A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle)

by Michael G. Munz

  Instantly he remembered jumping to his feet and stripping off the monitor connections. "You've made me into a slave, Ondrea!"

  "Gid, you're not a slave!" she protested. "We're indebted to them, yes, but you're not a slave!"

  "We?" he shot. They were using him, he remembered thinking. Marquand was using him! They toyed with his health, his body, his brain! "They didn't force you into service!" He wouldn't let them use him. He couldn't! But did he have a choice? They'd taken his life hostage. . .

  Felix gasped as the memory faded and released him, but only for a moment. He was Felix Hiatt. He was here with Caitlin, Flynn, and Marc, trying to, to. . . To what? His world receded like an expiring candle until there was only. . .

  Nothing. There was nothing. He was nothing, remembered nothing, thought nothing, knew nothing.

  CHAPTER 48

  It was taking longer than she was expecting. At least, Caitlin worried, it seemed to be, and the ordeal was taking a visible toll on Felix. Having to watch him endure it with barely the faintest clue of what he experienced lengthened each second. Felix was spending those fifteen agonizing minutes shifting from vacant stares to silent alarm to actually asking questions that clearly showed he had no clue what was going on. Though lucid moments came, they went just as rapidly before she could help comfort him or even learn what he was dealing with.

  The yelling didn't start until midway in. Felix jolted her with a sudden cry of "Isaac!" He thrashed wildly, stopping moments after she and the others recovered from their surprise enough to steady him. Twice more he cried out something she could only attribute to Gideon's memory. His last shout, long and wordless, was the worst. The only one she couldn't attribute to Gideon, Caitlin feared that it was Felix himself yelling out of his own pain and horror. She fought against the idea that it had all gone horribly wrong, yet she could do nothing more but wait.

  Had she swapped Gideon's safety for Felix's? She refused the idea purchase, ignoring the familiar twinge in her stomach. She and Felix had already been in trouble. Now they were only doing what was needed to fix it.

  Somehow knowing that failed to help. Lying in her lap, his eyes now shut, Felix was the one in greater danger. As Michael put a hand on her shoulder, Caitlin gripped Felix's hand tighter, trying to assure him she was there, trying not to think about the rest.

  And then Marc announced it was over. He double-checked something on Ondrea's modulator before disconnecting the links. Yet Felix remained still.

  "What's wrong?" she asked. "Why's he still out?"

  "I don't know."

  "Felix?" she tried. "Felix, wake up, ducks."

  He was breathing, but he didn't stir beyond that. She stifled the urge to repeat her question to Marc, but the need to do so must've shown in her face.

  "I don't know," he said. "Let's give him a few minutes, maybe."

  She shifted, trying to stand. "Help me get him comfortable. The seat ought to be better than the floor now that he's stopped thrashing." Come on Felix, you foolish git, wake up!

  Gideon sat up rail-straight before Caitlin could even kneel. She'd been so focused on Felix she wasn't prepared to think about Gideon, and he didn't give them much time.

  "Tell me what's happened," he demanded.

  Michael stood as she and Marc tried to get Felix up. "Gideon?" Caitlin tried.

  In a flash he stood to match Michael. "Tell me what happened now. We're on the Moon, yes?"

  "Yes," the other answered. "And we're in trouble. All of us. We need your help."

  Caitlin got Felix onto the bench and checked again to make sure he was still breathing. When she turned to the others, Gideon was staring at Michael.

  "I don't know you," said Gideon. "What happened? Why was I out?" He yanked the connections from his mind. "Tell me the meaning of this!"

  Reluctantly, she left Felix's side and touched Michael's arm with a whisper for him to help Felix. "Do you remember me, Gideon?" After his nod, she went on. "Good. Then, quickly, we're on the Moon and we just saved your life. All of us, but Felix especially. Do you remember him?"

  Gideon scowled. "I can remember everything up to being on Sunrise when— Where is Ondrea? Is she all right?"

  "She's doing better than we are. She sent us and I promise she was recovering when we left her. But for the moment, you need to listen to us."

  Caitlin brought him up to date, and then let Marc deal with the details of what Felix had done and the general situation with Omicron. The reconstructed man took it all in. To her surprise, he seemed to recall at least vague details of how he'd gotten there since leaving Sunrise. As far as Caitlin could tell, the procedure had worked; he was more Gideon than he'd been in the airlock, and—though it was too early to truly be sure—less prone to the confusion that haunted him at her house. The free flow of information took the edge off of his aggression, which soon melted away to uncertainty as they told him what they needed him to do now that he was better.

  "Marquand used me," he said when they were done. "Used me, used Ondrea, then killed me and sent me here. Now you want to use me."

  Michael moved to speak, but Caitlin cut him off. "Not use you, Gideon. But we need you. Those people trapped in Omicron need you. When you came to The Scry, you were risking your life every night to help people you didn't even know."

  "That was different."

  "I don't see how."

  "It was my choice. Since they did what they did to me, it's all been manipulation."

  Caitlin hardened. "Yes, well I understand that, Gideon, but quite frankly we risked a bloody hell of a lot to come here and save you. Felix—I still don't know what's wrong with him, what's happened to him since he risked his mind to save yours. A moment ago it was you lying there broken and running out of time, and now it's him."

  She pushed into Gideon's space, her jaw set. "We can't do a bloody thing for him here, and we can't leave until we help the others. So yes, I can see that you've been manipulated, but frankly there's no time for you to brood about it. You're the only person who can help."

  "I'm not ungrateful."

  "But?"

  "But. . . I don't know what."

  She gave Gideon a moment to consider it as he watched them, but that was all she was willing to give. "Gideon—"

  "I will help. For now."

  She let out a breath. "Thank you. Michael?"

  She withdrew to Felix to let Michael explain the tactical details of which she didn't much care at the moment. The cover to Felix's implant was still open. She swept her fingertips along his ear before pressing it back into place. "Come on, Felix," she whispered close, "wake up. I could use one of your cheeky comments about now."

  Michael was speaking behind her. "And just so we're clear, once we make it to the core, just shut it down. Is that going to be a problem?"

  "Why should it be?"

  "We know what Marquand sent you here to do."

  "I don't know what it could do to your systems," Marc added. "You try to link into it and we've got a whole new problem."

  "Don't talk to me about Marquand," Gideon told them. For a moment his gaze settled on Felix, and then on Caitlin where she knelt beside him. "We should go. Now."

  Gideon immediately showed his advantage over Michael in the corridor outside Primary Control. While Michael stood where Marc had before, Gideon extended a tendril from his forearm that snaked out just enough to curl around the corner and peer toward the turrets' position with a tiny camera.

  Still peering, Gideon spoke to him over the suit comms. "They remain, guarding the door as you claimed."

  "They didn't fire until I shot at them."

  Gideon pulled the tendril back. "Saving ammunition, I expect."

  "That's what I figured, yeah. Though I didn't get beyond the corner, either. They might fire if we get closer."

  Gideon turned back toward him. "They may not detect me at all." Hearing the man speak without moving his lips continued to be off-putting. With Gideon needing no suit and therefore having no air
to carry sound to a mic, the only way he could communicate was by sending a synthesis of his voice directly via radio frequency. Michael supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Gideon's artificial body had such a thing built in, but seeing it in action was still creepy. "Wait here."

  Michael nodded with some reluctance and reminded himself that it wasn't Gideon he was supposed to be protecting but rather the AoA's cause. Betrayed by Marquand or not, he wasn't sure Gideon wouldn't try something to get a piece of what they'd sent him to Omicron for in the first place. He'd borrowed Ondrea Noble's stunner from Caitlin before they left the rover. Once they got inside the control room, he wouldn't let Gideon out of his sight.

  "Keep me in the loop," Michael said. "I obviously can't hear anything and I can't see anything unless I stick my head around the corner."

  Gideon stared a moment before nodding. "Electronic counter-measures active. Engaging chameleon system. It may work if I'm slow enough." His bodysuit, skin, and even his hair shifted to match the corridor wall, and he slipped around the corner out of sight.

  "No reaction from the turrets. Moving forward. Approaching closer. Five feet, no reaction. Moving slowly."

  Michael resisted the urge to look. Gideon had to move roughly thirty feet up the corridor before he reached the turrets.

  "Ten feet."

  If he could make it all the way without being seen, he'd be able to—

  "Taking fire!"

  "Run!"

  Michael watched helplessly as bullets punched into the end of the hall beside him. Moments later Gideon sprang back around the corner and pressed flat to the wall.

  Braced for the turrets to follow, Michael had no time to give him more than a glance. "Are you hit?"

  "I do not believe so. They may follow. Be ready!"

  "I am." Why did Gideon turn back? From what the others had said, he could take on anything.

  "The ECM likely kept them from fixing my position, but they could sense me enough to know I was there somewhere."

  "Suppressing fire."

  "Though there was no way to pass them without being hit." He slipped the camera around the corner again. "They're maintaining position."

  "I thought they built you to take that kind of thing."

  Gideon turned to him sharply. "They did not build—" He demonstrably popped the small cannon barrel he'd used to threaten them in the airlock. "That is hardly small-arms fire they're using, and this will not do much against them." He pulled the camera back and then headed past Michael back the way they'd come. "Follow me."

  "What? We're not just giving up!"

  "There may be a way around them. From the outside."

  "We don't have time to look for 'may be.'"

  "I am not a tank! We need alternatives."

  Michael gritted his teeth. "We have to hurry." He ushered Gideon to go on and then followed as quickly as the suit allowed.

  Once outside, getting atop the exterior of the structure was a quick process with Gideon's help. The raised section that housed the control room was easily found, but finding a way inside wasn't quite so simple. Aside from a few protrusions, the top of the complex was covered in a thin layer of lunar soil that Michael figured helped to disguise the place from any distant observation. As soon as they climbed up, they began to brush through it as quickly as they could in an attempt to find some sort of exterior hatch, covered window, or anything that might help them.

  It didn't take long.

  "Look." Michael pointed to the corner of the roof where a section of soil was already cleared. The two rushed over for a closer look and spotted a closed rectangular hatch that appeared to lead right down into Primary Control.

  "Outer seal is missing," Gideon said. "Explosive bolts. There." He pointed down to the lower section. A thin plating that matched the hatch's shape lay in the soil where it had landed.

  There was no room for an airlock of any sort. "Some sort of hatch for emergency docking, or maybe building expansion. This is how the room got vented."

  The computer must've blown the protective seal and opened the inner hatch to space before closing it again. Gideon tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. Michael pointed to a keypad near the handle. "Do you remember those codes?"

  Gideon reached for the keypad and then hesitated as if trying to pick the proper sequence. "No."

  "You're sure?"

  "They're gone."

  It wasn't a perfect test, but it put Michael more at ease. Maybe the mole's memories really were gone. He moved closer and punched in the code Marc had given him.

  "This one might work," Michael said. The lock released, and the hatch was open a moment later. The vacuum-bloated body of a dead ESA technician lay immediately below, staring up at them with bloodshot eyes.

  There was no immediate response from below.

  Gideon didn't wait long. "Stay here."

  Not terribly likely, Michael thought. "Sounds familiar. There might be cameras in there."

  "They won't see me."

  "Don't be so sure."

  Gideon was poised to descend when he stopped at Michael's comment. "What aren't you telling me?"

  Michael shook his head. "Don't drop your guard is all I'm saying."

  "Of course not." He dropped through the open hatch. "All clear so far. Dead bodies, no turrets on this side. No sign of movement. The door to the hall remains closed."

  "Good." Michael recalled what Marette had told them. "There should be two alcoves around the corner on either side of the door. The one to the right should have the core access. Look for a dark green access panel about three feet across at chest level."

  "I see it."

  Michael watched from atop the roof as Gideon disappeared out of sight of the hatch toward the core. "Any cameras?"

  "Two."

  "Can they see the ceiling hatch?"

  "I'm uncertain. I've seen no response to my presence so far. I'm at the core. What now?"

  Michael frowned, torn between keeping an eye on Gideon and staying out of sight himself. He clambered over to the opposite side of the hatch for a better view, but couldn't see much more.

  "Repeat: what now?"

  "Just a sec."

  "What's the problem?"

  Synthetic voice or not, Gideon's annoyance came through just fine. Michael got onto his knees. He poked his head through the hatch as far as he dared and gained a view of Gideon in the alcove from the waist down. The door to the corridor was still closed. Michael realized with some relief that if it did open, the turrets would have to round the alcove's corner to even have a chance of spotting Gideon directly. Michael could see no cameras from his vantage point.

  "There should be a release on either side. I don't think there's a code. But don't touch anything else if that doesn't work."

  "Stand by. Panel's opened. I see two white components the size of my hand and a long—"

  Distracted by the sight of the door opening, Michael missed the rest of Gideon's sentence. One of the turrets rolled through the doorway before he could give warning. Michael ducked back outside the hatch.

  "Door's open! They're coming through!"

  CHAPTER 49

  The computer must've sensed the core panel opening and sent the turrets. Unsure of what he could do, Michael forced himself to look back through the hatch and risk giving away his position. Only one turret had entered—the other remained behind, still guarding against an attack from down the hallway. Michael waved an arm in an effort to get the turret's attention and buy Gideon some time.

  He wasn't fast enough. The entering turret rounded the corner straight for Gideon's position.

  Gideon dove toward it and flung his arms around its top. So great was the force with which he launched himself in the Moon's gravity that momentum carried him and the turret across the room to the opposite corner. They smashed into another access panel in utter silence. Gideon lost his grip.

  The flash of the turret's cannon lit up the room with a burst that punched into Gideon's leg. It wasn't enough
to stop him. He wrapped himself around the overturned turret from behind and clutched at the cannon itself with both hands. It fought his grip, thrashing and swiveling in either direction in an attempt to take aim at its attacker.

  And then suddenly it stopped swiveling, took aim at Michael, and fired. He managed only barely to duck back outside the hatch before the burst lit up the room below. He felt the impact of the bullets in the roof against his knees. Now that the first turret spotted him, would the second continue to wait outside?

  Gideon gave him the answer a heartbeat later. "Second turret's coming!"

  After a moment's hesitation, Michael grabbed the edges of the hatch and swung himself down through the hole with his shoulder wound screaming at him. There was no time to worry that the first turret might fire. He didn't even know if the second would be after him or Gideon. Michael caught sight of it just long enough to adjust his aim before swinging forward for a low-gravity launch across the room. He slammed feet first into the second turret just after it had turned toward Gideon. The impact knocked the turret against the frame of the open doorway and Michael tumbled after it.

  Still fighting to regain his bearings, Michael grabbed for the cannon and ducked out of the way of the barrel before it could fire. Though Gideon had gotten hold of his from behind, Michael wasn't so lucky; it was all he could do to keep it from gaining a clear shot. Stabilizing arms thrust from the turret's body in an effort to either right itself or knock him off. It didn't matter which; the arms and the bulk of Michael's suit kept him from gaining any sort of advantage. Gideon and the other turret were somewhere behind him. If Gideon couldn't keep his from getting a shot at Michael, he'd be dead before he knew what hit him.

  The wild breath of his own struggle was all he could hear in the vacuum's silence. Desperate, he tried to roll to the other side in the hope of using the turret as a shield, but he failed no matter which way he moved. Keep his suit intact, keep Gideon from being shot, keep himself from becoming a target; no matter what he tried, he couldn't do all three at once, and if he couldn't do all three at once—