Single Shot (Justice of the Covenant Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  “Son of a bitch,” Bastion said.

  “I’d be more than happy to prove it,” Hayley said to the Trovers. “We can walk back to the table, no problem.”

  One of the Trovers was whispering into a comm.

  “Or you can let us leave, and we can all forget about it. He left the chits. No harm done.”

  The Trovers looked at her. Then they stepped aside.

  “Go.”

  Hayley smiled. “Thank you.”

  They moved past the two large guards, through a short hallway and out the back door. The Pallimo synth did something with his cane, and Garvan pulled around the corner a few seconds later.

  “Assholes!” Bastion shouted back into the club.

  The car pulled up next to them.

  “So,” Bastion said as he started climbing in. “What’s our plan, anyway?”

  “We’re going to break into the Worldbrain,” Hayley said.

  His qi turned dark. “Shit,” he said softly.

  “Welcome to the Riders!” Tibor said.

  19

  “Tell me more about this multiverse thing,” Hayley said.

  She looked over at Bastion. He had been a little ragged when they picked him up at the club, his hair long, his face covered in a few days worth of growth. He had been cleaned up since then - bathed cut and shaved. Like the rest of the Riders, he was now wearing the uniform of a Crescent Hauler Cargo Mover over a military-grade unmarked lightsuit, with enough firepower hiding underneath to take on a small army.

  “Tell me more about this growing up thing,” he replied. “The last time I saw you. Well, you probably don’t want to hear about it.”

  “I’ve recovered that memory since then,” she said. She was over the Font. “I’ve dealt with it.”

  “Great. Here we go.” He pointed to a large, round man with plenty of bright qi walking out toward the Mary Dawn from the warehouse. Captain Hern. That was their signal that it was almost time to go.

  Hayley turned back to where the other Riders were waiting. They were dressed the same as Bastion and her, in Cargo Mover exosuits over military lightsuits, playing the part of Crescent Hauler employees. It was their job to deliver the electronics from the Mary Dawn to the proper location on the Worldbrain; a perfect cover for fanning out across it to search for the Oracle.

  The inspection team was standing in front of them, blocking their entrance to the cargo hauler. The entire group would be scanned and searched, their credentials verified before they would be allowed to board and make the short trip to the planet. It might have been a problem, especially for Bastion, except Don Pallimo had already taken care of the identity details, matching their biometrics and appearances with existing employee records. It was a felony offense to tamper with verified identity chains, but the Don had already proven Republic laws were made for him to ignore.

  The whole thing left Hayley wondering how they would have ever pulled this off without him. She supposed the taking of Rage Station would have put them on course for the brute force method. Show up, threaten to blow trillions of coin worth of damage out of the Worldbrain, storm the castle, and hope they got in and out before the station was blown to shit. Of course, the ebocite reactor would have given them a long time to operate while the Republic defenses tried to blast through its shields.

  Hayley smiled at the thought of that approach. It had Quark’s signature style written all over it.

  At the same time, she preferred this subtler inception.

  “So, the multiverse,” she said, reminding Bastion.

  He was watching Captain Hern make his way toward them. It was standard operating procedure for him to be present during the inspection.

  “Right,” Bastion said. “Do you know the full history of the Shard and the Shardship?”

  “I think so. The Shard came through a wormhole from another part of the galaxy on a massive starship, with the Seraphim as his crew. He started spreading life across our universe, with humans being a reflection of the Shard’s likeness of being. Only the Seraph, Lucifer, didn’t like that the Shard had chosen to create a new likeness instead of keeping the Seraphim as his favorite people, so he got pissed and murdered the Shard.”

  “And stole some of the seeds when he left with his disciples to start a new colony in the Extant,” Bastion said. “That’s a good summary.”

  “Except I missed the multiverse part.”

  “Right. The Shard is only one of thousands of shards sent out by the One, who is the main being in the whole equation. Some people say God, but I think of him more like a super-advanced alien because God, well... If God exists, He’s God.”

  “That didn’t make any sense.”

  “It doesn’t matter. This universe is only one of thousands, but it seems the Seraphim have their little civil war on all of them, which tends to make things pretty lousy for the rest of the species there. Eleison thinks that your mom’s disappearance is related to that. That she took the Rejects that were around at the time to one of the other universes to help save the innocents.”

  “Without telling me?”

  “Or me.”

  “You aren’t her daughter.”

  “I was her lover. That should count for something.”

  “Too much information.”

  Bastion laughed. “But yeah, there are multiple universes, and all you need to reach them is a gate.”

  “And my mom had a gate?”

  “Where do you think the term Hell’s Gate came from?”

  Captain Hern reached the inspectors. They exchanged pleasantries, and then he turned to Bastion and Hayley.

  “Step forward,” he said. “One at a time.”

  “She had access to a gate,” Bastion whispered as he started walking forward. “If she left, she left because people were dying and she has the power to help them.”

  Hayley watched his qi. He wasn’t lying about any of it. She felt a wave of guilt pass over her conscience. She had spent so much time pissed at her mother for leaving her on Koosa and not coming back for her. What if he was right? What if she was off in another galaxy, saving billions of lives? That was something to be proud of, not mad about.

  That was something to try to live up to.

  The inspector waved a scanner over Bastion, and then made him stick out his wrist. All of them had been given identification implants - microscopic and radioactive isotopes that carried basic identifying information on them. False identifying information, in this case. The inspector checked the biometrics and waved him through without issue.

  “Next,” he said.

  Hayley stepped forward, between the inspector and Captain Hern. The Captain’s qi was shifting yellow. He was getting nervous, but why? Maybe because Hayley stood out more than the others with her tattooed arms and shifty, sightless eyes.

  “Wrist,” the inspector said.

  She held it out. He scanned it. The equipment beeped. It hadn’t beeped for Bastion. He looked at it a little more closely, and then scanned her wrist again.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  The scanner beeped again. “I’m having a hard time getting a solid response from the isotope,” he said. “What’s the ink in your tats made from?”

  “Rhodrinium,” she said, smiling.

  He looked at her, surprised. If she was telling the truth, she had enough of the alloy in her body to pay for both his kids to go to doctoral school.

  She wasn’t telling the truth, but she figured it would be a good reason his equipment wasn’t reading the isotope right. Something in her body was screwing it up.

  He tried it a third time, the scanner finally satisfied.

  “Everything checks out,” he said. “You’re clear to board.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Hayley said.

  “Next,” the inspector said behind her.

  She walked up the wide ramp into the Mary Dawn’s cargo hold. It was stuffed with containers, each loaded into segmented sections of the massive hold where it would be eas
y to lock them onto transport ships to bring to the Worldbrain’s surface.

  “Thought we were going to have a problem there,” Bastion said. “Maybe have to fight our way out. That could have been fun.”

  “Sorry to ruin it.”

  He smiled. “I’m sure we’ll make up for it later. You are a Cage, after all.”

  She didn’t need to ask him what he meant. “Ready to save the universe, Bastion?”

  “Second time’s the charm, right?” he replied.

  “I hope so.”

  20

  The rest of the Riders made it on board without a problem, joining Hayley and Bastion and a crew of real Cargo Movers in seats at the front of the hold. The real Movers didn’t look at them or ask them any questions or even acknowledge they were there at all. Their orders had come directly from Captain Hern and Don Pallimo, and they were damned well going to stick to them.

  Hayley only started to feel nervous once the Mary Dawn’s hatches had all sealed, and the huge booster beneath the ship started powering up. They were past the point of no return. There was no changing their minds. No going back.

  “Major, this is Jil, do you copy?”

  The pilot had remained on board the Chalandra. She would be jumping to the Worldbrain ahead of them, where she would wait outside the controlled zone for the transport they would be stealing to reach orbit for pickup. It was the trickiest part of their plan, and the most dangerous, although Bastion had a lot to say to the contrary. According to him, there was zero need to worry about that part. He was the best pilot out there, and once he had the chance, he would prove Jil was great but not as great as him.

  Hayley was inwardly amused by that. Bastion Merritt was cocky and arrogant, but she couldn’t argue with his record. He had been at Hell’s Gate. He had served with her mother. If he were half as good as he claimed to be, they would be in great shape.

  “I copy, Jil,” Hayley replied. “What’s your status?”

  “Lifting off now. Gant says we’ll be in position in forty minutes.”

  “Roger that. Stay safe.”

  “Roger.”

  The comm link closed. It was weird to Hayley to have the comm behind her ear and feeding into her translation chip, rather than connected to her visor. It sounded mostly the same. There was a little more echo, but nothing she couldn’t get used to.

  “So, Eleison,” Hayley said, looking to the Seraphim in the row behind her. “How did you get mixed up with the Rejects?”

  She smiled and pointed at Bastion. “This guy. He bailed me out of a situation in the Outworlds. Have you ever seen car chases on the sims?”

  “Of course.”

  “It was like that, only much more intense.”

  “We’ve been there,” Tibor said. “Not that long ago.”

  “How’d you get out?” Bastion asked.

  “It’s a long story, and this is a short hop. But I’ll tell you when we’re done with the mission.”

  “As long as you’re providing cold, hard beverages, I’m in.”

  “We’ll see about the beverages,” Hayley said.

  “Roger,” Bastion replied.

  The nearest loudspeaker clicked as the ship’s comm activated.

  “This is Commander Pratt. We are go for launch. All crew prepare for departure. I repeat. All crew, prepare for departure.”

  “Did it,” Bastion said, first pulling at the straps of his seat and then tapping his uniform where his sidearm was hidden.

  They had about thirty seconds before the ship started to shake slightly, vibrating against the moorings that held it to the assistive lifter. Then they could all hear the thrusters firing, the roar of it making it through the ship’s hull as a dull rumble. They were pushed back slightly in their seats while the Mary Dawn started to rise.

  There were no windows to view the ascent. No displays, either. Hayley leaned back in her seat, trying to recall what planets looked like. She tried to remember the blue and white and green of Earth. She had lost the ability to see anything but color. Even her memories had burned out to the river of energy. Most of the time, she was okay with it. She missed it today, just like she missed Nibia and Quark and the others. She was leading the Riders, but these weren’t the Riders she knew.

  The ship stopped vibrating when the launcher broke away, switching to high-pitched hum that faded the higher they climbed. They hit orbit within ten minutes.

  “Prepare for FTL hop in thirty,” Commander Pratt said over the comm. There wasn’t anything to do to prepare, but it was standard operating procedure to make the announcement.

  Hayley felt the shift as the Mary Dawn moved out of regular spacetime, and then everything was flat and silent. She was pulled lightly against her restraints; the cargo hold kept at zero gravity for short jumps like this one. There was no sense wasting energy on keeping a bunch of electronics pinned to the ground.

  She glanced around at her team. Bastion was calm and eager. Eleison was the same. Narrl was sleeping. Tibor was nervous and worried. About her, she was sure. She was starting to feel nervous too. There had been thirty-two Riders on the Quasar when it was destroyed. That seemed like a massive army compared to what she had to work with now. At least they were calm. All things considered, it was a good sign.

  Twenty uneventful minutes later, the ship dropped back into regular spacetime. Commander Pratt announced their imminent arrival at the Worldbrain, and Hayley wished again that she could see it, really see it. None of them could from their positions.

  “Have you been here before?” Hayley asked Bastion.

  “Once,” he replied. “Looking for answers about your mom’s disappearance.”

  “Is it as amazing as I’ve heard?”

  “If you’re into tech and intel? Probably. If you like fun? Probably not. Personally, I like fun.”

  “The Sentries take their job very seriously,” Eleison said. “They don’t suffer infractions that could damage the brain. At all.”

  “What she means is, spill a fragging glass of water on the wrong counter and you can find yourself on the next shuttle out.”

  “So if we start shooting things?”

  “Expect a response that’s about a hundred times overkill.”

  Hayley turned to the others. “Let’s try not to shoot anything.”

  “Cargo Movers,” Command Pratt said. “We have permission to start unloading. Alpha, Bravo, Echo, you’re up first. Very important guests, and you know who you are, get off my ship and out of their way as quickly as possible. Some of us have real work to do.”

  The Cargo Movers started unbuckling from their seats, rising and pushing off. Three of the Movers floated toward the transports aligned on the port side of the hold, while the others made for the cargo containers to prep them for attachment.

  “Well, that was rude,” Bastion said, releasing his belt. “Like saving the galaxy isn’t real work.”

  “To each their own,” Narrl said, who had somehow woken himself up at the right moment.

  “Remember,” Hayley said. “We stick together when we get to the surface. Finding the Oracle is going to mean hacking the network, so first order of business it to find a secure terminal.”

  “Which of us lunatics is responsible for hacking the network?” Bastion asked.

  “I am,” Hayley replied.

  “I thought you couldn’t see?”

  “I can’t. But neither can the Worldbrain, and it manages. I’m not going to say I’m as good as Sykes might have been or Gant would be. But they aren’t options.”

  “Breaking a first-class network with a third-string hacker?” Bastion said. “Why did I agree to come along again?”

  “Because you’re the Saint of Hopeless Causes, remember?” Hayley replied.

  “Right.”

  “Hey, assholes,” one of the Movers shouted. “Let’s go!”

  “Activate your coms and give me a check,” Hayley said.

  “Worm, check,” Bastion said.

  “Ellie, check,”
Eleison said.

  “Bullseye, check,” Narrl said.

  “Bullseye?” Hayley said. “That’s new.”

  “The Colonel gave it to me on Rage Station.”

  “Because you’re a good shot?” Bastion asked.

  “Not exactly,” the Curlatin replied.

  “More like he has one painted on his chest,” Tibor said. “And the enemy rarely misses it.”

  “I’m big,” Narrl said. “It makes me easier to hit.”

  “Sure does,” Bastion said. “There’s no shame in being shot. Only in dying a failure.”

  “Not helping.”

  “Let’s try to avoid getting shot at,” Hayley said.

  “Yeah, that’s worked great for us so far,” Tibor said. “Xolo, check.”

  “Witchy, check,” Hayley said. “Keep your Tactical Command Units active on low-power. Goggles stay hidden unless the shit hits the thrusters. Remember, keep a low profile. We want to do this without attracting attention.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bastion said for the group.

  “Maintain comm silence unless prompted. Riiiddeeerrss.”

  “Riiddeeerrs,” the others responded quietly.

  Then they split up, pairing off and heading to the three Mover transports. They joined the real crews there, strapping into the jump seats behind the pilots of the smaller craft.

  A minute later, they were on their way.

  21

  The transports entered the Worldbrain through small hangars located in one of the many tall spires that circled the planet. They touched down within two minutes of leaving the Mary Dawn, the Cargo Movers rising and shouting to one another, the crews bouncing into action while the pilots headed over to the Sentries who were watching the activity.

  Hayley and the Riders were slow to join the real Movers, unbuckling last and struggling to catch up. They had to play the part until they were clear of the hangar, and out from under the immediate auspices of the Worldbrain’s guards.

  The Sentries wore pure white guardsuits - exoskeletons that were a step between the more mobile lightsuits and the heavier and bulkier battlesuits. The armor plating on the guardsuits was thick and chunky, like an ancient suit of metal armor, but light enough the wearer could still maneuver in the corridors of the Worldbrain. The six Sentries standing in the hangar were all wearing helmets, definitely networked with TCUs of their own, and no doubt linked to the entire detail currently active on the planet. They stood at stiff attention, following every protocol.