While Ferris would oversee the whole operation and intervene, he would leave the action to the computers that had been tasked with taking down all defences, construction yards and shield generators whilst leaving the research and development block unharmed. The computer had instructions to ring-fence that area and fly in the Medusa to drop off its cargo.
Medusa carried the Fortress’ latest weapon on-board, warriorbots, cloaked and undetectable to everything that Ferris’ scientists threw at them. They were going to be a real surprise visitor to Space Island. He had been keeping them ultra secret and the plans hadn't even been kept on the mainframe. Only in the last few days had they been incorporated into the battle computers programming.
The computer ‘dinged,’ it had something to say.
“Computer, proceed,” Ferris commanded.
“Report suspect intrusions detected: Two incidents unaccounted, 42 days, 31 days.”
“Computer, provide the point of origin; provide origin of data breaches,” Ferris ordered.
“Origin of intrusions: Location undetermined - data core breach indeterminate,” the computer responded.
Damn! Thought Ferris, how could someone not be traceable? His data-net credentials allowed him to track every single access point on the planet, he practically owned the data-net There must be an error, but there was no point in getting the computer to re-check the details, if it had made an error it would only repeat it and come up with the same result.
“Computer, length of time accessing data core on previously requested intrusions?”
“Working.”
‘ding’
“Computer, proceed.”
“Time accessed 42 days: 2 minutes 23 seconds. Time accessed 31 days: 1 minute 44 seconds.”
“Computer, file report: Ferris one zero four two. Collate all, append.” He would look at it later, something was missing. Maybe he would be able to find it himself. His analytical mind was usually able to determine any kind of anomaly in the logical world of the computer. The answer would be there, he just needed to ask the right question.
“Report filed.”
There wasn't anything more Ferris could do at the moment, so he turned back to the operations board. The Fleet was still over an hour from target. He needed an alternative plan for taking out the Grav-Port
Medusa followed the internal instrumentation built into its systems and calculated they were within fifteen minutes of the island. It should be on visual now, but there was no sign of it. Unperturbed the AI switched to a satellite location co-ordinates confirming it was on time and on target. The enemy must be using a camouflage shield hoping to confuse the attacking force. This had been anticipated; the AI overlaid the satellite images of the island on its display and the immediate result was a 3D rendition of the island exactly where it was supposed to be.
Medusa then switched all defences to active and primed the on-board NRG’s. Noting the surveillance drones patrolling the island’s perimeters, its operation rules classified them as targets. The gunships spread out into attack formation. It gave the command to neutralise the drones which doubled up as a means of zeroing the gunships’ sights. As each drone was eliminated, the icons on the screen winked out.
The enemy would know they were coming, but that wasn't a cause for concern; they had superiority in the air and were virtually impregnable. It had clear instructions to remove all airborne threats, and so followed them.
Reaching the outer area around the island’s cloaked shield the Medusa AI checked the drone warriors: Two teams, four to a team ‘A’ and ‘B’, ready to deploy.
In the cargo section, eight strangely designed contrivances stood looking much like metal stick insects with what first appeared to be welded metal blocks for body and heads. Closer inspection showed them to be well designed and efficiently organised.
The arm and leg sections were formed of angular and twisted steel which despite being slim and modular in design, appeared to flow naturally into joints, able to traverse a full three hundred and sixty degrees. The legs ended in a set of six angular toes with some form of soft composite sheaths over the ends, presumably to improve grip as well as reduce contact sounds on hard surfaces.
Similar to the legs, they sported two arms ending in hand-like claws. These were designed to be double-jointed enabling the individual claws to flex into any position to hold objects of any kind. Some of the Warriors hefted large calibre NRG’s, wasted on shielded humans, of course, but these were designed to damage local infrastructure. The others carried a new disabling device. A sonic burst gun which would disorient a person, which because it wasn't life threatening wouldn't activate the shields defence.
The Medusa broke away from the five gunships that encircled her and dived until the proximity to the ocean below caused massive ripples to be sucked up into the wake of the ship as its speed and drag pulled everything behind it. At the last minute, it used its anti-grav as a brake and pulled up close to the Space Island’s shield.
The Warriors prepared to disembark. They required no water-craft or sleds, their built-in A-Grav and thrusters would transport them wherever they wanted to go and the agility and versatility acquired by this integration meant they were able to react quickly to on-ground or in-air exposure with full integrated combat manoeuvres.
Deploying the first team through a set of drop down doors, the Medusa immediately ran a coded program through the transmitter in its bow. It was rewarded with a nullified hole appearing at sea level in front of its position large enough for a small man-sized team to slip through. It would not even register on the enemy sensors as it was coded into the software stolen from the Fortress months ago. A single line of code injected into the camouflage shield software provided for a tiny amount of differential to occur at the point that shield met water.
That enabled the shield to be weakened at that point, and anything with enough force to push through would get past the shield defence. Ferris had always created the technology with back doors that left him with control, and in this single, important instance it had proven itself.
Back in the Fortress, Ferris observed the successful hacking of the shield and from where he was, directed the warriors from his own console. He wanted no errors and would not trust this aspect to the AI This was the real mission; the gunships and invasion were a ploy to gain access to the Space Island complex and insert the warrior bots. He would now have his revenge on Garner and take what was his.
- 12 -
Below, in the foundations of the Fortress, Baxter’s teams were pulling themselves out of the freezing water. Their luck had held out thus far. They now squatted at the edge of the torrent without the benefit of light, using only their Night Vision Visor, NVV to scout visually for any alarms. The men moved alternately to the nearest exit ready to begin their ascent.
Baxter held back and looked at the internal 3D plan overlaid on the inside of his visor. With the one eye closed, he looked at the route they had set in prior to leaving Space Island. It showed as a thin gold line on the map that was displayed providing limited data in a hostile environment.
With the route set in his mind, he tapped the side of his helmet. He checked his visor showed the golden direction indicators in the bottom corner, leaving his vision clear of obstructions.
Indicating to the teams to move forward in pairs, they moved lightly on their rubber soled boots making no sound. To ‘old hands’ like these habits tended to be ingrained. They would keep you alive when all else failed around you.
As they moved up a level at a time, they came across very few workers. There was little down here except storage and empty rooms built for expansion. None of the workers detected them, and the teams slipped past and up to the next level. They saw cameras positioned in corridors that seemingly ignored them, and they soon arrived at the secure levels.
Baxter left the four men of the beta team to gain access to the laboratories while he led alpha team up to the next level. The indicator on his visor told him ther
e was a left turn ahead. It didn’t tell him there were two guards standing there blocking access to the safe room.
He raised his arm, signalling the others to a halt, then indicated right to get someone to move up level with him on the right side of the corridor in a position to take down both targets at the same time.
Pulling out the same little box they had used to great effect in the initial briefing room, Baxter set the output to maximum width and prepared, on the count of three, to slide it across the thirty feet between them. He would need to be accurate. The range only worked up to three metres, after that it was hit and miss in terms of whether the shields would disarm, or not. He didn’t recognise the weapons the guards were holding so wouldn't take his men closer if it meant putting them in the direct line of fire. He had been criticised over this approach by his superiors, but with his long experience he preferred to play it safe with the lives of his men.
The nullifier slewed across the even surface of the floor. As it left the protection of the shielded zone where it had been harmonised with Baxter’s cloak, it appeared as if by magic, sliding towards the guards, who reacted by turning their weapons on the tiny box. Shooting at it without having had time to aim they missed, and as the nullifier reached them it was already too late.
Baxter and his men, who had already fielded their weapons, aiming directly at the guards didn’t miss as both men fell to the ground, stunned. Dicks and Felpham both leaped forward from the rear, straps and mouth gags at the ready. There would be no bloodshed unless the Fortress people started it. Then it would be a quick switch to lethal weapons.
As they came up to the room housing the main computer, a klaxon alarm went off, startling the men standing beneath one of the speakers. Either the guards had somehow set off the alarm, or more likely a security monitor had reported the incident which meant they would have a lot of company very soon.
The doors were keyed to bio-signatures, so there was no way they were going to get in by conventional means. Baxter took out the ceramic flask, and while the others covered the small cul-de-sac they had fortified with their shields overlapping so that nothing could get through, they waited.
Carefully, as Osbourne had instructed him, Baxter poured a small quantity of the grey sludge around the top of the door-line and some more in the control area to the left of the door at hand height. He replaced the ceramic stopper then stood well back from the door while he watched for any activity.
One minute passed. He heard the sounds of weapons being discharged, and turning to look he was surprised when one of his men fell to the ground motionless. He was shielded and still cloaked, yet somehow he had been hit with something. He was either dead, or unconscious. Baxter looked back anxiously at the doorway while his men pulled the man out of the firing range. They would check him out. He needed to concentrate on what was going on with the doorway. He watched, nothing seemed to be happening. Then, at one minute thirty seconds, it was as if watching a slow motion movie, the charcoal grey line where he had poured the contents became uneven as it slowly spread like a stain, eating its way through the clean steel composite like a fast spreading rust. It took only a few minutes before Baxter could see through the door frame into the room beyond.
He looked at his watch. Two minutes and forty seconds. The grey sludge he had exposed to the material had eaten through it until there was virtually nothing remaining except a pile of disintegrated soot at the base of the door. Inert and harmless it was a new raw material ready for smelting into something. The killer nanites had done their job perfectly.
He shouted at the remaining men who had pulled in the third, it looked like Dicks, and were busy returning fire.
“I need a few minutes, just keep them at bay for three more minutes, then we’re out of here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, they knew what they had to do.
He needed to get through the disintegrating doorway, so he turned his shield to maximum and pushed his way through the remaining structure. The nanites dropped sliding off his shield to the floor and scurried off in little rivulets; following their leaders on the hunt for more material to digest. They would cause chaos wherever they stopped. He left them to it. He had bigger fish to fry.
Inside, the grey lighting cast an eery glow about the room. There were about twenty mainframes as well as lots of additional equipment all flashing furiously. It would take him ten minutes to deal with them all and he had no idea which ones would be crucial to Ferris’ operation against Space Island. He needed a means of spreading the grey paste as quickly as possible.
Baxter ran around searching out the best locations to place his lethal nanites. As he came back around to the entrance he knew he was running out of time. The sound of weapons fire came closer as his men were being pushed back in the small corridor.
He looked about frantically while pulling out the ceramic flask. He finally looked up at the solid rock roof that had been carved out to make the room; it looked very hard and impervious. It gave him an idea.
Stepping to the end of the long chain of mainframes he lobbed the flask hard against the roof overhead of the computer casings. As it smashed, shards flying across the room were all he could see, reflected in the light from the recessed lighting in the walls. Yet he knew, without a doubt, that the grey sludge inside was even now flying through the room and splattering everywhere, mostly over the machines. He knew it would ignore everything organic and natural. The nanites were created to convert artificial compounds and basic metals into new raw materials, that meant his uniform and weapons were at risk but the shield would protect him.
The men were still being pressed into the small cul-de-sac where they had made their stand, but they had no means of escape. Baxter rejoined them and got a curt nod at the direction of the fire-power as if to say 'got any ideas’ boss?’ He looked down at Dicks, felt his neck for a pulse. There was nothing, he glanced at Phelps, who was calmly chewing gum, he shook his head.
“Backdrop!” Baxter called out as he placed plugs in his ears. The others did the same as they pulled out two grenades each from their satchels. Dropping their weapons by their sides while they armed the grenades they threw them both up and down the corridor, three grenades going each way. They clapped their hands over their heads and curled up on the ground.
The effect of the grenades detonating made the ground ripple with the vibration. They hadn’t used explosives, but concentrated sound waves within the confines of a small space had a concussive effect that blew through the enemy shields as well as their own as a massive percussive wave. Because sound wasn’t classified as dangerous to the wearer, the shields allowed it through. By the time the body reacted and the shields solidified a defence, it was all over.
It was one of those short term weapons that would soon be overcome by technological progress in the shield software. Baxter’s team had a partial defence, but not enough to drown it all out - hence the ear plugs and precautionary ground cover. Ferris’ men weren’t so lucky.
As they ran out of cover carrying Dick’s body with them, they headed back down to the lower levels. The first sight of the damage the grenade had wreaked sickened them. The enemy soldiers were bleeding from everywhere, not dead, but severely injured and probably permanently deaf from the massive sound impact. The grenades had even wrecked their shield emitters, so their shields hadn’t even moderately protected them.
Baxter and Phelps each grabbed a weapon from the soldiers. Osbourne and his team would need to see these guns that killed through personal shields. Baxter led off in a controlled retreat back into the lower recesses. The sound of a gun battle ahead warned them the other team was having similar issues.
They had just reached the same level as the ongoing gun battle when Baxter thought he saw a blur whip through the corridor from left to right, a draught of air blowing across his face. When it stopped, the second team were lying on the ground, their broken bodies showing evidence of massive damage.
As Baxter’s eyes followed the trail of destructi
on he reached the source of the whirlwind. A man stood facing him, thickset, built as though he would have trouble moving, armour-plated like a tank and looking very intimidating. Baxter recognised him vaguely from a picture. This was Ferris, a much changed man from the photographs and video images he remembered seeing from the military archives.
Ferris just smiled – willing him and his team onwards. Baxter was distracted by something off in his peripheral vision. One of his men from the beta team, he couldn’t see who it was in the light. He thought it might be Templar, moving slightly, still alive. He saw him pull something out of his pocket.
Baxter returned the smile of the formidable mutation who stood between his team and freedom and began walking slowly forward providing a necessary distraction. He quietly called out ‘Backdrop’ to his team walking alongside and behind him, turning his head so Ferris couldn’t see him mouth the word. The others nodded and continued to walk towards Ferris, who was now only twenty yards away.
It happened fast, Ferris began to react just as the grenade rolled out of the beta team soldier's hand. It would have been easy for him to see it if he hadn’t already been distracted by a lob over Baxter’s head by Pitt. A sound grenade arced towards Ferris, who was already moving to one side so the grenade would sweep past him and bounce round the corner of the corridor just behind him.
As he stepped forward to protect himself from the expected blast, he stood right above the grenade that Templar had released. They both went off almost at the same time causing the corridor walls to buckle and ripple as the sound wave from behind Ferris picked him up just as the one beneath him lifted him up and smacked him into the roof of the corridor. Rock and dust flew outwards, hard and fast enough to kill or injure anyone in its path.
POD (The Pattern Universe) Page 12
