like, how dangerous?” said Tolox. “Nuclear bomb dangerous? Asteroid hitting the planet dangerous?”

  “It is possible,” said March, “that one of their devices might accidentally open a gate to their reality and let them back to this universe.”

  Tolox stared at him.

  “How do you know that?” she said at last. “It sounds fantastical.”

  “I know that,” said March, “because an artificial intelligence built by one of those extinct alien races to fight the Great Elder Ones told me all about it.”

  “Seriously?” said Tolox.

  March nodded.

  “Good God,” said Tolox. She rubbed her face with her hands. “So, you’re telling me there’s an ancient alien machine in Deveraux’s warehouse, and if somebody tampers with it the wrong way it might open a gate to let a bunch of cosmic horrors from another universe onto Rustaril.”

  “I’m afraid so,” said March.

  “Good God!” Tolox shook her head. “You came here to track down a murderer…and now there’s some kind of ancient alien weapon of mass destruction sitting in Rykov City?” She got up and started to pace.

  March nodded again.

  She thought it through. “If we blow up the factory, and a power surge goes into that device the wrong way…”

  “It could be bad,” said March. “Nothing might happen. The thing’s only the size of both of my fists put together.”

  “Well, you’ve got big fists.” Jokes were unlike Tolox. The news had indeed agitated her.

  “But I don’t know how it works,” said March. “And even if we just blow up the warehouse and nothing happens, we can’t leave the device buried in the rubble. Someone might find it. I wouldn’t trust the Renarchist Republic with the thing any more than I would trust the Machinists. It needs to go back to Calaskar so the Silent Order can figure out a defense against the other applications of the Great Elder Ones’ technology that the Machinists have used against us.”

  “All right,” said Tolox. “We’ll think of something.” She pointed at him. “This just stays between you and me, right? Don’t even tell Dredger. Both Casimir and Axiom might get greedy if they knew what was really in that warehouse.”

  “Axiom already knows,” said March. “She could see that the device was emitting dark energy.”

  Tolox blinked. “Dark energy? Hyperspace radiation, yeah?” March nodded. “I thought that was impossible to stabilize inside a planetary gravity well.”

  “So did I and thousands of generations of human scientists,” said March. “Evidently the Great Elder Ones disagreed.”

  “Okay,” said Tolox. “This is what we’ll do. We’ll tell the others that Lorre is using an extremely unstable alien device to put the ghost drones’ implants into a quantum state.” She laughed. “Suppose it’s close enough to the truth. We’ll also tell them that if the device is mishandled, it might explode and wipe out Rykov City. Which I suppose is also not that far from the truth. You’ve got experience disarming the devices, so before we blow up the warehouse, we’ll have to figure out how to secure Lorre's device.”

  “Casimir still might try to steal the thing,” said March. “Or Axiom, if she thinks that she can sell it.”

  “Well,” said Tolox, “suppose it’s up to you to keep that from happening.”

  ###

  An hour later they gathered around the main desk and watched the video March had taken of the warehouse’s interior.

  Dredger snorted. “Naked Companion guards. Sounds like a bad video game plot.”

  Casimir grunted. “I heard rumors that the Securitate was worried the Companions could be used as weapons against the Citizens of Calaskar. If their programming was hacked remotely, they could turn against their owners en masse.”

  “Lorre doesn’t need to bother,” said March. “He’s hacking the Citizens of Rustaril, not their androids.”

  “But if the basement is unguarded,” said Helen, “then the rest is easy. We’ll sneak in demolition charges through the subway tunnel. The blueprints Mr. Casimir found will tell us where to place them. One of the easiest jobs we’ve ever done.”

  “It is going to be more complicated than that,” said Axiom in a soft voice.

  “I’m afraid she’s right,” said Tolox. “This is the problem.”

  She paused the video and zoomed onto the nanobot fabricator. The image resolution was clear enough that March had a good view of the alien device in its cradle.

  “What is that?” said Casimir. “Looks like a big damn bug.”

  “It’s not,” said March. “We wondered how the ghost drones’ implants were in a quantum state. There’s our answer. That is a highly unstable piece of technology from an extinct alien race, and Lorre has adapted it to modify his nanobots. That’s how the ghost drones are able to hide their implants, how they’re able to be drones without even realizing it.”

  “Looks valuable,” said Casimir. Axiom turned a blank expression his way.

  “It’s more dangerous than it is valuable,” said March. “Lorre is playing with fire, and I don’t think he realizes it. An entire Machinist task force got wiped out by one of those devices.” That was distorting the truth. The Machinists had gone to Monastery Station to get their quantum inducers back, and the Custodian had wiped them out when March had provoked them into attacking. “If the wrong kind of power surge enters that device, it will explode, and the resultant energy discharge will likely vaporize Rykov City.”

  “So if we blow up the warehouse…” said Dredger.

  “We might have a much bigger explosion that we wanted,” said March.

  “Goddamn it,” said Casimir. “Not only is Lorre turning Citizens into drones, he’s also bringing dangerous alien technology into the city? Deveraux is an idiot. Why did he get into bed with Lorre? If I wasn’t going to shoot him, I would smack some sense into him.”

  “It seems our objective is then twofold,” said Axiom. “We must first secure the alien device and get it out of the warehouse. Only then will it be safe to destroy the building.”

  “And just how are we going to do that?” said Dredger.

  “A distraction,” said March.

  “And what kind of distraction is going to scare off that many guards?” said Casimir.

  March thought about it. “How many of those Hiroth assault drones do you have?”

  “Eight,” said Casimir. He scowled. “But I need them to guard my clubs. Otherwise, the guests get rowdy. If I get rid of those drones, I’ll have riots in my club and the Securitate up my ass.”

  “That’s unpleasant,” said Tolox, “but having Lorre accidentally blow up Rykov City would be bad for business.”

  “For God’s sake,” said Casimir. “Why does being patriotic have to cost so much damn money?” He pointed at Axiom. “You already cost a fortune to hire. You…”

  He stopped mid-rant, blinked, and grinned.

  “Although,” he said, “I happen to have a warehouse full of Hiroth Mark VI assault drones.”

  “Isn’t that model defective?” said Tolox.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Casimir. “The power cells can explode unexpectedly. Or expectedly, if there is a power surge through their central CPU bus.”

  “How many of them do you have?” said March.

  “One hundred and forty-seven,” said Tolox.

  “What the hell?” said Helen, eyes wide. “How did you get ahold of one hundred and forty-seven defective Hiroth Mark VI assault drones? That’s like your own private army.” She blinked. “Your own private defective army.”

  “I didn’t know they were defective at the time,” said Casimir. “It was a deal with a supplier that went bad, and I agreed to be paid in goods instead of cash. Which was stupid. I have a warehouse full of assault drones, and no way to sell them.”

>   “Might not be able to sell them,” said Tolox, “but I bet you can find a use for them now.”

  Casimir sighed. “Damn it. Fine. What did you have in mind?”

  March told them.

  Chapter 8: Attack

  It took the rest of the day to prepare for the attack.

  Casimir took March and Axiom to the warehouse where he stored his one hundred and forty-seven defective assault drones, the warehouse itself owned by multiple shell companies to keep them away from Casimir’s other businesses. The assault drones stood in silent rows, like statues buried with a long-dead ancient emperor. They were shorter and blockier than the Mark XIIs at the Renarchist Pride’s, with wheeled treads instead of feet. Their arms held built-in plasma cannons, and each one had a rocket launcher mounted on their shoulders.

  March and Axiom busied themselves by removing twenty of the rocket launchers from the drones and loading them into the back of Dredger’s van. As they did, two semi trucks driven by Casimir’s employees pulled up, and the drones booted up and rolled into the trailers. It was only six miles from Casimir’s warehouse to Deveraux’s complex, but there was no way one hundred and forty-seven assault drones could roll down the street without drawing official attention from the Securitate.

  Dredger drove them to the buildings surrounding Deveraux’s warehouse, and one by one they sighted the rocket launchers on the warehouse yard and wired them to remote triggers. No one noticed their activity. People tended not to look up, and while the guards at Deveraux’s complex were vigilant, they weren’t paying attention to the surrounding buildings.

  After that, it was time to get ready for the attack.

  “Plasma charges,” said Tolox. She tried to lift the bag next to her desk, grunted, and gave up. “Eighteen total. If you place these at the indicated locations in the upper level of the warehouse’s basement, when they go off they’ll cause a total structural collapse.”

  “They’re set up for remote detonation?” said March.

  “Yeah,” said Tolox. She handed March a phone. “Burner phone rigged to just the charges. Call any number, and the charges will go off. Boom. No more warehouse.”

  “No detonator for me?” said Axiom.

  “If I get shot,” said March, “you can take the detonator.”

  “Very well,” said Axiom.

  “Good luck,” said Tolox. “Dredger and I will stay with Casimir and inform you when the drones begin their attack. If this goes bad, our fallback position is the Rykov City Hotel south of the spaceport.”

  “All right,” said March, picking up the bag of plasma charges. The damned thing was heavy. “Good luck.”

  “You too,” said Tolox. “Hopefully by this time tomorrow, Lorre will be dead, the factory will be destroyed, and that alien artifact will be disarmed.”

  March nodded. And if all went well, by this time tomorrow he would be flying out of Rustaril Station on the Tiger, heading for the nearest core system of the Kingdom of Calaskar with another piece of the technology of the Great Elder Ones.

  Of course, if anything went wrong, anything at all, they all might be dead.

  They took a moment to sync their phones to a private, quantum-encrypted channel. That ought to let them converse without fear that the Securitate or Lorre or anyone else would listen in. March fitted his earpiece, as did Axiom, and together they left Tolox’s warehouse and descended to the subterranean levels of the city.

  A half-hour later they returned to the abandoned subway station. March swept his flashlight back and forth over the dusty platform and the crumbling murals of fit, cheerful Citizens working in factories, so different from the reality of contemporary Rustaril. More rats skittered away from his flashlight beam, but nothing had changed in the subway station since their last visit.

  “I don’t think anyone has been here since we left,” said March.

  “I calculate agreement,” said Axiom.

  March led the way down the subway tunnel, heading for the breach that he had carved into Deveraux’s basement. After about a hundred meters, he heard a faint rushing noise from ahead. He froze for an instant, fearing that the tunnel was about to flood, or that a train had been diverted onto the ancient tracks, but then he realized the noise was coming from the breach in the wall. It was the noise of the warehouse’s HVAC equipment, amplifying and echoing through the subway tunnel.

  They reached the breach without incident. No one seemed to have noticed it. March set down the bag of plasma charges, his shoulder aching more than usual, and climbed through the breach. The lower basement was still deserted, and he saw no trace that anyone had disturbed it since yesterday.

  A hard, fierce eagerness started to rise within him. Twice before Simon Lorre had been one step ahead of March, but perhaps this time the Machinist operative would not escape. Lorre had a great deal of innocent blood on his hands from the events at Rustbelt Station and Monastery Station, and March was sure that Lorre had enjoyed a long career of murder and subversion and mayhem long before their paths had ever crossed.

  Perhaps it would end tonight.

  “It looks clear,” said March as he returned to the subway tunnel. Axiom nodded and sat down against the wall, stretching her legs before her, and March seated himself next to her, the bag of charges between them. “We’ll wait until we hear from Tolox and the others that they’re in position. Should be about two hours or so.”

  “Very well,” said Axiom.

  An hour passed in silence. Every so often March or Axiom stood and stretched, keeping their muscles limber for action. He was amused and a little disturbed to see that Axiom used the same kind of stretching exercises. The training of the Iron Eyes was just as brutal as the training of the Iron Hands.

  “I wish to ask you a personal question,” said Axiom when March sat back down.

  He grimaced. “This isn’t a good time.”

  “On the contrary,” said Axiom. “We are alone, and no one is within earshot. Additionally, the noise from the air handlers makes it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop on us.”

  March sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know? I might not give you an answer.”

  “When we arrived,” said Axiom, “your heartbeat and body temperature rose in such a way to indicate anticipation.”

  “We’re about to do something dangerous,” said March. “That’s an automatic physical response. I would bet your heartbeat and body temperature did the same thing, even with your altered metabolism.”

  “Agreed,” said Axiom, “but I calculate you are looking forward to this confrontation.”

  “I’ve dealt with Lorre before,” said March. “He killed a lot of people. Ruined a lot of people’s lives. It’s time he paid for that. And if he isn’t stopped here, he’ll keep on doing it.”

  “Then do you desire justice,” said Axiom, “or revenge?”

  March shrugged. “Sometimes they’re the same thing.”

  “Which is why you wage war against the Final Consciousness,” said Axiom. “Not because of your loyalty to the King of Calaskar, but for revenge for what was done to you and to stop the plans of the Machinists.”

  March shrugged again. “If you like.”

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” said Axiom. There was no accusation or emotion in her face or voice, only curiosity.

  “Not particularly,” said March. “Everyone dies of something. Maybe I’ll climb through that damn hole and crack my head on the edge.”

  “Mmm.” Axiom considered that. “Are you a virgin?”

  “What?” said March, thrown by the sudden change of topic.

  “The question distresses you,” said Axiom.

  “It startles me,” said March. He almost told her to mind her own business, but he kept talking. “You know I’m not. You know the Iron Hands are given women as rewards for successful missions.”

  “And after you were removed from the Final Consciousness?” said Axiom. “I have observed firsthand that you are physiologically capable of performing
.”

  “And after I was removed from the Final Consciousness, yes,” said March, rubbing his neck with his right hand. God, but this was one of the strangest conversations he had ever had. “But not for a long time now.”

  “I see,” said Axiom. “I hypothesize that you hate what you used to be and any reminder of it is intolerable to you.”

  “For God’s sake,” said March. “I should have just told you that I was married. Or that I didn’t find you attractive.”

  Axiom smiled. “It is difficult to lie to a woman when she can see your blood pressure change.”

  The silence stretched between them, and then March laughed.

  “What is amusing?” said Axiom.

  “I’m starting to see,” said March, “why Helen has to do all your negotiating for you.”

  For the first time, Axiom looked almost rueful. “Yes. Social niceties are often beyond me. They are difficult when you view the world entirely in mathematical terms. How many seconds should be spent on polite small talk before business begins? What percentages of compliments should contain falsehood? What proportion of honesty is acceptable? All these questions cannot be solved mathematically and are a constant vexation to me.”

  “Is that why you are here?” said March. “You want to get yourself killed?”

  “I do not. I desire to be paid by Casimir,” said Axiom. “My long-term goal is to earn enough wealth so that my sister and I can live comfortably in some remote place.” Her face softened. “I also want for my sister to marry and have children, for that is what she desires. My life has been difficult, but so has hers. I wish for her to experience happiness.”

  “Money cannot buy happiness,” said March.

  “A cliché and a rationalization. And money can purchase security, which is almost as good.”

  “If your sister is the one who wants to get married,” said March, “why did you try to sleep with me?”

  Axiom shrugged. “Because I wished to. I do not often experience physical desire, but I did with you. Your musculature and height are pleasing. Additionally, you are confident and competent, which is more desirable than the physical attributes of a man.” Her voice softened a little. “And you would understand.”