by M. R. Forbes
He was on the ground, covered in blood, eyes still open, chest moving.
"Got them," he said as she came to a stop beside him. She lifted him slightly to retrieve one of the rifles. She was going to need it.
"Yes, you did. Thank you."
He was dead before she finished talking. She lifted the weapon, clearing the magazine and inserting a fresh one.
Then she looked up.
She was standing on a large platform a dozen meters from the floor of the hangar. The Goliath was resting in front of her, a hundred spotlights illuminating different parts of the ship scheduled for inspection that day. She felt her heart pound, instantly overwhelmed by the sight of it, the size of it. The hangar and the starship seemed to stretch on forever, and at that moment she could barely believe something so massive would ever break free of Earth's gravity, regardless of the huge repulsor sled that had been built beneath it.
The ship was a huge block of alloys and carbonate. Aesthetically, it was a square, ugly thing. Katherine didn't see that. All she saw was the beauty of her dream to go to the stars, wrapped up in the ugly nightmare of Watson's efforts to steal it all away from humankind.
She was the only one left who could stop it.
54
"Kathy," she said as she ran for the stairwell that would lead her to the hangar floor. "I need those blast doors open, and I don't have one key, let alone two. Tell me there's something you can do."
"I'm sorry," Kathy replied. "There's nothing I can do. The blast doors are on a separate circuit. They can't be overridden."
"That's not completely true," Michael said, cutting in on the channel.
"What do you mean?" Kathy asked.
"I mean there's another way to get them open."
"Which is?"
"Complete power failure, and I mean complete. All systems offline. Total meltdown. Without the air exchangers running, if the doors are closed they have to open, or all personnel are at risk of suffocation. That's why there are three layers of redundancy. The odds of a total failure are as close to zero as you can get."
"But they aren't zero," Kathy said.
"Nothing ever is, is it? The good news is that all of the power control systems are networked. I can get into them and shut them down."
"What's the bad news?"
"If the rest of the power is off, you'll need to get the Goliath out of the hangar on your own. No launch module, no assistance."
"You want me to eyeball a two-kilometer starship out of a hole in the side of a mountain?" Katherine said.
"I said there was an option, not that it was a good one."
Katherine heard the report of gunfire and ducked as bullets began striking the railing beside her. She reached the bottom of the hangar, looking over to a line of flatbed maintenance transports. One of them was missing. Watson.
"Fine. Ditch the launch module and get on that. ETA?"
"I have no idea," Michael replied. "I have to get into the secondary systems. Kathy, maybe you can help me brute force it?"
"Of course," Kathy said.
"Then as soon as possible. You'll know it's happening when all the lights go out, and the doors begin to open."
"Wonderful," Katherine said flatly.
She reached the transport, climbing onto it and reaching the control stand. She turned it on, the repulsors thrumming beneath the slab. The spiders were climbing down the side of the platform, heading for her. She maneuvered the transport with one hand while bracing herself and shooting back. She managed to hit one of them before getting the transport up and away.
"Out of the frying pan," she said to herself as the machine rose.
She leveled it to the side of the Goliath, directing it toward the starship's hangar bay. She caught sight of the second transport resting inside only moments before someone there started shooting at her.
She swung the transport to the left, bringing the front up so that it provided some cover from the attack. She could hear the bullets pounding the lip, and then the undercarriage.
A red light flashed on the control stand, indicating a problem. The repulsor was likely taking damage from the attack. Damn it. She accelerated the transport, bringing it up above the Goliath's hangar and trying to jerk it back and forth as though it were a fighter. It moved sluggishly, and the bullets continued to pepper the bottom while smoke started to pour up from the sides.
There was no way escape the attack. The next best option was to shorten the duration. She crouched behind the stand, reaching up to manipulate the joystick. She got the simple machine pointed back toward the hangar, and then in the direction of the muzzle flashes. Bullets continued to ricochet off the stand, and she felt one hit her armor as it was deflected, leaving a gash across it.
Then the bottom suddenly fell out from under her, the transport losing power altogether. She could see the mouth of the hangar only a few meters away, but she wasn't sure how high above it she was. She didn't have a choice. She pushed off, leaping past the control stand and away from the plummeting transport.
Then she fell, ten feet to the edge of the hangar. She hit hard, her armor absorbing the worst of the descent. She rolled over, gaining her feet in a hurry, bringing her rifle up and around.
The Watson was a dozen meters away. He was in the middle of reloading his rifle, clearing the magazine and grabbing for another.
She was luckier than she deserved. She let off three bursts, catching the soldier in the chest. He fell to the floor and didn't move.
Katherine stumbled to her feet, taking in the expanse of the Goliath's hangar. It was empty. None of the support craft had been loaded yet. Probably none of the food or other necessities either. Even if she got away, how was she going to survive?
It was a problem for later. She had to get to the bridge. There had to be more of Watson's soldiers on board. Where were they?
She began running, trying to remember the layout of the ship. A central hub, with a lift that would take her to the bridge that was embedded deep within the starship. The thought of it reminded her of the camera system that had been installed to give them a full view of space outside. It had made her sick the first few times she had been exposed to the simulations.
She reached the hangar exit. The hatch moved aside at her approach. She nearly walked right into a bullet as a second soldier started shooting at her from down the corridor.
She fell to the ground, bringing her own rifle up. Her HUD helped her target, proving the difference in the fight as her fire found him before his naked eye could perfect the aim.
She continued on, wanting to be more cautious but knowing there was no time. She couldn't see the facility lights go off now that she was inside, which meant the blast doors could be opening already.
"Michael," she said through the tac-net.
There was no reply.
"Michael."
Nothing.
Was he dead? If he was, everything was already lost. She could only hope his lack of response was because the starship's internals were causing too much interference.
She made it to the lift, hitting the controls to open it, and then waiting while it descended. It meant that someone was already up on the bridge. Already waiting. She wasn't surprised.
She climbed into the lift and directed it back up. Her heart was racing, but her mind was calm. She lifted the rifle's strap from her shoulder, letting it fall free. She checked on her sidearm, making sure it was in easy reach. She would have to be careful where she shot. One misdirected bullet into the pilot station and the Goliath wouldn't be going anywhere.
She pulled in a sharp breath of air, holding it for a moment. What was it Mitchell always said? Slow. Steady. Let it come to you. React.
The lift reached the bridge. She pushed herself into the corner, crouching down as the doors began to open.
The first thing she saw was that the control terminals were already alive and active, the systems online and ready to go.
The next thing she saw was a slender m
an in a white lab coat standing in front of her, unarmed and smiling.
"Katherine."
"Watson?"
She pointed the rifle at him. He raised his hands.
"Are you going to kill an unarmed man, then? The only thing that separates him from innocence is the implant. It isn't his fault that he's me."
"What were you doing up here?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
"Bullshit."
"Check the logs. Check the terminals. Check whatever you want. I haven't touched a thing."
"Nobody believes that."
"Okay. I did touch one thing. But you're going to have to deal with that." He lowered one of his hands slowly, reaching for the touchpad on the command chair.
"Don't," she said.
"I just want to show you something," he replied.
He hit the button. The three-sixty view turned on. The facility was pitch black, save for a tiny sliver of light in front of the starship.
The blast doors were opening.
55
"We are approaching the coordinates, Colonel," Teegin said.
Mitchell shifted his eyes, focusing closer to his face where his HUD showed him the blinking target almost directly below. He looked over the corner of the S-17's canopy, spotting nothing but clouds beneath the modified starfighter.
"Any sign of life down there?" he asked.
"No, Colonel. My sensors are not picking up any sign of activity. I am concerned that Watson has deceived us."
Mitchell checked his sensors. They were dead, too. If there were anything hiding under the ceiling, it appeared to be dormant.
"I'm going to head down for a closer look. Hard and fast, in case he's just laying in wait."
"Affirmative."
Mitchell cut the throttle and pointed the craft downward with a thought, enjoying the return of his neural interface. Flying by stick was fine in a pinch, but it didn't compare with the speed, responsiveness, and overall exhilaration of flying on impulse.
The fighter shook as it entered the clouds, turbulence knocking it from side to side. Moisture began to gather a few seconds later, droplets of water sliding against and off the canopy, obscuring Mitchell's view. Flashes of lightning became visible within the blankets of heavy gray clouds, and the wind buffeted the craft even harder.
"We're really lucking out with the weather," Mitchell said, tracking their destination with the HUD. They were at four thousand meters. According to the CAP-N, they would break the clouds at one thousand.
"It is very wet," Teegin agreed.
They continued the descent. Mitchell flicked the fighter to the left at a warning from his p-rat, and a moment later a flash of lightning crossed their path, followed by the sharp crack of thunder. He brought the S-17 back on course as it finally reached the edge of the cloud cover and pushed through into clearer skies.
They weren't as clear as he had been hoping. Lightning continued to flash around them, and the rain was falling in sheets, creating a misty haze around the tower that appeared suddenly out of the shrouded darkness below.
"Shit," Mitchell cursed, a thought causing the fighter to react to the sudden obstacle.
It whined and rattled as it swung wide around the structure, only to nearly slam into another one. It shook harder the second time, barely making the tight angle to clear the second building and escape back into the open.
"Where the hell are we?" Mitchell asked, putting some distance between them and their target. He could see the ocean underneath them now, huge swells and whitecaps churned up by the fury around them.
"It appears to be an oceanic data farm," Teegin replied. "It is not listed in any records that I can locate."
"Data farm?" Mitchell asked.
"Yes, Colonel. Massive stores of data are contained offshore where a constant supply of cold seawater can be pumped through to keep the processors cool. It is a means to improve both speed and efficiency of data access. It is also the perfect place for a Tetron to hide. The main servers are located below the sea level, making the heat and energy signatures very difficult to monitor."
"You never thought of that before?"
"Of course we did, Colonel. We examined every such location we were able to find records for. I am reviewing my data stack. I am one hundred percent certain that this platform should not exist."
"So you're saying Watson hid it from us?"
"Not only from us, Colonel. From the entire world. Over the last six weeks, we were able to obtain a number of classified Nova Taurus records through both social engineering and network security lapses. This platform does not show up in any of them. We were also able to gather millions of satellite images taken over a ten year period. This platform does not appear on any of them, either, and-" Teegin paused for a moment. "Yes. I have confirmed that we have sixteen photographs of this latitude and longitude. The platform is not present."
An image appeared in the corner of Mitchell's eye, passed from the Core to the CAP-N, and from the CAP-N to Mitchell's p-rat. He took a moment to zoom into it. There was nothing but the dark ripple of waves on the backdrop of ocean.
Mitchell turned the fighter around, heading back toward the rig to get a better look at it. It was difficult with the weather, but he was able to make out the massive pylons that vanished into the crashing waves, along with the impossibly large structure above it. It looked almost like a floating city, especially with the three large towers that he had nearly crashed into.
"How do you build something this large, and have no record of it?" he said.
"Clearly, Watson erased it all, and likely killed or enslaved anyone connected to it. He would not be able to operate this facility on his own, which means not only are there people on board, but the platform would require regular deliveries from somewhere."
"And there are no records of that either?"
"No."
"So, do you have any idea what we're going to find on that thing?"
"I cannot even confirm with certainty that Watson is on the platform, Colonel. We cannot rule out that this is an elaborate diversion years in the making. It is certainly not outside the realm of possibility for a Tetron."
Mitchell knew that all too well. "I guess there's only one way to find out. If neither of our sensors can pick up anything out of the ordinary, we're going to have to touch down and take a look around."
"Agreed, Colonel."
Mitchell adjusted his vector, bringing the S-17 in low, skimming it just over the surface of the rough waves. The wind was still battering the craft, but familiarity with the situation had brought him subconscious understanding and compensation through the neural interface. While the fighter still skipped from side to side, it had taken on a smoother exchange, the rattling calmed.
He circled the platform once at the low altitude, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything that might confirm or deny Watson's presence on it. Small sparkles of light revealed illumination through windows, and the distortion of air from heated surfaces at least suggested that someone was on board. Still, as he passed between the platform and the roiling ocean, he couldn't be confident that they were going to find what they were seeking here.
"Let's make this quick," he said. "Katherine's probably to the launch site by now. If Watson isn't here, we're going to need a plan B."
"Affirmative," Teegin replied.
Mitchell guided the S-17 to the edge of the platform, and then lifted the nose, going vertical. He climbed halfway up one of the towers before cutting the thrust completely, letting the fighter begin to fall. The arms and legs spread apart from the central torso as it did, and he fired the vectoring thrusters in the feet, slowing the descent until the hybrid machine touched down on the surface of the platform with an echoing clang.
A second clang followed a moment later, as Teegin released itself from the back of the craft, coming to stand beside the mech. They were in a clear alley between two larger structures. One seemed to be an exhaust of some kind. The other looked
like living quarters, as it helped form the base of the towers. Mitchell turned the fighter, gazing up at the lit windows, but he didn't see anyone looking back at them.
"The entrance to the below-deck facilities should be this way," Teegin said, leading him forward.
Mitchell guided the mech behind the Core, keeping the larger amoebic launcher held ready in case Watson was here and decided to attack. He could feel the structure shifting as he walked, the rough seas causing it to shift against its moorings.
They reached the center of the platform, where a small, armored structure had been placed. A heavy door rested in the side of it, a small security pad to its right, a red LED the only signal that it might be in use.
Mitchell opened the canopy and lowered the front of the S-17. He grabbed his rifle and jumped down to the platform surface, immediately feeling his balance shift. Teegin put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"I will send the fighter into a fixed pattern above us," Teegin said. "Your wireless interface should remain functional for up to ten kilometers. You will be able to call it back when needed."
"Roger," Mitchell replied, turning to watch as the S-17's canopy closed and it lifted itself into the air. That was a new trick.
Teegin approached the door. A single dendritic strand spooled out from his hand as he did, sinking into the security pad. The light turned green a moment later, and the Core pulled the heavy door open.
Mitchell held the rifle ready as the interior of the structure was revealed. There was little enough inside. An open lift was straight ahead. A small open area with racks for wet clothing and boots was on the left. There were four pairs of boots resting there.
"At least we know someone is in here," Mitchell said.
They moved to the lift. The doors began to close as soon as they entered. Mitchell glanced at Teegin. Its already uncanny human expression was almost comical in its curious confusion.
"Interesting," the Core said.
