“Moving, I can do.” Eyes flicking fast from the road to the rear display, searching for the black machine that had killed Ruben's friend. “I can't see it, where is it?”
“It's coming wide, figuring the next attack. They won't want to blow holes in an expressway, makes them look bad.” Ruben could see so much more on the net than she could, with her uplinks Sinta had to stop everything and concentrate, freaks like Ruben did it simultaneously.
“Shouldn't we get off the expressway and get some cover?” They were awfully exposed up here, towers and smaller buildings whipping by, exits and glowing signs with them. “I can still go plenty fast with cover.”
“It's not fast enough.” Ruben had his shades down, concentrating hard. “They've got some…freaking huge net controller locking us out. It's shutting down whole sections of network reception that we're in, the only thing it struggles with is rapid transition from one region to the next. We need at least 300 kph.”
They were nudging 350; Tanushan groundcars routinely did 180 up here, perfectly safe under central control, but at 350 even huge, gentle corners seemed to come up awfully fast, and the steering translated even the faintest little nudge into a life-threatening event. She'd done sims like this where she'd made mistakes and crashed. It was quite an experience to know that a similar mistake here would end her life for real.
“Dammit,” Ruben muttered at something he saw on uplinks, “not now!” Pause, Sinta concentrating as hard as she'd ever concentrated in her life around a wide left, jaw clenching at every little slide of tires. “It's coming around on us. Give me the chip.”
“Left inside pocket,” said Sinta, not daring to use a hand. Ruben reached, removed it, pulled a small reader from a pocket and placed it in.
“Ten seconds,” he said. “I've got a connection, ten seconds and we can take the next offramp. Get ready to dodge.”
“I can't fucking dodge at this speed, we'll die.”
“Well, then find the next exit. Five seconds.” Slower cars ahead were blocking the left lane approach to the exit, Sinta hit the left indicator and watched as central slowed them dramatically, clearing a way.
“Coming up!” She began to shift left, easing onto the brakes with increasing weight, if she hit the ramp at 350 they'd leave the road and bury themselves in the fifth floor of a neighbouring building.
“Got it!” he said triumphantly. “Missile lock, hang…!” Something blew them sideways. Then upside down, the world slowly turning, then a screech of metal, sparks, and a freeway barrier racing at them faster than fear.
Danya looked across from his perch watching the rising dawn by the hotel window, as Kiril woke up, looking puzzled. He put a hand to his head, then waved it in front of his eyes.
“Kiri?” Danya asked. “What's wrong?”
“I think my uplinks are working,” said Kiril. “I can see things, it's weird.”
Danya went quickly over to Kiril's bed and sat. “What can you see, Kiri?” It wasn't the first time Kiril had had strange flashes on his uplinks. Maybe this was just another one.
“I don't know.” He sat up, blinking. “Funny things. Shapes.”
“Does it hurt?” Danya asked with concern. “Does it give you a headache?”
“No. It's just weird. I feel a bit dizzy.”
Danya's heart was thumping. He didn't like this at all. He could defend Kiril from ordinary dangers, but he had no idea what to do about the uplinks except to take the doctors’ advice that they'd done everything possible to freeze their further propagation, and report anything further to them. But he couldn't contact the FSA's doctors now, not with all the stuff going on he'd been watching on his AR glasses.
Svetlana raised her head from the other bed's pillows, where she'd been sleeping in her clothes, bleary-eyed and hair messed up. “Danya? What else happened?” She'd been awake periodically, as Danya told her about the coup.
“Um, they released a bunch of stuff about the coup to the media, and the media treat it all like it's true. Sandy always said the media were full of shit.”
“Did Sandy call?” Hopefully.
“No, she can't call us Svet, she doesn't want anyone to track us here. Kiril's uplinks are acting up again.”
“Oh, Kiri, not again.” Svetlana was less than impressed. “You want those things to be turned on so badly you think they're working all the time.”
“I can see writing,” said Kiril, putting a hand over his eyes. “It's like someone wrote me a message.”
“Really?” Danya didn't know what to think. Svetlana was right, plenty of times he'd thought they were working when they weren't. “What does the message say?”
“And why would someone write you a message?” Svetlana asked tiredly, head back on the pillows. “They're uplinks, why not just talk to you?”
“Because Dr Kishore says my eyes are more connected than my ears,” said Kiril, putting a hand over his eyes to block visible light. “It says…wait a minute…”
“It says wait a minute?” Svetlana grinned.
“Leave him alone, Svet,” said Danya. “Go on, Kiri.”
“Hello, Kiril.” Danya looked at him blankly. “That's what it says,” Kiril explained. “Hello, Kiril, this is Ari Ruben.”
Danya stared at him. “Ari! Go on!”
“I'm so sorry to do this to you, and Sandy's going to kill me.” Kiril was a very good reader, even by Tanushan standards. His teachers had been very impressed. “But I had to send this info…information to someone, and you're the only person I can reach…reach? Yes, reach, whose uplinks won't be traced, except for Ragi, and I don't know where he is.”
Kiril looked up at Ari. “Who's Ragi?”
“I don't know,” said Danya. “Sandy never mentioned him. What else does he say?”
“There's a file with this message that the memory por…portion? Portion of your uplinks will store. It's very important that you don't get caught. Try to get this information to Director Ibrahim of the FSA. He's the only one you can trust, except for Sandy and Sandy's friends, but they can't contact you without putting you in danger. Be safe, and listen to Danya, he'll know what to do.”
Kiril gazed up at Danya expectantly. So did Svetlana, now bolt-upright on her bed, wide-eyed. He'd know what to do? He didn't. How the hell would anyone know what to do in a situation like this? Let alone a thirteen-year-old boy who'd only been here a few months?
He got up and went to the windows. The sunrise was beautiful, across the enormous cityscape, guidance lights blinking on the towers, warning to the slowly increasing air traffic, busy on this day like any other day, political crisis or not. Panic was not an option. He'd been in dangerous situations before. He just had to think his way through the process like he had then. And then…well, the first thing was to realise that you didn't need to know everything. Kids usually couldn't. But kids could be very good at seeing what was immediately in front of them. Deal with that, let the rest sort itself out.
“Well,” he said, and took a deep breath. “It must be really important. I mean no one uses Kiril's uplinks; I didn't even know Ari could activate them. And he's right, Sandy will kill him.”
“Maybe he had no choice,” Svetlana said urgently. “Maybe he's in trouble.”
Well, stating the obvious, Svet. But he didn't say it. “And he wants us to go to Director Ibrahim. But we can't just call him because Ari would have done that himself if he could…and Ari's so good at everything network, if he can't get through, no one can.”
Except maybe this Ragi person. Whoever that was. But it made sense, because as he understood it, what was happening was a takeover of the Federal government. Not the local Callayan government, that was big enough…but the Federal government, the Grand Council. The place that ran everything. And if you controlled that, surely you could control the network in ways that even someone like Ari couldn't. Ari was like a car on the road or a cruiser on a skylane, but the Feds controlled the roads and skylanes. And could deny access however and to whomever they
wanted.
“So how do we get to Ibrahim?” Svetlana wondered. “I mean, we can't just catch an air taxi, right?”
“No one can land at FSA HQ without clearance,” said Danya. “I mean, we could probably get it if we asked, being Sandy's kids, but they're after Sandy…they're saying she was leading the coup.”
“Yeah, right!” Svetlana snorted.
“No, the Feds will grab us before we get halfway there.” Or shoot us down, was the less pleasant version. “We could try to sneak in, but security will be everywhere, and we kind of stand out. I mean, they know there's three of us, they know our ages and genders, they see us three together they'll figure it out.”
“But why do they want us?” Kiril asked. “We're just kids. And Ari said they can't trace that message.” Smart Kiril, always understanding just enough to get him into trouble.
“We're Sandy's kids, Kiril. They've accused her of leading a coup. We know that's bullshit, they won't want us telling anyone, they need to prove she did it.”
“But she didn't!”
That Kiril and Svetlana were so certain was predictable. Danya wasn't so sure. He loved Sandy, but loving someone didn't mean you trusted they'd do everything right. And he hadn't known her that long, really. But voicing those doubts here served no purpose.
“They're liars, Kiril,” he explained. “They need everyone to believe they're not liars. We know they are, so they won't want us talking to anyone.”
“Maybe we could go to the media?” Svetlana wondered.
Danya shook his head. “None of the media like Sandy, they wouldn't believe us.” And they'd make us into the story, he thought. Sandy was always worried about that, it was why the media knew so little about them. Poor little brainwashed kids, believing their GI foster mother was a good person when she was really a monster.
“So if we can't go to any of the HQs ourselves,” Svetlana said slowly, thinking as hard as Danya had ever seen her think. “But we can't use the net at all because the Feds will find us.” And she brightened. “We have to find Ari! Ari can find anyone, right?”
Danya shook his head, gnawing a nail. “If he could find us, he wouldn't have sent that message. Like you said, I think he's in trouble. In fact, I think maybe he's…” but he didn't know that. And wouldn't say it, not just for his siblings’ sake, but for his own. And Sandy's. But sending vital information to Kiril seemed like the desperate last act of someone about to run completely out of options. “I think maybe he's gone to ground, so no one can find him,” Danya finished.
“Then who?” asked Kiril.
Danya thought hard. Sandy had friends in the underground…many of whom she'd lately suspected were becoming less keen to help her. The Feds would be watching all of them, and besides, Danya didn't know them well enough to guess which were real friends. In Droze he'd discovered all too often how people who were friendly when it was safe for them became less so when it wasn't.
Sandy also knew people in civil rights, lawyers and the like, helping on various GI asylum cases…but she hadn't been in contact with them since she'd been back, and he'd gathered some of them were kind of upset with her. Ditto various GIs in Tanusha with whom she was always friendly but no longer regarded as “one of the team,” as she'd heard Sandy once put it in conversation with someone else.
“There's Poole,” he considered aloud. “But he's a CSA-trainee and the CSA are locked down.”
“There's Detective Sinta?” Svetlana suggested.
“The Feds were after her even before all this happened,” Danya replied. “She'll have gone to ground, if they haven't got her already.”
“This sucks!” Svetlana exclaimed in frustration. “This is supposed to be a good place, how can the Grand Council go around grabbing and killing everyone they don't like?”
“They say they're responsible for a coup,” Danya explained tiredly, slumping against the wall by the window. “Or an attempted coup. So they get everyone and say they had no choice, the coup was just about to happen. Like that time you punched Hanny Graham in the nose, then said he was just about to hit you so you had no choice.”
“Well, he was!” Danya raised a skeptical eyebrow. Svetlana huffed. “I bet you he was. I was sure of it.”
“It's called a preemptive strike, Svet. And if you make up a big enough tale about the thing you were preempting, you can excuse pretty much anything, without the other person actually having done anything.”
“Hanny was going to do something, he was balling up his fists like this, and…”
“Hey, look!” Kiril cut her off, pointing to the room display, flashing images with the sound off. There was a picture of Sandy, from back when she'd had longer hair. It was in the corner of a larger image, a house on fire, surrounded by fire trucks. The image divided, back to a studio, a commentator behind a desk.
“…now confirming the sensational news that Commander Kresnov was personally piloting this cruiser when it flew into a house in Claremont, killing three occupants, including a small child. Officials will not confirm whether Commander Kresnov has been confirmed killed in the incident, but we've all seen the footage of the A-12 combat flyer crashed in nearby Claremont CBD. Officials will neither confirm the cause of that incident, but eyewitnesses and some emerging security vision indicates at least two gunships chasing and shooting at someone on the ground, followed by one of them being destroyed…and again, I'll repeat that this is just speculation at this point, but the speculation is that that gunship was destroyed by Commander Kresnov. No civilians were killed or injured in that shooting, which is quite remarkable given how built up the area is, and how little concerned Commander Kresnov appears to have been about civilian casualties in this firefight, using these populated buildings on the ground for cover.”
“What the fuck is she supposed to do?” Svetlana yelled at the screen. “Stand in the open and let them kill her?”
“Shush, Svet,” said Danya, staring at the screen.
“They make it sound like she started it!” Svetlana protested. “They attacked her! And it's not her fault if her cruiser lands on someone after they shoot it down!”
“I know, Svet, quiet!”
“…trying to get an official response from Director Ibrahim of the Federal Security Agency…our viewers will of course recall that Shan Ibrahim was previously the Director of the Callayan Security Agency, before being transferred in controversial circumstances to head the Federal body following the abrupt resignation of former Director Diez four months ago…”
“Is anyone here stupid enough not to know that?” Svetlana asked. “I know that and I only just got here.”
“Yes, plenty are that stupid,” said Danya. “Now quiet.”
“A short time ago a spokeswoman for Ambassador Ballan of the Office of Intelligence Directorate gave this brief statement to the media.” A woman's face appeared, before many lights and cameras. She spoke. “It saddens us greatly to learn that Commander Kresnov was behind this despicable plot. We'll be releasing records, intercepted communications between the Commander and various of the other plotters. We're confident they show just how central she was to the entire affair. Given her capabilities, it was with great regret that the OID concluded it had no choice but to eliminate the Commander in the opening moments of Operation Shield. The results of that strike are as yet inconclusive, and we ask you all to be patient as we investigate further into the Commander's status. Thank you.”
And departed, ignoring the shouted questions of reporters at her back.
“Ha!” said Svetlana. “They didn't kill her; if they'd killed her they'd be shouting about it! They know damn well she killed their gunship instead, and now she's going to kill all of them!”
“No, she won't.” Svetlana and Kiril looked at Danya in surprise. Danya was nearly surprised himself. But suddenly, he found himself increasingly sure of what was going on…or at least, of what he had to do. “Killing people won't change the situation in the GC, Sandy will have to prove this is all a setup. You
do that by being smart, not just by killing people.”
“I bet she kills a few of them,” Svetlana said hopefully.
“Probably a few,” Danya agreed. “But whatever Ari sent to Kiril, it's important to help prove this is all a setup. If we're going to help Sandy, we have to get that information to someone who can help.”
“Who?”
“I don't know. But I want to start by finding out who this ‘Ragi’ person is, because if his uplinks are based on the same technology as Kiril's, he might be the only guy who can still talk to everyone on the net.”
Tacnet showed Poole that they were flying very low, and very fast. Which would be interesting for the pilot, because CSA SWAT's emergency lanes privilege couldn't be working, so how they were doing it without crashing into people, Poole didn't know.
Captain Arvid Singh was having a harsh conversation with someone back at HQ, probably Director Chandrasekar himself, but no one could hear exactly what because Singh's faceplate was down, and the conversation wasn't registering on tacnet. The rest of SWAT One were crammed onto bench seats in full armour, fists gripping supports and some standing to make room for four medtechs, their gurneys, and other equipment. Poole was not the only GI—the other was Patrick, a 41 series now a permanent member of SWAT One, having passed all training and acquired citizenship some months back. After hearing what had happened to the base down in the Maldaris, pretty much every GI in SWAT had volunteered, but Singh had selected Poole as his plus-1 and left in a rush. Fair bet that Chandrasekar was not happy, but no one had waited long enough to hear his opinion.
“Okay,” said Singh, using tacnet com to be heard above the roaring engines and rattling equipment as they bumped through Tanusha's humid air. “ETA two minutes. We don't have a feed on the crash site because the Feds aren't sharing and they've banned media overflights. But there's a crash on the L35, two badly injured, we're pretty sure one is Agent Ruben, not sure who the other passenger is.
Cassandra Kresnov 5: Operation Shield Page 40
