She guessed as to where the connections would be to get her out of the underground facility and got it right—or, at least, figured she had when she made it to the decontamination room.
The sprays washed off ad Aaron’s blood along with anything else she’d picked up in the bioweapon lab, while a radiation pulse swept her to kill off anything the antiseptics missed.
Roslyn froze in a moment of realization as the doors slid open in front of her. The entire central core of the facility was sealed and atmosphered to keep anything from escaping, but the same protections and securities would stop anything getting in.
The vast size of the laboratory complex suddenly seemed far too small, but there was space for thousands of people in the Orpheus lab. It had other dangers they’d sweep for, but it would be safe from the damn nanites.
She took off toward the exit tunnel at a full run. She didn’t know if she’d be able to save everybody, but if she made the right use of her enemy’s tools, she could save a lot of people.
36
Bolivar and the Marines she’d sent with him were standing by the vans in the treatment plant parking lot, looking…lost. The body language of their stunned horror came through the armor, and she knew it had to be as bad as she’d feared.
“Bolivar, report,” she snapped. Only her Warrant gave her the authority to command local law enforcement, but since that cat was out of the bag, she might as well ride it.
“It’s bad,” he said quietly. “No one was sure what was going on before I reported, but we have riots starting in several sections of the city. They’re expanding…exponentially.”
“Like they’re infectious,” Roslyn agreed. “Where are we at?”
“The Army is solidifying the quarantine lines in the mountains. They’re trying to pull Guardia in from the rest of the peninsula to lock in the city, but I don’t give that more than a fifty-fifty chance of being in time,” Bolivar admitted. “Your Captain has used your authority to impose a planetary quarantine and ordered all spacecraft to dock at the orbital. No further contact between orbit and surface; no one allowed to leave at all.”
“Good. I’m calling upstairs,” Roslyn told him, “but we need to start moving toward the school.”
“The school?” Bolivar sounded confused.
“There are thousands of people near here who have not yet been exposed, and we’re sitting on top of the largest biologically sealed safe zone on the planet,” Roslyn said. “We have to start funneling people into the lab, and that school is the closest concentration of people—and kids.”
“And the lab will keep them safe,” he agreed. “Maybe. Fuck.”
“It’s a better chance than doing nothing,” she told him. It was a terrible idea. But it was the only way she could see to keep the nearby children safe. “Get them moving while I call home.”
The Guardia officer nodded and took off at a run. She couldn’t give him much hope, but it was enough to break his paralysis.
If only someone could lift Roslyn’s fears so easily.
“Marines, I’m going into conference; cover me,” she ordered. The two exosuits shifted toward her wordlessly as she tapped commands on her wrist-comp and took a seat in the passenger seat of the van.
Her view of the world in front of her vanished as her helmet locked in to full conference mode. A moment later, the image of Song of the Huntress’s bridge appeared around her.
“Lieutenant Commander, you’re alive,” Mage-Captain Daalman greeted her. “And apparently promoted?”
“I was given a Warrant in case something like this happened, sir,” Roslyn told her boss. “I was always hunting a rogue Prometheus lab. We just didn’t expect this.”
“I got the gist of it, I think, from the Guardia Captain, but what the hell is going on, Chambers?” Daalman demanded.
“The Mages working for the Republic set up a secret lab to work on nano-scale magitech based on the Prometheus Interface,” Roslyn said, summarizing as quickly as she could. “They developed a weapon they called Orpheus, a magitech nanite that codes microscopic runes inside the human body to take control of the body away from the brain—an inversion of the Prometheus Interface.
“The version they put in the bomb was non-replicating. The version they’re deploying now is self-replicating. It is infectious and I’m not sure of the vectors. I’ve got people in the lab working on getting into their data, but I also have the locations of the aerosol sprayers deploying the nanites.
“Transmitting now.”
“Anyone I send down to the surface to deal with those has to go into full quarantine,” Daalman said quietly. “No external air, no surface contact, but I still can’t let them back aboard Huntress.”
She paused.
“I’ll ask for volunteers from the Marines. Those sprayers will be down in five minutes. Stay on this channel, Chambers.”
Daalman disappeared and Roslyn had a view of the outside world for a few moments. She forced herself to breathe steadily, trying to calm her emotions as much as possible to allow her to work.
An entire city was at risk now. She wasn’t so naïve as to think she was responsible for what Lafrenz had done, but she was still going to do everything she could to stop it.
When the conference mode resumed, Daalman wasn’t alone. A man in the formal red robes of a Catholic Cardinal sitting behind a large stone desk filled half of her view now as the helmet split-screened a three-way conference.
“Cardinal Guerra,” she greeted the planetary Governor. She’d only seen file footage of Fulvio Guerra, which had clearly either been taken longer ago than she’d thought or been doctored. Guerra was one of the oldest-looking human beings she’d ever seen, with deep lines carved into his face and thin but neatly cropped white hair.
“Envoy Chambers,” Guerra greeted her, extending the traditional title of a Voice holding a Warrant. “You’ll forgive me for being frustrated. We did not expect to be surprised by one of Her Majesty’s Voices.”
“The intent, Cardinal, was that I never use the Warrant and carry out the investigation of the Orpheus lab as a Navy officer on a classified basis,” Roslyn told the old man. “That is no longer an option. Nor is keeping any of this secret.”
“What are we facing, Envoy?”
“A self-replicating infectious nanoweapon,” she said simply. “It takes over control of the nervous system of the victim and triggers a massively violent response.” She sighed. “Evidence from the original quarantine zone suggests there’s some level of programming that results in them not attacking each other, but the victims do not eat…sleep…anything.
“They will attack everyone they find until they either can no longer find victims, or the lack of normal bodily maintenance kills them,” Roslyn concluded. “It is…possible that the Orpheus nanites may be able to sustain activity even in a dead host for some unknown period of time.”
“Zombies.”
The Cardinal’s single word hung in the air like a dangling sword.
“In the original Haitian sense, unquestionably,” she admitted. “But…like those original Haitian zombies, the infected are innocent. They haven’t chosen any of this. They are as much victims as anyone.”
“I understand.” All three of them were silent.
“We have elevated the quarantine of the Nueva Portugal peninsula to the maximum level,” Guerra told them. “That requires all interaction with potential infected to be handled by remote drone and a hundred-meter clear zone between the quarantine line and quarantinees…maintained by lethal force.”
“I…” Roslyn swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. “I’m sorry, Cardinal-Governor, but I cannot disagree with your logic. You have the full support of the Warrant I bear in these choices.”
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the other half of the quarantine, Governor,” Daalman noted grimly. “No further launches from the surface will be permitted. I will do everything possible before shooting ships down, but I cannot risk Marines by boarding any v
essels launching from the surface of Sorprendidas.”
“Surely, if we can keep the infection contained to Nueva Portugal, that is not necessary,” Guerra argued.
“We do not know enough about the nature of the Orpheus weapon yet to definitely say it can only spread with people,” Roslyn told him. “It is entirely possible that it was designed to be airborne over significant distances and we will begin to see outbreaks outside the peninsula as time goes on.”
“May the Holy Spirit protect us,” the Cardinal whispered. “Very well, Envoy. The orders will be sent. No one has launched in the last hour, in any case, but we will secure all spaceports and launchpads.
“You have my word as a Cardinal of the Church.”
“We will do what we must,” Roslyn told them. “I think that the Orpheus lab itself should be safe against the weapon, and I will be organizing an evacuation to move as many people into it as possible.
“From there, we will see what we can learn and if we can find an answer…or even an off switch.”
“This is a strategic-area-denial weapon,” Daalman said. “I’d be surprised if there was any way to turn it off. Once they activated it, they likely intended it to damn the entire planet.”
“Doom us, perhaps,” Guerra replied, his tone firm. “But as the Envoy pointed out, the souls of the infected are innocent. We will do everything we can, but I assure you—even the victims of this horror are not damned.
“Its creators, on the other hand, will not enjoy their meetings with St. Peter.”
“Quite likely, they’ve already met him,” Roslyn murmured. “I need to get to work.”
“Hold on one second, Commander,” Daalman told her. “The Marines are hitting the first of your aerosol sprayers. A bit more intelligence might come in handy, don’t you think?”
“I will wait,” Guerra agreed. “God be praised that your people are here, Mage-Captain. I dread to think of what that lab might have managed, left unbothered.”
Roslyn hoped she managed not to look too guilty in response to that. While the Orpheus lab wouldn’t have done any good left alone, they also probably wouldn’t have dusted an entire city with their weapon without her poking them.
“Sergeant Colburn reporting,” a new voice interrupted. “We are at the location indicated in the map and we have located the target. It appears to have been built into the roof of a large office tower, but…”
There was silence for a moment and a video feed from the shuttle appeared on Roslyn’s helmet screen. Several nozzles had clearly emerged from the roof of the tower, each at least a meter high and aimed over the side of the building.
“We can’t be sure until we put boots on the ground, but they’re not spraying anything,” Colburn said grimly. “They might be out of supply.”
“I can’t ask you to put anyone down there, Sergeant,” Daalman replied.
“You didn’t, sir,” Colburn conceded. “We are violating quarantine and will not be able to return to the ship. Sorry, sir.”
The camera shivered moments before two exosuited Marines appeared in the camera feed. Powered gauntlets tore one of the sprayers out as the two began to dismantle the entire structure to find the feed tank.
“Looks like about a hundred-liter tank feeding this one, with separate feeds for each sprayer,” Colburn passed on his people’s report. “And they’re dry. Best guess is this site pumped about six hundred liters of the nanites into the air.
“I don’t know what that translates to in terms of doses beyond ‘way too fucking many,’” the Marine concluded. “Sir. We’ve violated quarantine and cannot follow the original plan. New orders?”
Daalman sighed.
“Report to Lieutenant Commander Chambers at the main target site,” she ordered. “She has a potential evac location, and you will provide air cover. You will not make contact with Chambers, as your vessel and armor are almost certainly contaminated.”
“We know, sir,” Colburn said quietly. “But someone had to do it.”
“Now I need to make sure none of our other volunteers pull the same stupid stunt,” Daalman told the Sergeant. “Good luck.”
The channel to the Marines cut, and Daalman turned her attention back to Guerra and Roslyn.
“Looks like you have air support and some extra hands, if you’re careful, Chambers,” she told Roslyn. “Cardinal-Governor, we have work to do. We’ll keep you in the loop.”
“God bless you, my children,” Guerra told you. “He knows His warriors. He will see you to safety.”
“God helps those who help themselves,” Roslyn replied quietly. “And right now, I need to go help a bunch of other people.”
“And in that, you are His tool today,” the Cardinal told her. “And He will bless and guide you, I promise.”
37
The conference view finally dropped, and Roslyn pulled herself out of the van. A small stream of people was heading her way… Too small.
“Bolivar, I was expecting a few more people heading my way,” she said over the radio. “What’s going on?”
“I’m in the Guardia net and they’re sending everyone they’re finding your way,” the Captain told her. “The school is proving…more difficult.”
She sighed.
“Ping me your coordinates,” she told him.
“Commander?” he questioned.
“Just do it,” Roslyn ordered.
A moment later, his exact GPS position appeared on her helmet. She took a second to double-check her numbers on her wrist-comp, then nodded to herself…and stepped.
“What the blazes?” the middle-aged woman in the prim suit standing in front of Captain Bolivar exclaimed as Roslyn appeared. They were apparently gathered just outside the main entrance to the school, which had heavy shutters closed across it.
“I am Roslyn Chambers, Voice of the Mage-Queen of Mars,” Roslyn told the woman she presumed was the school principal. “What’s going on?”
“This man is trying to get me to evacuate the children from the safest place I have for them,” the woman snapped. “I don’t care if he’s Guardia; the school is designed for any crisis.”
“Your name, ma’am?” Roslyn asked, as gently as she could.
“Abhilasha Anika Yoxall,” the dark-skinned woman replied. She was probably older than Roslyn had initially guessed, with gray streaked through her black hair. “I am the principal of this school and I am responsible for these children.
“The school was designed during the war; it doubles as an air raid bunker, and the barricades can hold against weapons fire,” she continued. “My charges are safer here than anywhere else.”
“Neither the Protectorate nor the Republic used bioweapons or nanotech weapons during the war,” Roslyn told the principal. “Is your school’s air system rated to filter out weapons-grade nanotech, Ms. Yoxall?”
Yoxall blinked, her face darkening as she glared at Bolivar.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“And it doesn’t matter,” Roslyn told her. “I am the Voice of the Mage-Queen of Mars, Ms. Yoxall. Do you know what that means?”
“I am a schoolteacher. I know what that means,” Yoxall replied. “But these children—”
“Will be safer on the right side of a bioweapons filter than they will in your school as this city is under bio-attack,” Roslyn said. “And this isn’t discretionary, Ms. Yoxall. I will tear those doors open myself if it will get those children to safety—and if it comes to it, I will die to defend them.
“Now get them moving.”
Something in Roslyn’s tone—because she doubted her faceless armor was any more sympathetic than Bolivar’s—convinced the woman. Yoxall tapped a command that lifted the barricades.
“Where are we taking them?” she finally asked.
“Adkins, show her the way,” Roslyn ordered one of the Marines. “I have more Marines incoming. I need to coordinate.”
She gestured for Bolivar to join her as the looming exosuit stepped up to the
principal—and then went down on one knee to present a less intimidating figure.
Thank god for smart Marines.
“What’s the Guardia doing?” she asked Bolivar quietly.
“Panicking,” he admitted. “We barely train for bioweapons attack, let alone zombies, and we don’t have the numbers for this. Out-city Guardia is trying to blockade the main roads, but people are panicked and running.
“And the Guardia isn’t much better.”
“I’m guessing subdividing the city to try to contain the infected zones isn’t going to happen?” Roslyn asked.
“If we had ten times as many Guardia officers, maybe, but we’re just cops, sir. There aren’t that many of us. How much violent crime do you think this city has?”
“Not that much,” Roslyn conceded. “So, what can you do?”
“Right now, I’ve got maybe a hundred Guardia officers on a tac-net around the park,” he told her. “From the map you gave me, none of the sprayers are close to here—and those decon units in the lab should deal with any non-active infection.”
“They should,” Roslyn agreed. “You’re sending people our way?”
“Exactly. Right now, this section of the city is quiet. People are having a hard time believing how bad it is elsewhere.”
“I’m having a hard time believing it,” Roslyn admitted. “I just can’t believe anyone would build a weapon like this, let alone use it in this messy of a way.”
“Some people are broken and can be helped,” Bolivar told her. “I’m a cop; my job is to find those people and find them their help. Some people, though… Some people can’t be helped.”
“Usually, that’s when we send in Marines,” she said. “Speaking of, I have more coming. I need you to coordinate with the school, the Guardia, everyone local. Let’s get some cables run down into the lab so we can communicate.
“We can’t waste time on trying to hack their communications system. I need Knight to tell me how to turn off these damn nanites.”
A Darker Magic (Starship's Mage Book 10) Page 19