“Pick it up,” he indicated the pin on the desk, then looked at Giselle. “No chance of convincing you? You must want something.”
“Cygni will have to do it for both of us,” she said.
Dorsky shrugged. “All of this, needless to say, is top secret information. I hope you understand there would be consequences for disclosure.”
“I understand.” Giselle met his gaze without the least hint of being intimidated.
He nodded.
Cygni moved to the desk and picked up the pin.
Premier Dorsky smiled at her. “Welcome to the Umbrals. You’ll need some implants to go with your new position. Thuban, show Miss Aragón to the machine.”
He nodded, turning towards the door. “This way.”
They both took a step towards the exit, and the doors exploded inward with a thunderous crash. She felt something strike her body, and then she was flying backwards through the air. The reinforced window brought her to a halt when it slammed into her back and knocked the air from her lungs. She crumbled to the ground beside Dorsky’s desk, gasping for breath while staring at the carpet fibers below her. Something was wrong. It hurt when she breathed, and she seemed to be at an angle—not quite face down, but not quite on her side either. She could barely hear over the ringing in her ears, but a series of staccato bursts like crackling rain penetrated the din and filled her with dread. She tried to move and screamed as agony exploded through her. Looking down, she saw why.
A half-meter long shard of wood, as thick as three of her fingers together, protruded from just below her left breast. She blinked, not quite believing she was staring at it. Part of her mind told her to be still, but a much larger part just wanted the huge splinter out of her right now. Almost of its own accord her left hand reached down and grasped the end of the wood. She tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, and found she could do little more than gasp. She blinked, confused, and queried her implant for a self-evaluation.
WARNING: LEFT LUNG PUNCTURED. CONTACTING PARAMEDICS… ERROR: UNABLE TO CONNECT TO NETWORK, scrolled across her vision.
“Fuck,” she whispered, then gasped again. Something hit her side, forcing her onto her back. The splinter pressed against the ground behind her and rose out of her body in a bloom of blood that welled up from the wound and spilled down her ribs. She looked up with wide eyes at the blue armor of the Premier’s personal guard standing over her. The man’s helmet was off, and he stared down at her with malice in his dark eyes. He aimed his pistol at her sending a jolt of fear through her aching chest. To her surprise she didn’t focus on the dark barrel aimed at her head, but the spiny-vine style tattoos covering his face.
Oh no. Her heart sank.
The man sneered and tensed. She closed her eyes, expecting to hear the rapport of the gun, but instead heard a croaking sound and a thud. When she opened her eyes he was down on one knee beside her clutching his chest and fighting for breath. A moment later he collapsed. She blinked, still not quite sure what was going on until Giselle walked into view, rage twisting her face as she stared at the man. Cygni watched him twitch several times and fall still. Giselle looked at her, and the anger drained from her face.
“Fuck,” she mouthed out, or maybe she spoke, but Cygni just couldn’t hear her over the ringing in her ears. “Don’t move,” she transmitted directly to her implant. “The network is down. They must have taken it out right before the attack. We can’t call for help.”
Her eyes widened. The lights, she saw, were out as well. The room was lit solely by the daylight streaming in through the windows. Lalande, what have you done?
“Don’t move.” Giselle flipped the dead Gaian over with both hands. It seemed difficult for her as she had trouble moving him in his armor. Once he was on his back she ran her hand around his belt, pulled a cylinder, looked at it, and cursed. She held up a finger, then hurried around to the other side of the desk. Cygni followed her with her eyes as she passed Thuban. He lay on the ground face up, his neck and face pockmarked with bloody craters. Strangely, his clothing seemed to be turning silver and melting off his body like metallic syrup.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered. The ringing in her ears faded as her audio implants finished rebooting and compensated for the overload. She looked at him, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. Thuban’s head was canted to the side, his red-brown eyes open and staring at her. “Is he dead?”
“Don’t try to talk.” The sound of Dorsky’s voice drew her attention. He crouched behind the desk with a small pistol in his hand. It wasn’t bulky like a gauss gun, so she assumed it must be a low-capacity laser weapon. He stared at her with wide eyes—no, she realized, it wasn’t her they were fixed on, it was the shard of wood protruding from her chest.
Blood continued to well up out of the wound, seeping across her abdomen with every shallow breath she took. Her UI blinked, and another message scrolled across her vision in amber letters.
WARNING: SERIOUS LOSS OF BLOOD PRESSURE DETECTED… ERROR: UNABLE TO CONNECT TO NETWORK. SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY.
Giselle came back to her looking pale. She grasped her short, white-blond hair with one hand, leaving streaks of blood and char behind. “I can’t find any nanomeds.”
“We have to get out of here.” Dorsky rose to his feet. His eyes looked down at Thuban. “Damn. He was my best.”
“I’m not leaving Cygni,” Giselle said. “Can you call for medical help?”
“No, the Cyberweb is down across the island, but the backup power generators should kick back in any moment now. I’m a little surprised they haven’t,” he responded.
“They won’t because they destroyed the backups. Is there a radio…” Giselle was saying when Cygni’s hearing and eyesight failed at the same time.
WARNING: CATASTROPHIC DROP IN BLOOD PRESSURE DETECTED. CONTACTING MEDICAL PERSONNEL… ERROR: CANNOT CONNECT TO NETWORK—
Chapter Twenty-One
New Harbidum, Zov
Quarantined VoQuana World
41:4:3 (J2400:3248)
“With the number of times they’ve said the record servers are down for maintenance I’m surprised the government here can keep track of anything at all,” Nero said as he and Sorina shivered in the crackling rain.
“It is an obvious ploy to limit our access to them.” She looked down the brick street. “They are on to our investigation.”
He ran his hand over his hair and felt the water sluice onto the back of his long coat. “Concerning the breech or Faen?”
“I do not think they know we are searching for your friend. We must be careful moving forward.” She looked across the narrow road at the plain, black door in the alcove of a two-story building. It was late, and few beings were on the sidewalks of the city except for those frequenting small, social hideaways.
“She has been in there a while,” she said after a long pause.
I believe these things take time, Prospero said.
“She can handle herself,” Nero added.
“That was not my point. I was wondering if it meant she found something.”
“Oh, sorry.”
We’ll know soon, Prospero said.
“Have you thought about what you will ask when you find him?”
“Kaeden, you mean?”
Her ears twitched.
“I have a lot of questions about my past, but as to what I’ll say when we first meet? No idea. I’m sort of hoping that takes care of itself, I guess.”
She looked at him, her amber eyes seemed to glow in the dim streetlights. “I am sure it will be fine.”
His coat was waterproof, but it didn’t stop the rain from sapping body heat through his head and hands. He had to fight to prevent his teeth from chattering.
Two female VoQuana appeared out of the wet dark holding hands. The pair stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk when they spotted him and Sorina, and moved off the other way.
We’re really not very popular here. That’s the 31st and 32nd VoQuana or
Isinari to consciously avoid us, Prospero commented.
“Daedalus is keeping them here against their will.” Nero shivered. “I didn’t expect a warm reception.”
The door across the street swung open. An Isinari with white skin, a moderate head-crest, and glowing-red, fractal tattoos covering niur body walked across the street towards them. The bare skin darkened, and niur features shifted like animated clay into those of Athame in her Abyssian uniform as she approached.
“You shouldn’t do that in plain sight. The point of having you go in disguise is so that the locals don’t know you’re an Abyssian,” he said.
“Noted. The beings in this establishment claimed not to know Kaeden Faen, however, unlike the previous 39, I observed a 0.72-percent spike in blood pressure of both the bartender and the human juvenile inside.”
“Human juvenile?” he asked.
“Correct. A child of about ten Earth-years. Linking.” An image from Athame’s memory loaded into his mind. The child was male, had copper-red curls, and deep blue eyes. Freckles covered his round cheeks, and he was eying Athame in a suspicious way.
“What did you say?” Nero asked.
“I described Kaeden Faen to the bartender. The boy seemed to take note.”
“Interesting. What about the bartender? You said he also reacted.”
Sorina touched his arm. “Look.”
He angled his head to see around Athame. The boy stood in the open doorway across the street. His fists clenched at his sides by the slits of his skirt as he squinted through the rain. Nero could see he was tense by the way he reached up for the hood of the cloak clasped about his shoulders.
He’s gonna bolt, Prospero noted. Be ready.
Don’t lose him, Nero sent to his companions. I think he’s our lead.
“Confirmed,” Athame transmitted.
Sorina nodded.
The motion seemed to set the boy off. Abandoning the hood, he sprinted off down the street. They took off after him, splashing in the rain. The kid bolted around corners and skidded through puddles like he was born to it, leaving Nero and the others to try and catch up.
You aren’t going to last long like this, Prospero reminded him as they struggled to keep up in the warren-like streets. Remember, endurance isn’t your strong point.
He wanted to object but he knew he couldn’t. After several minutes of chasing the kid he was already panting with burning legs.
Athame, cut him off, he transmitted.
“Acknowledged.” Her robotic body sprinted ahead, but as she came within grabbing distance the kid ducked down, kicked one leg out and pushed off the ground with the other, cutting down a narrow side-alley that Nero didn’t even realize was there. Athame managed to arrest her forward momentum by grabbing the edge of the wall, and used it to launch herself after him.
Nero came to a halt and bent down clutching his knees while he fought to pump enough air into his lungs. He heard Sorina jog up beside him.
“Are you all right?” she asked, panting.
He nodded, staring down the narrow alleyway. It looked like there was some kind of square or courtyard on the other side. The kid was almost to it when Athame leapt over him, twisted in the air, and landed at the end of the passage. Unable to stop, the kid plowed into her waiting arms.
Nero felt Sorina’s hand on his shoulder.
“I’m okay,” he said, panting.
“She got him.” Sorina was breathing hard but otherwise seemed unaffected by the brief pursuit.
Yup, that’s right. She’s in better shape. I’m hoping that inspires you, Prospero said.
Shut up, he thought, watching as Athame carried the wriggling boy toward them. His tinny screams reverberated off the buildings.
“Target acquired,” Athame said. The kid was trying to box her ears to no effect.
“Help!”
“Hey, kid, relax. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Nero said.
The kid stared at him for a moment, then thrust his hand forward and jabbed him in the eye. The attack was followed by a kick to his throat, and he fell back, coughing with a hand over his face.
“What the fuck kid? We just want to talk to you!”
“Help! I’m being kidnapped!” the kid screamed and tried to get Athame to drop him by jabbing at her throat and nose.
“We are looking for Kaeden Faen, Captain of the Katozi Slynn,” Sorina said.
The kid paused his assault, staring at her with widening eyes.
“Do you know him? We need to talk to him.” Her ears twitched.
“I have detected a spike in anxiety,” Athame said. “I find it probable this juvenile does know Captain Faen.”
“We’re friends. Look, if you know him, tell him Nero Graves is alive and looking for him. That’s all we want, all right? We’re staying at the Queen Hotel. Okay?” he said between coughs.
The kid’s face went from one of surprise and fear to one of concentration. “You’re the Nero Graves that fought with my dad?”
He blinked. “Your dad? You’re Kaeden’s son?”
The kid pressed his lips together and gave a single nod.
“What’s your name?”
The kid hesitated, then looked over his shoulder.
“Nero,” Sorina said, drawing his attention. At either side of the street the VoQuana were assembling. Each carried the rod of the Maskhim on a metal cord around their waists.
“Put him down.”
Athame lowered the kid to the pavement. He went to bolt down the alley again but froze. Nero looked and saw more Maskhim at its exit.
“Kid, stay close to us. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we can get you out of here.”
He hoped it was true. He wasn’t about to let Kaeden’s son come to harm.
“The Annihilator is under attack,” Athame transmitted to him. “The battle stations are opening fire on it.”
A shudder went down his back. What happened?
I think they just figured out we know about the breech, Prospero said. The Akanda is detecting someone trying to gain access through a cyber-attack. I am countering.
He reached down and unbuckled the strap on his holster. “Be ready.”
Sorina nodded, her hand went to her sidearm.
The Maskhim touched their weapons in unison.
He felt his arm twitch. Protect the boy.
“Acknowledged,” Athame transmitted back.
The attack came without so much as a twitch from the VoQuana surrounding them. He felt his equilibrium shift. The street seemed to buck up under his legs and throw him off balance. Colors flashed in his vision a moment before the Maskhim drew their weapons and opened fire.
Combat mode initiated, Prospero said, dropping everything into slow motion. Nero heard himself shout in pain as the laser weapons burned through his coat and seared the flesh beneath. He drew his sidearm and returned fire. A low-pitched boom accompanied each pull of the trigger. The burst of supersonic rounds sent the Maskhim ahead of him tumbling back off their feet like leaves in the wind.
He spun around and saw Sorina dive to the side, firing down the alley to force the Maskhim to take cover. Her uniform lit up from several laser-hits as they retreated. He pumped his legs, moving between her and the second group of Maskhim. Firing on full-auto, he sent them skittering to doorways and side-streets.
Prospero, we need a plan.
I know that. I am unable to call the Akanda due to the cyber-attack on her systems. I’m barely keeping up with the attacker, who I calculate must be Praetor Login.
Fuck, he thought, crouching behind the corner of the alley. It left him exposed on one side, but at least the other group of Maskhim no longer had a clear shot. It was obvious they’d be burnt corpses if they didn’t find a way out soon.
Athame crouched with her arms wrapped around the boy, protecting as much of his body as she could; her back smoldered from laser hits. The kid had his eyes screwed shut and held his ears with his hands. Sorina was beside them with her bod
y pressed up against the alley wall as she lay down suppressive fire. If they were going to get out of here they needed drastic action.
He dropped out of combat mode and time resumed its normal pace. “You’ve got that virus still, right?”
“Yes,” she responded between bursts. Her gun clicked empty and she ducked behind Athame to reload.
“Release it into the local Cyberweb,” he said, trying to cover her. A handful of Maskhim lay dead at the mouth of the alleyway. It made a tempting target to rush, but there was no telling how many might be in the open square beyond.
“We only get one chance at it.” She finished sliding a new magazine into her weapon. Her ears danced in the air, and she resumed her suppressive fire from behind Athame.
“We need air cover,” he shouted back as his weapon emptied. “Cover me.”
He moved to the street-end of the alley and knelt down as he reloaded. When the first Maskhim appeared at the corner he reached up, grabbed his weapon arm, and yanked the VoQuana to the ground. Nero smashed the dome of his head with his elbow and felt the skull collapse.
The second Maskhim was smarter, possibly having seen what happened to the first through their collective consciousness. He moved up on the alleyway without using the wall for cover, but the moment the side of his head became visible Sorina put a bullet through his eye. His body twitched and fell into the street.
“Done,” she said a moment later.
The cyber-attack has ceased, Prospero reported. Piloting the ship over. We have to move quickly before the battle stations come back online.
Nero held his weapon pointed at the entrance to the alley. Behind him, he noted Sorina covering the exit into the square.
“What’s going on?” he asked when he realized the Maskhim’s attack stopped.
“The logical conclusion is that the attack on us was being orchestrated by Login,” Athame said. “The virus attacking him must be giving them some pause. I predict a high probability that this pause will not last. Permission to engage the enemy.”
“What about the kid?” he asked.
“Please take him.”
He hesitated, but decided to trust her. “Done. Permission granted.”
Eye of the Abyss: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 3 Page 34
