by In Churl Yo
Arsenal found the door, tried its latch, which easily gave way, and opened a crack into the adjacent hallway.
A peek outside confirmed his suspicion that the section had all but been abandoned. It was just a low-level security area, hardly a priority. A small force couldn’t hope to keep tabs on the whole facility, something he was counting on if his plan was going to work.
He made his way down the corridor toward the office suite. The gray vinyl flooring and cold LED light produced a sterile feel, and the whole place was dead quiet, save for the padding of his own feet, which to him boomed like cannon shots every time his boots hit the floor.
The entrance to the operations department appeared at an intersection, and Arsenal attached a cable from his cufflink to its lock interface, accessing the protocols he’d need to break to get inside. Once he established a connection, he checked the video feeds.
Someone was still at work.
Arsenal watched the technician for a few minutes, who had his feet up on the desk and looked utterly bored, then cycled through the rest of the security cameras to make sure they were alone. The rest of the basement appeared to be clear. Quickly then, Arsenal pulled a shiny marble from his pack and pressed a small button on it. With the door now unlocked, he opened it, threw the marble inside the ops center and slammed it shut. A muffled thud vibrated through the walls as the concussive force of the flash-bang did its work. He stepped inside, secured the door behind him and admired the result—the technician was out cold.
He kicked the body aside and sat in the worker’s chair. Manning the virtual keyboard, Arsenal entered the Ceres station’s operations systems and had a look around. He was going to have to hurry. If he had any hope of completing his mission and getting to his extraction point on time, he had to code fast.
“I need a distraction,” he said to himself aloud. “What to do? What to do?”
He drilled down through the various subsystems.
“I could fake an alarm, but that would actually make it harder for me to move around.”
Using his fingers, he flipped across several open windows on the virtual display, then expanded one until it filled the air in front of him. “What do you think?” Arsenal asked the unconscious man on the floor next to him. “Should I pump all the air out and kill everyone here?”
He paused for an imaginary response.
“No? Well, you’re no fun.”
The Kiter resumed typing, looking for an alternative. “What I need is for all the doors to be open…Doors…open…Oh. Wait a sec.” A smile spread across his mouth, and he started nodding his head in agreement. “Brilliant, Arsenal.”
He pulled up the video feed to the station’s main entrance. The crowd of scavengers was still there.
The program was easy enough to write. The Ceres facility already housed several contingency files in its database for any number of emergency scenarios. Arsenal simply appropriated the necessary code and added his own flair to it. He lifted his hands away from the virtual keyboard and held them up, wiggling his fingers as if to play the final bars of a rousing piano concerto. When he felt ready, he leaned into the keys and wrote the executing line of code with a flourish. A moment later, every door inside the compound swung open and an alarm rang out.
Arsenal took the technician’s overalls and put them on, then casually walked out into the hallway toward a nearby stairwell.
# # #
A young corporal sat up straight in his seat when the alarm sounded. He frantically tried to determine the reason for the siren, but the readouts on his virtual displays gave up nothing. As far as the system was concerned, everything was normal. That probably wasn’t going to fly when Captain Marshall asked him what the hell was going on, so he tried to dig deeper. He knew he wouldn’t have much time before the officer showed up demanding answers.
“Report!”
The corporal shook his head and offered a faint smile. “I’m not entirely sure, sir.”
Marshall took a second to get control of her breathing, as she had sprinted from the far side of the building and climbed several flights to reach the command center.
“Just tell me what you know, Corporal,” she said.
“It all checks out. I’ve got nothing, except…”
“Except, what?”
“I think the locks are busted. All the doors show green, which means they’re wide open. Somehow the locking bolts have all recessed, which makes them impossible to close.”
The captain leaned toward the virtual display and studied the facility map. “Damn. We have a bigger problem than that,” she said and immediately sent a call out to her C.O. When the light flashed in her visor that the signal had connected, Marshall started talking: “Sir, we’ve got trouble at the main gate.”
“I’m almost there now,” the major replied. “Where are we on the evacuation?”
“We still have VIPs gathering the last of their research in the main laboratory. Most of the support staff went out on the last transport drone.”
“Alright, I want you to pull everyone back to the main lab and seal it however you can. CBRN protocols are now in place—everyone in breathers, no exceptions. And nobody gets in or out without my authorization, doors or no doors. Those scientists must be protected no matter what, Captain.”
“Sir,” Marshall acknowledged, then pulled the corporal’s collar until he came out of his chair. “Let’s go. We’re falling back.”
The giant metal door to the Ceres facility anchored adjoining twelve-foot walls that surrounded the entire property—normally a good deterrent against outside forces bent on getting in. A large plaza spread out from the entrance, offering a wide view of several surrounding buildings and storage facilities. The major lined his men up at the far side of this open space, facing the main door.
He adjusted his visor for a closer look. The door had indeed been compromised, and scavengers were pouring in—men, women, children—all hungry, all desperate. They were already inside the East Barracks, while others were moving toward the warehouse. It was entirely possible that some might have even gotten past their flank. A blinking light in his periphery notified him of an incoming call from Marshall.
“Tell me you have good news, Captain.”
“I’m afraid not, sir. There aren’t enough breathers to go around to protect all the VIPs. Most of the inventory is in the supply depot.”
“Which is off the main plaza,” the major replied.
“That’s affirmative, sir.”
“Alright, do what you can. If you see any non-Ceres personnel, you’re cleared to fire. It’s possible those people are carrying the virus, and we can’t risk infecting the scientists. Their protection is our primary mission here. You understand those orders?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, then a beat later added, “Major Nox, sir?”
“What is it, Captain?”
“It’s the right call.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his white hair. This assignment was supposed to be easy, a babysitting job at most. But then, no one envies the man that takes the job no one else wants, he thought, nor do they forgive him for doing it. “Tell me again tomorrow.”
Nox led his men across the field and, when they were close enough, gave the order to open fire. His rifle was the first to discharge.
# # #
Arsenal made it to the base commander’s quarters without so much as a glance in his direction. The distraction he crafted had worked even better than he anticipated. He looked outside through the window, saw the chaos he’d created in the plaza below and smiled.
He sat down at the computer terminal and raised his hands to activate the station. Hopefully, the files here were worth the effort he’d put in today. He hated to think he’d wasted his precious time on a wild goose chase…
Arsenal hacked into the commander’s personal database, looking for top secret or personal documents, anything the Kiters could use against the Ceres Corporation. He drilled down through severa
l directories, hoping to see something jump out at him, when something finally did—a recorded video file, all alone, in a folder marked “Play Me.”
So, he played it.
“Whoever you are, congratulations. You’ve hacked into a secured Ceres database. You don’t know me, but soon everyone on the planet will. My name is Theodore Ogden, and before long I will become the next Chief Executive Officer of the Ceres Corporation.”
Arsenal gave a low whistle at the reveal. He couldn’t yet tell whether the message was going to be good or bad for him, but the future Ceres CEO certainly had his attention.
“We live in a new world, full of new challenges,” Ogden continued, “and because of this, we must adapt to new ways of doing business, which is why I am willing to offer you this deal: instead of a lifetime of incarceration, death or banishment for your crimes, consider working for me.”
“You’re crazy,” Arsenal replied to the video. “No way am I doing that.”
“Before you make any hasty decisions, you should think about how the world currently works,” Ogden said, “as these are indeed troubling times in which we live. Perhaps you are being motivated by false assumptions, bad information. I can promise you nothing, of course, except the truth, and as they say, with truth comes power. Together we could tear down the walls of complacency and ennui that threaten to undermine all that humanity has accomplished.
“Download this video. You’ll find a way to contact me embedded inside the programming code. I’ve cast this message across the entire Ceres network, but it will only stay active until someone answers its call. Perhaps that will be you, if you’re smart. Until then, you’re free to go, but know the rest of the database you’ve hacked into has been erased. You have nothing to take with you today, except a decision to make. Pray it is the right one.”
Arsenal sat back in the chair as the video faded to black. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had surprised him like this. The only person to even come close was Neema.
Neema.
He glanced at the countdown timer in his visor and saw there was only a few minutes left to reach the extraction point. He immediately downloaded Ogden’s file and ran up the nearest stairwell to the roof, just as a drone ship touched down with a burst of dust and gravel swirling in the air.
The rear hatch descended, and Arsenal ran inside.
He sat in the co-pilot’s chair and clipped his harness into place, then gave Neema a thumbs-up. She pulled back on the flight controls, and the drone lifted into the sky.
“Did you find anything useful?” Neema asked.
“Nope. Nothing at all. A complete and total bust.”
The ship banked then, offering a fleeting glance at the facility below. “What happened down there?” she said, pointing to the plaza.
“Hell, if I know. I was busy, remember?”
“It’s a shame,” Neema replied. “All those poor people dead.”
Arsenal relaxed in his seat and close his eyes. His mind, however, remained busy, evaluating a choice he knew he’d soon have to make.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “a real shame.”
CHAPTER 35
For Milton, their progress was slow to roil, thick and sluggish, like a gross stew made of tar and molasses. They were deep in the virtual muck, as the Gaia’s operating system refused to cooperate with the Kiters’ efforts in regaining control over the ship’s computers, making it arduous and frustrating for all involved, especially Milton. He had to sit and watch them fail, over and over, while contributing nothing.
Arsenal was one of them, which meant knowing all their tricks and methods. He used that knowledge now to subvert their efforts against him, strategies they had created together now used to keep them apart, opposing forces locked in a battle royale across a digital divide. That made it extra infuriating—and personal. The Kiters, however, were not alone in their displeasure.
“I still can’t reach anyone,” Dr. Lightsea said. “Communications remain down.”
“We’re working on it,” Neema responded.
“Data streams are unresponsive or completely inaccurate,” he continued. “I need to know what’s happening on my ship.”
“Doc, they’re working on it,” Milton said, then rethought his choice of words and followed with a succinct, “sir.”
“Haven’t you ever played king of the mountain?” Elsif asked.
“A child’s game,” Dr. Lightsea answered.
“Well, yeah, but in this case, pertinent to our situation. See, right now, Arsenal got to the mountaintop first, meaning he took initial control of your computer core, and like in the game, that gives him an advantage, the high ground. We’re running uphill trying to knock him off, but it’s difficult. He’s programmed the system against us, too, which in this analogy is like the actual mountain is fighting us as well. We’re dodging avalanches, having to traverse crevices and wind storms that he’s created to keep us away.”
“But this is what you do, isn’t it?” said Dr. Lightsea. “You’re hackers.”
“Hackers trying to hack a hacker,” Tifa clarified, then added, “Say that three times fast.”
“Hold on. Look there,” said Baller, pointing at Elsif’s virtual display. “That bit right there.”
“Yes. Yes, indeed. Good eye,” Elsif replied. “I can inject a fault glitch—tell the system to give us back control.”
“Make sure you get the timing right,” Neema said. “Watch your frequencies.”
“I am the voltage king,” he replied. A few processing cycles running the administrative access program provided Elsif the correct electrical pattern he needed to introduce the glitch into the software, where he inserted a command into the loop to release control back to him. A few keystrokes later, he sat back in his seat smiling. “We’re in! Tell me I’m awesome.”
“How about you tell us what’s happening instead?” said Baller.
“No rest for the weary,” he muttered. “Tifa, you should have access now too.”
She threw him a thumbs-up in response and began typing on her virtual keyboard. “We’ve got most top-line systems available, but I’m still not able to reach the central computer,” Tifa said.
“Confirmed,” said Elsif. “At any rate, life support and the electrical grid seem to be stable, but…that C-ring breach looks bad. System says that whole area’s unstable and recommends evacuating it. Projections show a potential Level 5 event, which means what?”
Dr. Lightsea sighed. “Catastrophic failure. We could lose the ship.”
The Kiters took turns looking at each other. “Anything we can do from here?” Neema asked.
“Send the evacuation signal to the C-ring,” Dr. Lightsea answered. “Hope that Nox can solve the problem from there. We’re not prepared for any scenario that calls for a complete abandoning of ship—deep-space voyages like the kind we’re attempting preclude having that as a viable option. Where would we abandon to?”
They responded with silence, which pervaded their workspace until someone in their group cleared her throat to speak. “Guys, what about the central computer?” Tifa asked with some urgency. “We could be looking at a whole new mess of problems if we don’t regain control of it.”
“I’ll go,” said Milton. “Access the servers physically.”
“Not alone,” Neema replied. “We’ll go together.”
“I can handle the computer on my own.”
“I know you can, but if I’m right, Arsenal will be waiting.”
“I can handle him, too,” Milton stated. “Gladly.”
Before Neema could respond, she watched a woman run into the command center, falling quickly into an embrace with Dr. Lightsea.
“Madeline,” he said while hugging his wife. “It’s good to see you.”
She held his face in her hands and smiled, allowing herself a moment to gaze into Dr. Lightsea’s eyes. “How’s the Gaia?” she asked him.
“Broken. We don’t know to what extent yet.”
“I�
��m afraid I have more bad news,” she replied, looking around the room. “The lab explosion was no accident. An artificial accelerant was utilized to spread the virus, and none of our countermeasures were engaged. I’ve collected a random sampling of blood tests that confirms it—the entire onboard population has been infected. We’ve all contracted the Zombie Flu in record time, intentionally from what I can tell.”
He offered her a grim nod. “We suspected as much. I suppose a part of me hoped you’d still somehow prove it wrong.” The news was taken in by the others, who sat in stunned silence.
“I have a team analyzing the debris. It’s possible we might still find a sample of the cure. I’m not ready to give up just yet,” Madeline said hopefully, then after a moment, tugged at Dr. Lightsea’s sleeve to whisper in her husband’s ear. “Charles, I need to speak with you in private.”
He excused them from the rest of the group and led her out of the command center to his office, where they sat next to one another behind closed doors. Dr. Lightsea wasted no time before asking about their children.
“Well, the medical staff became completely overwhelmed. I had to leave Alpha before Zoah showed up,” she replied. “I assume she’s safe with Thomas for the time being. No one there knows what’s happened.”
“Small victories. At least they’re together.”
“The antidote. Every bit was destroyed in the explosion.”
“I know,” he said. “We think the person responsible is still somewhere on this ship. Our hope is he has the inoculant on him.”
“There’s another option you may not have considered—the Syrinx.”
Dr. Lightsea’s eyes lit up. “Of course!” he replied and ran across the room to his desk. The virtual desktop appeared when he raised his arms, and he began to drill through his personal files until he found the encrypted classified document he was looking for. “I’ve spent the past year trying to forget the Syrinx even existed. I can’t believe I didn’t think of her before.”
A window opened at eye level in front of him. Cursors blinked as data streams, slow to trickle in, let loose their information. Dr. Lightsea consumed the feed, then stood up and gritted his teeth. “Damn.”