Vanguard Rising: A Space Opera Adventure

by A. C. Hadfield

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Military on their way, looking for something,” Wilbur said.

  “Or someone,” Greta added.

  “You guys better come in.” Harlan opened the door while looking out to the rapidly emptying level. “We’ve found something.”

  26

  With everyone crammed into the small room at the back of the RDC, Harlan wasted no time in explaining what he and Gylfie had found on the chip and drive, respectively. Gylfie went up to the second level and into his personal quarters, where he could monitor the entry and exit points of level two, leaving Harlan to bring everyone up to speed. They all stared at him with expectation. None more so than Bella, who wanted to know about her brother.

  “Gianni is still alive,” Harlan confirmed, “according to Gandit’s data.”

  Bella let out a burst of air and a sob at the news. “So where is he?”

  “I’ll come to that in a moment. The thing you’ll want to know is that according to the report on the drive, Gianni is in some kind of catatonic state after his experience.”

  “His experience? What exactly happened to him?”

  “That wasn’t covered, but this is where it gets interesting and where our cases overlap. The files mentioned Gianni is part of a wider program Vanguard calls Project Inception. There were reports of cracking the abbots’ code as part of the program’s long-term goals, too.”

  Bashir clenched his fist. “That sounds ominous as hell.”

  “What exactly is Project Inception?” Irena asked.

  “That’s the trillion-dollar question,” Harlan said. “We don’t know. But what I do know is that whatever it is, the silicon runners’ office has covered it up. Or more accurately that asshole Hugo Raul has covered it up. I searched the database, and it came back as classified access only. Hugo has blocked it. To hack into that would take weeks, if at all.”

  Wilbur adjusted his glasses and leaned toward Harlan. “What about a location? Do we know where they’re holding Gianni?”

  “We have an idea.” Harlan brought up the data on the holoscreen so they could all see. He pointed to a location on Earth in what was once known as Bavaria. “There’s a number of old derelict buildings down there among a crumbling castle. They’re in there somewhere. It’s a twenty-six-hour journey if we leave shortly and pull two g of thrust.”

  “Can you forward the coordinates to me? I’ll get the Goat ready. I suggest we leave immediately.”

  “There’re a couple of things with that. First, I need to pay Hugo a visit, and second, we successfully hacked the abbot’s CPU that Irena and I recovered. Using that as a proxy, we managed to gain access to the outer level of the QCA. Luca’s malicious code is definitely being routed through Fizon. We confirmed the data signature. The relay points to him being somewhere in that castle. For all intents and purposes, it’s his base of operations.”

  “How long do we have?” Bella asked.

  “At the current rate of attack, Luca will breach QCA security in—” he looked at his terminal “—about seventeen hundred and fifty standard minutes.”

  Bella thought about it for a moment, doing the calculation. “That’s just over twenty-nine standard hours.”

  “Yeah, so you can see that it’s going to be a literal race against time. If the code breaks through, Vanguard will have complete control over every abbot in the solar system.”

  “Then we better leave now before the SMF take control of this level,” Greta said. “Although I won’t be against fighting our way to the dock if we have to.” She and Bashir shared a look that told Harlan they perhaps would prefer that.

  “Let’s try not to kill anyone,” he said. “We’re going to need to leave in a hurry once I’ve dealt with Hugo. I’d rather we didn’t have half the military chasing after us. Besides, we don’t know whether they’re controlled by Vanguard. Trust no one, but don’t assume everyone after us wants us dead either. Make for the ship. Bella, I’ll meet up with you at the dock as soon as I’ve dealt with Hugo.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Irena said.

  “Okay, but if things go bad at Hugo’s…”

  “We’ll deal with it.” Her face was firm. That was at least one thing she had inherited from her parents: a strong will.

  Bashir stepped forward. “What about Gylfie? Is he coming with us?”

  Harlan shook his head. “I tried to convince him, but he’s staying here until the worst of it blows over. We’ll sort his transfer to Bujoldia once we’ve shut Luca down. He’ll be our eyes and ears on Atlas in the meantime.”

  “Then we have our plan,” Bella said. “Okay, crew, let’s head out. We’ll go through the access tunnels to avoid the military goons. Harlan, you take care, and be quick. By my counting, we’ve got less than a three-standard-hour window to work with. And that includes finding Luca and Gianni when we arrive at the castle. That’s cutting it real fine.”

  “I know. Let’s waste no more time.”

  With that, Bella and her crew left for their shuttle.

  Harlan said goodbye to Gylfie over his communications channel and escorted Irena out. They too would have to use the maintenance tunnels to get up to level three before hitching an elevator ride to level seven where Hugo had his apartment. Harlan had already confirmed his presence there with the use of one of Gylfie’s spy drones.

  He checked his weapon, making sure it was loaded.

  It was the moment for Harlan to confront Hugo for the last time.

  27

  Harlan and Irena made it out of the access tunnel on level three and rode the elevator up to level seven. He looked over his ally.

  Irena’s hair was mussed. Grease and dirt flecked her cheeks and neck, and her clothes were covered in dust and grime. From the reflection of the mirrored wall inside the elevator car, it was clear Harlan didn’t look much better, although his old biker’s jacket and overalls disguised most of the dirt.

  Irena blushed under his scrutiny. “What is it?”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. You’ve got some dirt on your face.”

  “No one can accuse me of not getting involved.” She gave him a small smile before looking back at the control panel of the elevator. The numbers glowed as they continued up until they finally stopped at seven.

  “We’re here,” she said.

  “Yep. Better get this over with.”

  — Another abbot attack has just gone down on level four, Milo said, reading out the news alerts Harlan had set up earlier. Damn thing’s taken out a power converter. The military have shut off the entire level.

  Irena’s terminal chirped. She brought up the holographic scene and gasped.

  “What now?” Harlan asked.

  “Have a look on channel nine.”

  He opened his terminal and tuned in. A news anchor was looking into the camera with a serious expression. Above him, inset on the feed, was a slow-motion clip of an abbot gunning down a group of pedestrians before blowing itself up near the bulkhead to the power converters—the machines that took the solar charge and converted it into more usable voltage.

  “Looks like they’re stepping up their endgame,” Harlan said. “Let’s go deal with Hugo before we run out of time.”

  Irena closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “This is awful.”

  “It’s not too late to go back to your parents’ until all this blows over.” He placed a hand on her arm and gently squeezed.

  They locked eyes. Determination stared back at him.

  “No, I’m with you all the way. Though I can’t promise I’ll be all super professional and irreverent like Bella’s crew, or stoic, like you.”

  “You don’t have to be any of that. Just be you. We’re going to need you if we’re to beat this conspiracy, and who knows what else we’ll need to clean up afterward. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  He pressed the button to open the door and stepped into the opulence of level seven.

  A blast of fresh,
cool air wafted over him. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the oxygen-rich air from the new, highly maintained recyclers that he didn’t get access to on the lower levels. The unobstructed light panels bathed the level in a glorious sun-like warmth.

  “Damn, that’s good,” he said, standing still and just breathing it all in, enjoying the tingle of heat on his face. “I always forget what it’s like up here with the privileged folk.”

  Irena mumbled something, but cut herself off. Harlan saw that her cheeks were pinker than normal and realized that as the daughter of Carlos and Victoria Selles, she had spent most of her life up here in the upper levels.

  Annoyed that he’d embarrassed her, Harlan adjusted his jacket and suggested they carry on. They left the elevators behind and crossed over a narrow gantry to the main part of the level. A wide atrium made of steel and white faux marble stretched out across the center of the station. Glass barriers along the sides gave the residents an unparalleled view of the inner workings of the spinning structure.

  A few hundred people were hanging around the atrium. The three corridors led off from its east, west, and south sides, funneling citizens into the central area. A wide range of the human and abbot population had gathered around the large media screens.

  “Where are we headed?” Irena asked.

  “The east corridor—that’ll take us to Hugo’s place.”

  Benches and seats were filling up, and the crowd was growing every minute as the news anchor’s voice boomed over the PA system, informing them of the current threat and the attack on level four.

  Irena drew close to Harlan and spoke quietly into his ear. “The military service is coming.” She remained tight by his left side and was doing her analysis thing of the surrounding people.

  Harlan couldn’t see the military personnel, but Irena had apparently already worked out a path. “Follow me. There’s a route through the crowd.”

  Although he wasn’t entirely sure the military service would apprehend him, given the way things had gone, he didn’t want to take any chances. With his hand casually inside his jacket, resting lightly on the butt of his pistol, he followed Irena as they snaked through the group of pedestrians.

  It reminded Harlan of his childhood. A game he used to play with the other orphans on level three. One of the carers there would get them lined up, one behind the other, their hands on the hips of the person in front. She would then call out directions, and they would have to turn left, right, or carry straight forward, the snake of children howling with laughter.

  The person always behind him during the snake game was Luca. His old friend had decided, even then, as a four-year-old, to keep his orphan-applied surname. Harlan wondered how much that had affected him growing up. Was something as simple as an anonymous surname so influential that it embedded within the individual the seed of the idea of a life in the shadows?

  He had Milo make a note to remind him to ask Luca when he found him. Right before putting a bullet in his head.

  Irena dragged Harlan to the left and around a column. “Nearly there.”

  A group of three Platonic philosophers, in their modern take on togas, ceased their discussion. The trio split apart, allowing Irena and Harlan to bustle through and into the east corridor.

  Harlan nodded his apology and increased his walking speed.

  The residents’ row had fifty apartments on it. Twenty-five on either side. Hugo’s was number twenty-seven, on the right-hand side so that he had a window looking out into space.

  A few people, mostly political aides and analysts, came out of their apartments and hurried toward the elevators. No one said anything to Irena or Harlan as the two of them turned the corner and approached the door to number twenty-six.

  Irena pulled Harlan back behind the corner. “Wait. There’s a guard outside. Armed.”

  Harlan pressed his body against the side and peered around. She was right. An SMF Marine stood outside Hugo’s door. She wore civilian crowd-control colors and was armed with one of the new Ramford rifles—a weapon supplied on contract by a subsidiary of the Ceres Mining Company.

  “Irena, you distract her. Get her to turn her back to me, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Irena’s eyes grew large with alarm.

  “Don’t worry. We don’t have time to negotiate.”

  “You’re not going to kill her, are you?”

  “No, I’m just going to temporarily alter her state of consciousness. She’ll be fine. I promise.”

  Irena looked up at him with those dark smoky eyes of hers. She tugged at the edges of her short-cropped brown hair, which appeared black in the shadow of the corridor. “Okay. What shall I do?”

  “Anything to get her to turn her back to me.”

  Irena looked to her feet for a moment and then nodded her head. “I got it.”

  With that, she stepped around the corner and strode down the corridor toward the guard. The woman turned to face her, her rifle, previously aimed at the ground, rising just a few millimeters.

  She commanded Irena to halt.

  “I’m sorry.” Irena held up her hands. “But I need your help. I’m Victoria Selles’ daughter. Someone attacked me. There’s a rogue abbot…”

  Irena stepped past the guard so that she was facing back toward Harlan. The Marine turned and placed a hand on Irena’s shoulder, trying to calm her down as Irena increased the drama of the situation.

  — She’s very good at the acting. I’d watch out for that.

  — Shut up. Stop trying to undermine her.

  Seeing his opportunity, Harlan removed the pistol from inside his jacket, sprinted the ten-meter distance, and clubbed the unsuspecting Marine on the back of the head, just above the neck. The Marine didn’t know what had hit her. She dropped the bulky rifle and collapsed forward into Irena’s arms. Irena helped her to the ground and looked up at Harlan with concern. He checked the unconscious woman’s pulse. She was fine.

  “We’ll have to be quick,” he said. “We can’t hide her anywhere, and she could come to at any moment.”

  Irena nodded to the cuffs and graphene restraint straps on the woman’s webbing belt. “Let’s gag and tie her, then.”

  Together they bound the woman’s legs and wrists.

  Harlan removed the woman’s comm unit so that she couldn’t update the rest of her squad. He placed it over his ear, but used Milo to access the unit’s OS. He disabled the broadcast. He would only be able to receive, which is what he wanted; it’d give him a heads-up if something bad went down.

  Harlan looked over the woman’s body, but found nothing suitable with which to gag her. He had nothing that could easily be used either. Irena, however, was wearing her arm warmers.

  Reluctantly, she removed one, and they used it to gag the Marine.

  When they were finished, Irena tried to hide her bare arm behind her back, but Harlan saw the scars on her forearm.

  They shared a look.

  Harlan wanted to ask her about it, but it wasn’t the time or place.

  — This girl has got more secrets than your ex-wife, Milo said.

  Harlan didn’t respond. “Here, take the pistol.” He handed the weapon to her. “I’ll take the rifle… and these confusion grenades.”

  He turned his attention to the door. With one heavy kick, it smashed open, splintering the polymer frame. The door clanged off the wall, but he was already halfway in, rifle raised, and the door bounced harmlessly off his hip.

  Irena slipped by to his left, pistol raised.

  “Damn it.” Harlan’s vision adapted to the low light of the apartment. “We’re too late.”

  Hugo was in the middle of the room and staring right at him.

  His head was lopsided. His complexion was the color of lunar dust. His eyes bulged with the last few moments of panic when he had probably changed his mind but knew it was too late. The noose around his neck gripped tightly, and the way his body hung told Harlan that he had broken his neck the moment he had stepped off the dining
table behind him.

  The apartment reeked of pungent rot and the voided remains of Hugo’s bowels.

  Irena retched and turned away. Even Harlan, used to finding dead bodies as part of his job, had to fight to keep the bile from rising.

  28

  Harlan and Irena dragged the guard’s body into the apartment and cut Hugo down, placing his body on the couch, out of view of any curious passersby.

  “What do we do now?” Irena asked. “This was our last lead to Project Inception…”

  “Search the place for drives, disks, hell, even paper. Anything that could have information on it.”

  Both Harlan and Irena started their search.

  Despite the upper-level apartment, Hugo’s place was even smaller than Harlan’s. With a few soft furnishings, a single bedroom, and a luxuriously appointed bathroom, there was little in the way of clutter and storage. It took no more than ten minutes to make a thorough sweep.

  While Irena continued to look about the place, Harlan programmed an AR overlay based on Hugo’s fingerprints. He set the algorithm to scan for prints less than a day old given average dust fall. A few moments passed and a map of red marks overlaid his vision. Hugo had handled kitchen utensils, perhaps making himself a last supper, and manipulated the apartment’s control panel.

  Irena sighed and slumped into an armchair. “It’s useless. He must have destroyed everything before killing himself. He probably found out about Gandit and followed protocol. These Vanguard people sure are loyal to their movement.”

  “Hugo was only loyal to one thing: himself. There’s something else going on here.”

  “Murder?” Irena asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No… I think he killed himself, but… there’s something not right here.”

  Harlan inspected Hugo’s body more closely. At first nothing stood out, but the more he looked, the more he realized the shape of Hugo’s skull wasn’t as spherical as it ought to be. There was a flat section a few centimeters across just below his crown.