“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Henry, seeing you have ruined my day—go and do some real work.”
******
Chapter 29
“Henry,” reminded Denke. “Our security issue is now acute.”
“I know,” replied now-General Boston wearily. He was managing a transition that filled him with concern, building a new portal team that they now referred to as the Emperor’s Information Agency. “We’ve started to re-build the portal team here. The technicians are putting together their plans. Meanwhile, we’ve stopped all use of portals, except for research and occasional—very occasional—special projects. Special Forces command is screaming.” He rubbed his temples. “With each portal constituting an entrance not only to other portals in the network, but also to the past—and perhaps—when we’re brave enough to explore—to the future.”
Denke said, “We need to monitor every known portal in the network to ensure we have no unauthorized transits. We can use our portal guards and security teams for that. We need to work closely with the Specials to ensure they understand our approach. We’ll have exceptional use circumstances, as always.”
“Of course, we need to continue exploration, but under even tighter control,” added Trench, who had been brought into the senior team. “The research teams must validate the time cue discovery, and validate it again and again. Some barriers may exist that we don’t know about; we need to find out what they are and how to overcome them. All portal travelers must be trained in this spatio-temporal network structure and operation before we open up access again to the network.”
“Agreed. I can delegate these activities to you all. I have to focus on the bureaucrats, the worst problem we have.”
The meeting ended unsatisfactorily, without resolution of pressing issues. Their task was immense and Steg felt that the team was getting lost in the complexities of trying to understand the portal network.
Both he and Millie had worked to find a Homeworld portal while they continued to develop a plan for recovering Homeworld. At times his frustrations increased, as he seemed to spend more time exploring portal network issues than working on what he regarded as his real needs.
Steg met with Denke to raise his frustrations at lack of progress.
“Denke, this has gone on long enough. Millie and I have done some preliminary planning for Homeworld and we want to brief you on this.”
“Speak.”
“We’ve three stages to implement. One, I plan to recruit Djiis to help us, which will minimize use of Special Forces. Tziksis has returned to his planet—one of his nephews is the accredited ambassador to the Empire, and Tziksis holds a very senior military position. As far as I can make out, he’s in charge of the new Djiis star fleet—their Star Admiral. They captured quite a haul of star ships from the Xesset, as you should recall.”
“I do recall, and yes, I agree, contact Tziksis and see what they’ll provide to help you. I can authorize that.”
“The second stage—I process gaining access the House of Aluta’s computer system. I have to be there, on the planet. I’ll take Millie. However, we need papers, transport, cover, etc.”
“Hmmm. No issue with providing cover, documents and so forth. But you run a tremendous risk—Aluta’s a nest of vipers—have you thought this through?”
“Oh, yes. As I said, I must gain access to their systems, and for that, I have to be on Aluta. We can travel as legitimate visitors, or we can use portals. I think we should arrive as legitimate travelers. If we used portals and were subsequently detected on the planet, it’d be impossible to explain our presence.”
“Points taken. You mentioned three stages?”
“Yes. I can mentally time cue destinations, so can you, and now so can half the technical team. I don’t need to work on that any more. I want to take our testing to the next level. I want to test transiting by mentally cueing not just the temporal portion, but also the complete destination code, encompassing both place and time. I can test on known portals and once we establish that I can do it, I want to try for a Homeworld portal. I’m sure it will work. If we find a portal, we have a back door to the planet.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will spit me out somewhere.” He was optimistic. “I can key in a new destination and time codes, whatever happens. Look, I can test a transfer to Xuotang, first.”
Denke was not totally convinced. “W-e-l-l,” he drawled. “It might work.”
Millie added her input. “Denke, you have an outstanding promise to help. We—Steg—he needs to do this.”
“Denke, of course it’ll work. Let me test a couple of known destinations, first.”
“Henry will kill me if this goes wrong. All right, I agree to a test, here to the Xuotang and back.”
Steg moved to the portal and calmly, with his mind relaxed, he mentally cued both destination and time. Then he stepped up to and through the portal. The transfer was immediate.
The dreadnought corporal, re-assuring his security team, expressed surprise. “Sir, I did not know we had a transmission scheduled.”
“An impromptu experiment. Just a simple test. Log it, with my return to Jochum II portal.” Steg turned and stepped back into the portal, mentally cueing his destination.
“It works, Denke, it works.” Steg was jubilant. “Admit it, nothing went wrong.”
Denke was still worried. “Yes, that worked, transferring from one known portal to another known portal. We don’t even know if Homeworld is part of the portal network. What happens if you can’t find a way to Homeworld?”
“Either the network will not accept an invalid destination, or I’ll be shunted to the nearest location. I must try it, Denke. Millie, you understand?”
Steg ignored the final protest from Denke and stepped up to the portal. Denke motioned as if to stop him, but changed his mind. Millie remained silent, a strained expression on her face. Steg squared his shoulders in front of the portal. He knew the risks. He calmed his mind, thinking only of Homeworld, of Castlehome, of the Glass Complex. He stepped forward, projecting, he hoped, the correct cue. The transit time seemed excessively long.
“You’re early, far too early.” The speaker was an old, old man, seated at a large viewscreen, working. He did not turn around.
Steg shook his head. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes, spiraling like exploding fireflies. His mind didn’t seem to be functioning properly.
“What?” Steg asked. “Isn’t this Castlehome?”
“Castlehome? Certainly not.” The old man was indignant; his beard trembled as he spoke. “Castlehome is it? Well, back you go, back you go. Do it again and this time don’t cue any reference to computer systems. Otherwise you’ll return here and I won’t have it. I won’t have it, do you hear? Now I don’t want any more interruptions. Go, go,” he urged impatiently, waving Steg back towards the portal.
Steg tried to ask a question, but the old man frowned and waved him to silence. Still dazed, Steg turned back to the portal and cued his Homeworld destination again. This time he didn’t reference the Glass Complex. He stepped into the waiting blue, painfully cold portal field. After what seemed an equally long time, he stepped out into a small room, softly lit by a flickering light cell. The room had the now familiar appearance of an undisturbed ancient portal facility. Steg stepped quietly to the door and after a brief struggle, managed to open it. He climbed up broken stairs and stepped over loose rocks, the path lit by faded light cells.
He continued up, guided more by instinct than by actual sensory data. The downward drafts were freezing cold and he shivered at the feel of midwinter snow. He moved more quickly, in an attempt to keep warm, edging past rock walls and sidling around falls which almost blocked the path. At last, after climbing for what seemed like hours, he came to a section where rough rock gave way to a far smoother finish. Now cableways blocked and caught his feet, instead of loose rocks. Occasionally the soft murmur of voices reached him.
Steg reached
out, seeking, searching for data, for contact with electronic systems. The reaction was staggering. He was on Homeworld and the Glass Complex welcomed him into its midst where he was surrounded by excited, welcoming Acolytes.
******
Chapter 30
Steg and Millie kept to their cabin during the long and wearisome trip from the Telrin Cluster to Aluta. They had used the time to study and absorb Telrin background briefing material provided by the Special Forces post on Telrin V. Their plan was simple. Steg, posing as a Telrin post-graduate research student, had received a grant for travel and related costs and was attending a university conference in Aluta. Millie was traveling as his wife. Special Forces had produced their new documents and identities.
At last Millie protested as Steg reloaded the files. “Oh my head aches, Master,” she complained. “I know more about Telrin than I do about Fain. Spare me, please.”
“Only if you stop calling me Master,” laughed Steg at her plaintive expression. “Although I agree—we certainly have covered a lot of material. Do you think you can carry it off?”
“I am certain another memory session or two or ten will not improve my chances. In fact, I could recite the whole twenty boring hours, word for word, if you wish.” She poised, ready to comply.
Steg winced and shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Come on, we’ll explore this passenger ship and test our act as naive travelers from Telrin.”
On arrival at Aluta, they discovered the planet’s landing processes were rigorous, as though the government was preparing for war. Question followed question. Police, security and other officials monitored every answer and added more questions. Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you visiting Aluta? They were questioned separately. Then together. The same questions, with different interrogators, with different emphases. At last their papers were accepted and their documents stamped.
Steg heaved a mental sigh of relief as they settled safely into the small suite of rooms provided by the Alutan University. Their briefing on Telrin V had been thorough. They had been warned to assume at all times Alutan security forces were monitoring their activities and conversations. Ever cautious, Steg and Millie took painstaking care to remain in character even when they were alone and resting in the apparent privacy of their rooms.
They spent their first full day on Aluta, acting as typical tourists. They exclaimed in Telrin terms, gasped phrases of wonder at the tourist attractions, and carefully ignored the crushing gray sameness of the spiritless faces and the hurrying silent masses. In the evening they retired early, fatigued tourists in a foreign world.
Steg locked the door to their small suite and relaxed. The casual or even interested observer would think he was resting after a tiring day. Millie composed herself for sleep while all the time prepared to defend herself and Steg against any intruder. Steg reached out, seeking the computers that lay at the heart of House of Aluta.
He found and studied the impressive, almost majestic Alutan system. He spent hours sifting through data, examining processes, evaluating programs, until at last he had evolved his course of action. He wove a cohesive chain of intrusive instructions through the very core of the system, subtle and gossamer soft, undetectable. He initiated the trigger and withdrew from the system. It continued to function. Nothing had been visibly altered, no obvious change affected the rhythm of processes, no ripple disturbed the even surface of its operations. Steg knew otherwise and wondered for a timeless moment why its operators didn’t detect the commencement of an irreversible data erosion that would gnaw at the foundations of House of Aluta.
On Homeworld, a separate and otherwise isolated sector of the Glass Complex switched into life. Acolytes followed their instructions and ignored the apparent strange behavior as the Complex prepared to receive an inflow of invaluable data. On Aluta, security was overridden, controls were ignored, and a stream of data gained full flowing momentum. Millions and millions of files were swept up in the flood as data flows increased.
The process would continue until the last item of information was stored safely in the Glass Complex. When the transfers were finished, without triggering alarms and without declaration of emergency, the structure of the Alutan system would slowly alter and change, and memory banks, now empty, would collapse into their vacuum-state, their contents forever lost. The system would suffer an induced attack of permanent amnesia, and the brain-damaged system would never again provide its supporting structure for the fabric of House of Aluta. Exhausted, Steg finally slept.
The conference was aimless and Steg was inattentive. He forced himself to maintain a semblance of interest, aware that his failure to do so could attract the attention of Alutan security. He was distracted by a background hum of concern as House of Aluta operators detected multitudes of errors, identified missing data stores and corrupted programs, and took ineffective remedial actions. Already banking difficulties were impacting traders and customers, and major corporate operations were grinding to an unexpected halt. He persevered through the day, distancing himself from the background degradation of corporate operations.
In the evening they sought distraction and played at their tourist roles, exploring brightly lit regions near the university, ignoring and avoiding contact with the strangely attired shapes inhabiting the night.
They were being followed. Steg caught a glimpse of a furtive movement as a shadow figure moved away, out of his line of vision. He watched for a repeat and was oddly pleased when it happened again; at least his imagination was not playing tricks. They walked on, now seeking darker streets, while Steg maintained a cautious watch for their elusive shadow. He quietly warned Millie and they varied their pace, now moving quickly, now pausing, now moving slowly, always with caution as they progressed through the nighttime throngs.
Steg tried to repress his growing concerns and started to head towards the access point for their path to the Alutan portal, deep below the city. He wished he had Ebony. Without the sword, without any weapon, he felt more exposed.
“He certainly is persistent,” Steg muttered.
Millie whispered her concern, her voice hoarse with indignation. “Why is someone following? We have done nothing to alert security.”
They moved further away from the crowds and bright lights, along streets leading deeper into the darkness. Bursts of white steam leaked from underneath the roadway and occasionally strange and distant rumbles vibrated beneath their feet. A vehicle cruised slowly past, its occupants unseen. Its lights pinned their two shadows to the rough wall of an abandoned building and then twisted them into grotesque enlargements as it approached and then shrunk them abruptly to almost nothing as it continued down the street. Steg ignored its passing as he sought a sign, a sound, something which would pinpoint their shadower.
He pulled Millie into a narrow alley and whispered a soft instruction as he pushed her into a dark doorway. He returned to the corner of the alley and waited, hidden in shadows. Then as the false sounds produced by his imagination faded into a sympathetic rhythm with his pulse, he heard a cautious shuffle. He sprang and their pursuer became real as Steg encountered solid flesh. They scuffled. Millie disregarded Steg’s instruction and ran to his aid. A sharp curse was followed by the metallic tinkle of a blade falling to the ground. Millie stepped forward and claimed the knife while Steg brought their pursuer to his knees with a sharp blow to his chin. Steg pulled back the stranger’s hood to reveal a familiar face.
“Taul!” exclaimed Millie. She hefted the knife and before Steg could move, buried the blade deep into her tormentor’s body. Taul fell to the pavement.
He groaned and opened his eyes. He blinked and struggled to focus as pain struck. He tried to raise himself up from the pavement.
“You accursed Fain,” he gasped as a trace of blood flecked his lips. “I was brought back in disgrace because of you. I lost everything—” He groaned again and his face twisted with agony and evil intent. Steg moved Millie away. Taul caught the movement and addr
essed Steg.
“And you too—I will not die without taking you—” He struggled against a spasm of coughing and reached under his cloak. As he withdrew his hand Steg realized Taul had another weapon, a blaster. The man fired as Steg jumped to disarm him. Taul collapsed.
A muted cry came from Millie and Steg spun back to her side as she too, slowly sagged to the pavement. Steg checked, frantic with worry. Taul’s final shot had found its target. Under the pale light in the alley, Millie at last had found peace. Steg bowed his head.
Steg stood for a long moment, considering. Only one thing was left for him to do, now. He knelt and carefully wrapped the fallen Fain in her cloak. He stood, lifting her in his arms. He could not leave her to an unknown wasteland burial on Aluta. Access to the portal was not distant, according to his mental map of its location. In the dark, unseen hands snatched at him from the alley shadows. He pushed his assailants away and kicked brutally when one became too insistent. At the end of the alley he turned and looked back. Taul’s body had already disappeared.
He walked on, seeking access to the lower levels of the city. He moved quickly as a small group of city underdwellers approached and he flowed with them as they moved off the street towards the underway system. The stairs went down and he followed, down and down. He ignored the occasional curious glance from a grey face, trusting the conditioned introspection of the underdwellers would dampen any tremor of alarm. As he reached each lower level, the lighting grew dimmer, until eventually he was fumbling in half darkness, stumbling occasionally when he encountered an unseen broken step or other rubble.
His burden grew heavier. He stopped his mad downward rush and paused to check his location. He had left the last of the underdwellers many levels above and no one now was near to watch his almost furtive actions. He moved off the stairwell and sought the mapped corridor location. He almost tore the skin on his hands as he impatiently struggled to lift the trapdoor without setting down his burden. He climbed down the short vertical ladder and slotted the trapdoor back into its recess. He then bolted it to inhibit the curiosity of any casual passerby. Now he was forced to move more slowly as the low roof of the service tunnel restricted his progress. He followed the winding passageway for more than a kay, struggling to move quickly in the dark, around damp piping and heavy conduit channels, across foul waterways, and under heavy beams, until he arrived at another vertical ladder, descending further into impossibly black depths. Down he climbed, deeper and deeper into the ancient levels of the city, levels long forgotten and neglected. He paused occasionally to listen for sounds of pursuit. He heard only the harshness of his breathing and the sounds of falling water. At last he stepped off the ladder and made his way cautiously; only a few orange service lights lit his path. He checked his location and felt along the wall for the door. After a short struggle it slowly opened, almost reluctantly. He stepped into the portal room, locking the door behind him. The portal glowed in the opposite wall of the small room. He stepped up to the pad and mentally keyed his destination, and stepped through.
Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) Page 27