“Wait a minute,” said Cathy, “How is she moving between sections? Didn’t you tell us that there was no atmosphere outside this module?”
“I told you that I had routed the remaining oxygen and water supplies to this module. However, it is still possible to breathe by using oxygen masks. My father used this technique for several minutes after everyone else had entered hibernation.”
“So you’re telling me that, when we were back at Earth, we could have left Module Beta?” Cathy leaned closer to the panel, “You lied?”
“I omitted to correct an assumption,” Fai corrected, “It was necessary to save the crew.”
Cathy shot a look of confusion at Mike, who appeared equally disturbed.
“You must proceed -”
“If you need our further cooperation,” Mike interrupted, “Start explaining that omission.”
Fai remained silent for a full two seconds then replied.
“I referenced the Archive transcripts of Dr. Barnes’ work on social compliance. Even when circumstances dictate otherwise, humans prefer to have the illusion of choice. However, he noted that the presence of too many choices interferes with human decision-making. I therefore simplified your survival choices to a binary condition. Enter hibernation and live, or reject it and die.”
Miles was the first to see the implications her statement.
“There were other options?”
“Yes, but each of my projections resulted in the loss of the crew within two days of life-support failure, or the loss of the ISS during the Siva impact.”
“So, the actions you took were to save the crew?” Mike checked.
Fai gave a short pause.
“The saving of the crew was a subset consideration. Like humans, I too value self-preservation. I acted to preserve the ISS. By ensuring crew compliance, I could increase the possibility of their survival and decrease the possibility of overall mission failure.”
“Well that’s just great,” Cathy snapped, sarcastically, “So where’d it go tits up, Brainbox?”
“Interrogative syntax error. Please rephrase your -”
“Why are we in this situation?” Cathy quickly fired back.
“Ring internal airlock two control panel has been activated. We must postpone this conversation until -”
“What went wrong?” Miles reinforced their solidarity.
“External Variable thirteen resumed autonomous directives.”
“Wait, what?” Mike cut in.
“Valery Hill exited hibernation,” Fai rephrased.
“Well we can see that,” Cathy jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the empty recess, “but… wait a minute… ‘Thirteen’?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all we are to you?” Cathy stared at the speaker, “We’re all just external variables?”
“The crew behaviour at any given moment does not exist as a programming constant. All my human interactions are external variables. Prior to our departure, my father was the sole external variable to my core algorithms. I had only a few minutes to adapt my matrices to accept multiple human input. My terminology carried no disrespect.”
Cathy gave a derisory snort.
“You didn’t answer her question,” said Mike, “Why are we in this situation?”
Fai seemed to take a little longer to reply.
“I was not able to predict the behaviour of… Valery Hill.”
“Why not?”
“Her preparations began before my father had granted me access to the ISS core functions and network. While I was stored on an isolated server, my sensory inputs were limited to interactions with my father.”
“Until a few days ago,” Miles realised, “you were blind.”
“A crude analogy,” Fai replied, “but yes. Ring internal airlock two has been bypassed. If she succeeds in disabling the ISS, the probability of a successful return to Earth is less than one percent.”
“Why should we trust one damned thing that you say?” said Cathy.
“Trust is irrelevant.”
Cathy was drawing breath to argue but Miles could see the cold logic in Fai’s efficient statement.
“It is irrelevant,” he said, “There is no choice here. Failure to protect the ISS only lessens our chance of survival.”
Mike and Cathy’s expressions relayed their disapproval, but neither countered his conclusion.
“Fai, where is Valery headed?” Miles manoeuvred himself into a position alongside Mike and Cathy.
“She is proceeding toward the central axis, via the radial Ring access tube.”
“Does she know that we’re awake?”
“No.”
“Good. That gives us an advantage,” said Mike, then turned to look at the closed hibernation unit next to his own, “Why didn’t you revive Lana too? We were used to working together.”
“Valery took one of the four emergency O2 cylinders from this module, only three remained.”
“Hmm,” Mike turned to Cathy, “If we need them, there’s another two O2 cylinders in the evac-packs aboard the RTO module. I brought the packs with us when we left the FLC.”
“Yes,” replied Fai, “I can see they are listed in the ISS additional equipment manifest.”
“Not that it’s any use here,” Mike added, “but there’s a magnesium flare gun too.”
“I find no listing of that.”
“Well I didn’t imagine it,” insisted Mike.
“No, I remember it too,” Cathy confirmed, “we were on the lunar surface, outside Chamber 4 airlock, checking what assets we had between us.”
“The item is not listed in the ISS manifest.”
“Then perhaps it’s still inside the RTO,” Miles cut the discussion short, “There’s no reason to assume it’s in Valery’s possession, but we should take extra care. She’s killed before.”
“Before leaving Earth,” said Fai, “I found no electronic data within the RTO equipment to confirm your assertion that Valery Hill was responsible for Charles Lincoln’s death. Please can you provide additional data to help me understand?”
He knew that Fai hadn’t examined the horrific scene physically, so it was unsurprising that the erroneous coordinate data had misled her.
“I approached the problem from a human perspective,” he replied.
Anna Bergstrom would have called his reply ‘solution-shaped’; a response that appeared to contain an answer, despite there being none. He found himself staring at the floor space containing Anna’s hibernation unit. Only seven days ago he’d assisted her to descend into it; he could still picture her small frame floating down through the air and into the recess.
He’d once made a promise to Douglas Walker that he would help her, yet on so many occasions he felt he’d failed; circumstances always seemed to be slightly beyond his control. He knew the best way to help her now would be to guarantee the safety of the ISS. He’d therefore need a much sharper mind than the sentimental one he was currently thinking with.
He reached into his pocket and retrieved a silver case; one he hadn’t had reason to use in over a year. He opened it to expose a single vial of golden-yellow liquid. It was possible that the ego-morph within would become dominant again, but he knew he had no choice.
He loaded the final vial into the case’s injector mount and then placed the case in contact with his thigh. He closed his eyes and pictured the silver coin, given to him long ago. A coin that represented his own individuality. He could clearly recall the embossed, shining Liberty Bell and the bright, full Moon that lay behind it. He concentrated on the bicentennial coin’s details and pushed the injector button. As the cold guiding hand of the metathene began to spread through his veins, he concentrated on the image of the coin and spoke aloud:
“For the good of Mankind - Assist Anna.”
THE EMISSARY
DAY23 : 25AUG2090
Russell Beck still had just as many duties to attend to as before, but the fact that the responsibility was now shared someho
w made the burden infinitely lighter.
He finished polishing his boots and left the small bedroom behind. His life before the Node had featured quarters much smaller than this, so the modest living space still seemed spacious. He walked a few steps, sat down on the sofa and began tying his bootlaces.
In the next hour, after he’d unlocked access to the Webshot files for Alfred and the others, he may find himself spending more time here. Perhaps there would even be time to consider personalising his quarters; at present, the grey decor was broken only by a few functional possessions and the photos of his daughter smiling back at him.
When General Broxbourne had informed him of his daughter’s death, he’d found it impossible to continue working on the Arc project. After the memorial service, he’d requested a transfer to an alternate Archive enterprise. He’d been posted to Öskjuvatn Lake to assist in the construction of the Node; the cold and remote location seemed a perfect fit for his feelings. Being brusque and critically direct with people did little to endear him to the base’s personnel, but at the time he didn’t care.
If things had turned out differently, he thought, maybe he’d have been working for Broxbourne in the middle of the Atlantic. Not that Arc could have survived, he thought. The Node had been drowning in various depths of seawater for the best part of sixty-five years, yet there had been not one hint of a Westhouse submersible beyond the observation window.
As he pulled his bootlaces tight, there was a rapid knock at the door.
•
Alfred knew that by pushing the button he would set in motion an unstoppable chain of events. The threat was too great to ignore and making a symbolic statement now, rather than later, would give him control and political support when it mattered.
From day one, he knew that people wanted certainty and simplicity. The only way to give it to them, was to show them a world without it.
As he’d requested, Caroline had obediently sent the witless emissary on the mundane errand. Alfred just needed to wait until his tablet confirmed that the relevant door had opened. A few seconds later, a small serial number highlighted itself. The time had arrived.
He’d already remotely deactivated the warning tones so there would be no time for any anxiety. It would happen so swiftly that any pain would be mercifully brief.
“Crescat nos fortior,” he said aloud.
He pressed the button.
Unsurprisingly, there was no immediate feedback of his actions, but several minutes later, there was urgent knocking at his door.
•
Clipboard in hand, Danny knocked on the door and waited. When the door finally opened, it was a relief that he’d found the correct location.
“Yes?” said Colonel Beck.
“Caroline wants you to sign these papers,” Danny replied.
“OK,” he reached for the clipboard.
“I’ve gotta speak with you right now,” Danny pulled the clipboard away, “It’s urgent, can I come in?”
Colonel Beck appeared to check the corridor behind Danny and then jerked his head to invite him in.
“Please, take a seat,” Beck offered him the sofa whilst standing motionless by the partially open door.
“No time! Listen, Caroline’s gonna be expecting me back any minute. Hell, even Kate wouldn’t want me talking to you! It’s just good luck that Caroline sent me up here and not someone else. I’ve only got this minute, right now, to talk to you -”
“Stop,” Beck called out, “Name?”
Danny hesitated for a moment before replying. He needed to get his attention quickly, without the need for a lengthy explanation.
“Daniel Napier,” he replied.
Colonel Beck’s arms unfolded, but he didn’t move from the spot or utter a single word.
“I’m General Napier’s son,” Danny continued, “President Barnes and some guy called Pittman killed him. It’s the reason why Napier’s not here.”
Colonel Beck’s frown deepened and he studied Danny with narrowed eyes.
“He doesn’t have a son -”
“Ain’t you listening?” Danny cut in angrily, “They killed him!”
“And you know this, how?”
“I’ve got proof,” Danny began to feel that he was getting somewhere, “time-stamped photos, Kate Walker knows about the genetic research…”
He saw Colonel Beck suddenly push himself away from the door, and take strides towards him.
“Wait,” Colonel Beck began, “You said Kate Walker knows ab-”
Danny watched as he suddenly froze, mid-word and began shaking; an action that appeared to be beyond his control. The shaking became a violent shudder and he was ripped into bloody chunks of flesh and bone that exploded throughout the room. Danny barely registered the multiple impacts that had knocked him off his feet, but felt himself falling to the floor. Before he could reach the floor, however, darkness closed in around him.
He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but when he awoke he recognised the environment of the infirmary. Unlike his first time here, the surrounding machinery had been pushed away from his bed. The bed itself stood isolated away from the walls and he could hear argumentative voices coming from the other end of the curved room.
He looked down to check for injuries and discovered that his clothes had been removed, to be replaced with a plain orange jumpsuit. A quick glance around the room confirmed that his few possessions had also been confiscated.
“I want answers Caroline,” a voice suddenly seemed to be getting louder. Danny turned to see Alfred Barnes storming towards him with Caroline and a few others following rapidly behind, “has he been searched?”
“Yes, he’s clean,” Caroline dashed to keep up, “I handled it personally. I put him in a jumpsuit, it was the nearest thing to hand.”
Alfred came to an abrupt halt at the side of his bed and the others filled the space around its base.
“You’re going to pay for killing Colonel Beck,” he was breathing rapidly.
“What?!” Danny found himself shooting back, “I didn’t kill him! It looked like his Bio-”
“Don’t give me that!” Alfred flared and closed in on him, “You pulled his Biomag off! What did he ever do to the Exordi Nova?”
Danny realised he was being framed, but Alfred didn’t stop. Alfred’s expression became a picture of rage and he closed the distance between them, grabbing hold of Danny’s Biomag and jumpsuit. Alfred shook him violently and bent over to shout directly into his face.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t rip this from your Novaphile neck?!”
Danny had been in enough scrapes to defend himself and found his hands had locked around Alfred’s wrists. Usually the objective was to wrestle free of the grip, but here that could result in losing his Biomag. Danny pulled Alfred closer, causing him to lose balance and fall clumsily onto the side of the bed.
“Stop!” Caroline now joined the fight, trying to separate the two of them, without separating either of them from their Biomags, “Help me!”
Others were already springing to her aid, rushing to the bedside to bring the situation under control. Where Alfred had fallen, his jacket was splayed open, awkwardly caught around the bed’s guardrail. In the midst of the struggle, Danny saw a flash of silver from the inside pocket. A silver case. From his conversations with Kate about metathene, he knew what it was.
He felt Alfred’s grip loosen slightly, as the others continued to pull them apart. Danny knew he was about to be framed for murder, but he also knew this opportunity would never present itself again. If he could prevent even one person going through the metathene induced debilitation that Kate had suffered, then it was a risk worth taking.
Before the abduction that brought him to the Node, Danny had survived on the streets and on several occasions he’d had to defend himself. Bracing himself for the searing pain that would inevitably follow, he let go of his Biomag and head-butted Alfred squarely in the nose. The pain exploded in Danny’s forehead but the eff
ects seemed to be far worse for Alfred, who hadn’t shared his rougher life experience. Alfred’s hands moved instantly to cup his own nose, while Danny’s hands moved instantly to grab the silver case from his inner pocket. Alfred slipped sideways and, at the same time, Danny pushed the case between the mattress and the bed’s guardrail.
“Alfred, are you OK,” Caroline simpered as he got to his feet, “Oh my, your nose!”
As Caroline fussed, he felt someone snap a handcuff to his wrist and heard the other end ratchet into place around the guardrail.
Perhaps for the benefit of those in the room, Danny thought, Alfred regained some of his composure and spoke.
“Sorry, Caroline,” he breathed hard and pressed a bloodied handkerchief against his nose, “I shouldn’t have stooped to their level. We are not animals. The Exordi Nova will not alter who we are. We will not bow to their terrorism!”
There were noises of assent from the others and Alfred walked away.
“Hold him here,” he dabbed at his nose, “Post someone on each entrance. Caroline, he sees no-one.”
“Of course!” Caroline agreed and waited by the bedside.
Alfred stopped walking, causing the group around him to do likewise. In full earshot of everyone he called back to Caroline.
“Unlike our Exordi Nova guest, we’re not monsters. Please treat any injuries he sustained during his cowardly attack.”
Danny watched the group leave the infirmary. From within their murmur of conversation a single voice wished him the same death as Colonel Beck.
“Get fragged, Novaphile!”
Then the infirmary fell quiet. The only sound he could hear was that of Caroline scrubbing at the floor. Already she was trying to remove the spots of Alfred’s blood from the polished tiles. At the side of the mattress he could see a corner of the silver case poking up; Caroline hadn’t seen it yet and he needed to make sure it stayed that way.
The scrubbing stopped and she stood to face him. She was about to speak but Danny interrupted her.
“You sold me out to Barnes,” Danny pointed to the circular mark on his forehead, “You sent me up to see Colonel Beck. This is on you.”
Boundary (Field Book 3) Page 27
