by A. K. DuBoff
Kira put the box in position.
Bits of rock tried to rise up over it, but the rock disintegrated into particles as soon as it made contact with the tuned shield around the device.
Jasmine paused.
Kira sighed.
Kira’s blood pressure rose.
Kira walked in a small circle and took a slow breath.
Jasmine didn’t reply.
the AI explained.
Kira stopped pacing.
Kira crossed her arms.
Kira wanted to scream at the AI for taking so long to explain.
That was it? The big explanation?
Kira shook her head.
Kira allowed the words to sink in.
the AI replied.
Kira shook her head.
Kira laughed.
Kira smiled.
CHAPTER 18
“Status!” Kaen ordered.
“No word from Kira or the Raven, sir,” the comm tech reported.
“I have detected no friendly signal within the alien ship,” Rianne added.
She should have been in touch by now. Kaen shifted in his seat.
Infiltrating any enemy compound always came with the risk that communications would be lost inside. Usually, there was some means to counter the interference. The device Kyle had designed should have allowed Kira to tap into the alien ship’s own communications array, but clearly something had gone wrong.
“Can you reach her telepathically?” Kaen asked Jason.
The Agent shook his head. “I’ve been trying, but the entire planet-ship is clouded with some sort of telepathic interference. I can’t pick her out from the din.”
Kaen groa
ned inwardly. With the communications blackout and no other sign, they had no way of knowing if Kira would be able to complete her mission, or even know if she was alive. Kaen only had his faith that she wouldn’t give up.
Regardless of his concern for her safety, they were out of time. The Trol ship would be visible in the Elvar Trinary within five minutes. Even if Kira were to make her exit at that moment, an explosion wouldn’t happen until it was well within visual range.
“Send the override order to the shield generators in the Elvar Trinary,” he instructed.
“Sent,” the comm tech confirmed.
Kaen slumped in his seat. “Now we wait.”
— — —
A warning flashed across Ellen’s computer monitor.
Is this it? She’d been waiting for the moment of truth—what, exactly, the Guard’s ‘visual disturbance’ would be with their alleged ‘test’. The warning about an offworld signal tapping into the control module for the shields indicated that she was about to find out.
She hit the comm on her desk. “Trisha, did you get the alert?”
“Yeah, the data packet is still downloading. It should be live in two minutes.”
“I’ll meet you in Ops Central.”
She jogged down the hall past the bullpen of cubicles to the bank of windows on the far wall, which overlooked the courtyard between the Mysaran government building and MTech headquarters. More importantly for the present, it offered a clear view of the sky through the top of the translucent biodome.
It was twilight, and the stars were beginning to show alongside two of Mysar’s three moons. The deep blue sky had a slight haziness to it from a nearby windstorm, but otherwise was perfectly clear.
“Anything yet?” Trisha asked, coming up behind her.
“No. I’m not even sure what to look for.”
“Maybe it will be nothing.”
Ellen shook her head. “I doubt that. The fact that they gave a warning at all means it will be significant. If anything, those kinds of announcements downplay the reality.”
Trisha crossed her arms. “Well, we distributed our press release about the ‘test’. I just sent an alert to the news networks that it was about to begin. It should be on every screen momentarily.”
Ellen peered down at the massive reader board above the MTech lobby entrance. Sure enough, there was a red crawler along the bottom of the viewscreen stating that a planetary shield test was in progress.
Murmurs of surprise sounded around the room.
She returned her gaze upward in time to see an opaque spot in the upper atmosphere above the city, which was slowly growing. It spread across the shield like a pool of paint flowing around a sphere. Wherever it covered, the light dimmed only a small measure, but the stars and moons were completely obscured.
“I was expecting some flickering!” Trisha exclaimed. “This…”
“I know why the Guard is doing it, but I don’t know how we explain this to the public.” Ellen shook her head.
“Why block out the night sky?”
“Well, on the one hand, they’re doing us a favor by hiding the planet-ship from view of the people on the surface. Dealing with the handful of people in the spaceport above the shield is way easier.”
“That’s true.” Trisha nodded. “But you think there’s another reason?”
“Yeah, the real reason. They’ve been evasive about how, exactly, they intend to take down that absurdly big ship. Whatever weapon they have that’s capable of that level of destruction, they don’t want anyone to know what it is—or that they even have it. If no one sees it, it’s hearsay.”
“I guess we’ll need to keep our mouths shut, too.”
Ellen released a long breath. “Sometimes it’s a burden, having more information than anyone else and needing to keep it to yourself. Personally, though, I’d rather keep a secret and know the truth than blindly follow on the outside.”
“I’m with you there.”
“Ma’am?” a tech said from one of the nearby cubicles. “Daily News has someone on the line asking to do an interview about this shield test.”
Ellen smiled at Trisha. “Why don’t you take this one?”
“I don’t know…”
“It should come from a local. If they interview me, it might make them more suspicious.”
Trisha sighed and nodded. “All right.”
“Come on, let’s jot down some talking points.”
— — —
Kira frowned at the code running through her mind.
Whenever she watched Kyle and Nia work on a hack, they’d made it look easy. As an AI, Jasmine had innate skill in computer-related endeavors, but the Trols’ programming language was as alien as their lifeform.
They’d already been working on it for fifteen minutes. The clock was ticking down too quickly.
The ground trembled, and a hole appeared five meters to the left. Descending into the depth was a perfectly formed spiral staircase, made of the same stone-like material that was present throughout the ship.
Kira gaped at the creation.
Without further delay, Kira raced down the stairs.
After the equivalent of twenty stories, her legs were burning, despite her augmentations. Rapid healing or not, she suspected she’d be feeling all the running around tomorrow.
She descended another fifteen stories before she finally spotted the bottom. To her right, she saw a surprisingly straight tunnel that faded into darkness.
Kira ran in the indicated direction, her movements feeling odd over the flat ground, after spending so much time on the stairs.
The left path led through a corridor with a ceiling curving above her fifteen meters up, transitioning into rippled walls. The floor was the same spongy covering of interwoven fibers that she’d encountered in the depths of the ship, and it gave extra bounce to her step as she ran.
After half a kilometer, the broad passageway flared outward into a chamber that dwarfed the others.
A central column of rock rose in the center of the chamber, adorned by what looked like petals of a blooming flower, crafted from the same stone. It towered at least a kilometer high, but Kira couldn’t get a clear reading on the top.
She jogged toward the central column, listening for any enemies that may be lurking in the shadows. In a space so large, anyone could be watching her without her knowledge.
The fibrous groundcover thickened closer to the column, and Kira was soon sinking in, up to the middle of her shins. Thanks to the field around her suit, the fibers moved from her path with every step. Without that, though, she feared it would be able to swallow her up in moments.
Kira’s vision distorted in a pixelated flash. When it cleared, there was an eerie purple glow to the environmental features around her. Some spots were bright, and others were almost black.
Kira nodded. It stood out from the others, both in brightness and thickness.
Kira slogged through the moss-like fibers toward the part of the bright conduit that appeared to be closest to the surface. When she reached out her hand, it sank into the bed of flexible fibers and then touched stone underneath.
The purple faded from her vision.
Sure enough, the conduit she needed to access was deep within the column, without any discernable access point.
