“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s not our problem.”
“They’re following a Starflyer agent. I thought we wanted Starflyer agents.” Her arm swept around the auditorium. “That’s the whole idea, isn’t it? Grab them and haul them in here for Qatux.”
“Wait, which Starflyer agent are they watching?”
“Victor Halgarth, Isabella’s father,” Hoshe said.
“He’s there as well?” The Boongate gateway data in Nigel’s virtual vision grid showed him the wormhole opening.
“As well as who?” Mellanie asked. “Look, Nigel, the Senate Security team have just reported Victor’s on the move with a whole bunch of armed troops. We need to get them out, or send in reinforcements. Either way, the gateway has to be opened.”
Wilson and Oscar exchanged a startled look.
“The Paris team can’t divert to help Senate Security,” Oscar said. “Arresting Tarlo is an absolute priority.”
“Tarlo’s on Boongate?” Paula asked in surprise; she turned to Hoshe. “Why didn’t we know?”
“None of this has been filed,” Hoshe said.
“Two Starflyer agents on Boongate?” Nelson asked. He sounded alarmed.
“What operation are you running?” Paula asked Oscar.
“Tarlo’s appearance was reported by Edmund Li,” Oscar said. “He works at the Far Away freight inspectorate division on Boongate. Tarlo has taken over the whole Far Away section at Boongate station. The Paris office team are going in to arrest him.”
“Going in?” Paula asked in surprise; she rounded on Nigel. “Are you opening the gateway?”
“It’s already open,” Nigel said. He tried not to sound sheepish.
“You have to shut it,” Paula said. “This can’t be a coincidence.”
Nigel reviewed the data in his grid. “It’ll be closed any minute now.”
“Nigel!” Justine called out.
“Now what?”
“I’ve got Bradley Johansson, we really need to talk to him. Now.” She switched Johansson’s link to a general call.
“Mr. Johansson,” Nigel said. “It looks like the Commonwealth owes you a big apology.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sheldon, but right now I’d like to swap that for one piece of information.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s a train approaching the Boongate gateway. Is it one you authorized?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. It’s carrying a team who are going to deal with a Starflyer agent.”
“Really? And what about the second train?”
Nigel stared at Nelson. “What second train?”
The link broadened into a grainy visual image. A single aging carriage was crawling forward toward the giant row of gateways. Three hundred meters behind it, another train was sliding onto the track that led to Boongate.
“Who the fuck is that?” Nigel gasped. His expanded mentality accessed Narrabri station traffic control. The train wasn’t even registering on the system.
“Shut the gateway,” Paula demanded. “Now!”
Nigel didn’t need to be told. His virtual hand touched Daniel Alster’s icon. There was no reply; it didn’t even acknowledge his connection request. The only result was the Boongate gateway data dropping out of his grid. “Shit.” He hurriedly called up Ward Smith’s unisphere address code. It didn’t answer, either. Nigel diverted his full expanded mentality to the Boongate gateway control system, ready to take personal control and shut the wormhole. His electronic presence couldn’t gain access. “I can’t get in,” Nigel said. It shocked him more than anything else. “I can’t get into the fucking system.”
“What about Alster?” Oscar asked. “Can he shut it down?”
“He’s not responding.”
“Daniel Alster, your chief executive aide,” Paula said; she nodded with what could have been satisfaction. “Perfectly placed.”
“This is most exhilarating,” Qatux said. “I am so glad I came.”
***
The Boongate gateway was four hundred meters dead ahead, and the carriage had slowed to walking pace. Alic could see the track leading straight into the bottom of the funereal semicircle in front of them, glimmering silver in the dusky light. So close! The tension from waiting was acting like ice water on his guts. None of the others were saying anything; they all stood together watching the gateway as it opened for them.
It had never actually closed, Alic knew, that was misleading; the wormhole still reached Boongate—CST had simply reduced its internal width to zero. Expanding it again was a simple application of power. In his mind he saw it as a single big lever you just had to pull down.
The dark semicircle began to brighten, shading up to a husky gold.
“Here we go,” Matthew said.
“Hell, I never thought we’d actually do it,” Jim said. “What do you think the future’s going to be like?”
“Let’s just concentrate on the mission,” Alic said.
“Oh, come on, Boss, you’ve got to be interested.”
“Maybe, but the mission comes first.” But it did give him pause for thought as the carriage began to speed up.
“Do we get twenty years’ salary paid us?” Jim asked.
“From the navy?” John said. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“But we’ll be gone for twenty years.”
“Only if we actually make it through this time travel wormhole. I mean what happens if the Primes attack Wessex while we’re halfway through?”
“Then we get dead very quickly,” Vic said cheerfully. “Without the generator, the wormhole collapses with us inside.”
“Sheldon will use his superbomb against Dyson Alpha,” Matthew said. “Nobody’s going to attack Wessex. We’ll win the war.”
“Okay, but what if some other war breaks out in ten years’ time while we’re still traveling?”
“Great, you just keep looking on the good side—”
“Alic,” Oscar said. “It’s behind you.”
“What?” some primitive instinct sent a shiver along Alic’s limbs.
“The Starflyer is behind you. There’s a train accelerating along the track. We’ve lost control of the gateway. Move!”
Alic swung around to examine the rear of the carriage. The ceiling lights were dim back there, turning the cargo handling area into a gloomy metal cave. He raised an arm, a plasma rifle siding up out of its forearm recess. He set it to rapid expansion, and fired. The bolt blasted a two-meter hole through the rear of the carriage. A judder ran along the carriage floor as it rocked on its stiff old suspension.
“Christ, Boss,” Jim exclaimed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Alic didn’t answer. He was staring through the gap. Bright light was shining straight in at him. His retinal inserts brought filter programs on-line. A GH7-class engine was moving onto their track three hundred meters behind them, its headlights blazing as it started to pick up speed. He could see the last of its wagons curving around off the points, clad in yellow sand. It was the train they’d just passed on a siding.
The front of the GH7 was almost three times the height of the carriage they were riding in, and easily twice as wide. Its chrome air intake grille alone was bigger than them. And its speed was reducing the distance fast; with only a few wagons it could accelerate hard.
“Shit!” Vic cried out.
“It’s the Starflyer,” Alic told them. One of his particle lances swung up and over his shoulder, pointing directly at the center of the GH7. He fired. Incandescence flooded the carriage like a solid force. Windows blew out from the sound blast of the discharge. Alic swayed backward, almost falling, feeling the suit’s electromuscle bands fighting the recoil. The lance struck the GH7 head-on, and broke apart.
“Force field,” Matthew said. “They’ve got heavy-duty protection.”
“Vic, John, take out the track,” Alic ordered. The GH7 was closer now, barely two hundred meters away. It was terrifyingly massive.
“Spe
ed up,” Oscar said. “Take control of the carriage, and accelerate.”
Alic’s virtual hands danced over the carriage management icons. Vic and John raced for the back of the carriage, and knelt down in front of the blast hole. They began shooting at the track between them and the GH7. Green and purple flashes streaked across the ground outside.
“They’ve extended their force field,” Vic yelled. “We can’t hit the track.”
Alic’s black virtual hand thumped the carriage accelerator symbol, and held it down. There was a shrill whining sound from the axle motors, and the carriage lurched forward.
“They’re gaining on us,” Matthew yelled. “We’re going to get bulldozed.”
Alic whirled around. The gateway was only two hundred meters away now.
A searing scarlet explosion erupted from the side of the GH7. Flames splashed across the giant engine’s force field, twisting away into the sky to fuel a writhing cloud of black smoke.
“Oh, great,” Jim moaned. “Now someone else out there is shooting.”
Nigel’s expanded mentality examined the physical connections into the Boongate gateway control center. Fireshields had been erected at every interface node in CST’s Narrabri network, isolating the entire system.
There has to be a way in!
He could crack the fireshields, but it would take time. They were based on one hundred ninety geometry encryption.
“Get a security team into the gateway control center,” Nigel snapped at Nelson. His digital presence circled around and around the network, interrogating every routing node, hunting a weakness. Eight of Narrabri station’s RIs were diverted from their primary function of managing wormhole generators, and assigned decryption on the fireshields. He knew they wouldn’t do it in time.
The traffic control network, with its complex sensor system spread across the station, was still available to him. He accessed the cameras on top of the Boongate gateway, receiving a clear view looking down on the little carriage as it shuddered its way along the last hundred fifty meters of track. The GH7 was right behind it, headlights illuminating the shoddy paintwork and grime-smeared wheels. The distance was shrinking rapidly as the carriage accelerated as best its ancient hub motors could manage. Missiles slammed into the GH7. Completely ineffectual.
Where did they come from?
“Gateway control center is closed and barricaded,” Nelson reported. “We can’t get in.”
“Blow it open,” Nigel ordered. One aspect of his expanded mentality was examining the orbital platforms to see if their beam weapons could get a clear shot at the GH7. But he didn’t have access to the Narrabri force field, and by the time he got through to Alan it would be too late.
Another slender particle lance shot came from the carriage to strike ineffectually at the force field around the GH7. Then the carriage swept through the open gateway.
Alic was instinctively bracing himself for the impact. The GH7 was closing fast now, bearing down on them with more inertia than a falling moon.
“Get ready to jump,” Alic said. He bent his legs, ready to use the strength of the suit’s electromuscle. It should be enough to power him clear, then if he sprinted…
“We stay,” Vic growled. “We’ll be through any second. I’m not going to let him get away from us now.”
“But—”
The weak rose-gold light emanating from the gateway was almost lost in the harsh blaze of the headlights behind them. Alic was mesmerized by the GH7 as it raced ever closer. Decision time was measurable in seconds. Less.
“Stay with it,” Vic pleaded.
Which was a personal choice, Alic knew, whereas he should be making cool operational assessments. Too late.
Another barrage of missiles hammered at the GH7 engine. Then they were through the force field, and Boongate’s planetary station was laid out in front of them under the gloaming of a twilight sun. Alic stared in consternation at what was waiting for them. “Jump,” he yelled frantically.
***
The GH7 vanished through the Boongate gateway.
“It got home,” Nigel exclaimed. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Right under our fucking noses. Son of a bitch!”
“Commander Hogan’s link has dropped out,” Oscar said. “They must be under attack on the other side.”
“No goddamn kidding.”
“Unisphere connection to Boongate has failed,” Nelson said. “It looks like the physical link was taken out just the other side of the zero-width wormhole.”
“Mr. Sheldon,” Bradley Johansson said, “we need to go after it.”
Nigel shot Justine a look, anxious for advice from someone who must surely understand all the factors. She just shrugged, her left hand held against her belly. He thought she was going to be sick; her cheeks were puffing out.
“We’ll put a team together,” Nigel said. It came out like an admission of defeat.
“Your pardon,” Bradley said. “We already have a team. And I have spent a hundred thirty years preparing for this eventuality. Let us go through.”
“I don’t even have control of the gateway right now.”
“My squad is getting entry into the gateway control center,” Nelson said. “Some resistance. Oh…they’re all dead, all the staff, he murdered them.”
Nigel closed his eyes, experiencing an anguish that was close to physical pain. One of his grid squares expanded into his virtual vision. He couldn’t recall summoning it. Links from the security squad showed him the carnage. “Oh, Christ.” It was Anshun all over again. “How many of these Judas bastards are there?” Four of the security squad were chasing someone in a force field suit, blowing flaming holes in the structure of the gateway administration building as they went. A grade one security alert was slowly closing off the building, force fields compartmentalizing it. Too little, too late, Nigel knew.
“We have to get back to Far Away,” Bradley Johansson said. “The Guardians can stop the Starflyer. This is our time, Mr. Sheldon; let us do what we have devoted our lives to achieving.”
Ion rifle fire and enhanced energy grenades were shredding the fourth floor of the administration building as the security squad closed in on Daniel Alster. Nigel took a breath, steeling himself. “What do you need?”
“We have a train here at Narrabri station loaded with our equipment. All we need to make it work is the data Kazimir was carrying. Senator Burnelli has it.”
“I do,” Justine confirmed. She held up a memory crystal, then grimaced against another burst of nausea.
“Once we have that,” Johansson continued, “we need passage through the wormhole to Boongate. Investigator Myo can guarantee that.”
“No,” Paula said. “I will not do that. I will not legitimatize Elvin’s criminal activities.”
“We need a guarantee if we are to expose ourselves,” Johansson said. “Surely you must see that?”
“I have no reason to lie,” Nigel said. “You can go through. No catch.” The RIs were breaking the fireshields, hacking a route back into the Boongate wormhole systems for him. It didn’t look as if Alster had inflicted any physical damage to the giant machine.
“Investigator, I am not asking you to legitimatize anything,” Bradley said. “I am asking you to help us overcome the mistrust that has assisted the Starflyer for a hundred thirty years. In addition, you will be able to witness its final demise.”
Nigel had never seen Paula look so uncertain before. There was even a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. He put the link to Johansson on hold. “You’ll have to go,” he told her gently. “Take Cat’s Claws with you; they’ll maintain your safety.”
“I arrested Morton,” she said indignantly.
“All right, some CST security operatives, then. But we need to get this moving.”
Wilson and Anna had been whispering together. “We’ll go,” Wilson said. “Someone from our group needs to confirm what happens on Far Away, if we ever reach it.”
“You two have no exp
erience on dealing with unknown terrain,” Oscar said. “Besides, I’m a serving navy officer.”
“Enough.” Nigel held his hand up. “The three of you and Paula can go with Cat’s Claws. That’s it. Nelson, get them suited up, the best armor we have.” He brought Johansson back on-line. “Bradley, we’re sending a team out to you, including Investigator Myo; they’ll accompany you to Far Away.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sheldon.”
“I also will accompany Mr. Johansson,” Qatux announced.
Tiger Pansy’s giggle was loud in the auditorium. “I guess that means I get to go, too, huh?”
“If you would be so kind,” Qatux said. “I do not believe anything you can experience in the Commonwealth will be as rich with emotional content as this chase.”
“Sure. Okay,” Tiger Pansy said. “It’ll be a laugh.”
“Qatux, you can’t go,” Nigel said.
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“That is for me to judge. I am an individual.”
“But we need you here,” Hoshe said.
“I will return to assist you in investigating Starflyer agents. I expect I will be of more use on Far Away in the immediate future; there are likely to be more Starflyer agents there.”
“Oh, why the hell not.” Nigel grunted with ill grace. “Anyone else?” He stared at Mellanie, who responded by looking up to study the ceiling.
“Could I ask you to hurry, please,” Bradley Johansson said. “We’re running out of time.”
There wasn’t much government left on Boongate by the time MorningLightMountain sent its ships and flare bombs into the star system. The population, too, was much reduced; people had been leaving ever since the Lost23 were invaded. For the rich it was easy: they could afford to switch home without too much trouble; the middle classes, well informed or with a young family, took the loss as the price for safety; for single people it was even easier to pack up and leave. Local government, assisted by the Commonwealth Senate, did their best to discourage the exodus. The navy strengthened the planet’s defenses, including the force fields that shielded cities and the larger towns. Recently a starship had been assigned to the system for patrol duties, complementing the orbital platforms. The displacement continued more or less as before.
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