‘So what does this node do if it doesn’t actually help run the grid?’ asked Kaspar after a lengthy silence.
‘Apparently, it’s the backup of a backup for a utility that analyses demand for electrical power. It produces charts and histograms that allow better load-balancing and future planning for power stations. It is the world’s most boring computer node. It’s a nerdy lump of statistics of no importance.’
‘Then why is Rhea interested in it?’ frowned Kaspar.
Voss raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t go all civilian on me, Wilding. You ask that like you think I should know the answer.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ said Kaspar. ‘I don’t get it, though. Why expend all that time and energy on statistics?’
‘Tell you what, once we fry her arse I’ll be sure to put that at the top of my list of questions.’
‘Won’t she have the usual support team?’ said Kaspar. ‘There’s just the two of us.’
‘I don’t think she will. This place is way down everyone’s list of priorities. It doesn’t even make it onto our list of secondary targets. And because I’m a careful man, I’ve already got a unit responding to a substation alert just across the river. We do a target recce. If she’s alone – we go in. If she has support – we can whistle up reinforcements in under two minutes.’
Kaspar nodded. Finally this was coming together. He checked the emitter on his rifle, popped the power pack, wiped the terminals and slammed the battery back home, waiting for the maximum charge to build. Then he did the same for Voss’s weapon.
‘Time for answers,’ said Voss. ‘It’s payback time.’
Kaspar nodded grimly.
The rock in the pit of his stomach told him that tonight was going to change the course of the rest of his life.
43
Voss stopped the hovercar in a side street about two hundred metres away from the node and both men put on their tactical helmets, adjusting their multi-function goggles and respirators. Desperate Insurgents had been known to launch knock-out gas attacks, and occasionally worse, when cornered. Rhea was a formidable enemy – it would be incredibly foolish to underestimate her. Kaspar needed to stay sharp and focused. But his major concern wasn’t so much Rhea as Tilkian and the rest of his murdering crew. If they had got wind of what Rhea was up to, they might feel it was an ideal opportunity to cause more devastation and blame it on the Insurgents.
Kaspar and his commander stepped out into the evening chill. Kaspar inhaled deeply, welcoming a last lungful of cool night-time air into his lungs before snapping on the respirator. In the distance he could see the blue and yellow lights of the skyscrapers at the centre of Capital City. Round the corner, South Herdjis Lane was totally deserted.
Both men advanced slowly up the street, covering each other. At any moment Kaspar expected to come across an Insurgent lurking behind a bush, but there was no one. They both bypassed the bungalow and checked as far as the next junction, but there was no sign of an Insurgency support team. No vehicles, no signs, no noises, no infrared signatures, nothing. Kaspar wondered how Rhea had arrived without a vehicle, but she could have parked two clicks away and run in. Or she might not be there at all. The two Guardians stealthily retraced their steps until they reached the node.
Voss held up his hand and they stopped, one either side of the front door. Voss pointed at himself and then sliced the air with his hand at neck height indicating that he would go in high, then he pointed at Kaspar and made another slice at hip level, telling Kaspar to go low. Kaspar nodded. The street was so quiet. All Kaspar could hear was the faint whine of his rifle in his headset and the sound of his own breathing into the respirator.
Voss signalled – GO!
Kaspar leaned in and unlatched the door, Voss kicked it wide open and fired a wide-focus stun beam into the hall just in case there was anyone standing there – but there wasn’t. Kaspar stayed in a crouch, covering Voss, who stepped past him and advanced as far as the door that led into the main area where the computers were housed. As soon as he reached it, Voss fired another wide beam into the computer hall. His rifle hadn’t built to full charge yet – but then he didn’t want full charge. He didn’t need it, nor did he want the electro-magnetic pulse to fry the computer equipment. The shot was just to get anyone’s head down while Kaspar followed by lobbing in three rapid-dispersal gas grenades. They exploded together and the room was instantly filled with a dense cloud of luxothane-G gas that would incapacitate anyone for a couple of hours.
Once in the room, Kaspar headed left, while Voss turned right. They both had their goggles set to infrared mode so that they would be able see any heat signatures, but there was nothing. The tall cabinets that housed the computers partitioned the large room into half a dozen narrow aisles that would have to be checked one by one. Kaspar worked his way to the end, sweeping each aisle. Nothing. When he turned, he saw that Voss had found nothing either. As they both started to move back towards the door, the powerful computer-room air conditioning had already started to disperse the gas.
A warning tone in Kaspar’s headset and a small light in the peripheral zone of his goggles indicated that the room was now bright enough to see without infrared filters.
‘Go white,’ Voss ordered into his throat microphone.
Kaspar clicked off infra-red mode. Looking left, up the alleyway between two cabinets, Kaspar noticed something that he hadn’t seen in IR mode. Lying on the floor, in the centre of one of the big floor tiles, was a vacuum-lifter, a handle with two big suckers attached. When applied to a floor tile, the vacuum-lifter stuck like glue and allowed the attached tile to be lifted out so as to allow access to the underfloor cabling. A valve on the handle let air back into the suckers to break the seal. It was standard equipment in a computer installation, but this one had just been left in the middle of the floor. The maintenance guys were usually really anal about tidying stuff away. This looked like someone was still working.
Voss opened his mouth to speak, but Kaspar put his fingers to his lips to stop him, then signalled that Voss should look at the floor. Voss nodded and a few more silent signals were all it took to make their plan.
‘I told you this was a stupid idea,’ Voss shouted. ‘There are bombs going off all over and we’ve just wasted our time on a fool’s errand. Let’s get out of here and do some proper work instead of investigating your psychic hunches.’
The guy should have been an actor.
‘Sorry, sir,’ replied Kaspar. He pulled off his headset and throat mike and placed them on a nearby computer cabinet.
The two Guardians stomped noisily out of the computer room, leaving the door open, and headed along the hall. Voss opened the front door, before slamming it shut again. Both men then crept as stealthily as possible back to the computer room. With his headset off, Kaspar could hear nothing but the throb of the air conditioning, but Voss listened intently, his head cocked to one side and his finger pressing the earpiece deeper into his ear.
For a couple of moments there was nothing and Kaspar started to have doubts. Then Voss looked up at Kaspar and gave a quick thumbs-up. Both men slipped back in, rifles raised and ready, and started creeping back to where they knew they would find her emerging from the floor. Voss had the lead, and was nearly there when Kaspar heard a noise behind him.
Shit, he thought. She does have help. How did we miss that?
Now they were sandwiched, and he couldn’t alert Voss because he had no headset. Kaspar turned round to face the door and cover their rear. There was a commotion behind him, and he knew that things weren’t good.
There should have been a crack and a single flash of blue light as Voss stunned the unsuspecting ninja.
Instead?
Damn it! He was surrounded. Nobody had appeared at the door yet, so he risked turning away for a second. He whirled round just in time to see Voss kick the dagger from Rhea’s hand; then a secondary kick had her flying backwards up the aisle. He was trying to get enough distance between them so that he could b
ring his rifle to bear again, but she closed the gap between them with lightning speed. She twisted her upper body and her left leg spun out behind her, impossibly long, incredibly fast, looping around in a great arc. Her heel struck Voss on his left temple and he went down hard.
Kaspar sighted over Voss, but he had no clear shot. He swung the rifle round to check the door. No shot there either. Just then, he spotted someone in the hall. He nearly fired, but he recognized the toe of a Guardian’s boot and the emitter of a stun rifle.
Yes! Reinforcements! Voss must’ve sent for backup after all.
Relief flooded over him as he spun again to face Voss, moving swiftly towards him. He had to get to Rhea before she could kill herself. The fact that her dagger was lying on the floor would help, of course, but she probably still had a gun.
When he reached Voss’s body and peered round the cabinets, all he could see was her foot disappearing over the top of the cabinet.
‘Damn, you’re fast!’ Kaspar fired, but all he hit was the ceiling. Then he was in pursuit, running back round Voss to head her off before she could reach the door. There was a blue flash. Kaspar was just in time to see Rhea collapse. Her fall to the floor was the only thing Kaspar had seen her do that wasn’t graceful.
He kept running to her, and knelt to check her pulse. She was alive, but her pulse was thready and weak. He turned to the door to see who his unexpected backup was. It was a Guardian, of course, but Kaspar didn’t recognize him straight away. He was heavier-set and older than most of Kaspar’s colleagues, but he was familiar. Then the Guardian removed his HUD and Kaspar recognized him at once.
Tilkian.
Instantly Kaspar knew what had happened. They had been betrayed. Probably by one of the nerds. Even nerds could be bribed or blackmailed, or just plain threatened. Tilkian knew that he was suspected and had followed them here to make sure his secrets remained just that. Kaspar knew there was only one thing he could do. Hesitation would be fatal. He was younger, fitter and quicker – and Tilkian’s rifle wouldn’t have recharged yet. He threw himself backwards like a swimmer starting at backstroke, and while still lying on his back he took a snap-shot at Tilkian. The bright blue flash lanced out and struck the older man dead-centre. Tilkian didn’t move. In fact, he hardly blinked. He just stood there.
‘Wilding,’ said Tilkian. ‘Drop the weapon and stand up.’
Kaspar felt a little foolish. He had never known a person stay conscious after being hit by a charge from a stun rifle. Kaspar’s mind scrambled to think of something else – fast.
‘Guardian Wilding, apart from the fact that I’m wearing an electric-grounding mesh that makes me immune to your Mark Six light-show weapon, I’m also armed with the new Mark Seven stun rifle. During development, I believe they named it “electric napalm”. And on its highest setting it does more than stun. A lot more.’ Tilkian swung the rifle lazily towards Kaspar. ‘Now drop your weapon and stand up, unless you want to share your friend’s painful fate.’
Electric napalm – that didn’t sound good. ‘You’ve got it on its highest setting?’
‘Of course.’ Tilkian raised an eyebrow. ‘I knew who I’d be dealing with. Drop your weapon. I won’t ask you again.’
Kaspar reluctantly let go of his rifle and stood up. ‘Is Rhea going to die?’
‘Rhea? You’re on first-name terms with Insurgents now, are you? Don’t worry, she’s not going to die. That would be too easy. But the Mark Seven will ensure that she’s in constant agony. An agony from which she’ll never wake. A fitting end, don’t you think?’ Tilkian patted his rifle. ‘This baby is going to save us all that medical faffing around at the Clinic. Get hit with a blast from one of these, and once you go down you stay down and your body is racked with an intense pain from which there is no cure and no escape. Magnificent, eh? Now pick up the girl.’
‘Why?’
‘I will have to stage-manage this scene to an extent.’
‘I meant, why should I help you?’
‘Because I am offering you a gift.’
At Kaspar’s puzzled look, Tilkian smiled unpleasantly. ‘The gift of a rapid and relatively painless death.’
Thanks for nothing.
‘Why the generosity?’ said Kaspar, desperately searching for an escape route.
‘Because it suits us both, Guardian Wilding. My own selfish reasons are many. I won’t have to kill you myself, I won’t have to get your blood on my just-cleaned uniform, I won’t have to conceal that a Guardian was stunned with a stun rifle and committed to the North Wing. It just works all round.’
‘And why should I help you avoid a little blood?’ Kaspar said bitterly. ‘You’re already up to your ears in it.’
‘Would you really prefer to linger in a drawer in the North Wing, watching high-definition films of rape and torture and mutilation and murder for the rest of your miserable, painful, artificially prolonged life? If you like I could arrange for you to have the drawer next to your mother.’
Kaspar’s whole body froze momentarily as he realized what the commander was telling him. He lunged forward just as Tilkian took a step back, and swung his gun up to point directly at Kaspar’s head.
‘That’s far enough,’ said Tilkian.
Kaspar struggled to keep the revulsion off his face. His mum was at the Clinic . . . Or was Tilkian just playing with his head? ‘Is my mum really in one of the drawers in the North Wing?’
‘Of course. Traitorous bitch! I put her in there myself.’ Tilkian smiled.
‘I’m going to rip your heart out,’ Kaspar hissed.
‘You’re welcome to try.’ Tilkian shrugged.
It took every gram of restraint Kaspar possessed to hold back, but he knew Tilkian would own him before he’d covered even half the distance between them.
Think, Kaspar, damn it. Think!
‘Pick up the girl,’ Tilkian ordered, his smile fading. ‘I’m getting tired of telling you that.’
Kaspar moved slowly towards Rhea. ‘Why do you do it?’
‘What?’
‘Why do you murder your own? Are you part of the Insurgency, committed to their cause – or are you just a mercenary scumbag looking out for number one?’
Tilkian laughed. ‘I thought you were the research genius. I was led to believe you had uncovered all our little secrets. I’m disappointed.’
‘So educate me then.’
‘Don’t insult me by supposing we’re a part of the Insurgency, with their namby-pamby attitude to casualties.’ Tilkian spat contemptuously towards Rhea’s body. ‘Surely you didn’t think someone like her could have planned all those bombings? It seems that people have severely overestimated your intelligence. Now pick her up.’
Kaspar bent and picked up Rhea. She hardly weighed anything. As he straightened up, he said, ‘Just tell me one thing. Why?’
Tilkian sighed, as if he was being pestered by a child. ‘Why did the Insurgency start, Guardian Wilding? Do you know your history?’
‘Yes, I know my history,’ snapped Kaspar. ‘I know that you are tearing apart a society you swore to protect by gassing school children and bombing innocent people. I’d just like to know why?’
‘I think we’ll have her over here, near the door. Paralysed, while fleeing the scene of your murder.’ Tilkian moved back a step. ‘As you’re so good at history, Guardian, tell me about the origin of the Badlands.’
Kaspar frowned.
‘Keep working while you speak. You have a choice. If you don’t want to work, we can always just skip ahead to the dying part.’
Kaspar bit back his bitter retort. He started carrying Rhea past where Voss’s body lay.
‘Generations ago,’ he said wearily, ‘the misguided technical geniuses of the east planted nukes deep in the Earth so as to change the way that the tectonic plates moved and to create more land for themselves. It all went horribly wrong, their entire country was turned into a lava lake and about ninety per cent of them died.’
‘Actually, no. The death
toll was more like sixty-eight per cent – but go on.’
Kaspar’s brow furrowed. ‘So they lived as nomads for years until they built up their numbers and recovered to an extent. That’s when they started up the Insurgency, to take our land away from us because they’d destroyed their own.’
‘Wrong.’
‘Wrong?’
‘Very wrong, Mr Wilding. Your grasp of history is as tenuous as your grasp on everything else. After the volcanic cataclysm, the survivors were homeless and starving. There was a huge exodus and millions of refugees streamed west to escape the lava.’
‘West? To where? There’s just . . .’
‘That’s right. Here. Millions of refugees came here, to the place we call home – and they were allowed to settle in the south, near the Voren Lakes. A remarkable act of generosity, don’t you think? And they flourished. They became a nation within a nation.’
‘That’s not what I was taught. I don’t understand.’
‘No, of course you don’t. They rebuilt their scientific infrastructure really quickly. Secretly, of course. They weren’t trusted, and their access to nuclear materials was prevented. But they weren’t really interested in that kind of science any more. They had learned their lesson. Trying to manipulate the planet had been hubris, so in future their plans would be . . . more manageable. They started to develop a biological weapon. A binary virus, genetically engineered to be harmless to them but lethal to their enemies – their enemies being anyone who wasn’t one of them. And when the weapon was ready, they released it.’
Noble Conflict Page 21