Something hit her with the force of a thousand hammers, crushing her to the floor. Everything went black.
•
Angel came to, body aching and head throbbing. She tasted iron in her mouth and could smell something burning. She opened her eyes and blinked to clear the whiteness. Was she blind? No, she was staring at the floor, which she was lying on. Her lips and chin felt damp, and she wiped away drool. There was a small puddle on the floor under her head.
[Angel! I’m sorry. You were only unconscious for a few seconds.]
“Gurgh,” Angel said, and rolled onto her back, sucking in cool lungfuls of air. She squeezed her hands into fists to stop them shaking.
[I don’t know what happened. The cleaner should have protected you from the blast.]
Angel felt like she could lie there for a good while, but an explosion of that size must have triggered alarms, and security would be on the way. It was a wonder they weren’t already swarming over the place… except Charlotte had said they’d been taken care of. How?
Reluctantly, she sat up and surveyed the corridor. She’d been thrown a good ten meters from the cleaner, which now looked ready for the scrap heap. Jagged gashes covered its thin metal skin, and she could see straight through to the other side. Wisps of smoke rose from smoldering plastic parts.
“They don’t make them like they used to.”
[Make what? The cleaner? Were earlier models more structurally sound?]
Angel said nothing. Despite her addled state after the explosion, Charlotte’s words still struck her as peculiar. For a child, she seemed… overly intelligent… gifted even. Perhaps that’s why she’d been kept hidden away, a child prodigy of a sort. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Later. Now, she needed to focus.
She gazed ahead past the ravaged cleaner to the polished metal doors—which were now missing. Bright metallic debris littered the floor: pieces of the doors with edges melted from the intense heat. The pile of fused-together chunks would take some removing.
She ran a hand through her hair and patted it down. “All right. Next step is to go through the opening we created?”
[Correct. The metal is still hot, so please be careful.]
You bet I will, Angel thought. She looked around for her weapon. A quick diagnostic check confirmed it was ninety-seven percent operational. Clipping it into her thigh holster, she made her way to the opening and peered inside. Darkness. “Is there any way you can—”
[In case of emergency, the power is cut to this section. Further inside there’s power, though. Through the next door.]
“Another door,” Angel muttered under her breath. “Great.”
She backed away a dozen long steps then ran for the doorway. She leapt over the twisted metal debris, feeling the heat radiating off it, and landed on the other side. A few steps to slow down, and she moved to her left until her hand touched the wall. Light from the corridor behind threw her shadow along the floor. She waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.
[Straight ahead, please.]
Angel had her retinal implants switch to night mode, and in front of her the corridor took shape in hazy lines and green and bluish hues. After a moment, the lines became sharper as algorithms did their job.
As Charlotte had said, there was another door thirty meters ahead. Angel approached, and it opened silently. Beyond was still dark, but a glimmer of light shone from around a corner on the right.
“Anything I should know?”
[Nothing here. Further on, I’ll provide direction.]
“I presume we’re getting out the same way I came in?”
[Oh no, that would be silly!]
Angel could hear the amusement in Charlotte’s voice.
[Most major corporations have contingency plans in case of catastrophe, a secure way to remove valuable research and prototypes. Mercurial Logic Incorporated is no different.]
“Makes sense. So our way out is secure?”
[Mostly.]
“Ah… mostly. Care to elaborate, or am I to be kept in the dark?”
Charlotte’s voice took on a hard edge. [I’ve been in the dark for years. You’ll have to forgive me if I keep later stages of the plan to myself, for security reasons.]
Around the corner, the corridor was punctuated by more security doors, five on either side. Each had a card swipe and keypad for access.
[Third on the left.]
“What’s the key code? And I don’t have a swipe card.”
[There’s no need. Hold your bracelet up to the controls.]
Angel did and blinked in surprise as the door clicked open. It withdrew into the wall, and she peered into a curious research room. State-of-the-art computers packed one wall, all flickering lights and monitors filled with code, while another was cluttered with shelves crammed with… books and children’s toys?
She shivered and rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. Her breath steamed in front of her. The corridors outside were cool, but in this room it was cold.
At the other end of the room stood a coffin-shaped box. It was made entirely from black metal, two meters wide and tall, four long. Thick quantum fibers emanated from the computers plugged into one side.
Angel frowned. “Where are you? Is there another door?”
[I’m… in the box.]
Oh my… a child in a coffin. Of course.
“Really? They lock you in it when they aren’t… doing whatever they do?”
[In a manner of speaking. I haven’t been out in… for as long as I can remember.]
Angel ground her teeth, and her right hand slid down to her weapon. She realized she was trembling with anger. A white-hot rage came close to consuming her. Kidnapping an infant and imprisoning her for years? Experimenting on a child? Whatever they’d done to the girl, she’d never be the same. Mercurial Logic Incorporated would pay. She breathed deeply to calm herself until her trembling subsided.
Moving to the box, she ran her hands over its surface. It was smooth with barely visible joins. She couldn’t see any way to access it.
“I’ll need some guidance. I assume you know how to open it?”
[I’m afraid not. It’s biologically locked. Only two people can open it, and it was impossible to arrange for them to be here at this particular time.]
Charlotte’s voice held an excited edge, as if she could see her plan coming together and her freedom was imminent.
“Right, I’m sure it was. So…?”
[You’ll have to climb onto the box. Everything from here is an automated response to the protect and evacuate signal. Which I’m about to trigger… now.]
Angel waited for something to happen. Nothing did. “Is something wrong?”
[No. Climb onto the box, and you’ll see. Quickly, please. Oh, wait, could you take my monkey with you?]
Angel scanned the toys on the shelves, and her gaze caught on a skinny stuffed monkey. “The pink one? Do you want any others?”
[Just my monkey, please.]
Angel grabbed the monkey and moved back to the box. She quickly undid the top button of her shirt and shoved the monkey underneath, where it rested between her breasts.
She jumped and hooked her fingers over the edge of the black box and pulled herself up. Flinging one leg onto the top, she dragged herself over and lay there. The ceiling was close, and she wouldn’t be able to kneel without hitting her head.
A rumbling came from outside the room, and she looked up. A flashing orange light was approaching from down the corridor. A machine appeared, a flat-armed automated forklift trundling along on oversized wheels. It maneuvered into the room, and Angel felt the box rise slightly. The forklift began beeping, a high-pitched sound designed to warn people around it. It moved forward until its arms were under the box, and again Angel felt herself rise slightly. The forklift’s beeping increased in volume, and with an initial jerk they were moving. The forklift reversed, and the quantum fibers linking the box to the computers detached themselves with clicks an
d the hiss of escaping gas.
Angel clung onto the polished roof of the box. The forklift backed out of the room, and Angel slid across the surface as it turned the corner. She flattened herself as best she could and the face of Charlotte’s pink monkey jammed into her neck.
The forklift gained speed as it backed down the corridor, faster than Angel would have thought was safe if people were around. Somewhere in the distance, a siren sounded.
[Make yourself as flat as possible, Angel. The elevator we’re entering is a tight fit.]
“Oh, I’m flat. Don’t worry about me.”
Ahead of them, what she’d thought was a blank wall opened to reveal an industrial-looking elevator, all steel girders and gleaming surfaces. Without pausing, the forklift backed straight for the elevator. Angel gasped as the top edge of the opening came straight at her head. It was going to miss, wasn’t it? She pressed herself to the top of the box, ear squashed against hard metal. Their momentum halted. She tried to move, but the ceiling of the elevator was so close she couldn’t raise her head more than a few centimeters. The lift door closed behind them.
[Are you okay?]
Angel looked into the monkey’s black beady eyes. “Yes.”
[I would tell you to hold on, but…]
Angel’s stomach lurched as she dropped like a stone. Seconds later, they slowed, and she was thrust down into the top of the box. Another few seconds, and they stopped completely. The lift door opened and they accelerated out of the lift and along another corridor. Lights flashed past as they gained speed before zipping through an opening at the end and entering an immense underground chamber.
Forklifts of differing sizes scuttled around the floor. Most carried containers and blast-secure boxes, and were waiting to deposit their loads into a massive mag-lev train. The flashing orange lights and incessant beeping were already giving her a headache. She watched as the forklifts efficiently deposited their loads into cargo cars. Her eyes narrowed as a small forklift passed bearing a midnight black ball covered with dozens of flat hexagons. This one was the size of her head. She looked behind her and watched as it accelerated toward the front car.
Their forklift maneuvered itself around a few of its fellows and sped toward the end of the train, away from the sleek-angled front car. It turned abruptly, and Angel slipped, scrabbling to remain clinging to the box.
They were deposited inside the last car with a clank as the box hit the metal floor. The high ceiling here gave her room to sit up, and she watched as their forklift backed out and sped off down the platform, lights still flashing.
She slid herself along the top of the box and poked her head out the door of the car. Along the platform, the other forklifts were all backing away from the train, and she could hear doors grind shut and lock. The train looked to be strongly made of a hardened steel alloy. Exactly what she’d expect of a corporation protecting its interests. Dim lights came on around the walls, bright enough to banish the darkness but not much more. On both sides were small rectangular windows made from what looked to be thick blast-proof glass.
An evacuation. If a corporation felt its property was threatened enough to clear out all their research and run for the hills, then…
“We’re heading to the spaceport?”
[Yes.]
“But Mercurial Logic will know there’s no threat.”
[Yes.]
“So they’ll try to stop us. I’m not exactly equipped to deal with whatever they throw at us.”
[You’re more talented than you give yourself credit for. But if all goes to plan, you shouldn’t have to do much. Please pull your head in; the door’s about to close.]
Angel obeyed, and their car door clanked shut, leaving her in darkness. Her implants tried to compensate, but the darkness was absolute. The car jerked once, then twice, then a steady pulling sensation and vibration meant they were on the move.
[This train’s designed not to be stopped. It runs in a direct line from Mercurial Logic to the spaceport, and then to the corporation’s private spacecraft. Another ship designed for evacuation procedures will take us from there.]
“We’ll need to get to the nearest Inquisitor outpost. Local law enforcement are in Mercurial’s pocket.”
[Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. We have to make it off planet first.]
Angel frowned. “Do we have a pilot?”
[I believe you’re rated to pilot lesser ships up to the medium offensive unit range. The evacuation freighter is within those parameters.]
“Uh-huh. The legacy of a misspent youth. I learned I had a talent for a lot of things.”
[I know. The freighter is called the Endurance.]
“That’s a bit bland. Anyway, it’s just a freighter.”
[It has state-of-the-art Pinchier jump drives and a modest weapons setup, including kinetic missiles. And it’s important things have names, and a purpose.]
Angel was struck by the similarity to what Viktor had said, only a few days ago. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “So I’ve been told before.”
There was a pause, as if Charlotte were holding back a sigh or biting her tongue.
[Your piloting skills weren’t what drew me to you.]
“What was?”
[I needed a valiant noble to rescue me. I’ve been dreaming of escaping for so long! Wishing. Planning.]
Angel snorted with disgust. “Princes are overrated, I can tell you, and the Privileged are far from valiant.” Her foster father, for one, the bloody pig. The House that took her in had too many male family members that thought their noble rank entitled them to do whatever they wanted. She’d been old enough to defend herself, but her younger foster-sisters… Angel banished the line of thought. She’d done what she could for them. That was all anyone could expect. “Sometimes it’s the monster who wears the crown.”
There was a pregnant pause. [That’s… not what I expected to hear.]
Charlotte sounded troubled and maybe a little shocked.
“Never mind,” Angel said. “The world outside probably isn’t what you’ve imagined it to be, but it isn’t all bad.” Let her have her dreams.
[I’d love to hear more, but… we’re arriving soon.]
“There’s nothing more to tell. We’ll arrive so soon?”
[It’s a fast train. Only the last stretch is above ground.]
Angel looked out the window. The darkness of the tunnel was banished as they exited. The change was subtle, since it was night, but vague shapes of the trees lining the track blinked past, and there were lights in the distance.
“Why does an automated cargo car have windows?”
[I thought you’d notice. A number of the cars are supposed to have security present in the event of an evacuation for special cargo. Except they couldn’t make it through the locked doors in time to board. It was thought they’d need windows rather than be kept in the dark.]
“And you’re a special cargo?”
[Of course! Haven’t you realized by now?]
Angel grasped both that Charlotte was considered special, and that she only knew a tiny part of her story. And that a lot of things didn’t add up. What was so special about her? And why was she kept in a box?
“How do you breathe in there? And how are we going to get you out? Are there special tools?”
[I’m fine, thank you, Angel. Once we’re off planet, our first task will be to find someone to get me out. Preferably a genius with mechanics and electronics.]
Angel froze, chest tightening. Charlotte wasn’t hinting at Mikal, was she? She felt like the monkey’s eyes were boring into hers, and she scrunched it further down into her shirt.
“Our priority is getting to the nearest Inquisitor outpost so Mercurial Logic can be brought to justice. Who knows how many others they’ve kidnapped and held prisoner?”
She expected Charlotte to respond, but the girl remained silent. She watched the trees flash past for a few moments; then a light caught her eye. It was level wit
h them, traveling too close to the ground to be a regular plane.
Angel slid over the side of the box and lowered herself to the floor. She pressed her nose against the window and tracked the light. It was moving parallel to the train and at the same speed. “We’ve got company.”
[Most likely Mercurial Logic’s security forces. They must have finally realized the evacuation was a sham. They probably think they’re being robbed. At the other end of the car there’s a locker with a suit in it. Could you please put it on?]
Angel glanced at the box. It stood there, black and inscrutable. Squeezing between it and the wall, she found the locker and opened it. Standard-issue locker for security forces traveling inside a rail car with valuable research trying to escape a planet, she supposed. Inside were four black impact suits with outdated displays on the wrists. It seemed Mercurial Logic cut corners on expenses; the suits had to be at least twenty years old.
[They’ll suffice. Once we reach the spaceport, the ride will get a little… bumpy.]
“They’d better. And ‘suffice’? What sort of books have you been reading?” She took a suit out and began slipping it on.
[Whatever they gave me. Classics, fine literature, fairy tales. Not much variety, I’m afraid. I loved the fairy tales the best.]
Angel grunted. She secured the final tab of the suit, and after a moment it shrank to her size. She hesitated then tucked her hair inside at the back and pulled on the hood, which stuck to her head like an octopus’s suckers. She shuddered at the sensation. Below the suits were four helmets, and she took one out and put it on. Dim lights flickered briefly as the suit powered up; then a basic HUD readout appeared to the left of her vision. A waft of cool air brushed against her face as the suit’s environmental system kicked in. It smelled of plastic and solvents. The suit hadn’t gone through regular yearly maintenance, she surmised.
Thirty-seven percent charge. She tapped the helmet, but the number remained steady. Someone at Mercurial needs firing, she thought. And she couldn’t access her hand-cannon with the suit covering it, either.
“Right. It’s about time you told me the rest of your plan. I’ve trusted you this far. It’s time for you to trust me. From now on, I want to know what to expect.”
Inquisitor Page 8
