Vanguard Rising: A Space Opera Adventure

by A. C. Hadfield

  “He has a peripheral,” Harlan said, running two fingers across the flattened section.

  “And that’s good or bad?”

  “Not sure yet.”

  — Want me to scan for signals? Milo asked, one step ahead of Harlan’s thoughts.

  — Yes, do it.

  Irena cocked her head to one side and stared at Harlan. “You’re doing that lip thing again. You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know…”

  A bleep from Irena’s terminal broke his concentration. She brought up a screen showing Bella’s face contorted with worry. “Harlan, Irena, things have gotten bad down here. There’s been another abbot attack on level four.”

  “Yeah, we saw it on the news,” Irena said.

  “But that’s not all; the SMF have shut down the port. We had to take off or risk being impounded. We’re currently conserving fuel and orbiting the station, but it won’t be long before we’re hailed by the port authority. We need to leave real soon. Not to mention time’s ticking down in our window of opportunity.”

  Harlan checked the time: 1035. They had less than two and a half standard hours’ buffer time left. He thought about leaving Hugo as is, but he needed intel, needed to know more about this Project Inception and what was likely waiting for them.

  “We’re almost done here. Don’t leave without us.”

  “Then be quick. I’m giving you ten minutes. And that’s because I care about you. I can’t afford to hang around, not when Gianni is out there…”

  “Understood. Ten minutes will have to do, but you’ll have to come to us. Meet us at emergency airlock G3 on level six.”

  “And then what?” Bella’s voice rose an octave. “How do you plan to get aboard? This craft isn’t equipped with a suitable airlock conjoining ring. We won’t be able to lock on.”

  “We’ll cross that metaphorical bridge when we come to it.”

  “You always were the craziest one, Harlan.” Bella shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “Fine, I guess we’ll have to figure something out. Don’t be late. I can’t wait around. Be safe.”

  “Always and likewise.”

  The terminal window closed. Harlan and Irena stared at each other for a brief moment. “What if—”

  He cut her off with a raised hand. “Wait a second.”

  — I’ve connected with Hugo’s peripheral successfully.

  “Yes.” He pumped his fist, eliciting a strange look from Irena.

  It was pointless in hiding that he too had a peripheral, so he quickly told Irena about Milo. Before she had time to react, or for him to worry about her reaction, Milo brought up the file system on Hugo’s peripheral, displaying it on Harlan’s augmented reality overlay.

  He ran a few searches of the files and discovered there was little need.

  Hugo had already preempted events and left only a single file on the system.

  The password prompt popped up. He entered all the usual guesses, but when he had Milo run a library file against it, it was actually his own silicon runner’s server password that opened the file. It was clear that Hugo had intended for him to find the data.

  It was a simple text file that read:

  Harlan, first of all, you need to know I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t got mixed up in all this, but I suppose, looking back at events, it was inevitable. You’re a determined bastard, and you’d have got to the truth somehow.

  It’s too late for me. I’ve been under Vanguard’s influence for nearly thirty years, and I can’t deal with it any longer. I can’t stand to see what will become of the Solar Federation if they’re successful. I am, ultimately, a coward. But a coward with information. I couldn’t risk trying to get it to you any other way; Vanguard’s influence is too far-reaching. They have complete access of the silicon runner servers and most of the government’s systems.

  It won’t be long before they have the QCA, too.

  You’ve probably guessed by now that it was me that helped fake Luca Doe’s death. Your old partner is Vanguard’s key weapon in Project Inception. Trust me when I tell you I did it against my better judgment. I don’t expect you to understand my motivations, but let me make it clear that if I could have stopped them, I would have.

  Now it’s down to you.

  You’ll find him at the included coordinates. That’s Project Inception’s HQ.

  I tried to point you in the right direction regarding Fizon, but Vanguard found out what I was trying to do and sent one of their hacked abbots after you. I trust you survived that. As for Project Inception, I don’t know the full details, but I do know they found something, many decades ago, beyond our solar system. I don’t know what or how they’re using it, but whatever it is, it’s all tied in with the QCA hack.

  If you are reading this, Harlan, you have to stop them at all costs.

  If they gain control of the abbots, that’s it; it’s all over. No more Solar Federation. It’ll become a dictatorship, and who knows what they’ll want to do with it.

  Stop Luca and find out what Vanguard has discovered.

  Trust your gut, Harlan. Data isn’t as reliable as you think it is: it can be manipulated and used against you.

  HR.

  Harlan swiped the file over to Irena and continued to search the apartment while she read it. He also had Milo run the coordinates included with the file. It pinpointed the exact location of the castle. He forwarded the data to Bella in case he couldn’t make it in time. At least she would have a specific location within which to search for Gianni.

  “Do you think this information is legit?” Irena asked, having finished reading the file.

  “I can’t be completely sure, but given our time constraints, it’s all we have to go on.”

  “You worked with him for years, right? Do you think this file matches what you know of his character?”

  Harlan didn’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely. He was always a coward and quick to throw his weight and position around at those beneath him, but he never took on anyone above him. It was one of the traits I most despised about him. He’d always back those in power over his own staff.”

  “But what about giving you the information now? He could have just killed himself and not left this clue. It does strike me as a little… what’s the word… easy?”

  “One thing many people don’t understand about investigation is that quite often cases are solved by the most obvious thing. For example, most murders are committed by someone the victim already knew. Usually family. Most murder cases are solved within the first few days or not at all. Same with robberies and fraud: it’s quite often the most obvious data that ends up being the incriminating evidence.”

  “I suppose there is a correlation to that theory in my field of work. It’s how I built my intuition. Some professors think it’s some amazing skill or a ‘gift’, when, really, it’s just years and years of looking at data sets and recognizing patterns. Some of it is blindingly obvious when one knows what to look at.”

  Harlan checked his timer: they had eight minutes left. “We’ve got to move. We can discuss this more when we’re on the ship. We can’t risk the elevators, so we’ll take the access tunnel up to the next level. From there, it’s a two-minute jog to the G3 airlock. Stay alert. We don’t know who or what might be waiting for us out there.”

  “What about Hugo and the file?”

  “I deleted the file. We’ll have to leave the body as it is. No doubt the Marine will report it when she wakes up. Follow me and keep the pistol ready to use if you have to.”

  With that, he checked to make sure he had a round in the chamber of the rifle, flicked on the safety, and strapped it over his shoulder.

  He and Irena left the apartment, and after making sure the corridor was clear, they dashed away from the central atrium to the rear of the ring that made up this particular level. From there, they moved to where the maintenance and access tunnels were situ
ated.

  Over the years, both as a child and later as a silicon runner, Harlan had traversed the majority of the tunnels in the station, giving him fast and hidden access to many areas and levels. Given the SMF locking down everything in sight, it was their only choice, even if it meant it’d take a couple of minutes longer than using the elevator.

  Harlan used a black-market access chip to open the tunnel. He stepped inside, clambering onto the ladder. “We’re going to that light up there. See it?”

  “Yeah.” Irena’s voice wavered.

  “Are you scared of the dark or of heights?”

  “Neither really, but confined spaces aren’t my favorite places to be.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  Irena nodded. She slipped into the tunnel and pulled the door closed behind her. Hooking her arm around a rung on the ladder, she peered up through the narrow darkness. “Let’s get moving, then.”

  The pair of them climbed their way to the next level, and all the while Harlan ignored the feeling of dread over the idea that the chaos from the levels below had made its way up to the higher levels of the station.

  Two minutes of concentrated climbing later, they reached the light that illuminated the access door to level eight. Harlan shifted the rifle over his shoulder, and, holding on to the ladder with one hand, he reached out, entered the security code, and pushed the door open. The corridor ahead appeared to be empty, and no sounds of panic or firearms came from the level.

  “I think we’re good,” he said, stepping off the ladder and into the corridor. He turned and helped Irena across the threshold. Her arms trembled. A thin layer of sweat covered her face. She made a point of letting go of his hand and standing up straight, as if to show the climb hadn’t fazed her. Harlan couldn’t help but admire her strength and mental toughness.

  “We ought to move,” she said. “Bella’s crew will be here soon.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. The jog to the airlock will help.”

  A shadow passed across her eyes. Harlan had seen that before from victims of trauma. Any other time, he would find a quiet place to sit down and talk it out, but they had to keep moving. “Make sure the pistol is in easy reach,” he said. “We don’t know if we’ll be facing any resistance.”

  With that, Harlan brought the rifle around to his front and carried it in both hands as he set off at a slight jog down the corridor. He requested a map overlay from Milo, as he hadn’t been up to this level in quite some time. His memory of the G3 airlock location was a little fuzzy.

  Especially as it appeared the level had been renovated recently. Unlike most other levels below it, the walls weren’t plain or covered in advertising display panels. It was all simulated wooden panels and potted plants beneath UV lights up here. They didn’t even need air-scrubbers due to the amount of foliage.

  As they turned out of the maintenance corridor and into the wide expansive hallway of the level itself, Harlan couldn’t help but draw a breath of wonder at the woodland-like scene before him. “This is new,” he said, taking in the thicket of real trees before him. A perimeter around the trees was filled with loamy soil. Moss creeped around the base of the trunks. “Looks like a woodland from Earth.”

  Irena pulled up beside him and gripped his arm. “There’s movement to the left.” Her breathing increased and her grip tightened.

  Harlan zoomed in on the area of movement and let out a sigh. “It’s fine. It’s just a philosopher.” A robed woman casually walked by the edge of the wood, stopping to sit on a bench facing the trees. Irena’s grip eased, and Harlan couldn’t help but sense that she was reliving the events she’d suffered on Earth. The timer on his overlay suggested they only had three minutes left. “This way; the airlock is down that hallway to the right. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  “Okay, lead the way.”

  Irena took one last glance toward the philosopher before jogging up to Harlan’s side.

  A further minute later and they had passed through a hallway that connected to various high-end retail outlets, all of which were shut, with notices suggesting it was under government advisement. That also explained the lack of people up here, Harlan thought.

  Turning left out of the shopping district, the level became more utilitarian. No more wood-effect panels, just the typical gray walls and rubberized floors. Conduits and tunnels were left uncovered overhead, leading to the airlock a few meters ahead.

  Before the door, however, were four pods that contained emergency space suits. EVA engineers usually wore these to carry out repairs or survey for any potential damage.

  Although these days they were rarely used, given the abbots now shouldered that particular burden.

  They needed no such suits to exist safely in the vacuum of space, and although it was never spoken aloud, from the humans’ point of view, the abbots were somewhat disposable. Even if they got damaged, they could always be fixed, their unique personality module uploaded to a new body unit.

  Despite many attempts by scientists, both human and abbot alike, the uploading or transferring of a human consciousness wasn’t an available option. The results were quite often horrific, both for the uploader and the uploaded. Perhaps that would come in time, but for now, humanity was bound to their meat-and-water-based bodies.

  Irena and Harlan reached the suit pods. Harlan punched the red emergency release button and entered his security code as the machine scanned his retina. He could only do this due to his access level as a silicon runner. Regular citizens didn’t have the appropriate level to use the suits: that was left to a handful of people on each level designated as SBERs: Space-Bound Emergency Responders.

  Irena reached into the pod then turned to face Harlan. “It’s empty… the suit’s been taken.”

  Harlan checked his pod. “Same here. Let’s try the other two.” He turned to the pods on the opposite wall and entered his credentials once more. “Damn it, mine’s empty.”

  “There’s one here,” Irena said, pulling out a wheeled container holding the suit. “What are we going to do? Bella’s going to be here any minute now.”

  “You take that one and board the Goat. I’ll go to the G4 airlock across the level and grab another suit. There’s got to be at least one more there. Bella will just have to make two stops.”

  “How long will that take you?”

  “Five minutes at the most. But don’t worry about me. Just focus on getting in that suit and on the shuttle. I’ll message Bella to explain the situation. She’s used to me not doing what she wants.”

  Before he left, Harlan helped Irena into the suit, opened the airlock door using his access credentials, and began the depressurizing process.

  Once completed, he connected to her suit’s wireless comm channel and explained how to open the outer door, although it wasn’t complicated: a large red handle on the right-side wall with the words ‘PULL TO OPEN’ emblazoned above it told her everything she needed to know. But still, he preferred to talk her through it, as he sensed her nervousness.

  Irena’s voice came to him via the speaker on the outside of the airlock door. “Harlan, be careful and be quick.”

  “I’ll be fine, trust me. I’ll see you shortly.”

  “I hope so.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile, turned, and set off at a fast jog towards the other airlock. On his way, he had Milo interface with his comm suite and sent Bella a message explaining the situation. The reply that came back was filled with expletives, but also a grudging acceptance and a warning that this was his last chance: if he wasn’t at the airlock in the next five minutes, they’d leave without him.

  Knowing Bella as he did, he knew that although she tolerated him because there were some feelings between the two, she wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind if he posed a risk to the possible rescue of her brother.

  Family was everything to her.

  Harlan envied her that--the family, the loyalty.

  The only person he had ever giv
en himself to, given his complete loyalty to, had ultimately betrayed him—Leanne. But even then, as he jogged through the abandoned level, through hallways and corridors, past the woodland, and onto the other side of the level, he wondered again about her involvement with Vanguard and whether she was truly acting on her own motivations, or whether she, like so many others, was a tool to be manipulated and used for their own ends.

  — You would prefer the latter, wouldn’t you, old chap? Milo asked, echoing Harlan’s thoughts.

  — Of course. Makes it more palatable if she left me for external reasons.

  — I suspect one way or another, you’ll know soon.

  29

  Bella double-checked the coordinates for airlock G3, entered them into the Goat’s surprisingly advanced computer system, and engaged the autopilot. For all the ship’s faults, not least the stench of meat, she had to give Sanjeet props for installing such a great software suite and maneuverable auxiliary thruster package. The Goat might have been small, but it was as agile a craft as she’d ever piloted.

  While the computer steered their way to the airlock to pick up Irena, Bella stepped through into the main hold. Her crew had busily tidied the area to make room for Harlan and Irena. With the six of them needing crash couches of sorts to deal with the two-g thrust over the next forty-eight hours, they had to get creative with the Goat’s layout.

  Benches ran along both sides, and webbing hung from the flanks of the hull. Bashir and Greta were busy storing weapons, ration packs, and other supplies to said webbing. Wilbur was testing the setup of straps he had created for the crew to use for when they were under thrust.

  Bella smiled at the efficiency of her ragtag crew. “Nice to see everyone on the same page and working together.”

  “Needs must,” Wilbur said as he finished installing the last of the straps. He tugged on it and made an adjustment before looking up at Bella. He shifted his glasses into position and smiled. “It’s not perfect, but we should be in at least some degree of comfort during the burn stages, despite the tight squeeze. Harlan and Irena will need to leave their suits in the airlock.”