When he made it to level eleven the cold had started to take its toll. His whole body was shivering and he wasn’t sure if he could even hold the Colt, much less pull the trigger. He squatted down and reached for the small box, a gift from Koba, that was in a pocket on the back of his suit. At this point he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, but he was fairly sure he had the box. He thought he could feel it against his back. He stood up and his legs cramped and the full weight of his body fell against the railing. Pain shot through his side as his head and upper body teetered over the edge. He could see the wet ice below and he knew if he fell, even if he survived the fall, he’d die of the cold. He pulled himself back and fell onto the metal platform, cursing under his breath.
The plan was to make it inside without using the suit warmer, but that wasn’t going to happen. If he fumbled the little box over the edge he’d have to break his way in and then he’d be dead. If he couldn’t fire the gun because his fingers didn’t work he’d be dead. If he fell over the edge he was dead. Shite on it, he thought.
He touched both index fingers to his chest and waited. Soon his whole body felt better, like he had suddenly jumped into a warm bath. He paused there for a few minutes and soon his breathing slowed and his legs seemed to work again. He stood and reached behind his back for the box with suddenly warm, nimble fingers.
Then he pressed the door button and when the id scanner popped out he put the little black rectangle over it and waited. It clicked and hummed, the door light flashing green, then red again, then green. Jolo pushed on the door and it opened, and he was in. He touched his suit again to turn off the warmer, hoping he hadn’t used too much juice, and stepped into the corridor. He pulled up the schematic and headed for the end of the hall, the Colt out in front just in case.
Inside, he could hear a steady grinding noise, almost like he was standing on one of the tower drills. The white floors and walls were perfectly clean and the air was warm and smelled like a med bay. The main bank of logic arrays should be two down on the right. He headed in that direction, but before he got there he heard voices coming from a connecting corridor at the other end of the hall. He started to run to it thinking to get a closer shot, but then remembered that’d be a bad idea and instead plastered himself against the closest door, which was set into the wall about ten centimeters. Most of his body was in full view, but he stood there, holding his breath. A BG Lord and two more Jaylens walked past. The black mech was so tall it had to hunch down, its heavy, metal foot pads clanking against the floor. Jolo gripped the Colt with sweaty fingers, but the black beast and the blond girls walked past without a glance in his direction.
Jolo stepped into the logic array room and there, between two large banks of computers, wires snaking between, was a Jaylen. She was sliding a board into the array near the floor. “Did you bring the conduit feeders?” she said. She looked right at Jolo, her head tilting, a confused expression on her beautiful, synthetic face. For a split second Jolo thought of his Jaylen, and he paused. And then she started to stand, her eyes narrowing, staring right through the blend suit, but then Jolo raised the Colt and fired. The gun made a muffled THMMMP sound and her legs lost power and she fell to the ground like a human, but that’s where the similarity ended—no blood anywhere, and a slight whiff of smoke slipping out of the hole in her forehead. Jolo dragged her to the corner of the room and waited. Soon enough, another Jaylen came holding a box. She took two steps in and another THMMMP brought her down. And Jolo leaned her up against the other one.
He accessed Koba’s instructions on his computer and found an open port and inserted the small memory chip. This was the moment of truth.
Koba said one of two things should happen: either the virus would get into the system and shut the whole operation down, one section at a time, which would send all of the slaves to their quarters and have the BG technicians chasing down phantom hardware issues, giving Jolo a nice bit of chaos in the machine to find Barthelme; or nothing, in which case things got a bit dicier for the solo half-human armed with a Colt against an ice-harvester full of BG workers, Jaylens and one big Mech Lord.
“There are two different computer systems on the Mark IV, depending on where it was made,” said Koba. There’s no time to program two so we’re going to go with an educated guess as to which one it is.”
“What if you guess wrong?” said Jolo.
“Then its up to you if you want to go through with it,” said Marco. “If you need to bail out just take the homing beacon and get off the ice harvester. The suit will keep you warm until the Argossy comes.”
If the program worked the lights would go out and many of the core systems would start failing one by one. A repair team would be sent from Holsted, but it’d take them at least 36 hours to get there and then they’d have to find the bug.
If Koba guessed wrong then Jolo would have to find Barth and get him out with the lights on and all security systems active. If they spotted him he’d have attack drones roaming the hallways that wouldn’t be fooled by the suit.
Jolo jumped on top of one of the logic arrays and waited. It was a few meters off the ground and he had a clear view of the door. If anyone came he could take them out before they knew he was there or he could just lay still and let the suit do its thing.
Fifteen minutes later and the lights were still on and the harvester was still moving. No signs of Koba’s virus taking effect. He sat up and let his legs hang off the side. George had given him a 7.2% chance of success if the virus didn’t take effect. He wanted to forget that number, but couldn’t. With the virus in action and all hell breaking loose he had a 41.7% chance.
Jolo thought back to his last moments with Katy. Right before he crawled into the drone. “You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Duval needs Barth,” said Jolo.
“Don’t do it.”
“I have to.” And then he gave her a hug. “For Duval,” he said, which was a lie. He was doing this for himself. Barth had pulled him out of a hole once, and now he would do the same for him.
Jolo jumped down onto the floor, pulled out the Colt and whispered to himself, “Stealth mode. The gun is a last resort.” Then he stepped into the white hallway again headed for the lower levels. It was time to find Barthelme.
Barthelme
Aboard the ice harvester Titan IV in Sotec
26 days left
Jolo jogged down the hall, slipped out the door into the cold and headed back down the stairs. The slaves would be on the lower levels collecting ice. The brain trust had guessed there would be a dozen or so slaves on the big harvester. On the way down, Jolo paused at level seven, a large room filled with Jaylens, all manning control screens. A towering BG lord stood in the middle staring into a large vid screen just like most space ships. There was a data feed on the left side and the right side was a split screen with a forward view of the ice and a rear view of brown rubble left behind.
At the fourth level down Jolo noticed the windows were dirty and he could make out humans moving around below. The machines were loud and he could hear other voices, not the high-pitched Jaylens, but the tired groans of men. He slipped inside and found himself on a high walkway staring right down into the heart of the operation. Levels 1-4 were actually one big room, the only thing marking the different floors were the narrow walkways next to the walls. Jolo scanned the room and spotted two Jaylens and a hover bot 50 meters or so off to the rearward side, staring down into the mess of men and machines in motion on the rocky, wet earth below.
The men were dressed in rags, and even the ones actually on the ground under the harvester, the ones Hurley told him were called rock humpers, had little protection against the cold. Their job was to make sure no big chunks of rock or earth got mixed in with the ice that was constantly being fed into the processors via large conveyors. He watched the tired men stumble along, with brown cloth wrapped around their feet, heaving rocks into a big container. Jolo saw a large man and thought for a moment it was his o
ld engineer, Barthelme, but the man had two arms.
Hurley said the worst job fell to the trackheads minding the wheels. The harvester used a continuous track propulsion system, which was a series of alacyte track bands, each driven by three giant wheels. There were eighteen total track wheels so even if a few broke down, the Titan would keep on rolling along. The trackheads had to be small and fast and were usually children, and they didn’t last very long.
Jolo spotted one small trackhead with a large crow bar darting back and forth between the giant wheels. Suddenly a rock got caught between the belt and a wheel and the whole thing jammed and the Jaylens instantly started yelling. So the little person jumped on top of the track band, jammed the bar in next to the rock, then leaped out to the end of the long rod, clinging on with hands and legs, using all of his weight to pry the rock loose.
When the rock broke free, the child slammed into the ground dangerously close to the wheels and the track band. One tiny hand in the dirt just under the wheel, but somehow he got it out in time. And that was when Jolo realized it was a girl. Her hair was tied in a pony tail in back.
The whole time ice was being lifted into the upper processing levels and the rocks were crushed and spit out the back. Just as Jolo was about to search level 5 a large rock broke one of the forward wheel tracks and again the Jaylen’s started yelling. Two men tried to heave it up and into the big container. One of the men climbed up onto the edge of the container and pulled as the other man pushed. The rock finally gave way and fell into the big rock crusher, but the man went with it. The other man cried out and reached into the big container trying to pull him out.
Jolo thought to take out the two Jaylens and rescue the men but thankfully, finally, one of the Jaylens looked at the hover bot and pointed down at the men. The bot darted straight for the men and Jolo sank back against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. By then the second man was perched on the edge of the big rock container, one hand holding onto the first man, who was about to be swallowed up and crushed, the other reaching up for the bot to lift them both out. The bot hovered over both men for a second, its forward ocular sensors blinking, but instead of giving the man a handhold, Jolo saw a thin red flash as it cut the man’s arm off and he, too, fell into the rock hopper. Both men screamed and cried out. Jolo could see blood spurting out of the man’s arm as the rock crusher sucked him under. Both the Jaylens were laughing.
Jolo couldn’t stand it anymore. He ran down the length of the platform, took out the two Jaylens, then leaped over the rail and dropped four stories down into the pit, firing three shots at the bot before landing in the rocky, wet mess. On the third shot the bot lost power and fell straight into the crusher. Sparks and metal pieces flew into the air when the teeth of the crusher shredded it. Jolo scrambled up to the top of the hopper, stared down into the mess of rock and blood, angry at himself for hiding when he should have been doing something. Both men were gone. Spit out the back of the harvester. The was an ear-splitting BOOM as the power cells of the bot exploded, bits of rock and metal shot out and landed on the ground. There goes my element of surprise, thought Jolo.
The little girl jogged next to the container, eyes forward, with no emotion.
“Hey!” Jolo yelled at her. But she did not look his way. “Hey,” he yelled again. And this time she turned. Her eyes cold and lifeless. “Where is the big man with one arm?” She pointed up and then ran to the other side of the hopper, as far away from him as she could be. “Stay alive. I’m coming back for you,” said Jolo. By then several other men had come to take the place of the two dead rock humpers.
Jolo jumped up to level 2 and took the outer stairs again to level 5, where he hoped to find Barthelme.
A warning klaxon blared out in one second intervals, red lights flashing in time, as Jolo stepped into the large room on level 5. There were ten humans lying on the floor, a med bot hovering over. A Jaylen walked in and Jolo backed up against the wall and froze.
“Are these the ones with diminished production numbers?” she said to the bot.
Just then a security drone zoomed in and scanned the humans, then started to scan the Jaylen and she slapped it away. “Get out, you stupid little metal box, can’t you see I’m busy actually doing something useful?”
The bot responded inaudibly with a direct link to the Jaylen’s computer.
“There are no intruders here,” said the Jaylen, looking around the room, her eyes sweeping right past Jolo. “So leave, before I make some modifications to your circuits,” she said, waving a red energy blade under the little round security drone. It gained altitude, then left through a hole in the ceiling.
Some of the men on the floor were still and quiet, their faces a gray color, their dull, lifeless eyes fixed on some random point in space. But about half of them were still alive. Jolo could see their chests rising and falling with each labored breath.
The Jaylen started on one end, the med bot displaying the vitals of each man. The first one was dead and the Jaylen kicked his foot with her boot and yelled, “Recycler!” and another bot flew in and sunk two sharp, blood-stained hooks into his chest and lifted him up, ribs cracking as the weight of his body pulled against the hook points. The bot struggled to gain lift, the man’s arms and legs dangling, and disappeared into a hole in the wall on the far side. The man’s hand was too low and slapped against the wall, the bottom edge of the hole smudged brown and red.
Jolo carefully eyed each man, hoping to find Barthelme among the living, but he wasn’t there. He knew Barth would look different, but these men were skin and bone and Barth was a big man. The next man in the row was moving and groaning. The Jaylen stared at the bio readout displayed by the med bot, which showed his vitals. She frowned. “Four months of usage. Flag this one. We need to pinpoint where the duds come from and avoid those areas. Probably some cushy Fed core planet. What a waste of resources.” She tapped on the virtual screen and then yelled, “Recycler!” Jolo watched as the recycler bot headed their way again and then another man started moving. Like the others he was rail thin, and had gray hair. Jolo could only see his left arm, the other covered by the man laying next to him. But then suddenly the gray haired man moved again, grimacing in pain, and lifted up his other arm.
It was a black, mechanical arm, scratched and dented from years of use. The man held it up and reached out with his three mechanical fingers.
Barthelme.
At first Jolo didn’t believe it. How could this be? Had they taken Barth’s arm and attached it to another man? Jolo’s heart was racing and his breaths suddenly came in fast gulps. Meanwhile the recycler bot had almost made it to the second man in line. Jolo wasn’t going to be late this time. He didn’t care if he was risking the entire mission. He jumped out and put a hole in the Jaylen’s head before she knew what was happening. Then another two, THMMP, THMMP rounds into the recycler bot. It crashed down, red-brown hooks scratching across the floor. The med bot started beeping and gained altitude but Jolo told it to come back.
And amazingly, it did.
“Start here,” he said. “Pointing to Barthelme. Give him fluids and a shot of adrenaline.” Jolo knelt down and held Barth’s good hand. He looked into his eyes and knew it was him. All the old man could do was blink. He wanted to say something, but didn’t have the strength. “Hurry!” he yelled at the bot.
The bot inserted a large needle into Barthelme’s chest and suddenly his eyes popped open and he sucked in a huge gulp of air. There was no time for the fluids so Jolo told the bot to take care of the living men the same way. One concern before he left was if Barthelme couldn’t walk, how would he move the big man. But that was no concern now. He looked to weigh as much as skinny Koba. Jolo scooped up his old engineer and started running for the door. Three Jaylens appeared on the opposite side and he paused, still holding Barth over his shoulder and waited a moment for the three blond synths dressed all in white to make it to his side of the walkway. As soon as they turned towards him he took the first on
e out. The other two jumped in different directions. He wounded another with a second shot, then holstered the gun and ran out the door. He climbed two flights of stairs, then set Barth down and grabbed the small switch from his suit.
He pressed the button and nothing happened.
“Shite!” he yelled. But a few seconds later there was a fantastic BOOM from high above as the giant turrets blew. He could hear one of the turrets breaking off the top level as the weight of the giant barrel sheared itself off the mount.
Barthelme had started to moan and wave the mech arm. “I got you,” said Jolo, picking him up again, heading for the top. Barth groaned with each step Jolo took. Jolo made it to level 12 and was nearly out of breath, and even with his strength and stamina, he had to pause for a second. He looked through the window and the Jaylens that were plugged in earlier were now gone.
He got to the top and set Barth down near the homing beacon. Then he checked the cannons, and all had either been blown completely off or the long barrels were hanging limply by burned shreds of metal.
Barth yelled and Jolo turned and felt a pain in his side. Two Jaylens were on him up close and he couldn’t get to his gun. Another shot of pain to his ribs as one of the Jaylens tried to get a knife in him but was thwarted by the suit. He brought his right hand down to grab the gun and one of the hot energy blades raked across his cheek and he could feel the blood dripping down his neck.
He shot one, but the other pushed him down and the damn red knife was coming for his face and he couldn’t get either hand up to protect himself. He closed his eyes, but instead of feeling the blade he heard a scream.
The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Box Set Page 30
