Boneshaker

by Joshua Dalzelle

  "Captain Webb wasn't messing around with sending backup."

  He climbed out of the seat with a groan and walked back to the cargo bay to greet his guests. By the time the ship's ramp hit the hangar deck with a metal-on-metal bang, the two battlesynths were already standing there.

  "707," he greeted the one standing to the right.

  "Lieutenant Brown," Combat Unit 707 replied. "This is my network intrusion and counterespionage specialist, Combat Unit 784. Combat Unit 701 is watching over our ship. We are here to assist you in completing your mission."

  "I'd be lying if I said I didn't need the help," Jacob said, nodding politely to 784. "You guys still going by your designation numbers or…" he left the question hanging.

  "That is acceptable," 707 said. "There has been some…discussion…about adopting names as a way to fit in with our hosts on Terranovus, but we have yet to reach an agreement."

  "What's your opinion?"

  "I am one of the undecided holdouts."

  "Well…come on aboard, and I'll brief you on just how bad this shit show has gotten," Jacob said.

  Over the next ninety minutes, he laid out how poorly their search for the Eagle's Talon had gone, how One World seemed mixed up in it, and that they were now shutting down everything until they learned where their missing teammate was. 707 took the entire brief in his usual stoic manner, which was useless for Jacob when trying to figure out what the hulking machine thought about what they'd done so far. For some reason, the battlesynth's approval of him meant something, and he really couldn't figure out why.

  "I agree that all effort must be made in recovering Corporal Levin," 707 said finally. "Captain Webb agreed to give me your location when the other Scout Fleet units were being eliminated in the field. My original intent was simply to protect you and, by proxy, your team. However, I feel like we can be of better use helping you meet your objectives so you can return to base safely."

  "Can't argue either way," Jacob said. "We should probably—"

  "Someone approaches the ship," 784 said, his voice making Jacob jump. 707 had the deep baritone one would naturally expect from such a being, but 784's voice was pitched up almost half an octave and had an odd accent. It just reinforced to him that these were sentient individuals, not autonomous kill-bots that were all just copies of each other.

  "That's Tulden," Jacob said, peering around 784 to look at the monitors. "He's ConFed Intel with a lot of connections here on the station, so he probably already knows you're here. No point in having you hide."

  "We did not try to disguise our presence," 707 said. "If this Tulden is an agent of any worth, he will know we are here."

  "We got a hit on your crewmate's com unit," Tulden said as the ramp dropped, not bothering to greet him. "It was a short ping. It's possible whoever is holding him let their shielding slip for a moment."

  "It is more likely this was deliberate, and this is a trap," 707 rumbled.

  "Agreed," Tulden said, eyeing the two battlesynths. "You've been keeping secrets from me, Lieutenant."

  "And will continue to do so," Jacob said. "They're with me and operating independently from Khepri. That's all I can say about them." Khepri was the homeworld of the pru, the species that created the synth race. Khepri was also one of the Pillar Worlds, a signatory of the original ConFed charter and ally of Miressa. The political implications of a few of Khepri's battlesynths roaming around with Terran military could be sticky.

  "They're free beings," Tulden said, sounding disinterested. "Synth mercenaries aren't unheard of."

  "We are not—"

  "Supposed to be talking," Jacob cut off 707's indignant outburst. "I'm paying you to fight, not interrupt."

  "As you wish," 707 said, his voice flat. Jacob shuddered inwardly at what might have happened if the battlesynth hadn't caught onto the ruse and decided it'd had enough of his mouth.

  "I'll give you the location, but you're on your own recovering your crewmate," Tulden said. "I'm not getting involved in what's likely an internal Terran squabble."

  "I won't need you," Jacob said. "The location?" Tulden tossed him a data card that 784 snatched out of the air, reaching in front of Jacob's face before he could even get his hand up.

  "There's the location and a couple other helpful things on there," Tulden said. "I'll be in touch." Jacob watched the agent walk away, disappearing into the thin crowd near the main entrance.

  "What do you guys think?"

  "While it may be a trap, we will still need to investigate," 707 said. "Would you like us to do it and report back?"

  "No! We're going. Taylor is our man…but I'd appreciate any help you can give me."

  "You will have it," 784 said, seeming to approve of Jacob's insistence of fighting his own battles.

  16

  "You okay, MG?"

  "Locked, cocked, ready to rock, LT." MG smiled. "Let's go get our boy."

  "Okay, nothing fancy…let's just take it to them. Battlesynths will be on point, Murph and Mettler will watch our six," Jacob said. "Let's move."

  Planning a military operation within a space station that, at least on the surface, was a civilian shipping hub was a challenge. Colton Hub might have a wild west vibe to it, but a fully armed assault team with two battlesynths piling out of a ship and storming up the main corridors would get them some unwanted attention from the various private security firms that kept the peace.

  In order to keep their rescue op discreet, Jacob had been forced to rent storage space well away from the main market areas. They'd then loaded up one of their grav-sleds with all the gear they thought they'd need, packed away in black plastic transit cases, and set up a hasty operations center, complete with medical equipment for Mettler to treat Taylor, if necessary. It was over two kilometers away from the ship, which Jacob didn't like, but it offered them a semi-fortified position to fall back to in case things went completely haywire.

  "I detect no hidden anti-personnel devices," 784 said as they approached the area where the com unit had been detected.

  "Advance," Jacob ordered, his weapon up and ready. The area they searched wasn't like the partitioned rooms near the market areas or the living quarters. They weaved through a labyrinth of pipes and conduit. Tulden had marked the area as part of the fresh water reclamation system on the map he'd given them. The noises from the pipes groaning and banging, as well as the whine of boost pumps kicking on and off, muffled their approach, but it also made it easier for someone to set up an ambush.

  "Standby, we will clear the area," 707 said when they reached the exact point where the com unit had been detected. When the battlesynth commander rounded the corner, Jacob could see it pause, standing up a little straighter and looking quickly his direction.

  "Is it him?" Jason asked, a lump in his throat.

  "Not…entirely," 707 said, standing aside.

  A human hand, severed at the wrist in such a ragged manner it looked like it had been torn off, lay on the floor next to a deactivated com unit. There was little doubt whose hand it was.

  "Mettler, come take care of this," he said, bending down and picking up the com unit. A shadow fell over him, and he looked over to see 784 looming over him, holding out his hand expectantly. Jacob just shrugged and handed the device over.

  The battlesynth retreated some distance before trying to turn on the device, obviously concerned it was booby-trapped in some way. After a minute's inspection, he came back and handed it to Jacob. "They have left instructions."

  Let's trade. I want the core, you want the rest of Corporal Levin back. No tricks or games, Brown. Bring the core to Zimic Deck, section 45-3. Come alone or the next piece you get might be one Levin can't live without.

  Jacob wordlessly handed the unit over to Murph and turned to watch Mettler doing his best to stabilize the appendage with the limited gear he had. The look on his face told Jacob he didn't have a lot of hope it would work.

  "This is all the way on the other side of the fucking station!" Murph fumed. "Thi
s was just to screw with us or to delay us. The next one will be a trap."

  "Tell Tulden to meet us down here," Jacob said. "I'm having some suspicions about who's pulling the strings here."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," Jacob said. "That message…it was written by a human."

  "Fuck me…it's in English," Murph muttered. "I've been out here so long that all the languages start to just blur together because of the implant."

  "Make the call."

  "Lieutenant Brown," Tulden greeted him when he walked into the area. The agent still showed that same lack of fear when approaching them and had readily agreed to come down to where they were. Jacob wasn't sure how he felt about the agent being so openly accommodating.

  "Where is Elton Hollick?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Elton Hollick…the man who told you we were coming when you were watching that door where you ambushed us. Where is he?"

  "I don't know, exactly," Tulden admitted, recovering quickly from his surprise. "A man by that name contacted a colleague of mine, who put me in touch with him directly. He told me a human crew posing as smugglers had the data core I pursued and would bring it to Colton Hub. He was even so kind as to give me the name of the contact and location of the drop."

  "And he just did this out of the goodness of his heart?" Jacob asked.

  "Of course not," Tulden scoffed. "We made a deal. He's the one who informed me there were Earth ships within the rogue fleet that attacked Miressa Prime. He wanted a specific ship…a cruiser called the Eagle's Talon. In exchange for the data core and the fleet's exact location, I was to provide him with the ship once the ConFed battlefleet moved to eliminate it."

  "Wait! That's where you got the fleet location from? Hollick?" Jacob raised his hand to interrupt. "You never mentioned that."

  "I'm an operative, Lieutenant," Tulden said. "I never volunteer information when I don't have to. After he and I came to an agreement, I made some inquiries with my contacts in the fleet and found out they're not quite as ready to move as we'd assumed."

  "So, what is all this about?!" Jacob shouted, waving at the bloody stain on the deck. "This asshole is carving up my crew!"

  "When I didn't simply kill you all and search your ship, I assume Hollick thought I had double-crossed him and was now working with you," Tulden said. His voice was almost clinical as he surveyed the macabre scene. "I suppose that's technically true, but I'm getting the feeling this is personal. He wants you to suffer."

  "It's personal," Jacob confirmed. "You're saying you don't know where he is?"

  "He's quite skilled. I'm embarrassed to say I've not been able to track him down as of yet, but we're still working on it."

  "If I don't get my guy back, the core is as good as gone," Jacob said.

  "Ah," Tulden said. "So now, I should be motivated to help you locate your antagonist. I have to say, Lieutenant, that getting mixed up in an internal human squabble isn't something I'm interested in."

  "Just flush him out or get him to come at us," Jacob said. "You don't have to go to him, but we need a location where he might be keeping my teammate." Tulden just stared at him for a moment, his face expressionless.

  "Let me see what I can do," he finally said. "There are a few favors owed to me by the larger security firm aboard this station. They might have better luck tracking Hollick's hiding spot down." Jacob gave him the location of the rented storage space they used as a base of operations.

  "You have two hours."

  "If I can do it at all I'll have it done in one," Tulden said, recording the location on his own device

  "It was not wise to trust him," 707 said once Tulden retreated.

  "I'm desperate," Jacob admitted. "This was needlessly brutal. Hollick is doing this because it's fun for him. If I can't find Taylor within the next couple hours, I don't think I'll see him alive again."

  "I put a tracking dot on Tulden when he was— Never mind…he must have found it already," Murph said. "The signal just died."

  "Let's pull back to the forward base and wait to see if Tulden comes through before we make any other moves," Jacob said. What remained of Team Obsidian, dejected and with wounds you could see, and those you couldn't, trudged back to their holdout.

  "It was a hand for a hand…see." Elton Hollick wiggled the fingers of his prosthetic hand in front of Taylor Levin's remaining eye. The Marine Corporal let out a ragged breath but said nothing.

  "Not a big irony fan, huh? That's okay. This will soon be over. Once I can get that data core from your dipshit teammates, I'll be on my way. It really is a shame they moved it like that, huh? You withstood a level of torture I've never had to inflict on someone…and it was for nothing. When you finally gave up the location, it wasn't even there anymore. How's that make you feel?"

  "Just end it," Taylor rasped. "I'm no use to you anymore."

  "Just murder you? In cold blood? That's a little barbaric, don't you think?" Hollick thoroughly enjoyed himself. Torturing Levin had thrilled him in a way that caused a part of his mind to recoil in horror. Now that he was free to do what he wanted, even if it was ostensibly in service to Margaret Jansen, he was beginning to understand those hidden urges he'd always carried. He now realized that, deep down, he'd always been a sadist.

  He looked over at the ruined mess that had once been a strong, faithful Marine, and it gave him a dark thrill to have broken him in both body and spirit. When he was an NIS agent, he'd had to repress these feelings as even a quasi-terrorist group like One World would likely frown upon his methods, but he had to admit they got results. He just had to be careful to keep a tight lid on it and not get sloppy.

  When he'd grabbed Taylor Levin, he'd thought it would be a quick interrogation. How could some dumb grunt hold out against a trained NIS agent that had specialized in information extraction? But the kid had proven to be a tough nut to crack, and in doing so, had sealed his own fate. Once things started to get ugly—really ugly—it had quickly devolved from an interrogation into a mindless orgy of brutality. When, finally, the Marine could take no more, it had taken all of Hollick's self-control to stop. By the time he'd snuck back into the hangar and managed to get aboard their ship via an external maintenance hatch, the core had already been moved. Apparently, Brown wasn't as foolish as he'd hoped.

  Now, Hollick was stuck. He had no idea where the rest of Obsidian was, where the core was, where Tulden was, and now, he would likely have a body to dispose of since, without medical attention soon, Corporal Levin wasn't long for this world. As he pondered his options, one of his clean com units chimed with an incoming message.

  "Convenient," he muttered, reading through the message from the ConFed spook. Tulden wanted to meet in person to discuss how to salvage the operation now that Obsidian had gone underground. Hollick narrowed his eyes at that, not sure he believed everything he was reading. After considering all available actions, he decided on the most direct and sent Tulden a response. He'd need to be careful. The ConFed agent was disciplined, smart, and he knew the area better than Hollick did.

  "I'm afraid our time has come to an end, Corporal," Hollick said, slipping two com units into his pocket and collecting the other things he'd need. "If your friends get here in time, you'll survive…though I wouldn't plan on entering any beauty pageants. Nothing personal, sport. This is a tough business. Who knows…one day, I'll probably find myself strapped to a chair just like you when I meet my end."

  "We can only hope," Taylor said. "The LT is going to kill you. You've seen what he can do, how fast he is. You'll try to take him down, and he'll tear your head off your neck." It was the most Taylor had said since the real torment had begun, and the comment shook Hollick more than he would have liked to admit.

  "We'll see," he said, quickly leaving the room.

  17

  "He should be back by now."

  "He's two minutes overdue, Murph," Jacob said.

  "The two hours was a maximum estimate," Murph said. "It shouldn't be taking this long. We're
in the middle of a three-headed counterintelligence operation involving us, ConFed Intelligence, and One World. I think we need to consider the possibilities that Tulden sold us out and we're at risk by staying here in a location he knows."

  "Sergeant Murphy's reasoning is sound," 707 rumbled. Jacob looked to the battlesynth, but the stoic machine offered no further commentary.

  "So, we go back to the ship?" Jacob asked.

  "That's my suggestion," Murph said. "Abandon everything here that isn't sensitive and haul ass back to the ship. Tulden will be able to figure out where we are, and we'll be in a place neither can easily attack us at. The hangars are all closely guarded by station security."

  "Fine," Jacob said. "Pack it up and let's move. Leave anything that can be left."

  All of the gear issued to Scout Fleet was either sourced through contracts by alien suppliers or designed and built so as to not be traceable back to Earth. All of the medical, com gear, and even some of the weapons could all be left without fear of someone finding it and knowing a Terran team was operating out of the room. Jacob had paid for the space with forged credentials and untraceable credit chits.

  After the team had quickly broken down the gear and organized themselves for movement, Jacob waved them towards the door. The two battlesynths left first, taking point. They'd only made it through two intersections when 707 stopped short, raising an alloy fist to stop them all. Jacob moved past MG and 784 to see what the holdup was.

  "Your ConFed agent is up ahead," 707 said. "He is slumped against the wall and appears to be bleeding quite badly."

  "Shit," Jacob muttered, peering around the corner. Tulden was on the ground, obviously hurt badly, but still looked alive. "You think it's a trap set by Hollick?"