by H C Edwards
She looked eager to be off and finished with this miniscule task, but Claire knew she would never see the woman again and she needed some sort of answers.
“That thing they’re…we are building…” she trailed off.
“What about it?”
Claire licked her lips.
“What exactly is it?”
Amanda smirked.
“I’ve been asking myself that same question these past few months. No one has the whole picture, except maybe a handful of engineers, and they aren’t talking. Best thing I can figure is it’s some sort of self-contained habitat, but…”
“But?” Claire pressed.
“But if it is,” Amanda continued thoughtfully. “It’s supposed to be mobile.”
“How do you know that?”
“Look,” Amanda said, and Claire could tell that she was slightly frustrated discussing the subject. “I don’t really know anything, but my specialty is magnetic propulsion systems. That’s why I normally work with the trains, except for when we started this project I was put in charge of installing superconducting and propulsion coils along the hull of that thing out there, as well as installing magnetic levitation rails along the tracks.”
“That thing is a train?” Claire asked incredulously.
The other woman shrugged.
“I don’t know, but that track at the end of the tunnel is only a few kilometers long…and it goes straight up through the mountain.”
Claire didn’t know how to respond. She thought of the cylindrical objects she had seen rise out of the desert floor, disappearing into the canopy of clouds, destination unclear, but there had always been the hypothesis that they were headed for space, though for what purpose had always eluded her.
“Let’s get this thing done and we can break for lunch,” Amanda offered. “Who knows, maybe we can put our heads together and figure that thing out.”
“Sure, that sounds good.”
After Amanda walked away, Claire hit the button to close the door to the engine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered after the departing figure, and then pressed forward on the velocitator and the flux, flipping the lever on the brake as well as the switch that kept her at minimum speed.
The Maglev-Train lurched ahead hard enough to make her stumble back into the chair behind her. A couple of seconds later and she was whizzing down the tunnel, leaving The Mountain behind.
“Sara! Sara, what the hell happened? Do you copy?”
Claire, startled, looked around the small cabin then realized that Amanda had turned on the communications system. She considered responding but thought it best to keep silent. Instead of answering she flicked on the auto-pilot and sat back in the seat.
“Sara!” the voice said again, this time followed by a burst of static. “You need to hit the auto-pilot switch and-”
This time a longer burst of static cut out the rest.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, truly so.
“What?” Amanda responded, her voice sounding faint but still audible.
Damn, Claire thought. She should have known not to reply out loud.
“You’re the one they’re looking for,” Amanda replied.
Claire felt her heart leap. She knew that it wasn’t possible to stop the train from the small control room behind her, but that didn’t mean that a warning couldn’t be sent ahead. There had to be some sort of protocol or emergency shutoff in the trade hub.
“Amanda, listen to me,” Claire said, using the most direct and candid voice she could muster. “I know you don’t know me, but I don’t belong here. Whatever they say I am or did is a lie.”
She paused, but instead of a reply there was a soft undercurrent of static.
“I was brought here against my will. Please, let me go home,” she pleaded, in case Amanda could still hear her.
Just then she burst out of the tunnel and into the main hub, a much larger cavern with several crisscrossing rails overhead and at least half a dozen branching tunnels. Her Maglev-Train was still gathering speed, but slow enough to see all the astonished faces as dozens of people stopped to turn and look at her. She tried to appear nonchalant but it was very difficult with all the staring faces, especially when the guards started to approach her train.
Thankfully, the trip across the hub lasted only a matter of seconds. Once in the tunnel, she turned to look back, noticing that a few people had started to run; where, she didn’t know but she was pretty sure it was to stop her train. There was only the briefest glimpse of this activity and then she lost sight of it.
Feeling a slight panic creeping on, Claire cursed to herself and flicked the auto-pilot switch off, then cranked the velocitator all the way up.
She was not prepared for the g-force that slammed her into the chair, pressing her arms and legs down as if invisible hands were holding her tight
Helpless, Claire watched the readout go from 35kph to 400kph in a matter of seconds. When it peaked at 426, she felt a little give in her limbs. Groaning with the effort, she reached out with her hand and pulled back on the velocitator, the g-force abating enough that she didn’t feel as if a person was sitting on her chest. She watched as the numbers smoothed out at 330, and felt it was reasonable enough that she could stick with it.
She didn’t know if she was in the clear but the foreman had not shut off the rails on her end. Either she had heard Claire’s plea or perhaps it wasn’t something applicable on her end once the train was running. Either way, she felt that she could afford a small sigh of relief.
Flicking the switch back to auto-pilot and thumbing off the communications system, she leaned back in the seat, head facing the ceiling. She knew the tunnel wasn’t a straight shot to Akropolis, but she had seen the maps before and knew that it was roughly 560 miles give or take. That meant she could arrive in a little over two hours.
She could close her eyes a bit, maybe rest for a few minutes. Her body was exhausted, her mind spent. She’d never felt this drained before in her life, and she knew it was far from over. Once she arrived in Akropolis she would have to hide somewhere, perhaps even in the Waste Belt, but that would only be temporary. She had to find someone she could trust, or at least, someone who would listen to her wild story.
All those people left behind.
Claire didn’t know who they were or why they were there, but she was going to do whatever it took to expose what was happening in The Mountain, and to free those people.
With this thought held firmly in her mind, Claire finally closed her eyes, and was almost instantly asleep.
The Plan
Misao and her guard stood on the deserted street of sector 13 in the Waste Belt. She had tracked down transportation logs for the woman called Mia Zhuk and accessed her personal profile. She read some meager bits of information that did nothing to establish motive, but at least there was a picture for identification purposes.
The last time Mia used a transport it had been here, and Misao could see why. It was a cornucopia of hiding places, as long as one could mask their quantum signature, which the woman had obviously learned. The question was how?
“When was the last time you tried pinging her location?” she asked the two guards at her side.
They had been on the patrols sweeping the area for the past twenty-four hours, coming up with nothing more than what they started with, the spot where the woman had exited the road and left the transport.
“A couple of hours ago,” said the young guard, a somewhat thin and reedy adult whose scruff was grown to add the weight of years. “But same as before. We didn’t get anything.”
“Did you try circulating her picture?”
The young guard glanced at his partner, an unspoken exchange.
“Well?” Misao pressed impatiently.
“No, Ma’am,” the younger guard spoke up. “The council decided it was best that we keep this as low profile as possible.”
“Of course,” she responded, a bit disappointed but accepting.<
br />
There would have been questions, and unanswered questions invariably led to speculation, of which they didn’t need at the moment.
Misao couldn’t for the life of her recall a moment when the ASF had ever been looking for a synthetic. Of certain there was the occasional human that needed to be reeled in or brought up on minor charges that usually stemmed from altercations or perhaps damage to property; maybe even a domestic dispute here and there, but never a synthetic. It was just unheard of.
“You,” she turned to the younger guard who looked barely into his twenties. “What’s your name?”
“Me?” the guard asked uncomfortably.
“I’m looking at you, aren’t I? What is your name?”
“Um, Todd,” he mumbled. “Todd Mackie.”
“Okay, Todd, did you guys sweep the buildings as well or just the streets?”
“Well,” the young man said, licking his lips nervously. “It‘s only been us and another patrol. We don’t really have the manpower to do a full sweep.”
“So just the streets then,” she confirmed.
When Todd nodded his affirmation she frowned.
“Great.”
Misao put her hands on her hips, a habit of hers picked up from her mother. It was her way of gearing up to tackle the problem.
Looking left to right, Misao began to walk down the street, recalling the brief information she had read in the woman’s file.
Mia Zhuk was a recruit, brought in from The Mountain sanctuary over twenty years ago, daughter of an engineer with an aptitude for machinery drafting. She had been paired up with another breeder, a Tom Zhuk, building architect and victim apparently. There had been a couple of years of marriage before the vehicular accident that led to the woman’s death. There was also a brief annotation that stated the woman was pregnant at the time.
Misao could only imagine what that must have been like, being revived after such a loss. What state of mind would that create? Was there guilt, pain, anger? How did that lead to murder after twenty plus years?
A few blocks in, Misao stopped abruptly, a metal recycling plant to her left and a yard of separated metals to her right, replete with conveyor belts and magnetic separation drums.
She stared hard at a particular section, a giant drum attached to a belt, and tried to ascertain what had stopped her. It took a moment before the realization struck her that the drum was missing a large portion of the copper plating that shielded the electromagnets inside from EMI waves, plating that could also be used to block quantum signatures.
Without looking around to the two guards, Misao addressed the younger first.
“Todd, you come with me,” she said.
“And me?” said the other guard gruffly.
Misao didn’t like him. He had a condescending air about him that transferred to his expressions.
She pointed to the opposite side of the street where the actual recycling plant lay dormant.
“Sweep the building,” she directed. “Just the levels above ground. Stay in contact if you find anything.”
He merely grunted and walked off.
Misao motioned with her hand and walked past the piles of separated recyclables, heading straight for the drum. As she reached it, she noticed a steel rebar on the ground. Squatting on her haunches she looked at the slightly bent tip, then stood and closely inspected the drum.
On the left side there was a gouge of dented metal, what could have been caused by the rebar. On the ground were rivets that had been popped. It appeared as if the copper plating had been peeled off the drum. It would take a person of considerable strength to accomplish that feat, or an average synthetic.
Misao walked a half-circle around the drum, inspecting the ground. It didn’t take long to spot some gouges on the concrete, as if something heavy had been dragged for a short distance before being picked up. She knelt down and followed the short path of the scratches. They looked to be heading towards a small warehouse behind the piles of recyclables, a storage facility no doubt for the materials that were waiting to be brought across the street and melted down at the plant.
“Do you have your rifle at the ready?” Mia asked, not willing to take any chances.
“I have a standard issue EMP baton-” Todd started to explain before she cut him off.
“That’s not what I asked,” she said, slightly crossed.
She didn’t mean to snap, but the fact that they were searching for a murderer made her feel on edge, afraid even, she had to admit, if only to herself.
The young guard put away his baton and pulled his rifle on its strap off his shoulder, powering it on. The blue lights clicked up the gauge and then turned green, signifying that it was locked and loaded. It fired concussive rounds that would knock out a human instantly and could drop a synthetic to the ground with a single shot, stunning them long enough to use the baton up close, but it also fired live rounds as well. She noticed that Todd had switched to the lethal ammo, and didn’t correct him.
Misao felt slightly better that the young guard looked comfortable handling the rifle. She pointed at the warehouse.
“Be on alert when we go in there,” she said warily, before leading the way.
“Ma’am,” Todd said. “I mean, Councilwoman.”
Misao stopped and turned.
“Yes?”
“Respectfully, I think I should go first.”
She glanced briefly over her shoulder at the darkened warehouse.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she acquiesced, moving aside to let the young man take point.
He pulled his rifle up to the ready and walked slowly towards the small warehouse. Both of them noticed upon closer inspection that the sliding door was open just a bit. The fact that it wasn’t closed or locked wasn’t that surprising. Nobody would come to steal recyclable materials, or really anything these days, but based on the circumstances it put the two of them on alert.
“I’ll make certain it’s clear,” Todd whispered. “Then I’ll call you in.”
Misao licked dry lips and nodded.
The young guard reached out with a hand, pushed the sliding door open further, clicked on a button that sent a bright light along the barrel, and then entered the dark warehouse. Mia couldn’t hear the shuffling of his feet but she did see the light sweep across the doorway a few times. After about ten seconds, she heard Todd’s voice.
“It’s clear. Come on in.”
Misao entered and found the guard standing in front of the copper plating that had previously housed the drum. It had been bent into a crude tent-like shape, large enough for a person to crawl into.
“This is how she shielded herself from your pings,” she said pointing.
“What is it?”
“Copper plating; crude but effective. Do you have an extra light?”
He reached into his pocket and clicked on a small but bright hand light.
“Here.”
She took the proffered tool and swept the inside of the drum, then the floor around them.
“What size boot do you wear?” Misao asked him.
“A ten…why?”
“Look here,” she replied, pointing with the light. “Do you see there in the dust…the slight imprints? Looks like someone else was here, maybe a couple of people. This track is huge, twelve or thirteen I’d guess. The others are smaller, maybe the same person, it’s difficult to tell.”
“What are you saying?” Todd asked.
“I’m saying she may have arrived by herself, but she didn’t leave alone.”
Just then a bit of static burst from the comms speaker on the young guard’s chest. Both of them jumped at the sound.
“I found something,” said the gruff voice of the other guard. “Might want to come have a look at this.”
“The woman that we’re looking for,” Todd said hesitantly as they meandered in between the piles of recyclables, heading across the street to the plant where the other guard had summoned them.
“Mia
Zhuk is her name,” she replied, deep in thought.
“Yeah, her…I know her.”
Misao came to a sudden stop, causing the young guard to bump into her then hastily back up.
She turned, her face tense and irate.
“What?” she asked curtly. “Why didn’t you bring this up before? How do you know her?”
“I don’t- I mean don’t know her personally. I met her, my partner and me,” he stumbled verbally. “That’s why they called us in for the sweep.”
“When did you meet her?”
“A few weeks ago. We got a disturbance call to her neighborhood.”
“Domestic?” Misao asked, hoping for some sort of clue as to what had motivated the killing.
He shrugged.
“Maybe, I’m not really sure. We found her a few blocks from her house, hand banged up pretty good. She was beating the hell out of a tree. I’d never seen anything like it before. There were huge chunks missing out of it. When we pulled up she was just sitting there and…and screaming.”
“Screaming?”
“We hauled her up but it’s like we weren’t even there. She just kept on hollering like that. It was terrible. Stanton finally took her out with his baton.”
“What did you do with her?” Misao asked.
“We took her home. We had to.”
“Did she wake up before you dropped her off? Did she say anything?”
“I…I talked to her for a bit.”
“About what?”
The young guard reached up to the cuff of his collar and pulled it away. Misao could see the vaccination scars. He was a candidate for the treatment, which meant he was probably in constant pain. She felt sorry for him suddenly, regretting the snappish attitude she had thrown at him since arriving in the Waste Belt.
“I see.”
“She was kind,” Todd said softly. “And sad. I don’t…”
He trailed off.
“Go on,” Misao encouraged him.
“I don’t think she’s capable of what they said she did.”
She was surprised. Whatever response she expected, it hadn’t been this one.
“You saw what she did to that tree, right? Well, her husband was strangled to death, his trachea crushed, the bones in the back of his neck snapped,” Misao explained bluntly. “Witnesses corroborate that she stood and watched the house burn.”