Resistance (Nomad Book 3)

by Matthew Mather

  “You weren’t in contact before?”

  “Sporadically, but not enough to maintain a secure connection. It was one of the things I was trying to do with Ain Salah. Build a communication network…but now we’re here.”

  Jess retreated to a bench to strap in for landing. The Otter touched down roughly on the dirt track, waxy light seeping down through the high clouds. Peter taxied the aircraft toward the complex, bringing it to a standstill not far from the largest building. He relaxed visibly as it sighed to a halt, releasing his hands from the flight stick. They shook.

  “That’s good work, Peter,” Jess said.

  He returned her earnest smile, but glanced back at Massarra and his smile disappeared.

  “The medical center is in there,” Ufuk said, gesturing to the main building. “As with Sahl, the majority of the complex is underground. Let’s get Raffa to the medical center.”

  He led Jess toward a smaller building, an innocuous gray block with a single door and barred windows. Ufuk approached the building, taking Jess with him, and located a fuse box connected to external cabling. Ain Salah followed on their heels, while the rest remained in the Otter, unloading.

  “This is not the main entrance, of course. All my staff was evacuated. The only way to open it is from inside. What you might call a back door.”

  He slid a glittering key card—which Jess had never seen before—into a slot at the top of the fuse box. A soft hum issued from within and it hissed as vacuum escaped, then popped open to reveal a wiring junction box with a key pad. Ufuk entered a long code, and then took hold of the whole box and levered it away from the wall. It hinged to the right to reveal a dark pad with a light sheen. He placed his hand it. Nothing appeared to happen, but Ufuk took it away after a moment, then leaned forward and held his face in front of the pad.

  The pad illuminated, a soft glow that was enough to give Ufuk’s face a pale blue luster. A hollow thunk reverberated. Ufuk took the door’s handle and levered it open. Beyond it, the three of them entered a clean, white room, one wall filled with blank widescreen monitors. The walls began to vibrate softly, tremors filtering through the floor and into the muscles in her thighs. Then the whole thing began to descend.

  “We’ll be able to plug your robotic leg back in,” Ufuk offered.

  Jess wanted to tear it off and bludgeon him with it, but that wouldn’t be practical. She took a step back from both of the men and raised her M4, pointed it at Ufuk. No tricks; she didn’t have to explain.

  “This is a small to mid-size launch vehicle facility,” Erdogmus continued, pretending not to notice she pointed her weapon at him. “Based loosely on the Tanegashima Space Center in Japan—”

  “Where are we going, Ufuk?” Jess interrupted.

  “To get this place running.”

  The elevator—Jess realized that was what this whole room seemed to be a lift—thudded to a stop. The far wall slid open to reveal a long room with rows of terminals. Strip lighting flashed on the moment the elevator doors opened, but the screen remained dark and silent.

  Ufuk approached one of the terminals and took out his tablet. He slid it into a dock and waited. At the far end the whole wall was taken up with large screens and, above them, were the words “Mars First Mission Control Center.”

  Jess walked the men into the room ahead of her. “Can we hurry this up?”

  There was a soft hum in the background. The terminals flickered to life, lights dancing across polished screens.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Erdogmus,” A deep, resonant voice boomed, one with a slight English accent. The voice felt immersive. “How nice to see you again.”

  Ufuk smiled a broad grin. “Hello, Simon,” he replied.

  Chapter 6

  Tanzania

  “Easy, take it slow,” Jess urged.

  Raffa groaned in delirious pain as Ufuk and Giovanni eased him from the Otter and onto a stretcher they’d brought up from the medical center. Even the stretcher was like something from a science fiction movie. When Ufuk pulled it from a drawer, it looked like he’d taken out two rolling pins—but the hollow cylinders slid down to extend seven feet with a gossamer-thin-but-tough film between them.

  Jess had kept Ufuk firmly in front of her as they’d jogged through the corridors, a forced march-run. The place reminded her of Sanctuary Europe. White walls glistening. That new-plastic smell. Everywhere they ran, the overhead lighting blinked on with wall-screens coming to life. She was hardly surprised to see an image of a woman that looked like Stephanie—Michel Durand’s digital assistant in Sanctuary—flicker and appear on one of the walls, so she wasn’t the least bit fazed when Ufuk spoke to “Simon,” a digital artificial intelligence that he said ran the place.

  Ain Salah had followed two steps behind, always watching, especially when Ufuk keyed things into the machines he brought to life. Jess was sure Ain Salah was fascinated with all this, and she would be too—if she hadn’t already been in Sanctuary, and if she wasn’t so worried about Raffa.

  “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” she said to Ain Salah.

  The man held Raffa’s hand as they lowered him onto the stretcher. The small Egyptian’s eyes teared up behind his thick-framed glasses. He turned to Jess. “I am not so sure.” His hand trembled as he took off his glasses to wipe them. He held them in his hand at a distance and looked left and right, obviously overwhelmed.

  Jess paused. She hadn’t asked more about his family since they’d briefly talked in the tent, or said what the situation was, or how he’d hoped to reunite with them. He’d always been the steady voice on the radio, beckoning to them. A safe haven. He’d helped keep them secure, had saved their lives. Now she’d dragged him down here to the end of the world, maybe away from his wife and children. Another person she was responsible for, another family ruined, but she didn’t have time to console him.

  Overhead, Ufuk’s tiny drone-sentinels buzzed back and forth.

  Giovanni took the front of the stretcher, and Ufuk the back end. With Jess behind him, they took off at a run across the ankle-deep muck of ash to the open door of the main building. Peter slung a duffel bag of what medical supplies they had and picked up Hector, his small face streaked with dirt, his eyes bleary. Massarra came last. She’d grabbed the green rucksack with the secret metal box. Ufuk said something to her as they ran to the airplane, about taking it to the main facility, but Jess didn’t care anymore.

  Or rather, she would deal with it later.

  They ran into the tunnel and wound their way down level after level. The blinking image of the female digital assistant followed them down, flickering across the wall screens. She, or it, was trying to help, Jess understood, but then she wasn’t going to let Ufuk out of her sight. They reached the infirmary.

  “On the bed,” instructed a voice with a calm, mid-western twang.

  An image of a doctor appeared on one wall of the infirmary. A panel slid open to expose a dozen drawers of medical supplies and bags of plasma.

  “History?” the doctor queried.

  “Gunshot through the upper left chest cavity,” Peter Connor said as he rounded the corner and put Hector down. “Heavy blood loss, with systemic infection. Probably in shock.”

  Something was different about Peter. His voice had changed. His face was sterner. He didn’t look like the goofy, wild-eyed photojournalist Jess had met in Al-Jawf. Whatever the change was, Jess liked it.

  Hector ran to Giovanni and nearly collapsed into his arms. His uncle propped him up onto the bed next to Raffa, and Peter said they’d take of him as well. With the digital doctor making suggestions, Peter grabbed the medical supplies and got to work. In minutes an IV was hooked up, with strong antibiotics dripping into Raffa’s veins.

  “I’ve got this,” Peter said, pushing Jess back to give him space.

  “The boy will survive,” Ufuk said from across the room. “I told you to trust me.”

  Jess just clenched her teeth and gripped her M4 automatic weapon. There wasn’t anyth
ing she wanted to say to him.

  Ufuk crossed the room toward her. “Please, you wanted answers. I can give you answers now.”

  “Stay back.”

  “I’m not armed.” Erdogmus held his hands up. “But I do need to get to my control room. I’ve done everything you asked, and I can answer your questions now.”

  “Where’s Massarra?” Jess growled. “Did she load that thing onto your rocket?”

  “It’s not a bomb. Please. Time is wasting. I need to secure the facility.”

  “Go ahead,” Giovanni said quietly. “I’ll stay with Hector and Raffa.” He took a sideways glance at Ufuk. “And if anything happens to—”

  “I know, I know.” Erdogmus still had his hands up as he eased past Jess.

  She relented and let him pass to follow him into the corridor, but she kept her M4 at the ready.

  Ufuk led her up two levels, walking quickly. “Don’t worry, we are in constant voice contact,” he explained. “Just say the name of the person you wish to speak to.”

  “Giovanni?” Jess said hesitantly.

  “Jessica?” echoed Giovanni’s voice from inside the room Ufuk entered ahead of her. The Italian’s face was displayed on a wall-screen inside. The room was thirty-by-thirty foot square, the sides lined with empty cubicles, each with a monitor, desk and chair. Only one entrance.

  “Just checking,” Jess replied to Giovanni with a tight smile. She saw Hector on the table beyond him in the image on the wall. The boy was wrapped in a blue blanket, and looked asleep. The image blinked off.

  “Can I speak to Simon?” Ufuk asked as he stopped in the middle of the room.

  Jess raised her M4 as if nodding it. “You go ahead.”

  “And would it be possible for you to point your weapon at the floor, perhaps? Despite appearances, you are making me a little nervous.”

  She lowered her weapon, but only a few inches.

  “Simon,” Ufuk said. “Did we successfully awaken the Mars First crew?”

  “On Mission Day seventy-eight,” Simon’s soothing-but-all-encompassing voice answered immediately. “But not all—”

  “I understand, Simon,” Ufuk interrupted, and he smiled at Jess. “Did they process the information packets we included? And the other supply missions, are they within operational parameters? On rendezvous courses.”

  “Affirmative to all questions.”

  Ufuk’s body relaxed at the answer. His smile widened. “Can you bring up a holographic display of the solar system, using the latest data from Mars First?”

  The lights in the room flickered, and Jess took a half-step back. In the next instant, the room dimmed, but then filled with hovering bright dots. She thought tiny drone-insects, like the ones she saw in Ufuk’s gardens in Sanctuary, had flown into the room—but there were also lines and circles arcing out in glowing traces that circled in the air within the room. A bright orb burned in the center. Jess’s jaw and M4 both dropped at the same time. She stepped to one side to inspect the floating display from another angle

  “That’s right, it’s our solar system. Our live solar system, in real time.”

  Ufuk walked to the blue dot of Earth. He cupped it in the palm of his hand, then waved one hand in the air, gesturing a command. A fleck of dots burned bright just to his left. “You see that, Jessica?”

  He pointed at the bright dots.

  “Those are Jovian asteroids, ones that are on an intercept course with Earth. The data we have here is invaluable. Müller would give anything to get his hands on it. That’s why he wanted—needed—to get access to my systems. Plus my launch facilities, my drones, networks…”

  Jess was speechless for the first time in a long time.

  “Simon, could you bring up your latest calculations for the Earth-Saturn intercept in seventeen months? We are still predicting that it will miss Earth?”

  “Yes, it will still miss the Earth.”

  “Good.”

  “But there are complications.”

  The complacent smile slid from Ufuk’s face. “Complications?”

  The graphic surrounding Jess and Ufuk sped up and zoomed in toward Earth. From the distance, the giant orb of Saturn grew larger, its rings massive. The images flickered once and then twice…and then the room lights came back on in full brightness. The holographic images disappeared.

  “Simon?” Ufuk frowned, and then louder said: “Simon!”

  Clack, clack, clack. The sound of distant gunfire echoed through the walls, and then the reverberating rumble of an explosion. The wall screens glowed to life to show images of the Twin Otter outside on the landing strip. Ash and dust blasted away from it. Angular, military VTOL aircraft plunged from the sky.

  The sound of clapping from the hallway. Someone was clapping. Jess turned and brought up her M4.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” said a voice from the hallway, one she would recognize anywhere.

  On the wall screen in front of her, an image formed. It was Hector, with a gun to his head. Through the entrance to the room, six men in coal-black uniforms of the Sanctuary Europe military filtered in, each with respirators and helmets with full body armor, each with their own M4s raised.

  Behind them came Dr. Müller, walking in almost casually. “Arrest them,” he said.

  Two more men entered, their weapons trained on Jess. She thought of shooting Müller, and almost pulled the trigger, but her eyes were locked on the image of Hector. The gun against his head. In a second it was too late; her weapon was taken from her. Her hands were zip-tied behind her back.

  Chapter 7

  Tanzania

  “Does anyone else here have a sense of déjà vu?” Müller asked.

  There was no concern, no jubilation, simply a calm expression on Müller’s face that conveyed he was taking no pleasure in this. His men took seats from the cubicles and sat Ufuk and Jess roughly into them. Four soldiers took up guard positions at each corner of the room, two at the entrance, and two flanking Dr. Müller as he paced in front of Jess.

  “Seems we have been here before, Jessica. Me, with a gun in my hand”—he had a pistol in his hand now—“and you, tied up and surprised. Except this time, no cavalry is coming. No magical rescue.” Müller stopped to address Ufuk: “And we even neutered your digital friend, Simon.”

  “Even if you kill me, you can’t access my systems,” Ufuk said.

  “Security, it’s all about security, isn’t it?” Müller interrupted. “Something you are, something you know, and something you have. Something you are is easy: your fingerprint, an iris scan, or in this case, your living DNA…”

  “Kill me and Simon will never respond to you.”

  “But you would never do that, would you?” Müller replied. “You are too high-minded to let everything end with your own death. Plan A, Plan B, Plan C…doesn’t that sound familiar?”

  At the room’s entrance, Peter and Giovanni appeared with Hector shuffling in front of them, all of them at gunpoint. Ain Salah followed after them, his eyes down.

  “It’s time we stopped this reality game I’ve been playing with you,” Müller said, indicating for his men to seat the rest of them in the middle of the room. He held out on hand to stop Ain Salah, though. “These miraculous escapes, one after the other. Meeting Bedouin in the desert, a smooth entry into Al-Jawf with a safe place to camp, food and water, and then—behold—a frantic escape under fire only to find an airplane fully loaded with just enough fuel to get to Tanzania.

  Müller circled the room. “Miraculous?” he said as he help up one finger and pointed it at the ceiling. “Or helped along by Uncle Müller? I couldn’t have made it too easy, or you might get suspicious. I needed to know everything you were hiding, all of your secrets, and to get access to this facility.”

  He pulled a small tablet from his pocket and stopped in front of them, held it out. A video played. A grainy image with audio of Jess and Ufuk in the tent at Al-Jawf, of someone speaking to them, talking about communications equipment.

  �
��I am sorry.” Ain Salah’s head was bowed. “I had no choice. Dr. Müller appeared in Al-Jawf days before you did. He made deals with the Zuwayya, offered them weapons. He took my wife and son…”

  Jess felt like she’d been punched in the gut, even beyond the numb shock. She’d trusted this man. Had never even suspected those soft brown eyes were deceiving them. The video had to be from the thick black glasses he always wore. The images on the tablet were right from Ain Salah’s own eyes. Everything he’d seen, all the conversations they’d had, all recorded. How could he have betrayed them? Then again, if someone had taken Hector, what would Jess be willing to do? Who would she betray?

  “I am no monster,” Müller said to Ain Salah. “As agreed, you see?” he turned the tablet to Ain Salah, and a video of a woman and boy being set free played.

  “You started a war,” Ufuk said, his voice still calm. “Between the Toubou and the Zuwayya. How many more have you killed?”

  “Replaced one warlord with another.” Müller shrugged.

  “You came all the way here from China?” Jess said to Müller. “How did you…”

  “I wanted you to come here, to Tanzania. I was guiding you. The invisible hand. That attack on Al-Jawf was just a prodding to move things along. And the call from Abbie Barnes? It is true, for there needs to be truth in the great deceptions. Lucca is safe with her outside of Sanctuary China…”

  Despite her shock, Jess felt the smallest bit of relief. At least one of them was safe.

  “This was calculated to make Ufuk believe he was safe. To bring his guard down. And speaking of Abbie Barnes…”

  Another video played on his tablet, this one of Abbie Barnes begging Jess to come with her, that her father General Marshall believed in her. It was during the destruction of Sanctuary, just before Ballie Booker and Michel Durand were killed. Jess winced at the memory. The video froze as Massarra took Jess’s hand and led her away.

  “You were arrested on suspicion of terrorism, and here you are stealing away during the destruction of Sanctuary with the Queen of Spades herself, Massarra Mizrahi. And this despite the daughter of General Marshall begging you to come to safety with her.”