There was a whirring noise from the hatch. It started up irregularly, and steadied. “What is it?” Mattoso whispered to Konami.
“CI,” called out a deputy. “That’s a drill.”
“A drill? You sure?”
“I’m a first class machine tech, and I know the sound of all the drills onboard. That’s an eight centimeter drill.”
Something passed over Konami’s face.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mattoso.
Konami raised his voice for everyone to hear. “Grab cover and pull back! Pull back! Any cover that will fit through the hatch, take with you, but pull back to reserve point two immediately!”
It was pandemonium as fifty Aoteans scrambled to get through the back hatch, hauling the cover with them.
He just gestured to the hatch. Mattoso looked back just as a circle of alloy thrust loose, floating free, into the workspace. Something else followed it with a high pitched whine.
“Take cover!” she shouted, ducking, and a ball of fire erupted from the bulkhead.
CHAPTER 77
Konami’s eyes sprang open to movement — he was being hauled roughly down a passageway. He looked down — past his feet, deputies were stacking furniture and other obstructions at the end of the passageway, where it opened into reserve point two.
“You’re awake!” It was Mattoso, hauling him.
“The — the hatch—”
“Yeah, I got the gist of what you were trying to do — stack everything, slow down the traitors to buy us time.” She shook her head. “Though with those weapons, I don’t know how time will help.” It must have been some sort of rocket grenade launcher that shot through the drill-hole.
He shook free and, despite a rush of vertigo, pulled himself along beside the Lieutenant. He cringed at a pain in his left leg — when he reached down, there was blood. He ignored it, popping a tablet Medical had provided earlier. Someone reported that they were clearing the deepest supply closets as hiding places for the children.
The children… For some reason he thought back to Gregorian, before he shot himself. The children? They aren’t the future either… Gregorian had said.
“We’re going to reserve point three, and you’re going to Medical.”
Oh my god. The children. “No,” he almost shouted. “Not Medical. I need to see the captain.”
“I don’t understand,” said the XO.
Deputies were piling up every possible obstruction, even dense ration blocks, in the passageway connecting reserve points two and three. But even in the pandemonium of pushing back the non-combatants, the mayor, captain, and XO had rushed to point three when Konami called.
He hoped their trust was warranted.
“It’s the children,” explained Konami. “That’s what Kiro said. Before he died. He said ‘the children aren’t the future’. Well if they aren’t, then what is? Someone’s gotta be this New Humanity, right?”
“So, who?” asked the mayor.
“The genebank. Ngayabo’s a geneticist. That’s the only thing she’s ever cared about. She’s planning on killing everyone onboard — maybe even her own people. Kiro didn’t just say the children weren’t the future, he said we weren’t either, him included. Maybe he knew.”
“Okay, CI,” started the captain. Konami realized a gun was in her hand. “Suppose you’re right. How does that help us right now? We’re already fighting for our lives.”
He shook his head. Fuck. “If we only had a way out… We need a counterattack. On the genebank. Without that, Ngayabo’s got nothing. Her whole plan goes to shit.”
The mayor complained that there was no way out except through the enemy.
The captain pressed her lips together. “That’s not entirely true.”
Everyone looked at her. She explained that there was a design flaw that could be exploited for a small group to exit the Fortress. Apparently no one but the Captain and the deceased Engineer Papka knew about. She asked the XO and he didn’t know about it either.
Loesser interrupted them on Konami’s wearable – the enemy was past point two, on their way to point three, with maybe 15 minutes of delay at most.
The captain continued. “Habitability machinery room number two. Room was sized wrong, and the aft bulkhead had to be much smaller than planned. It’s less than a centimeter thick, opening into a passageway with moveway access.”
Thin enough to cut open.
“So we can get there,” started the mayor. “But what do we do then? We don’t have any explosives.”
Konami thumbed in a call. “Bea, how’s it coming?”
There was a sound of conversation in the background, then she came on the line. “Fifteen minutes, they say. An hour for a detonator.”
Konami replied that they’d need the bomb in five minutes, and not to worry about the detonator. He explained that he just sent Mattoso to find the Chem Techs to rig up a bomb.
“But what about the detonator?” asked the mayor.
“No time, but that’s okay. It’s a binary explosive — two chemicals inert on their own, but explosive together with a spark. Don’t need a detonator to mix and light up.”
“You mean you’re going to blow yourself up,” added the captain.
Konami just looked at her, and she nodded grimly.
The XO reported that welders were on their way to cut the bulkhead open.
The machinery room took the word “cramped” to a whole new level, especially with the welding team. And the armed deputies, just in case they found any resistance outside. If we do, thought Konami, this might be the end of the battle, and almost twenty thousand Aoteans.
Luckily, the welders were relatively silent — Konami had been worried the noise could attract attention.
“Loesser, report.”
“Heavy losses, hand-to-hand—” Grunts and impacts followed. “Heavy losses for the traitors — unnh! — too.”
“How long?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”
“We’re tougher than I thought. Loesser out.”
Konami shared the news with the captain and mayor just as Mattoso arrived with a Chem Tech, who held up an ugly looking package the size of two fists, wrapped in tape. “Smash it against a bulkhead to mix, and light this wick. That’s all there is to it.” She handed Konami a little poly ampule that would apparently create a small flame.
The welders were almost done, and Mattoso asked him about his weapons – three slugthrowers each, with plenty of extra ammo.
He tried to think of something profound to say, but all he could think of was “Goodbye, Bea. If you don’t hear something in twenty minutes, send another—”
“Not for you, Cy. You’re wounded. For me.” Mattoso abruptly took the bomb and lighter, along with a gun and several magazines.
“But... the bomb. You’ll have to—”
“No I won’t,” she interrupted with a wry grin, moving to the side. Behind her, gripping the guycable, was a MOMbot.
CHAPTER 78
“Say hello, Zinnia.”
“Hello, Chief Inspector Konami.”
Konami just blinked, and the welders wrapped up their work. Mattoso overheard one Tech tell the XO that a strong kick would open the bulkhead.
“Alright Cy, we’re kind of in a hurry, so I’ll just say that I’ll see you in a bit.”
As she turned toward the bulkhead, Konami grabbed her shoulder.
“Wait. I’m coming too.”
“Come on Cy, your leg—”
“Don’t need legs much in freefall. Don’t argue, I’m coming.”
She took a deep breath, but inside she was beaming. “Let’s go.”
With a mild crash, they rammed their way through the bulkhead. Thankfully, the passageway was deserted. Konami ordered Zinnia to lead the way. The bot nodded her furry, toy-like head, and moved. Data Tech Wren had provided the route to Genetics to Zinnia, and the Bot moved down the passageway, finding unseen gri
ps along the bulkheads almost too fast to follow.
Mattoso noticed Konami gritting his teeth at the speed. “Need to slow down?” she whispered.
“No, goddamnit.”
Damn tough guy ego... “Zinnia, if we grab your legs, will it slow you down?”
“I am capable of a much higher rate of speed than this.”
At this, Konami’s eyes went wide. “Then let us grab you and then go as fast as you can.”
To spare Konami’s leg, Mattoso grabbed the MOMbots stubby legs and Konami trailed behind, hands on her ankles.
“Go!” ordered Konami, and Mattoso took off.
The MOMbot wasn’t kidding. The ride was bumpier than a Cerean minecar, but they were into the moveway level in seconds, and across a railing faster than the moveways ever went when they actually had power. The MOMbot’s movement, hand-over-hand on any protuberance larger than a pea, was distinctly simian, taking Mattoso back to childhood nature vids of long-gone rainforests on Earth.
They reached the surface, still crisscrossed with guycables, and Zinnia wasted no time selecting one. Flying across the Can was the most exhilarating rush Mattoso had felt in weeks — until a gunshot rang out.
Konami cursed loudly. “We’re spotted!”
Zinnia reported they were less than a minute from the genetics lab.
Mattoso cringed as Konami returned fire. “How can you aim moving like this?”
“I can’t. But maybe we’ll keep their heads down.”
Seconds later they were behind the cover of structures on the Can’s surface.
“They’ll have reinforcements on their way,” said Konami.
“Assuming they don’t already have a squad of guards.” But scouting missions had passed near the Genetics lab in the past, and didn’t note anything of consequence.
The genebanks were located in the Repro office inside the Genetics section of one of the larger science structures. There were no guards at the entrance, nor at the entrance to the Genetics section. But at the next passageway, Zinnia stopped, reporting that she heard others down a junction.
Mattoso turned to Konami. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Zinnia, wait until we call for you.”
They silently pulled across the bulkhead to the junction.
Konami peaked his head around for a moment, then turned to Mattoso. “One guard.” He drew a dart gun. “I don’t see armor. Five seconds.”
Before she could object he sailed into the junction, and she heard the whisper-puff of the dart gun firing. “Clear,” said Konami, and she joined him hovering over the prone, floating guard.
The MOMbot rejoined them as Konami was testing the hatch to Repro, reporting that there were more humans – at least three – behind the hatch.
Shit.
The bomb had to be placed at the inner genebank door; here wasn’t good enough.
Konami pulled over to the maintenance access hatch, ripping it free of the bulkhead with a fury that astonished Mattoso. “This will be our shield,” he said, demonstrating by holding it in front of him. “We each grab a handle and try and stay behind it as much as we can.” He held out the bomb. “Zinnia, you’ll take the bomb, and you’ll man the access wheel. When I give the order, spin it open as fast as you can, and then stay out of sight until you hear another order, then go as fast as you can and smash the bomb against the human genebank door. Is that understood?”
“Understood, Chief Inspector.”
“Good. Bea, you ready?”
The fate of Aotea is in our hands... She nodded.
“Just want to let you know,” said Konami, eyes blazing. “There’s no one onboard I’d rather have with me for this than you.”
He gave the order, and Zinnia spun open the door like the maw of some great, yawning beast.
CHAPTER 79
They burst through the door with a kick to the opposite bulkhead, and were met with a hail of bullets and flechettes. The access hatch absorbed them with a brief drum solo, and Konami funneled his rage into returning fire around the edge of the shield. He could barely see, covered as they were — it was a greeting area, with a single desk and several seats. He thought he counted four shooters — one behind the desk, and the others at a corner passageway that led to their target.
Gotta make this quick... He knew reinforcements could be there in minutes.
“Cover me!” he said to Mattoso, and at a lull in the shooting, dove from behind the shield for the desk.
White hot fire ripped through his hip. Don’t need legs... don’t need hips... He hit the desk and hauled himself, one-handed, over the lip, hurling bodily into a surprised traitor. The man tried to bring his gun up but Konami was quicker, and shot him through the throat.
“Zinnia, come in but stay behind Mattoso’s shield!”
Shots rang out from the corner and Konami swiveled to put the desk in between them.
“Bea, ideas?” If he sent Zinnia now, the Bot would be shot to pieces in seconds.
There was a wet feeling on his legs — he looked down, and it was blood. Somehow the pain was vague, like an echo of a real wound.
“Yeah, advance,” she replied. “Use the desk!”
Without waiting for him to respond, Mattoso charged forward with the MOMbot huddled behind her shield. Konami didn’t hesitate, and kicked forward with the desk awkwardly thrust in front of him. A hail of flechettes sent shards of poly flying, but the desk held together, banging into Mattoso’s shield at the corner passageway. One traitor was floating motionless, but the others had retreated down the passage into an office, shooting periodically and keeping Konami and Mattoso, along with Zinnia, behind their cover.
“What now?” asked Mattoso.
Konami glanced around him. “No way to brace ourselves to kick down the passage, and moving hand over hand will be impossible with our shields.”
“Chief Inspector,” cut in Zinnia, “humans have entered this structure and are approaching.”
Oh shit. “Zinnia, shut that hatch as fast as you can and hold it shut.” The MOMbot moved in a flash. “Is there another way out? Zinnia?”
“Down that passage, to the left, and down another to the right, there is an exit into the—”
“That’ll have to do.”
Just as the MOMbot slammed shut the hatch, there was a pounding noise on it.
“I’m gonna have to—”
Mattoso interrupted him. “No, Cy. You were wrong — there is something to brace against. If you hold this part of the bulkhead, I can kick off you with the shield. That should be enough of a distraction and you can send Zinnia through.”
A whirring noise sounded at the hatch.
Goddamnit. She was right. Konami squeezed his eyes shut and told her to do it, holding tightly to a protuberance in the bulkhead. She set her feet against his chest and shot off like a rocket, sending spider lines of pain up and down his body as a drumroll of gunshots rang out.
The Chief Inspector gave the lighter to Zinnia and told her to wait 15 seconds and then light the bomb. He didn’t wait for the Bot to respond, hurling the desk forward and scrambling afterwards, both hands free, to pull himself down the passage.
The gunshots had stopped and a second later he saw why — Mattoso was sprawled out against a bulkhead, bleeding from a smattering of gunshots, while the two remaining assailants drifted motionless into the office. Konami grabbed her by a hand and pulled her roughly along, passing by the door marked GENEBANK — COLONISTS. As soon as he rounded the corner he called out for Zinnia at the top of his lungs, shutting his eyes and wrapping himself around Mattoso, bracing for a blast that came moments later.
CHAPTER 80
“Need more hemo!” shouted Madani. The patient was losing consciousness — they had patched up the wound in her leg, but she had lost a lot of blood. More patients were streaming in.
Medical in Fortress Deep was a cramped series of former storage rooms, with barely enough room in between beds to pass. If it weren’t for the creative bed-sta
cking that freefall allowed, their capacity would be cut in half.
Madani tried to ignore it and focus on her job, even as a niggling part of her brain made the obvious connection between the rate of wounded arrivals and the progress of their battle against the traitors. And even more than her worries about the battle, she felt a crushing dread — dread that one of the arriving wounded would be Konami. Or maybe it was dread that it wouldn’t... for the dead weren’t sent to medical.
Her wearable buzzed. MedTech Saito brought a bag of hemo and Madani helped her connect it to the patient. In Main Medical, they would have had more space, automated hemo connections, and the assistance of MedBots. But there was no time to complain about the facilities, only time to treat and to heal.
“Losing number four!” shouted a young MedTech. Madani rushed over — his heartbeat was erratic and weakening. She called out for a stabilizer and injected it into the patient’s IV. Goddamnit... his heartbeat kept slowing.
“Rana, number four gunshot is transmediastinal, unstable. Transfer to emer surgery and start thoracotomy.”
“Chief!” a voice called out. “Dr. Madani!”
Madani turned — it was a constable, Goodluck. Her heart went into her stomach when she saw what he carried.
“Saito! Clear two beds!”
“But... which—”
“Four is clearing. And... nine.”
“But nine is the Bigwig! He’s been in a coma since—”
“No, he’s fine. Put him in the waiting area. That’s an order, MedTech.”
Madani rushed over to Goodluck, taking Konami gently and pulling him to bed number four, directing Goodluck to bring Mattoso to nine.
“They did it, Doctor,” said the constable while she located the wounds on the groaning Konami — two flechette wounds – pelvis and leg. She almost bawled, she was so relieved the wounds weren’t life-threatening.
She pulled aside a MedTech. “Standard connections on four; clean and disinfect the wounds.” After the MedTech acknowledged, she turned back to Goodluck. “What do you mean ‘they did it?’”
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