The Ascension Myth Box Set

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The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 183

by Ell Leigh Clark


  Brock, stunned, got up. He dusted himself down and headed over to the cashier. “Right. Of course. Thank you.”

  He paid for the haircut and, half dazed, ambled out into the street. He saw Jack coming out of the restaurant across the way and met her on the street.

  “This way,” she muttered discreetly, leading the way back to the rendezvous point.

  Brock followed, eager to share his news as soon as it was safe.

  * * *

  Brock moved quickly down the corridor, trying to keep pace with Jack who seemed overly agitated.

  “Hey,” he called quietly. “Slow down! What’s going on?”

  Jack slowed just long enough for him to hear her speak. “Two station guards were talking into their earpieces and then looked our way out on the street. They’re following us.”

  Brock felt a shot of adrenaline plow through his system. “Shit.”

  “Exactly. We need to move.”

  With that, she increased her pace, making it more difficult for Brock to keep up. “By my ancestors, if I get out of this alive, I’ll spend more time in the gym. I promise!”

  He pushed his legs as fast as they could move without breaking out into a run. Jack disappeared around a corner ahead of him. He rounded it a few seconds later to see Molly, Pieter, and Joel waiting anxiously by the newsstand in the corner of a crossroads to several corridors leading to various docks. Molly saw him arrive and started moving the others to the next corridor.

  Brock approached. “They’re right behind me,” he hissed. Molly nodded and pushed him along to follow the others. When he turned back, he saw the guards had arrived around the corner, weapons drawn.

  Molly drew her pistol, too, and without a second thought, fired at the pair. One was hit and went down. The other ducked back behind the corner.

  “Run!” she ordered. Brock heard the others ahead of him break into a run. He followed, scared out of his wits.

  “Shiiiiiiiitttt!” he squealed involuntarily.

  Before he knew it, Molly was racing alongside him. “Come on. We’ve got to move. More are on their way.”

  As if to prove her point, a laser blast whistled past his ear, causing him to jump midstride and almost fall over. He kept running, his feet pounding deliberately on the ground to help him regain his balance.

  Molly had stopped and popped off several more shots. At the next corner, Brock glanced back to see her taking cover behind a recess in the wall, still shooting and taking down one guard at a time. He didn’t notice how many guards were coming after them now, but there was a lot of laser fire bouncing around the corridors.

  Panic flooded his whole body. He noticed the others disappear into a dock. He hoped it was the right one and then dove in after them.

  “Where’s Molly?” Joel demanded.

  Brock looked back at the door. “She was right behind me.”

  Joel waved the others onto the ship. “Emma?” he said hitting his comm, “get powered up and ready to leave. We’re under fire.” He turned to Brock. “Get on board. I’ll get Molly.”

  And with that, Joel pulled out his weapon from his leg holster and strode back out of the door and immediately started laying down fire.

  Brock shook his head in amazement and then followed the others up the invisible steps to get on board so they wouldn’t impede Joel and Molly’s path.

  Brock arrived in the cockpit and immediately started helping Crash prep for takeoff.

  “Emma, can you override the docking clamps?” he asked within a second of his butt hitting the seat.

  “Who are you talking to?” she teased confidently.

  “Okay, and how about helping those two get on board under fire?” he added.

  Emma’s visual representation appeared on the screen next to him. “Of course.” She winked.

  Molly and Joel emerged, walking backwards and shooting as they came into the dock. Joel slammed the dock door behind them and did his best to lock it. Then the pair raced up the stairs.

  “Emma, you’re up!” Molly shouted as she fell through the door of the ship, closely followed by a rather sweaty Joel, who had to step over her to get to safety.

  The door closed automatically behind them, just as the door to the dock opened and in spilled half a dozen guards: Skaine, Zyhn, and cyborg, all firing their weapons at the ship.

  Emma had already activated the shields and was decoupling from the dock.

  Brock glanced at his screen. “Uh oh,” he muttered.

  Crash gritted his teeth. “It’s okay. We can fly through it if we need to.”

  Molly scrambled to her feet and followed Joel into the cockpit.

  “What’s ‘uh oh’?” Joel asked.

  Molly was the one to respond. “It’s okay. Oz is on it. He just needs a minute.”

  “We haven’t got a minute!” Brock squealed.

  “Why?” Joel asked, raising his voice to be heard over the activity and panic. “What’s happening?”

  “It’s the door behind us,” Molly explained. “They’ve closed it to stop us escaping. Oz is working on the override.”

  The guard’s laser blasts hit against the ship’s shields, lighting it up in spots of green light which ran over the surface like spider legs before dispersing.

  Anytime now, Oz.

  Working on it…

  A moment later, The Empress pulled away from the dock, and everyone braced for impact with the sealed doors behind them.

  “Doors are opening!” Brock announced, checking the visuals on his screen. Crash remained silent, focused on the task at hand.

  Joel and Molly relaxed a little, watching with bated breath as the ship reversed out, the spider strikes of the forcefield still occurring regularly and depleting their reserves.

  Within a minute, they were out and punching a gate out of range of the station.

  “Fuck me, that was close!” Brock chuffed, visibly relieved and breathing hard.

  Molly laughed in relief and collapsed dramatically into one of the console chairs between Brock and Crash. “You’re telling me!”

  Joel noticed a tear in her jacket. “You’re hurt.”

  She glanced down. “Just a graze,” she muttered disinterestedly. She sighed and slumped back. “And another perfectly good atmosjacket ruined,” she added, realizing the implications.

  Brock glanced at her sideways. “That was done saving my ass. When we get back, I’ll take you shopping as a thank you.”

  Molly winked at him. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

  Brock grinned back at her. “Yeah. But we’re still going shopping.”

  “Hmm, something tells me you just want an excuse to shop.”

  He raised his eyebrows and wiggled them.

  They laughed, letting go of the tension of the operation.

  “But seriously, I think I discovered something about where to find Sean,” Brock said more seriously, swiveling around to face the center of the room and include Joel in the conversation.

  Joel perched on the anti-grav chair across from Brock. “What did you find?”

  “Well, it seems that Sean is being held somewhere in the next trading post. Something about tomorrow morning, he’ll be executed, though. In a church of all places.”

  Joel frowned. “Sounds… odd. What else do we know?”

  Brock shrugged. “Something about the other crime families being present to witness it. I’m guessing Sean has history in this sector… for the Don to want him.”

  “The Don?” Molly pressed.

  “Yeah?”

  “As in, a mafia crime family?”

  Brock pressed his lips together. “I guess. I couldn’t exactly interrogate the guy, though, so I’m kinda filling in the blanks.”

  The three of them sat in silence, contemplating the new intel.

  Crash chirped up, without turning around. “Got coordinates for the nearest trading post. Shall I get us there?”

 
“Yes,” Molly confirmed. “Thanks, Crash. But keep us out of weapons range while we check it out, though.”

  “Roger that,” he reported, punching the holocontrols to get them on their new course.

  “The rest of us need to regroup and then saddle up,” she announced. “Sounds like we’re going into battle. We’re going to need to arm up.”

  Joel was first on his feet again, rubbing his hands together fast. “Let’s do this,” he muttered with a tone of determination, leading the way out of the cockpit.

  Molly followed, all humor and relief now forgotten. It was game time.

  Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67

  The pod lifted up effortlessly, just like any other time they’d left the base. This time, it was different though: their mood, their mission, and the eerie feeling of being on a ghost base.

  Paige glanced over at Maya. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve got this.”

  “I know.” Maya smiled weakly. She looked out of the window as their pod made its way over to the opening hangar doors. “It’s just all so different without the others around. And what if something happens? We’ve no backup.”

  Paige checked her wrist holo then tapped the hardware. “We’ve got ArchAngel… in case of a real emergency. Even if we were to just dump a message on a monitored server, she’d respond as quickly as we need her to.”

  Maya rolled her lips, watching the base disappear beneath them as they headed for the doors. “Yeah. Not sure I wanna test that theory, though. It’s all a bit… hands off… for my tastes.”

  Paige nudged her playfully. “Check this out. Maya Johnson suddenly concerned about taking risks.”

  Maya shrugged. “Guess playing with a team has made me soft,” she agreed.

  Paige rubbed her friend’s arm, smiling in amusement. “We’ll be back on base before we know it,” she promised. “So, what did we find in terms of the best place to intercept Mr. August?”

  “Well,” Maya started slowly, “it wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I looked at his holo movements, and it doesn’t look like he’s going into the offices anymore.”

  Paige frowned, not quite comprehending. “What do you mean? He’s working from home?”

  Maya pressed her lips together firmly. “Not in that role,” she replied grimly. “He’s mostly been following a routine around his home, apart from going across town once a week and staying out half the night.”

  “You think he’s been fired?”

  The pod was now turning and heading off in the direction of Estaria, the onboard EI flicking up basic nav details on the screen and displaying the spacescape behind it on the translucent surface.

  “Looks like it,” Maya guessed. “I tried scanning company reports and announcements, but there was no mention of them changing their Editor in Chief.”

  “Would they?”

  Maya tilted her head from side to side. “Normally? Maybe. But in the wake of a takeover? Probably not. Not if they wanted to stabilize the stock price or keep the news for an announcement at another time when it might suit them.”

  Paige shook her head, grabbing onto the hand rail and turning herself to face Maya in the tiny pod. “Never ceases to amaze me… There’s just no way to get a bead on what’s really going on amongst all this intel.”

  Maya sighed. “I agree. It’s something that Oz was useful for. He’s so great when it comes to figuring out probabilities of what’s going on.”

  Paige almost imperceptibly shook her head, as if shaking the regret and wishing from her mind. “Okay, so where does that leave us in terms of our approach?” she asked, refocusing.

  Maya pulled up a holo of the area around Bob August’s residence to show Paige. “I figured we’d just show up at his apartment and maybe wait for him to emerge… if you didn’t want to ring the bell?”

  Paige shrugged. “I have no problem ringing the bell. He has no reason to turn us away.”

  “Unless he’s keeping a low profile and doesn’t want to be seen with us.” She narrowed her eyes conspiratorially.

  Paige wanted to tease her about her journalistic streak looking for sensationalism, but deep down, she knew it was a distinct possibility. “Right. Well, if that’s the case, we can make it more complicated and get a note to him or something. But let’s try the straightforward approach first.” She took a look at the map, carefully memorizing the key details.

  This could go sideways very easily, she reminded herself.

  Bob August’s Residence, Spire

  “Fuckwits!” he barked, standing in the doorway of his apartment.

  Maya noticed a pulsing at his throat. She found herself genuinely concerned about his blood pressure. “Forty-five years of service,” he ranted, “and they put me out on my ass like that!”

  Paige glanced nervously up and down the corridor. “You wanna invite us in? I’m sure you don’t want your neighbors to know—”

  “Sod the damn neighbors. They can all know for all I care. In fact,” he waved his finger like a warrior, “I want the world to know how they’ve treated me! And it’s not just me, you know?” He wandered away from the door and disappeared into the apartment.

  Maya looked at Paige with comically raised eyebrows. “So much for needing a delicate, covert approach,” she teased as the pair took it as an invitation to follow him in.

  They headed down the hallway into the living area which looked out onto the street four stories below.

  Maya glanced at Paige, communicating intuitively that she would take the lead on the interview. Paige didn’t need to do anything to confirm the move. “So, Bob, what happened?” Maya asked in her most soothing voice possible.

  Bob was pouring a drink. He turned, waving his hands absently, still wired. “New exec team moved in, moved me out. Put some woman in my place.”

  Paige stifled a smile. She could tell it wasn’t about her being female. There was something else going on.

  “Who?” Maya pressed, back in investigative mode like a duck taking to water.

  Bob took a swig of his whiskey and shook his head in dismay as he swallowed. “Some Rosaline Porter. Helviti knows who she is, though. Never heard of her on the circuit before she showed up at my office the day they told me the news.”

  Maya frowned. “So, she doesn’t have any experience?”

  “Don’t think so. Unless she was a hot shot on Ogg, and we’ve just never heard of her.”

  Maya took a note on her holo. “Interesting,” she muttered. “You heard anything about how things are being run there now?”

  Bob started to simmer down. “Not really. They’ve gotten rid of a few of the guys, and everyone’s obviously pissed about the change. Making them do weekly meetings, whether they’re out in the field or what not. Plus, they’ve cut all funding for asset development.”

  Paige frowned at Maya questioningly.

  “We had an allowance for hotels and paying informants when we were chasing a story,” Maya explained. She paused. “You know, without that, it won’t be long before there are no real stories to talk about. I mean, the investigative journalism department was already thin on the ground from the old days. That all but wipes it out.”

  Bob grunted something incoherent then coughed. “You’re telling me! It’s going to the dogs, that place. You mark my words.”

  He turned to pour himself another drink. Maya appeared next to him, took the bottle off him, and placed it gently back on the counter. “Hey, Bob, you know, there may be more to this than just a hostile takeover for money.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I can’t go into details, but we’ve found indicators to suggest there’s something bigger going on here.”

  “Bigger? Like what?” His brow furrow turned from one of anger to one of serious contemplation. The editor in him seemed to reawaken to the scent of a story.

  “Like…” Maya glanced furtively at Paige. Paige blinke
d slowly, giving her the go ahead. Maya continued. “Like, a larger agenda. I tracked the payments to Info Corp. I think there’s a political move going on. What would help us narrow it down is to find out any specifics about what’s changed in the news runs. You know, like what stories are being pushed from the top office. What stories are being shut down or relegated to fewer eyes. What changes are being made to the algorithms in the tech department. That kinda thing.”

  Bob listened intently. “I think I understand,” he relayed slowly. He moved around the kitchen counter where he had an old-school pen and paper. He scribbled some notes. “There are a few people I can probably talk to.” He hesitated. “Might take me a while. I’d need to do it on the down low… and take precautions.”

  Maya nodded gravely. “Of course. I know how it can get.”

  Bob raised his eyebrows at her. “I know you do,” he said pointedly. “Which also means that if there is something going on, we need to be careful. You can’t be seen down here again. We can set up some protocols so that I can feed what I find back to you, but no more direct contact.” He looked at her sternly. “You shouldn’t even be here today.”

  Maya smiled, once again feeling like the little girl that had wandered into his newsroom all those years ago, looking for a job. “I know,” she admitted. “But… it’s been so long, and…”

  Bob stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said gently, holding her tightly.

  Paige shifted her weight awkwardly, not wanting to spoil the moment but also not wanting to break it up by leaving.

  Bob released Maya and held her at arm’s length. “Look, kiddo, this hasn’t been safe since the Jessica Newld fiasco. You don’t wanna be caught up in whatever is going down here now, so promise me you’ll get out of here and stay out of harm’s way? I’ll get you what I can, but you stay safe, agreed?”

  Maya started to protest, but Bob silenced her with a glare. “I mean it, Maya. We didn’t go through all that for you just to get picked off by one of these corporate hustles.”

  Maya nodded obediently. “Okay. I’ll stay off-world unless I need to be here on a mission then.”

  That seemed to satisfy Bob. He looked over at Paige, still not releasing Maya from his hands. “You’ll see to it?” he asked.

 

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