Garotte lost his grip, but before his arm was completely clear of the manipulator arm's gripper, it snapped shut around his wrist. The intention had been to gently clutch at his arm, but "gentle" has an entirely different meaning to a cargo loading arm. Thus, while it didn't quite pulverize the bone, it came awfully close. Garotte's forearm made an unpleasant creaking sound, and his scream of panic turned to a scream of pain. Now with no more fear of him falling, Ma retracted the arm more quickly before awkwardly banking the ship and angling it skyward. When the door sealed, the gripper released and Garotte tumbled to the floor. A moment later the inertial dampeners took the edge off of the acceleration and Silo managed to help him to a seat while he cradled his arm.
"Are you okay? How's your arm?" Silo asked with concern.
"I suppose it could be worse," Garotte replied. He attempted to wiggle his fingers, and to his great relief discovered that he was able to do so.
"Please secure yourselves, the experimental ship is set to detonate in twenty-three seconds," Ma began. Before she finished, a distant flash of light lit up the interior of the ship, followed by a thumping explosion that pitched the Armistice nearly sideways, spilling Ma off of the dash. The ship's autopilot corrected, allowing her to gather her pad, scramble back to the dash, and swipe out, "I apologize. It took some time to prepare that warning. Stand by while I set course, and please await oxygen levels to reach optimum values before removing your oxygen masks. Thank you."
With that, Ma turned back to the controls, leaving Silo and Garotte to slowly recover from their ordeal.
#
Shortly afterward, in Purcell's space station, the commander was in her quarters, sitting in darkness. This operation was going poorly, and until she received new information, there was little to do but consider the current operations and create contingency plans. That required deep thought, and she'd always found that she did her best thinking in isolation. When on a planet, she would seek out the wilderness. On a space station, her darkened quarters were the best she could manage.
A soft beep and a dim flicker from her datapad interrupted her contemplation. She tapped the screen to be greeted by the face of the perpetually nervous Crewman Marx.
"There is new information regarding the surveillance squad assigned to Millbrook," he said.
"Report. Have they neutralized the situation?"
"Negative. After they caused the communications blackout, we were unable to establish direct contact, as expected. However, the communication has just been restored, and we still have not received a report. The modified transponder we've been using to track the ship doesn't even seem to be transmitting."
"Then we must assume the ship was destroyed or captured," Purcell reasoned angrily.
"That is likely. Emergency band radio chatter from the prison following the restoration of communications indicates there was a massive explosion visible in the direction of the ship's last known trajectory along the surface. A pursuit ship found wreckage. The prison guards seem to have captured both of our internal agents as well."
Purcell released a hissing breath. "Any additional information?"
"... The prison officials also report recovering the remains of all eight members of the surveillance squad. Witnesses indicate that the squad was killed by the escaped inmate and her accomplice. The escapees were last seen piloting the squad's ship prior to its destruction."
"Were the targets still piloting the ship when it was destroyed?"
"The report from the prison officials states that their investigation of the wreckage is ongoing, but inconclusive. However, shortly before the detonation, the pursuit ship reported a sensor signature of an unidentified ship. It left monitored space shortly after leaving Manticore's atmosphere."
"... We have to assume that they escaped. Rally any field agents in the vicinity of the remaining surveillance teams as backup. And get a message to the assault team. Give them the strike order. I want that alloy, now..."
Chapter 17
In the meantime, things on Tessera had been considerably less exciting, at least as far as threat to life and limb were concerned. After a night spent almost entirely in bed but doing very little sleeping, Lex was given a VIP tour of the hurricane that was Michella's daily convention routine. He was introduced to at least two hundred people whose names he had already forgotten. Michella was reluctantly coaxed into sitting in on a panel about science coverage, though it rapidly became clear that as much as she excelled at investigation and communication, once academic matters dominated the conversation she became conspicuously quiet, absorbing information and nodding appreciatively. After that was a few hours of walking the floor, during which Lex became acutely aware of the disproportionate number of males among her devotees. He liked to think that he wasn't the jealous type. That said, any men foolish enough to ask him to snap a picture would later discover that Lex's finger had a strange tendency to sneak into the shot.
This was the first time Lex had been given such a close up look at celebrity from the outside, and he wasn't terribly pleased with the memories it was bringing back. Lex had loved being a celebrity. He'd loved everything about it. There were never any introductions when you were famous; people already knew your name. Granted, he'd never been hugely famous on a galactic level, but back on Golana he was top of the heap, and word had been getting around. Now, of the hundreds of people he'd met and shook hands with, only three actually remembered him and even then it was only for the coverage they had done on his downfall. He'd always known that the media had a short memory, but until now he had been able to fool himself that there were at least some people out there who remembered the pair of speed records he'd set, and the unmatched speed at which he'd ascended the hover sled rankings. This little experience had been the final nail in the coffin of that particular notion. More disturbing than his realization of just how far from fame he had fallen was the realization of just how much he missed it. The irony of the fact that his role in the Bypass Gemini Incident would be a surefire, albeit suicidal, route to galactic celebrity was not lost on him, either.
Following a few hours on the show floor, and with considerable nudging from Lex, Michella was finally able to convince herself that she had fulfilled her convention duties for the day. They excused themselves to the Pavilion, seeking out the nearest place to eat that wasn't completely overflowing with convention patrons. It turned out to be the juice bar outside the fitness center. Michella found a semi-private table while Lex fetched two glasses of juice composed of guava, kiwi, papaya, pomegranate, and at least three other fruits that, as far as he knew, existed exclusively in juice form. He also picked up a few pastries labeled "high energy, low calorie, health cookies," evidently invented by someone seeking to set the world record for most inherent contradictions in a single product.
"So, tomorrow you've got that keynote, then you're heading home, right?" Lex asked, handing Michella her paradoxical cookie and beverage.
"That's the plan," she said.
"I don't suppose you're open to hitching a ride with me in the trusty SOB?"
"Much as I'd love to spend a few days in a cramped cockpit, trying to figure out how to use that... receptacle without making a mess, washing with napkins, and eating food out of a tube –"
"Hey! This time it's granola bars."
"Oh, well, that changes everything."
"Come, on. It'd be fun."
"I've already got the reservations for the return flight, babe. Sorry."
"Yeah, yeah. You know, that excuse is only going to work so many times. Mark my words, you and I will take a long ride in the Son of Betsy one of these days."
"Sure we will, honey," she said, with the same tone of voice one might use to promise one's daughter a pony for her birthday. "Why are you so insistent?"
Lex took a long sip of his juice and listened to his conversation with Ma echo through his thoughts. "... Well, to be honest, there's been something on my mind lately. Things are busy here. Lots of distractions. I wa
s hoping we could talk a few things out without any phone calls or photo shoots or groupies."
"You wanted to talk?" she said in disbelief. Suddenly her eyes widened and she began to dig through her purse.
"Yeah. I mean, when's the last time we spent more than a day or two together?"
"Last month we... no, no I had that interview with the Prime Minister's attendant. But a couple of weeks before that we were supposed to do something, weren't we?"
"Yeah, but a delivery ran long and I was stuck on Earth's moon waiting for payment."
"That's right. Well, it can't have been too long before that," she said, before muttering, "Where is it?"
"Don't you think a couple shouldn't have to check their calendars to know when their last date was?"
"We've both been busy, that's all. Things will calm down."
"Will they?" he asked, staring intently at his cookie, rather than look her in the eye, "I mean, you've been doing great, and business is pretty steady for me, too. It seems like it is going to get worse before it gets better. Something's gotta give, right? Things can't keep going like they've been going. One of us is going to have to ... Michella?"
"Ah HA!" she proclaimed, looking up. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
"… Never mind. It's stupid. We'll talk about it later. What were you digging for, anyway... oh."
She triumphantly removed a small steno pad and a ballpoint pen.
"It's that time, is it?" Lex asked.
"That it is," she said, clicking out the pen's nib and flipping to a clean page.
Michella was a thoroughly modern girl in most ways, but when it came to matters she thought were really important, or extremely confidential, she always reverted to old fashioned pen and paper. It was actually something she had in common with Karter, who did all of his thinking on paper as well. Lex genuinely hoped it was the only thing that they had in common.
"So do you want to start? Or do you want the full interview experience?"
"I'll start, I guess..." he said, knowing all too well that there would be no shifting her back to the prior conversation. To be frank, he was rather relieved to be setting the subject of their relationship aside for now. Discussing relationship troubles didn't come easily to those with a Y chromosome. "Let's see... Well, remember Squee?"
"That fancy dog? Oh, Trevor, don't tell me you got that little cutie involved."
"As a matter of fact, she got me involved."
Michella scratched something down, then nodded for him to continue. "You said an old friend had dropped her off. Is he involved?"
"Yeah. Basically he... in a roundabout way, he sent her to get me."
"That requires a bit more explanation."
"... I'm kind of in a tough spot here."
"How so?"
"Because I know you won't settle for anything but the truth, but you also won't settle for anything but a plausible explanation, and I can't give you both."
"You don't think the truth is plausible?"
"Not to a sane person."
"Well, let's try the truth and see how sane I am."
"If you say so. Squee is a genetic experiment made by that mad scientist who helped me out with that little incident a few months ago. She has had her brain formatted as temporary storage for the scientist's AI. She – the AI, not Squee, though they are sort of the same thing at the moment – she came to get me to help her to spring a criminal, who also worked with the scientist, out of jail. That guy, who never told me his name, was going to get together a few other members of the scientist's old cronies and rescue him from the folks who took him. Oh, and they took him so they could have him build them a weapon that could nuke the power grid of a whole star system at once. And he'll probably do it, because he's an absolute sociopath."
Michella finished taking down the notes. She then looked over the words, as though searching for holes. "How did you help to free this criminal?"
"She got him on a transport ship, got me on that ship, and then caused it to fail. She had the SOB waiting at the transfer station it stopped at, unlocked his restraints, and much running resulted."
She nodded and took down the additional information.
"And do you have any further role in this?"
"I was supposed to, but they had me in a more overtly violent role than I'd felt comfortable playing."
Once she was through taking notes, she sucked her teeth and pursed her lips.
"I think you're right. I might be too sane for this story."
"Told you."
"Look at me," she said, placing her pen down on her book and leaning forward.
With a sigh, he leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers. As he stared into her gorgeous blue eyes, they peered back, studying and measuring.
"This is my favorite part of the whole lie detector routine, you know," Lex said.
Michella was one of those people who believed that all you ever needed to do to determine if someone was lying was give them a good hard look in the eye. Lex was of the opinion that this was a ridiculous old wives' tale and couldn't possibly be true. For the most part, he was right. A quick eye exam hadn't really been sufficient to get to the bottom of any of her major stories and investigations. It did, however, have an almost perfect success rate against Lex. So much so, in fact, that he seldom even tried to put one over on her anymore. Honesty was the best policy, but in his case he told the truth mostly because it was easier, and because lying only ever managed to get her to dig her teeth in, which seldom ended well. When her brow furrowed, he grinned and kissed her on the nose.
"You're telling the truth …"
"Yeah, I know. What a shocker, huh?"
She snatched her pen back up and scratched a few more lines.
"This scientist, is he in any danger?"
"I generally consider him to be the source of danger in any situation he's involved in."
"I'm being serious, Trevor."
"So am I."
"Are the authorities involved?"
"Probably. Though Ma says she's tried to keep them out so they won't try to lock up the scientist."
"Ma?"
"That's what he calls his AI system."
She flipped back through her notes, reading through them as though they'd been written by someone else.
"My God, Trevor, you helped a criminal escape," she whispered.
"Oh... that... It happened kind of fast. I'm not 100% sure I broke any laws... I ... might have been a hostage."
"Might have been!?"
"He was very charismatic."
"How did you help him get away?"
"By being Trevor Alexander," he said flatly, "Me plus the SOB equals a clean getaway."
"You still haven't explained the bandages."
"Yes I did, that was from deGrasse. The con needed to get dropped off there. It is a tough neighborhood. Drugs and such. They tried to rob me. A fight ensued. I won."
"What happened after that?"
"I dropped him off on Maxis, then I came here."
"And where did this criminal go after?"
"I don't really know, and frankly, I'm happier that way."
"How could I not have heard about this?" she asked, more to herself than Lex. She dug out her slidepad and brought up a few sites. "Yep, it is all right here. 'Escaped convict. No video footage. Highly skilled escape.' That's it. No more conventions. Too distracting. Is there any way that this is going to find its way back to you?"
"No, absolutely not. Ma was very careful about that. She picked a place with no surveillance and no monitoring. I don't even think they have a record of the SOB docking."
"You sure place an awful lot of faith in this computer program."
"You seemed to like her. You let her lick your ear," he remarked, leaning closer to add quietly "Usually you only let me do that."
"Trevor, this is serious,"she hissed, slamming the pen down.
"I know. I know that this was an unholy mess that I had no business being a part of.
That's why I bowed out. It is in more capable hands now."
"Why would you even involve yourself in the first place?"
"You haven't seen what this guy can do, Michella. He could be bad news in the wrong hands. I had to do something."
Michella was silent for a few seconds, glancing anxiously over her notes as she rested her elbows on the table and clutched at her fingers. It was clear that she was lost, her brain struggling to cope with the madness it was now being asked to process. She floundered for a firm mental footing for a moment and, finding none, reverted to her mental default. When in doubt, do what you do best. She picked up her pen once more, composed herself, and looked to Lex.
"Do you know anything about the kidnappers?"
"Not a whole lot. I only got a look at some low quality footage-"
"There is video? Can you get your hands on it?" she urged with blood-in-the-water focus.
"What? No. Ma had that stuff. And she's pretty busted up. I'm not sure she'd be able to send it now... though she did load the videos onto her slidepad before-"
"Can you have her send them to you? I'll need to speak to her as well, if possible. And I'll-"
"Michella, I'm out of this mess, remember? Because of how dangerous it was? Weren't you just worried about this finding its way back to me?"
"That was Michella the girlfriend worried about Trevor the boyfriend. Now that she has said her piece, it is Michella the reporter's turn to talk to Trevor the primary source, and she smells a story that might just beat what she's been working on lately. Now, if you know where-"
Lex reached across the table, took her hands in his, and looked her in the eyes.
"Listen. I can appreciate your professional curiosity, but this is too hot to touch. I mean, I wasn't willing to stick with it, and you and I both know that my tastes run a bit closer to the suicidal end of the spectrum than is really healthy. So let's just relax, enjoy these last few all expense paid days on this paradise of a planet, and let that scientist and the chaos and destruction that inevitably surrounds him stay far, far away, where they belong."
Michella opened her mouth to speak, but before she could make a sound, a vicious violet flash flooded the whole of the eatery with blinding light. Gasps and cries rang out as the others in the juice bar and gym rushed to the nearest window, where a faint halo of residual light could still be seen lingering high in the sky.
Unstable Prototypes Page 24
