by T. R. Harris
“I agree, General Smith,” said the computer. “There is commercial and local traffic, yet I count very few vessels with military classifications.”
“Captain MacMillan said they were being chased by a whole slew of warcraft. They had to come from Enif.”
“They may still be engaged in the search,” Amber offered.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t sweat it, general,” Angus said. “This could make our job easier.”
The REV was on the bridge with the flag officer, watching through the viewport as the beautiful globe of ES-8 grew larger. All ES worlds reminded him of Earth—that’s why they were Earth-Standard worlds. But like most REVs, Angus didn’t have pleasant memories of his prior time on the planet. For years, Enif had been an on-again, off-again battleground between the Humans and the Antaere, until Earth essentially conquered the planet a few years back. But then came the not-so-subtle request by the natives to get the hell out. After so many lost lives, the Humans packed up and left. Since then the Antaere had moved back in, and in greater numbers.
But if that was the case, where were they?
“I have sent a landing request to Valinus control,” Amber said. Valinus was the capital city of the planet where the Endorus Communications Relay Station was located. Angus grimaced. He’d taken two Runs through the tunnels under the city. One was routine, the other not so much. It took him three months to recover from that one. The visual record of the Run was vivid in his memory; as was the painful recovery.
“Clearance granted,” Amber reported. “We are to land at the station spaceport, priority placing for Antaere-registered vessels.”
“Are we an Antaere-registered vessel?” Angus asked.
“We are now,” was the computer’s mischievous answer. The questionable pedigree of the ship and its mysterious owner allowed the Zanzibar to pass unimpeded through most parts of both Antaere and Human space. Amber’s habit of ignoring the highly illegal practice of altering transponder codes probably had a lot to do with it.
“I am lining up for approach; we should be on the ground in ten minutes.”
General Smith faced Angus. “It’s showtime, gunny. Time to get into costume.”
Over the course of the trip from Earth to Enif, a tentative plan for the rescue of Zac Murphy had developed—tentative because until they located Zac within the huge communications complex, final plans couldn’t be worked out. The presence of the Antaerean Congin Bornak had brought them to Enif and the Endorus complex, but they still needed to find Zac within the array of eighteen major and minor buildings on the grounds.
The area was a lot larger in person than it had appeared in the vids or even while landing and dominated by the massive transmission building at the center. It was of a stacked pyramid design with the two-thousand-foot-high wormhole antenna rising from the center. Although ship-to-ship and planet-to-planet wormhole communications were common, the station—as its name implied—was designed to boost signals, maintain the delicate links through space-time, and then relay these messages to far distant locations. There was another such station on ES-2—a planet called Ekin’bor—yet this one was the main facility for three-quarters of the Grid.
The Endorus Station was a Grid-supported operation, and therefore open to all Colony natives—all except Humans. Although comms still filtered through the center, Earth transmissions were closely monitored for messages originating within Antaere territory. That was how the Zanzibar had been traced to the area outside of Iz’zar. The relay message still made it through to Earth, but their location had been compromised by the transmission.
Even though a variety of races used the facility, it was run mostly by the native Enif. This may seem odd, seeing that the Enif weren’t known for their intelligence. Yet the hairy beings with bulbous foreheads had an uncanny ability to understand complicated procedures, if only to follow instructions. Creatively, they weren’t anything to write home about, but as support staff, they were among the best. That also meant they could fight, if instructed to do so.
Although the Antaere were now on the planet Enif in large numbers, they generally left the massive relay station to its own devices. It was such a vital link to all the beings within the Grid that no one dared cause it harm. The Antaere knew this, so they marshalled their forces at other locations on the planet, such as power plants, spaceports and in their many garrisons. Except for a relatively few Antaere wormhole technicians and managerial personnel, the Enif ran the station.
As the plan evolved, it was reasoned that someone of Zac’s notoriety—as well as his potential threat—would require a fairly large security detail be assigned to him. This would make him fairly easy to locate, if they could get access to the security database. The problem was the security division had its own dedicated computer system, independent of the station’s primary servers. To access the files they would have to gain access to the main security building, and as expected, it was the most-secure facility in the complex.
Amber had indicated that if they could get her inside the building and hooked to an internal computer, she could scan the files for Zac’s security detail. On the journey to Enif she had revealed her true self to the crew, as being a small box hidden under the command console in the pilothouse. She was portable yet could leave a ghost version of herself on the Zanzibar to run the basic functions when she was gone. They would have the awesome computing power of the AI with them on the mission.
The other advantage they would have: they would look like Antaere, and Antaere often had the run of the place. But to get past the reception lobby in the security building, they would need an excuse.
That’s when Kyle Johnson—the REVs resident tech geek—suddenly perked up and then disappeared into the ship’s cargo hold for a few minutes. When he returned to the common room and the mission planning session, his arms were overloaded with an array of spare electronic parts, with wires and cables dangling all the way to the deck. When he explained his plan, enthusiasm in the room grew tenfold. This could actually work.
When the ship landed, the three REVs and Ashley Hunter were dressed in their Antaere uniforms, with yellow skin and contact lens-enhanced yellow eyes. Everyone admitted, they really did look like the real thing.
Since Ashley was the only one aboard who spoke fluent Antaerean, she would lead the small four-person team to the security building. This was in case they encountered any Antaere, which if they did, would most likely be within the security staff. They couldn’t risk the non-synchronized movements of their lips and mouths through the translation bug tipping off the aliens.
General Smith would stay aboard the ship and monitor the op with the help of a ghost version of Amber and her many sensors, while Olivia was ready for any medical emergencies that might arise.
Ashley had already made contact with the spaceport’s transportation concierge and had a cab waiting for them once the smoke of the landing jets cleared. She sat in the front seat with the female driver, while the three huge REVs crowded into the back. The Enif driver eyed the passengers with unease. Although they looked like Qwin, the ones in the back were really big Qwin.
Ashley instructed the driver to take them to the security building and she obliged.
They had the cab park to the side of the building and told the driver to wait. Donovan Ross carried a bag with their weapons, yet he hid it in a bush along the side of the building. There were weapons detectors at the entrance, meaning they would have to enter the most-fortified facility on the site completely unarmed.
Ashley led the way into the building and through the security scanners. The three REVs followed, each encumbered with armfuls of miscellaneous electronic components. Ashley strode up to the reception counter.
“I demand to see a supervisor!” she barked out in perfect Antaerean.
The two Enif attendants blinked several times from the intensity of the statement, before one responded.
“What appears to be the issue?”
“I have bee
n hacked,” she stated firmly. “My entire system has been compromised. This is the security division and I demand that you find out who has done this and then rectify the situation immediately.”
An Antaere supervisor was in a side room and heard the commotion. He stepped out and stood behind the Enif attendants.
“What division are you from?” he asked, eying first the female Antaere with the loud mouth, and then the three tall, chiseled males standing behind her.
“I am with transmission control, section three.”
The Antaere leaned over at a station beside the attendants. “I will send a team over to investigate.”
“There is no need,” Ashley countered. “I have brought all the contaminated equipment. You have means of searching the electronics to find out who did this. We cannot have Colony natives stealing data from others, and especially not from Antaere. You can do the scans now.”
“We can scan the equipment, but you will have to leave it.”
Angus dropped one of his modules. It clanged on the floor, sounding like a gunshot. He bent over awkwardly and picked it up.
“That will be fine,” Ashley said. “Where do you want it?”
The Antaere supervisor scrutinized the group again before hesitantly coming around the counter. “Follow me.”
He motioned for an Enif guard to trigger the release on a security door, and then led them down a long corridor before entering a room with work counters lining the walls and two large tables in the middle. Electronic equipment was everywhere, with three Enif technicians huddled over stations, hard at work. They didn’t look up when the others entered.
The Antaere walked to the far end of the room and motioned to a section of counter. “Put your—”
Angus had lingered behind the group before dropping his load onto one of the tables in the middle of the room. The Antaere heard metal hitting metal and turned toward the sound.
“No, not there,” he snapped, marching angrily in Angus’s direction.
While the supervisor was distracted, Kyle dropped the few pieces he was carrying on the counter, including a nine by twelve inch thin metal box with a datapad linked to it by a single cable. Within his earphone, he heard Amber speak.
“Activate the camera on the datapad and scan the area,” she said.
Kyle followed the instructions and was soon sweeping the datapad across the array of electronics and cables lining the walls behind the counters.
“The blue cable,” Amber announced. “Plug it into the port on the side of the pad.”
As Kyle obeyed, one of the Enif technicians saw what he was doing.
“You should not do that,” the native said, loud enough for the distracted Antaere supervisor to hear. The alien turned, locking a suspicious gaze on Kyle. That’s when Angus bashed him on the back of the neck with a hand chop. The Qwin slumped to the floor.
Angus pulled a weapon from the Qwin’s holster and pointed it at the three shocked and stunned Enif. They’d never seen an Antaere hit another Antaere.
“I only had time to send a flash signal into the system,” Amber announced into the ears of the team. “It will blind the security cameras, but only for a few seconds…I have located the cameras for this room. When the others come up, I will leave these off. However, that will alert a repair crew unless they come back on very quickly. I will scan the files now for Lt. Murphy’s security detail.”
Donovan and Angus gathered up the three terrified Enif and bound them in plastic cable ties. Even on an alien world with superior technology, wires and cables still had to be bundled together. The plastic ties were ubiquitous throughout the Grid. They moved the natives and the unconscious—if not dead—Antaere to a storage cabinet. Donovan dumped the contents on the floor to make room for the prisoners and then stuffed them inside. He secured the handle with more of the plastic ties.
“Appear normal,” Amber ordered. “I am reactivating the cameras.”
Ashley and the three REVs stood next to the work counter, looking bored, yet innocent.
“I have located Zac’s detail,” Amber reported. The others moved closer to Kyle. “He is in Annex A, the building to the left of the transmission tower, room eight-one-eight.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Angus ordered. He began to move toward the door.
“Wait! He is not there,” Amber said. “I have accessed the room’s video surveillance. The room is empty.”
The team crowded around, looking at the screen on the datapad.
“The room is empty, but it’s not abandoned,” Ashley pointed out. “Look, the bed hasn’t been made and there’s clothing around. They may just have him somewhere else at the moment.”
“I will download the security recordings to find what has happened to him,” Amber said. “It will only take a few seconds.”
“We’ve found him!” It was Olivia’s voice over the comm.
“Say again,” Angus requested.
“We found Zac. Smitty was scanning the broadcasts coming from the station when he saw him. He’s in some kind of clear box…” She was silent for a moment before speaking again. “The general says he’s at the main staging arena in the production center, top floor.”
The team had studied the layout of the complex and knew that the production center was the second-largest structure on the grounds, a large, domed building to the south of the transmission tower.
“They’re preparing for some kind of show,” Olivia continued to report. “And it looks like Zac will be the center attraction.”
Angus huddled the team. “Ashley, get Amber back to the ship. Without her running the Zanzibar, we’re dead-in-the-water.”
“But what about Zac?”
Angus smiled. “The three of us will go get him. This is what we do.”
“I could help.”
Donovan patted the top of Ashley’s head. “Sorry, Missy, but you’d just slow us down.”
Angus saw Ashley’s yellow skin turn a shade darker and her golden eyes flare.
“Really, sweetheart,” Angus said. “It’s important for you to get back to the ship. We’ve got this.”
Ashley took a moment to send Donovan at death-stare, before she took Amber’s main module from Kyle and headed for the door.
She led them to the lobby, and as she passed the reception counter, she instinctively said, “Thank you,” to the two Enif attendants. She cringed the moment she spoke the words, knowing an Antaere would never thank a lowly native—for anything. She continued through the security barriers, feeling the eyes of the attendants burning into the back of her neck.
They made it out of the building and into the sunshine of mid-morning on Enif without incident. As they turned the corner to the side of the building, they weren’t surprised to see that the cab was gone, along with its nervous driver. Angus recovered the weapons bag and then scanned the vast grounds of the relay station complex.
The buildings came in a variety of sizes, yet they were all placed aesthetically and with vast greenbelt and park-like areas between them. It was all well-maintained and designed more for pedestrian rather than motorized traffic. Angus could barely see the edge of the production building from around the west side of the transmission pyramid. It had to be a mile away. The REVs could cover the distance in less than a minute at full sprint, but they couldn’t do that. Running would attract too much attention. A brisk walk was in order.
“Get back to the Zanzibar,” he said to Ashley. “We’ll keep you up to date on the comm. Now hurry.”
The REVs rushed off across the quad.
Ashley had the same problem as the REVs. The spaceport was easily a couple of miles away. At some point she might be able to flag down a transport; there were traffic ribbons along the outskirts of the complex. But for now she had to hoof it. She took off at a fast walk.
“Stop!” Amber called out in Ashley’s ear bug.
“What is it?” She stopped in her tracks, tense and on alert.
“You need to get me to the main trans
mission building.”
“What?”
“Take me to the transmission building…now!”
23
Once again, Zac came awake with the help of RG-9. He knew this because he was instantly aware, without the groggy hangover associated with waking naturally from a drug-induced sleep. He was also angry. When would the fucking Qwin stop pumping him full of drugs? He knew the molded metal collar he wore around his neck could hold a variety of concoctions, and it seemed the aliens were bound and determined to use every last one they had in their arsenal on his already stressed out system.
Then Zac panicked, feeling a sense of vertigo.
He was floating in the air, thirty feet or so above the floor.
A moment later he realized it was just an illusion. Rather than floating, he was resting on a transparent floor made of glass or plastic. He looked around, his pulse returning to normal, and he found he was in a large box placed two-thirds up a wall of metal. He was no longer in his cell; neither was he strapped to a bed. Instead, he was dressed in gray overalls and wearing very normal-looking Human tennis shoes. He climbed to his feet.
He was indeed inside a clear plastic box, approximately four foot square on the bottom and reaching seven or eight feet high. There was a small electronic module on the ceiling. His container was attached to the wall, with a set of doors facing each other.
Zac looked beyond his transparent cell. Above him was a catwalk with railing. There were a few Antaere and Enif looking down at him. Above was a large domed ceiling, interlaced with huge flat viewing screens. One showed him looking up, surveying his surroundings. The imaged zoomed in.
“Welcome, Zac Murphy,” said a voice through the module in the ceiling of his box. Zac recognized it as that of Congin Bornak. “I hope you had a pleasant rest. You will need all your strength for the coming event.”
“What’s going on? Where am I?” Zac couldn’t think of anything wittier to say. He wished he could, but at the moment he was fighting the nausea and blurry eyesight that came with his involuntary cascading in the face of the fear and uncertainty of his situation. This wasn’t how it used to be, before the alien NT-4 had been introduced to his system. He took several deep breaths to calm down.