Landfall (The Reach, Book 2)

by Mark R. Healy

  “Wait a minute,” Duran said. “Isn’t this what you guys want? You’re trying to overthrow the system.”

  “Not like this,” Zoe said. “This path leads to anarchy. If the Consortium feels threatened, it will pull out, and then the whole economy will fall apart. We all lose if that happens.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Duran said.

  Zoe exchanged a glance with de Villiers. “Change the system but don’t destroy it. Cut out the rotten heart of the Enforcers.”

  “I’m not following,” Duran said.

  Zoe gave him a pointed stare. “Kill Prazor.”

  Duran laughed, but then realised he was the only one who had found the comment amusing.

  “Wait a minute,” Duran scoffed, looking at each of them in turn. “Some punks smash a camera and now you want to go and assassinate one of the most powerful men on the planet? Are you insane?”

  “It’s not one smashed camera,” de Villiers said. “It’s one small crack in a much larger divide. Prazor is a cancer. He’s been spreading corruption from the top for years. He’s left a litany of cover-ups, lies, blackmail–”

  “You’d never get away with this,” Duran said. “You’d never get to him.”

  “No,” de Villiers agreed. “We wouldn’t. But you might.”

  Duran stared at him in disbelief. “What?” He looked accusingly at Zoe. She returned his stare, unflinching.

  “You heard him,” she said unsympathetically.

  “The barrel of my piece is still warm from dropping Tunks, and now you want me to head over and kill the Commissioner of the Enforcers?”

  “You think popping one fat lowlife gets you a free lunch around here?” de Villiers said. “That was nothing more than your entry ticket into this team. Now you have to do something to prove your worth.”

  “Like killing one of the most powerful men on the planet,” he said sarcastically.

  “Right,” de Villiers said.

  “What would that even achieve?” Duran said. “The Enforcers would just replace him with someone worse, more likely.”

  “No,” de Villiers said. “Superintendent Lang is the most likely successor. He’s a hard nut, uncompromising, but he’s fair. We believe he could right many of the wrongs that Prazor has done.”

  Duran glared at Zoe sullenly. “I get it now. I see what’s going on. You’ve been grooming me from the start. You’ve manipulated me the whole damn time, hoping to railroad me and make me agree to this suicide mission of yours–”

  “It doesn’t have to be suicide,” Zoe said.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Prazor wants to interview you,” de Villiers said. “He told everyone as much on that broadcast of his. They’ll take you right to him.”

  “Yeah, and then what?”

  “He’s an old man,” Zoe said. “You could easily overpower him. Once you do that, you only have to make it back to the elevators. Robson will bring you back to safety.”

  “No,” Duran said adamantly, not prepared to even entertain the thought. He felt used, cheated by these people who he had thought might have actually given a damn about him. He could see the truth now. They only saw him as a kamikaze pilot, an expendable pawn to be cast into the fire when they decided the time was right.

  “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

  He stormed from the room and began to head down the corridor, and Zoe chased after him.

  “Alec, wait!”

  “Like hell.”

  “No, listen, there’s more to this than–”

  He whirled back toward her. “Come with me.”

  She stared at him blankly. “What?”

  “Come with me, Zoe. Let’s leave together.”

  “What are you on about?”

  His voice dropped, low and earnest. “You and I have something here–”

  “We have something?” she said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it,” he said, gripping her shoulders intently. “I know you have.”

  She shrugged him away. “Alec, don’t–”

  “Tell me you haven’t felt it.”

  “Knock it off,” she said, obviously rankled. “Don’t look at me like that. We don’t have something. We don’t have anything.” She glared at him, disgusted. “God, you’re like a puppy I fed that won’t go away.”

  Duran reeled backward, her words like a dagger in his heart.

  “Screw you,” he said bitterly.

  “Did you really think because I jumped you once that we suddenly have some special bond between us? Grow up, Alec.”

  “Why are you pushing me away? Are you really that unfeeling? Or are you just trying to manipulate me again because I won’t do what you want?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in a line of work that has much scope for relationships. You should ask Jonz about that.”

  “Jonz?” Duran recalled the name from his discussion with Robson. “What does he have to do with this?”

  “He used to work for Scimitar. He was an operative like me, but he lost his way. He became greedy. In the end he was no better than the people we were hunting.”

  “And what happened to him?”

  “I put him down myself,” she said, her voice stony.

  “And that’s what you’re going to do to me the minute I walk out of here, right?”

  “The point is,” Zoe said impatiently, “what happened in the kitchen between us was a once-off. I guess it was something we both needed at the time, but now it’s over. I can’t go deeper than that with you.” She shook her head adamantly. “I won’t.”

  “Then I’m done here.” He turned and began to walk away again.

  “There’s a reason you need to go see Prazor,” Zoe called after him. He stopped but did not turn around. “There’s a reason it has to be you.”

  “Yeah,” Duran said sourly. “Because I’m the only one who can get to him.”

  “No,” Zoe said softly. “It’s because you need to ask him why he tried to destroy you.”

  Duran turned back to her, scowling. “Prazor didn’t do that.”

  “Keep believing that if you want to,” Zoe said. She stalked away without another word and marched into the room they’d just left. Duran stared after her, wondering what the hell she was playing at.

  A few moments later he grudgingly followed her.

  Robson was fiddling with something on his terminal as he entered the room. Zoe stood against the wall with her arms folded across her chest, and as Duran appeared she inclined her head toward the terminal.

  “There,” she said. “See for yourself.”

  “I got access to the communications that were flying around a few years back,” Robson said, bringing up several documents for Duran to see. “We know about what happened with you and Knile Oberend in the Atrium three years ago. The explosion.”

  “Yeah?” Duran said. “So what?”

  “What did they do to you, Alec?” Zoe said. “How did your superiors punish you?”

  “My superintendent ordered that I be demoted and sent out to duty in the slums.”

  “Wrong,” Robson said. “Your immediate superiors found no fault in your actions during that incident. Says so right here.”

  Robson pointed to the communication on the screen, a list of recommendations that had been sent to Prazor from Duran’s superior. It was all there in black and white.

  Duran’s eyes flicked rapidly from one document to the next.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  “They found that you followed the correct procedures, Alec,” Zoe said. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent the explosion, not by yourself. Your superiors advised Prazor that you had no case to answer.”

  “But Prazor wouldn’t have it,” Robson said. “He overruled them and ordered that you be demoted and cast out of the Reach.”

  “No,” Duran said, disbelieving. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “He did,” Zoe said.
“It says so right there. He went against the advice of those who investigated the incident.” She pushed off the wall and stepped closer to Duran. “Don’t you want to know the reason for that?”

  Duran could only shake his head. “I–”

  “Prazor wanted to punish you,” Zoe insisted. “He wanted to destroy you. If you’re not going to go and kill him, maybe you should at least go and find out why.”

  Duran stared at the words on the terminal, and the feeling of numbness that had crept over him moments before began to give way to anger. Anger both at the revelation about Prazor, and also at the fact that Zoe was right. She was still manipulating him, he was sure of that, but he couldn’t deny the truth.

  He did need to find out why.

  36

  The woman named Iris led Talia into a circular room with a low ceiling, its walls lined with terminal screens and consoles. For the last hour or more Iris had been showing Talia around the complex, advising her of the location of her sleeping quarters and bringing her up to speed on various protocols and procedures she would need to know for the duration of her stay. Iris was pleasant enough, if somewhat reserved, but Talia had found it difficult to pay attention to what she was saying.

  Her mind was on Knile and Roman and what they might be doing as they struggled across Link. There had been no call on her holophone yet, and that made Talia nervous. The longer it took for Knile to call, she figured, the more dire the news would be. In fact, Talia was now expecting the worst when Knile did eventually call.

  Roman’s dead, he would say. There was nothing we could do.

  She’d chided herself for such negative thinking, angry at losing faith so quickly, but she couldn’t help it. Not much in her life had gone right of late, and the pessimistic side of her told her that things were not about to change any time soon.

  “This is our nerve centre,” Iris was saying as they proceeded into the circular room. “We coordinate most of our operations from here.”

  Talia tried to snap herself out of her stupor. She needed to get hold of herself, concentrate. Shoving her hands in her jacket pocket, her fingers closed around cold metal and she realised that she still had the .22 Silvestri had given her in the tavern. She’d all but forgotten about it.

  Iris was looking at her strangely.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” She took her hands out of her pockets again. “Uh, what kind of operations are you talking about?” she said.

  “Could be anything. Data retrieval, acquiring resources, or rescuing captives, for example.”

  “What captives?”

  “Sometimes Skybreach runs afoul of the Enforcers,” Iris said. “We walk a thin line in some of our operations. We’d rather have our people here than in the hands of the Enforcers, so we take measures to free them again.”

  Emil appeared at Iris’ side and nodded politely to Talia.

  “Settling in okay, Talia?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Any word?” Emil said, genuine concern on his face.

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m sure it won’t take long. Knile is resourceful, as I’m sure you know.” Emil turned and gestured to a man seated at the nearest console. “I’m hoping Aksel can give us eyes in the Reach to keep track of Knile once he gets inside.”

  At the sound of his name, the man turned in his chair. He was a pale, timid-looking young fellow, barely out of his teens it would seem, with thick-rimmed spectacles balanced on his nose. He ran a hand through his messy, mousey-brown hair and bobbed his head at Talia in greeting.

  “I might be able to do that,” Aksel said. “I’ve never cut into the Infirmary’s systems before, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “You’re the hacker,” Talia said, remembering Emil’s words to Knile earlier. “The one who can get inside the Consortium’s systems.”

  “Yeah,” Aksel said, blushing modestly.

  “He’s the only one who’s ever done it,” Emil announced with pride in his voice. He grasped the young man’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Aksel is very much central to our plans. A very important cog in the machine.”

  “So what can you do with their system?” Talia said.

  “Minor operations,” Emil said before the young man could open his mouth. Aksel gave him a bashful look. “But he’s learning more and more all the time. Every day new information comes to hand and we chip away at the wall that’s holding us back. Very soon we’re going to break through entirely.”

  “And when that happens?”

  Emil spread his hands. “Then we’ll have the Consortium at our mercy. I should–”

  He stopped as Talia’s holophone sounded, and a moment later she snatched it from her pocket and answered the call.

  “Talia?”

  “Knile! Where are you?”

  “Looking up at the Reach. We’re almost there.”

  Emil leaned forward intently as he tried to hear what was being said.

  “What’s he saying?” Emil said, edging closer. He pointed to the console. “Put the phone in the dock so I can talk to him as well.”

  “Hang on a sec, Knile,” Talia said. She placed the holophone in the aperture in the desk as Emil had instructed, and a crackling sound came through the speaker on the console. “Can you still hear me?”

  “Yeah. Loud and clear,” came Knile’s voice. It echoed around the room with enough volume to catch the attention of everyone therein. All other activity promptly stopped.

  “What happened with Silvestri?” Talia said. “Did he come through for us?”

  “It looks like it. I’m carrying a badge that’s certified by the Consortium itself. It should open all the doors right up to the Infirmary.”

  “What?” Talia said, confused and delighted at the same time. “How did he get that?”

  “Silvestri’s secret contact was a Redman. Can you believe that?”

  Emil glanced at Talia, disbelieving.

  “Knile, it’s Emil. How is that possible? A Redman, you say?”

  “A fallen Redman. He was cast out of the order and he’s in exile here in Link. Seems like he kept a few souvenirs from his time working for the Crimson Shield.”

  “Why did he give you the badge, Knile?” Emil said intently.

  “The Redman needed something delivered to a patient in the Infirmary. Couldn’t do it himself because he was forbidden to return there. Something like that.”

  “Fascinating,” Emil said with wonder in his voice. “How many–”

  “Knile, is Roman okay?” Talia interrupted. She shot Emil an apologetic glance and he nodded forgivingly.

  “He’s not great. Passed out a while back. He’s breathing, at least.” There was a grunt, then a loud scratching noise reverberated through the speaker. “He’s getting damn heavy, but the Reach isn’t far away. I’ll make it.”

  “We’re going to try to get some eyes on you once you’re inside, Knile,” Emil said. “Can you call us again once you reach the Infirmary? We might be able to offer you some help.”

  “Can your hacker do that?”

  “He believes so,” Emil said.

  “Can I speak to him?”

  Emil looked at Aksel, then gestured to the console with a nod of his head.

  “Uh, this is Aksel,” the young man said hesitantly.

  “Is there any chance you can take a look around in there and let me know what I’m in for? The Consortium Infirmary is one level I’ve never been to.”

  “Okay. I’ll uh, see what I can do.”

  “Or better still, if you can give me access into the Consortium systems I could play around with it myself.”

  Aksel looked doubtfully at Emil.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can,” Aksel said.

  “Why not?”

  Emil held up a hand, indicating to Aksel that he would provide the answer.

  “Knile, he can’t do that because the Consortium systems are incredibly delicate. From what Aksel has told me, there’s
security all over the place. One misstep and they could shut us down entirely, lock us out. Aksel has been tiptoeing around in there for a while and he knows what he’s doing, but we can’t risk having someone inexperienced with the system going in and blundering around there, tripping alarms.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I understand. I see your point.”

  “Knile, I’m curious about this Redman,” Emil went on. “Can you tell me more–”

  “Sorry, Emil, I have to go. I’m at the gates.”

  “Of course.”

  “Talia?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Are you okay?” Knile sounded as though he were out of breath, struggling.

  “I’m fine. All good.”

  “Okay. Wait for my call. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “I will.”

  “Good luck, Knile,” Emil said.

  Then the phone beeped and the connection went dead. Talia plucked it out of the console and cradled it against her chest protectively, as if it were some kind of talisman.

  Once again she could do nothing but wait.

  37

  The afternoon sun beat down like a hammer on those standing in line, pummelling them against the anvil of the asphalt beneath. The shadow of the Reach, as huge as it was, offered no respite, slanting off to the east in the opposite direction to the gates. There was no choice for those who were waiting but to bear the full brunt of the merciless heat.

  Knile was sweating profusely by the time he reached the back of the line. He strained to keep a grip on Roman, who had become a lead weight in his arms. He did not stop to wait his turn at the end of the queue, instead shouldering his way through the line toward the front as he offered mumbled apologies. Several of those in front raised their voices angrily, irate at the intrusion, but upon spotting the inert form of the boy they went quiet again. Before long the line began to part of its own accord as those waiting to enter the Reach became aware of what was going on, and with the entry line short at this time of day, it did not take him long to make it to the front.

  Sad, silent faces watched Roman as Knile carried him through the throng. Distantly, Knile felt a modicum of his faith in humanity restored at their empathy.