by KH LeMoyne
Esme’s shouts to him from the top of the shaft kept him still. If she thought him wounded, she would come down. He couldn’t help her. He was beyond help himself, and he couldn’t risk her meeting the same fate. If he played dead, he might be able to convince her of the futility of any dangerous action.
The beam of light arced across his section of the shaft. From between his eyelashes, dust motes glittered in the white beam. Clay closed his eyes and struggled to keep his arms lax, his fingers splayed. With each second, he forced his cyber system to hibernation and shutdown. He didn’t need to worry about his legs. The piece of rebar penetrating the center of his chest had taken care of them.
Chapter 8
The halo bulb illuminated black splotches against the cream of Clay’s shirt, but Esme ignored the blood and searched inch by inch along his neck and face for any sign of breathing. Panic choking her lungs, she spun back to the blanket and fumbled with the sensor pad to find the orange shimmer distinguishing Clay’s warm, live body from the inert objects around him.
His head and shoulder registered in faint orange that, as she watched, threatened toward gray.
Think. Think. Think.
Her bots. Poised to launch for the run to the console room, she halted at the metallic groan sounding behind her. She whipped around, grasped the winch and the rope before it slid farther, forcing the door closed with her shoulder. With the rope wedged in the frame, she struggled to lock the door braces in place.
God, she didn’t want to leave him in the dark, but if the winch didn’t hold and pitched into the shaft, it would land right on Clay and the piece of rebar skewering him. Worse, it would just crush him beneath more debris. Ensuring that he encountered no shift, no jarring of his current position until she could get help was critical.
He was alive, barely. She could tell that much. The amount of blood was alarming, but if she had to guess, it had pierced his enhanced cyber components. That might give her more time to find a way to free him and bring him up. Unfortunately, his intricate circuitry interface with biology was beyond her expertise.
She refused to consider the alternative and ran. This was not happening to her. To him. She kept muttering the phrases in her mind. She’d finally found a man with a brain she could understand. One who she could work with. One with a sensual mouth, tempting hands, and a strong body she wanted to keep beside her. Damn it, no, this was not going to happen to either of them.
Her feet tingled as she reached the grating of the console room, but not from cold. Determination radiated enough body heat to make even the knee-length shirt she wore too warm.
She wrenched her mesh cyber interface onto her hand and initiated a console to watch Clay’s heat signature and monitor the dark recesses of his tomb as she worked. Her heart felt like it would explode. What rattled her confidence more than fear was how different this felt from her imprisonment in the detention tanks. Then she risked losing only her life. To lose Clay was harder, bleaker, and sickening in a way that threatened to rob her of focus.
Without a pouch or satchel to use for supplies, she slung Clay’s duster over her shoulders and stuffed a pocket with her bots and the hodgepodge wire and duct tape contraption. In another pocket, she crammed the portable med kit—pitifully short of supplies needed for his injuries—one laser torch and another halo bulb lamp. She glanced at the monitors as her hands brushed over the supply piles, delivering instantaneous decisions on additional items as she considered the next option.
The image on the screen now flickered slowly, orange to gray, orange to gray. The pulse of color, as shocking as the fading life sign the gray implied, also gave her a moment’s hope. Constant and consistent, something was regulating his body’s functions. However, even when she got him out—and she damn well would get him out—she didn’t have the skills to fix what had happened to him. Not in time to save him.
Her fingers flew across Clay’s circular keypad until, with a snort of disgust, she stopped and shoved back the long sleeves of his coat.
Not one reference to a medic code name. No reference to injuries, blood, or transport. Of course not. Clay wasn’t haphazard or careless. He would have swept each signature and every routing identifier from his system. All the virtual communication servers he had created for his communiqués were also gone.
Think. Think.
She pressed her fingers to her lips and spun to check the other screens.
Of course. Shepherd wouldn’t leave a trail, but that didn’t mean one of the many people he’d networked with had been as thorough. It wasted precious minutes to create the code sweep module. Followed by another minute to launch it and scavenge through every list, every code name, and every virtual router she’d put into place when Clay was ambushed in Down Below.
Ready to give up and head back to the basement level, she halted for two lines of text which glittered in response to her query.
Search ‘medic’ ‘blood’ ‘port’ ‘retrieve’
Roach: unknown blood type
Onyx: synthetic AG—off
The team for the new project wasn’t finalized yet. Even complete, Clay wouldn’t have shared it with her. Yet this code name, Onyx, one she’d witnessed over his shoulder before he’d set her ID restrictions, was the first on the roster. An individual known both to Clay and Vier and trusted enough to rank first place in the team. Someone who was familiar with the synthetic process mix the Regents used for quick clotting in lieu of verified blood typing, synthetic AG. She held her breath as she typed the distress call, making certain to send as a private message this time.
Karma: Onyx??—need backup
No response. A quick glance at the second screen confirmed the pulse of Clay’s orange and gray, but the timer she’d setup in the corner of the screen indicated a slight elongation of the pulse. He was fading.
Onyx: ?? Identify your ID
Karma: Shepherd
A long pause grew into a full minute.
Onyx: Try again
Yes. Poor response on her part, but she had keyed it in before she thought better of it.
Karma: Call 4 Shepherd When he didn’t respond, she typed again.
Karma: Radar, confirm status Karma
Radar: Status?
Karma: Confirm user Karma Please don’t let him throw her to the wind. He’d monitored the messages she’d sent to help Clay when he was in the marketplace and had helped. She’d seen his moniker in the active list. His notation followed on every transmission Clay sent.
Radar: Acknowledge designation Karma—link Shepherd—over
Onyx: This like last time?
Evidently, everyone had received her messages earlier. Well, now wasn’t the time for humiliation.
Karma: 1000X worse
The response from Onyx was immediate. No delay. Onyx might question her involvement and her protocol, but a threat seemed to instigate his waiving risk.
Onyx: Blood pressure / Conscious/ injuries
Hmm. She glanced back at the screen to equate the pulse into a blood pressure number.
Karma: 70 over 48 & dropping / unconscious / central wound
Onyx: Blood loss?
Karma: Yes
Onyx: Pickup?
Karma: No. Come.
Again a pause. Surely if Onyx was a long-trusted member of Shepherd’s teams, then he knew this place. She honestly didn’t think Clay would survive if she left to go meet the doctor at some arranged location. Well, she had another option. Not a good one.
Karma: Won’t leave. U talk me thru?
Onyx: Negative—Confirm Come.
Then nothing but dead space. She had no idea how long it would take him, but he’d relegated Clay’s injury to the critical level of an onsite visit, not risking details across the net. Thank God. She wasn’t about to second-guess the decision, instead taking the extra three seconds to clean the network path behind their discussion. No way was she leaving a security hole open like the one she’d unearthed to locate Onyx.
“Count
down—forty-seven hours thirty minutes.”
Pita, as Esme mentally referred to the main system’s regimented pain-in-the-ass voice-over, was getting on her nerves. Not enough to distract her from her current course. While she hoped she had synched up with a medic who Clay trusted, she still grabbed the laser gun on her way back to the lower level.
***
A small press of the widget against the wall initiated a soft whirring sound. Two seconds later, Esme knelt before the mobile vid screen she’d mounted on the wall in front of her. One tap of her finger split the views on the plasma screen into three virtual segments: one monitored Clay’s vital signs, another focused on his home’s exterior, and the final one contained the security panel.
She hadn’t set up any method to verify Onyx’s identity, much less let him in. The myriad loopholes in the arrangement should be twisting her into knots. Instead, her focus remained riveted on the command pad in her hands for the assembly of the ERDs, energy regulating devices. Small conductors, magnetic energy generators submerged in a microchip plasma and surrounded by the enhanced metals used in the kelp packaging. Luckily, an inexpensive and readily available combination of materials. The ERDs were spaced in a rectangular pattern on top of the blanket. Each one needed a coded signature to create a link to the next one. The combined circuit of ERDs required detailed instructions for Clay’s weight, settings for easement to keep him stable in the field, and detailed instructions for the distance and speed for his extraction. Fortunately, she had access to Clay’s pirated technological-command-codes library. If the situation weren’t so dire, she would have laughed at the entries. One of her own designs had somehow made its way in cyberspace and into his library.
She bit her lip and considered the final puzzle pieces. The trick was designing a fast fail-safe process for making certain the signal didn’t cut out as she brought him up.
Manipulating the laser to slice through the rebar under Clay using a separate ERD system from the one holding his body would be tricky. She had only so many hands, and the dexterity and finesse required didn’t lend itself well to voice commands.
“Access code initiated. Pending verification. Verification complete.”
Esme glanced up and frowned at the first virtual screen. The person causing the security system’s response had entered the facility. Which meant they had an access code or she’d accidently overridden some security protocol. She doubted the second option, but the security grid definitely displayed a presence in the main hallway. She’d expected to have enough time to see them coming.
“Shepherd?” The deep male voice emanated over the system circuits embedded throughout the facility. “Karma?”
Esme tapped a location number into the security grid. With one swipe, she directed the information from one side of her security screen over the icon representing the new presence. Her action relegated communication responsibility to the system. Better to let the system voice-over keep him off-track. She would have only a second to assess whether this was Onyx and salvation, or if she’d made a huge mistake.
“Shepherd location level C. Silo three.” Pita’s system monotone relayed the destination.
Laser gun clenched at her side, Esme waited for the stranger to appear at the far end of the hallway. Her finger shook over the activation sensor. She hadn’t killed before, but if this man made a wrong move, she wouldn’t hesitate. Returning to work afterward wouldn’t even give her a guilty conscience, and it would waste precious time she needed to save Clay.
From his halt as a he came into view and his long silence as his gaze took in the blanket, her laser, and the door behind her, she earmarked him as a smart and cautious man. Good, she didn’t need an imbecile to help her. Unfortunately, she could tell nothing of the large man’s character with his expression hidden behind a dark day’s growth of beard and intense brown eyes.
“Clay’s in the silo?”
She nodded. “Impaled on a piece of steel.”
“Because?”
“He was retrieving something for a…project.”
The man gave one terse nod and held out his hands. “You can scan me. I have equipment in my pack, but if you plan to maneuver Clay off whatever he’s impaled on, then we need to get moving.”
When she hesitated, he continued, “You called me for help, Karma. That’s why I’m here.”
The laser in her hand shook now, but she couldn’t afford a mistake. Even if this was Onyx, she needed more assurance. “What’s your connection to Clay?”
“Aside from what you suspect, since you seem have access to his system?” He paused, glancing at the three data screens she had activated and floating in the air above her shoulder. “Clay’s helping to rescue my stepson.”
“Code name?”
Onyx hesitated. “Wolf. I’ve also worked with Clay for years.”
She lowered the laser rifle. “If you can work the laser to cut the steel, I can get him out.”
His expression didn’t waver as he slowly shifted the pack from his back to one hand and advanced to crouch beside her. He released the strap holding the nylon pack and unrolled it. A series of mesh pockets lined the inside, filled with tools, vials, and packets of powder visible through the open weave. “Do you have a visual on the location of the wound and the steel’s width?”
She maneuvered a screen before him and selected a zoom display of the bottom of the shaft. To his credit, he winced only once and then proceeded to adjust the view from each angle. With a small device from his coat pocket, he transferred the wound’s exact location and measurements, then initiated an active stream of details on Clay’s vital stats.
“How will you remove the metal without him bleeding—” Not able to finish because she refused to voice the alternative to Clay surviving their efforts to free him, she flipped her fingers to prod him to answer. When instead he selected a small glass container of glittering gold mucus from his supplies, she frowned.
“They’re microscopic nanites adapted specifically for Clay. They’ll provide enough dispersed coagulation so I can work on suturing the major arteries affected without him bleeding out. We just need to bring him up carefully enough not to aggravate the point of entry and exit.” He glanced at her array and back at her face. “We need to ensure no jarring, no sudden drops.”
Secure in Onyx’s knowledge of what he was doing, if not totally reassured for Clay, Esme activated the final sequence to command the ERD to rise off the blanket. A grid of white lines appeared on the screen beside her. The energy wasn’t detectable by the human eye, though the low-level resonance produced a gentle thrum against her skin if she ran her hand through the field.
“Will it be strong enough?” Onyx didn’t sound dubious, although he didn’t hesitate to ask. That alone convinced her they stood a good chance of success. She moved the ERD circle to Onyx’s head. His quick intake of breath indicated he felt the energy pulse. She waited until the bots circled his waist before she altered their orientation, distributing them to form a globe around his body. Then she increased to full power.
“Hold your arms out from your side.” She didn’t give him time to respond but increased the force field to full power. His hands clenched, attempting to flail, but the energy field held him rigid as he rose with the ERD and bots into the air. A quick change of direction on her screen floated him down the hallway, finally settling him back on his feet in front of her.
A little shaken but resolute after she removed the ERD field, Onyx nodded to the screen. “I’m confident you can lift him out. How do we manipulate this field to cut him free, or do I need to rappel down to cut the steel?”
“No. That’s what got us into this mess.” She gestured to the smaller ERD setup on the blanket, avoiding details of how she and Clay hadn’t gotten to the point where he’d authorized her to build these tools. What the good medic didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “I have another field for whatever you’re going to use to cut the rod. I can provide you a window in the field to activate the
laser. You just need to have steady hands to manipulate the bots on the screen.”
“I’m a trained surgeon, Karma. I think I can handle a 3-D manipulation.” Still, he took a few minutes positioning his laser knife inside the second, smaller bot field and practiced in the hallway. It took him longer to force open the door.
Five long minutes later, Clay was encased in her ERD field, his body immobile as the doctor manipulated the laser beneath him. What should be a quick process took longer with both Esme and Onyx taking every precaution to keep Clay’s body shielded from the shifting of surrounding debris.
Esme maneuvered the horizontal gravity grid encasing Clay’s body as she monitored the circular stream of energy along the interior wall of the silo. She’d programmed the stream to shield the integrity of her signal. In theory, it would repel external signals from entering the silo and absorb stray signals within the silo. Not foolproof, but so far the stream delivered on its design. She brought Clay’s body up the hundred or so feet from his position without surprises or fatal repercussions.
She gave a quick glance at Onyx and refocused on her task. Without his brute strength, she never would have gotten the door open or cut Clay free. Esme issued the final sequence to release the security console’s shield on the silo wall so Clay’s body could move the last few feet horizontally into the hallway.
He hadn’t moved during the entire procedure. Only the long pause from orange to gray on his vital stats monitor confirmed he was still alive.
“Can you maneuver him to the console room? It would be better not to have to move him once we stabilize him.” Onyx shut the door and reached for the laser gun.
At his action, Esme hesitated in her struggle to get her frozen, stiff legs to move. Too preoccupied with retrieving Clay, she’d forgotten to safeguard her only weapon.
Seeing her hesitation, Onyx held the laser out to her. “I was only going to bring it with us. You have enough to carry. And…” He raised a brow at the split of her coat where a generous amount of thigh showed through. Pointedly he glanced away, reaching instead through the energy field to confirm Clay’s pulse. “You’re laden like a pack mule, and there are several tight turns to maneuver. I figured you’d want your hands free.”
