by Robyn Bachar
“You think they’ll come back?” he asked.
“You don’t spend this much time and money on a facility and abandon it.” Jiang did some mental math, calculating costs for construction, labor and equipment. A place like this would take millions of credits to get up and running, maybe more. Hardly pocket change. What had happened here? Seemed like it would take more than a meltdown to end a project this expensive. “They’ll use it again once the surface is clean.”
“Unless we burn it.”
Jiang frowned. It’d serve the Soviets right if they torched the place, but they might need it as evidence later. Plus it’d take far more explosives than the few grenades Ryder carried to bring down an area this size. “We could. That’s not part of the plan, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Worst-case scenario only, then.”
“Right.”
They searched in eerie silence until they discovered the server room, and Jiang cursed in Cantonese at the expended blank grenades littering the floor.
“Well, that’s that,” Ryder said. “Bastards nuked their databanks.”
“Maybe not. This is a shit job.” Jiang circled the room and nudged one of the spent grenades with the toe of her boot. Blank grenades were designed to fry computer systems and erase their data, but they were about as precise as their explosive cousins. They had to be placed right to achieve the maximum area of effect. “Whoever did this just tossed them in the room. Probably during the hurry to evacuate. They may have missed portions of the data.”
“Fair enough. How do you want to access it?” Ryder asked.
“Director’s office. His terminal should have the best security clearance.”
They backtracked to the director’s office, and Jiang sat behind his desk. The chair groaned—it wasn’t rated for the weight of a person in full battle armor. Ryder handed her his tablet, and she plugged it into the data terminal.
“I’m uploading Maria’s programs now,” Jiang said. “She’s got a sniffer that will find and download any data fragments it encounters.”
“So now we wait?”
She nodded. “It shouldn’t take long. There’s probably not much left to find, but it’s better than nothing.”
Ryder loomed above her, covering her in case of a rogue mutant alien attack. The man made an excellent shield.
“Hey.” Ryder placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a lot more than nothing. When we get our footage to the Mombasa, they’ll be able to tell us more about what went on here. You’ll probably get so much random info from Maria that you’ll wish you’d never asked.”
Jiang smiled. “Thanks.”
“Probably should’ve kept that in mind earlier. Now they know you owe me a date.”
“I never said—”
“Sorry, boss, but it’s on record. Dinner, a movie and dancing. They’ll think you’re chicken if you back out.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
“It would mess with your fearless reputation.”
Jiang sighed. She wasn’t fearless. She was disconnected. After she was rescued from New Hong Kong, she’d drifted from job to job, system to system, as freelance as a pilot could be. She had no home, no family and almost no memories of her life before. She had no roots to ground her, and nothing to live for. Nothing left to lose but her own life.
Her shoulders sagged. They’d come all this way into hostile territory, but everything they had found so far left her with more questions than answers. Who was Agent Kwan? Why did she have access to a secret Soviet research facility? What were they developing, hidden beneath the jagged mountain range? Like her trip to New Hong Kong, nothing here looked familiar. Her brain was as devoid of data as a computer hit by a blank grenade.
An alert flashed on the terminal’s screen, and Jiang tapped it.
REPLAY LAST ENTRY: Y/N?
“A complete file?” Ryder asked. “Hell, yes, replay it.”
She hit the confirmation, and the holographic display in the desk blinked to life. The image was grainy and pixelated, flinching and jerking due to the missing bits of data. A man’s head and shoulders formed—he was in his early sixties judging by his lined face and thick white hair, Caucasian, speaking fluent Russian and dressed in an olive green military jacket. Again, Jiang braced for recognition that didn’t come.
“Test results for subject A16XK continue to be promising,” the recording said. “Subject is by far the most successful of this test group. We have detected no signs of rejection or psychosis. Interface seems—” The image hissed and died for a moment before picking up at a time stamp three minutes later. “—a field test. General Andropov disagrees, but the project director was adamant.” The camera turned away from the speaker, replaced by an image of a woman on a diagnostic table. Asian, early thirties, below average height but athletic build...
“That’s you,” Ryder blurted.
Jiang froze as the camera zoomed in on her face. Her stomach twisted with a feeling of eerie recognition—Ryder was right, that was her, but Jiang felt no connection to the image. She might as well have been watching one of Ryder’s old Earth vids. Was this why she had access to this facility? Because she’d been a guinea pig for some twisted Soviet science project?
The woman—Jiang—was unconscious. Her head had been shaved in places where diagnostic equipment was attached, monitoring the implant invading her brain. Jiang reached up in reflex as though checking for scars on her scalp but her gauntlet collided with her helmet. She had so many scars left after the bombardment of New Hong Kong that it would be impossible to match any of them to the image.
“Subject A16XK has been prepped with the mission parameters, and is ready—”
The video cut out suddenly and Jiang thumped an armored fist against the desktop in frustration. “That’s it?” she said. “There has to be more.”
“We’ll get more,” Ryder said. “That’s just the first fragment we’ve found.”
“Fragments are all I’ve ever had. Blurry faces and missing names. I’m sick of it! I can’t keep—”
The tablet began blinking frantically in time with a tiny alarm blaring from its speakers.
“Oh shit,” Ryder said.
“What?”
He grabbed the tablet. “It’s Maria’s ‘oh shit’ alarm. Means we tripped a security alert somewhere.”
LOCAL DEFENSES ACTIVATED.
The lab’s light flashed from harsh white to red, and Jiang’s hackles rose. “That’s not good. Pull it, we’re leaving.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Ryder muttered as he disconnected the tablet. He shoved the tablet into its holster and reached for his weapon. Jiang drew her pistol and scanned the room. Too open—the glass walls of the labs might shield them from a shot or two, depending on what sort of automated defenses the place had, but there was little cover.
“I’ve got point,” she said.
“Umm, boss? I have a small problem.”
She turned back to Ryder, who then banged his hand atop the desk. The armored fingers were frozen in place, locked into the same position they had been when he replaced his tablet.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang asked.
“Dunno. I think the battery’s dead. Or it has a bad bond. Either way...” Ryder trailed off and shrugged.
“Well we’re just going to have to—” she began, but was interrupted by a laser blast. The data terminal sparked and billowed black smoke. “Take cover!”
They ducked and rolled in different directions, seeking the dubious protection of office furniture. Jiang tracked the bolt back to a security drone hovering in the hallway just outside.
“It’s fine,” Ryder said. “I can shoot with my off hand.”
Jiang swallowed the reply that he wasn’t as good with his off hand, because while true it w
ouldn’t help their current situation. Another laser blast singed the desk, and Jiang took aim and fired. Her bullet caught the drone dead center but only dented its armor. Jiang reevaluated the importance of the facility to the Party, because an armored security drone wasn’t cheap. Her comm picked up the whirr of more hovercraft, and two more drones joined the first, gathering outside the office like a trio of enormous armored wasps.
“Grenade,” Jiang ordered.
“Too close, boss. We’ll be caught in the blast range.”
“That’s what our armor is for,” she countered. “A grenade is the only thing that will dent them.”
A trio of laser blasts zinged into the room, one melting the terminal into slag, one setting fire to the chair in front of Ryder, and one that burned through the file tower that Jiang was crouching behind. The blast barely missed her helmet, and she did not want to think of the biohazards of crossing through the contaminated colony above with a compromised suit.
“Now, Kalani,” she shouted.
“Fire in the hole!” Ryder drew a grenade from his belt, thumbed the setting to trigger on impact and lobbed it into the corridor. The result was instant and impressive. The blast shattered the glass of the surrounding office, raining chunks and shards like an ice storm from hell.
“Go, I’ll cover you,” Jiang said.
Ryder charged into the corridor as Jiang pelted the drones with covering fire. One was downed, immobile on the floor, but the other two were still flying. They weaved drunkenly through the air after them as they retreated. A laser blast missed her, but one struck her right leg below the knee. Jiang gritted her teeth as the heat singed her, and her nose twitched with the phantom scent of burned skin. Her HUD flashed a warning.
RIGHT GREAVE COMPROMISED. 15% PROTECTION RATING REMAINING.
Fifteen percent was enough to get her back to the shuttle, but that spot couldn’t take another hit.
“You need to activate the elevator,” Ryder said. “I’ll cover you.”
The palm scanner. Jiang grimaced. This was a bad time to remove any piece of armor, but she didn’t have a choice.
Ryder aimed his pistol and fired, but Jiang didn’t turn to see if he was successful. She unsealed her gauntlet, yanked it off and pressed her palm against the scanner.
ACCESS DENIED.
“Shit!”
“What?” Ryder asked.
They both ducked as laser blasts zipped over their heads. Ryder switched his pistol to auto and fired a barrage at the drones. One shuddered and crashed to the floor with a heavy thump, but the other was still up and gunning for them.
Jiang jammed her glove back on. “I’m locked out. We need to hack it.” She lunged for Ryder’s tablet and yanked it from its holster.
“It still needs a hard connection, like the first one,” Ryder said.
“I know.” Jiang glanced back and spotted the impact points where the bolts had hit the wall behind them. “Good news is our friends punched an access hole.”
“Nice of them.” Ryder fired a second barrage as Jiang used her multi-tool to pry off the metal panel around the scanner. “Got an idea. Hang on.”
Ryder clumsily holstered his pistol. He drew his machete and charged the drone with a bellowing war cry that made Jiang’s ears ring. She paused just long enough to watch as the drone fired a blast that hit Ryder dead center, but he continued forward as though oblivious to the shot. A metallic clang echoed down the corridor as the blade connected with the drone. It wobbled midair, then dipped and crashed as Ryder forced it to the ground.
Jiang left the man to his work and returned her focus to hacking the lift controls. She scanned the mess of wires behind the panel and finally settled on a data input cable. She attached the tablet’s access cord to it, and the little metallic teeth clamped down and spliced into the cable.
“I’m in,” she said. “Unlock programs running now.”
“Good, because I don’t think we’re up for fighting round two.”
Round two? Jiang turned and cursed as three new drones entered the far side of the lab. Again her estimation of the cost of the facility jumped a few thousand credits—maybe even millions, depending on how many more drones were left to be activated. It would make returning to the place nigh impossible if they couldn’t figure out a way to disengage the security. If they could even get back into the system—the facility was sure to have broadcast a distress signal as soon as the alarm tripped.
Well, one problem at a time.
The tablet flashed green. “We’re in!” The lift doors opened, and Jiang hastily disengaged the tablet. Ryder and Jiang hurried inside and the doors closed just before the new drones closed into firing range.
“Status report,” Jiang said. She returned his tablet and examined the damage to his breastplate.
“Took a hard hit, but it held.” Ryder sheathed his machete. “You?”
“Same. We need to double-time it out of here. We’ve probably got incoming Soviet patrols.”
“Shit. Hope the shuttle’s weapons are online. Maria didn’t get a chance to run any diagnostics before we stole it.”
“It’s a pirate shuttle. It has weapons.” Jiang squared her shoulders and focused past the storm of anxious questions buzzing in her brain. She could unravel after they were safely out of Soviet space. They needed to get to the ship and get the preflight checklist done in record time—which wasn’t likely if her copilot had a paralyzed hand.
“Can you remove your armor if your hand is stuck?” She needed him to flip switches and punch buttons as her copilot. He could use his off hand, but it wouldn’t be as efficient as using both hands. Worse so if he was still in his armor. The history of space travel was filled with horror stories of fried equipment and system meltdowns triggered by fumbling fingers in clunky gloves.
Ryder was silent for several moments as the lift zipped them back toward the colony. Finally a sigh hissed over the comm as the lift doors opened. “Yes and no. The other pieces can be removed no problem, but we’ll need to take the gauntlet apart.”
“That’ll take time. We’ll deal with the gauntlet later.” Her pulse pounded as she hustled up the stone stairs. “Just do the best you can.”
“Always do, boss. Does this mean you get to strip me?”
Jiang barked a startled laugh. Trust Ryder to flirt at a time like this—the odd thing was that she found it comforting. Ryder wasn’t freaked out by the footage of her laid out as the subject of some nefarious experiment. An expensive experiment... Jiang re-ran the numbers she’d estimated for the cost of the facility and the colony above it. She paused at the top of the stairs and swallowed hard.
“Got an Earther culture reference for you.” She leaned out into the corridor and checked it for drones, but the place was as empty as they’d left it.
“Oh?” he asked.
Jiang gave him the all clear and they headed out. “I think I’m the Six Trillion Dollar Woman.”
“Nice! I’m so proud of you. But you would’ve earned bonus points if you referenced the original vid it rebooted.”
“Trivia snob.”
“Guilty as charged.”
The moment they stepped outside, an alert from the shuttle’s computer flashed over their HUDs.
WARNING. INCOMING ENEMY VESSELS DETECTED. ETA 15 MINUTES.
Jiang grimaced. “That’s cutting it close.”
“Race you.” Ryder sprinted toward the shuttle, and she cursed and hustled after him. Entirely unfair—the man had longer legs.
Her lungs and her muscles burned by the time she bolted into the airlock behind Ryder.
DECONTAMINATION WILL COMMENCE IN 10 SECONDS.
“Hurry up,” he muttered.
Jiang nodded. They both fidgeted as they waited for the cycle to complete. She’d never had a decontam seem so lon
g, the seconds stretching impossibly long.
“Your hand is still hot,” Ryder said. “You need to douse it.”
“Right. Start the preflight. I’ll be right behind you.”
The airlock opened and they charged out. Ryder made a beeline for the cockpit while Jiang headed for the nearest med kit. She’d have to settle for a quick fix to neutralize the radiation exposure and do a closer examination of it later. She ditched her helmet and gloves, grabbed the kit and rifled through its contents.
WARNING. INCOMING ENEMY VESSELS DETECTED. ETA 12 MINUTES.
“Shut that warning off,” she shouted to Ryder.
“How?” he asked. “It’s not like there’s an on/off toggle for the oh shit countdown.”
Jiang grabbed the bottle she needed and sprayed its contents over her hand, hissing as the cold mist coated her skin. She doused every inch of skin that had been exposed when she removed her gauntlet until her entire hand felt like she’d plunged it into a bucket of ice water. Not conducive to piloting, but it couldn’t be helped. Better safe than covered in radiation burns, and like Ryder said, they were running out of extra hands.
She rushed into the cockpit and strapped into the pilot’s seat. “How many?”
“Six Soviet patrol ships, in diamond formation.” Ryder had removed his helmet and left gauntlet, but his paralyzed right hand rested in his lap.
“Six?” Shit. Could be worse—a heavy warship could obliterate them in one hit. Patrol ships had less firepower, but what they lacked in punch they made up for in speed. They were the birds of prey, while heavy cruisers were angry bears.
“You can out-fly them.” Ryder grinned.
“Damn right I can.” Jiang took a deep breath and found her focus. Command settled over her like a warm blanket—her shipmates called it her eerie combat calm, but she preferred to think of it as a meditative state. No fear, no worry, just purpose. “Engines are eighty percent online. I’m not going to spin up the hyperdrive until we’re out of the planet’s gravity.”
“Do you want me to send a distress call to the Mombasa?”
“No. You can prep an info burst to send if things go bad.” One last goodbye before the Soviet navy vaporized them. Her lips pressed in a grim line. Not today. She wasn’t going out without getting some answers first. “Engines full. Lifting off now. I need you to get the navigation computer started on our jump calculation.”