Final Book

by Peter W Prellwitz

  Shards - Book Four

  Peter W. Prellwitz

  Shards - Book Four

  Copyright © 2007 Peter W. Prellwitz

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in Canada by Double Dragon eBooks, a division of Double Dragon Publishing Inc. of Markham Ontario, Canada.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from Double Dragon Publishing Inc.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Double Dragon eBooks

  PO Box 54016 1-5762 Highway 7 East

  Markham, Ontario L3P 7Y4 Canada

  http://double-dragon-ebooks.com

  http://double-dragon-publishing.com

  Cover art by Deron Douglas

  www.derondouglas.com

  ISBN-10: 1-55404-310-7

  ISBN-13: 978-1-55404-310-1

  First Edition November 6, 2007

  Also Available as a Large Type Paperback

  Now Available as paperback and hard cover

  A Celebration of Cover Art: 2001 to 2006

  Five Years of Cover Art

  [Companion calendars also available]

  www.double-dragon-ebooks.com

  Chapter One

  "Sir?" The lieutenant called from the nearby doorway. "The puterverse access has terminated. It's safe to enter."

  Major Deiley rose to his feet and walked to the small room. The field was indeed down, and the dancing light that protected the two people inside was gone. He stepped over the gory remains of his three men and went first to the girl.

  Her foray into the puterverse had clearly not gone well. She was staring sightlessly into space, having sharded again. He motioned to the lieutenant to see to Lockwood, who was conscious but not a threat. Picking the girl up carefully, he marveled again at how small she was. He carried her out to the room and laid her on a cot that stood against the wall. He then accessed at the nearest terminal, not bothering to punch in a destination. The screen glowed a dim black in response.

  "Sir. One moment, please." He waved his arm to indicate he wished privacy. The room was cleared within seconds. He turned back to the terminal.

  "Yes, sir. I have the girl now."

  "Very good, Major." Far Bank's voice seemed strained. It could have been the two-dimensional access, though his next comment indicated otherwise. "I can appreciate now your earlier appraisal of his will power and spirit."

  "'His' will power, sir?" Deiley raised an eyebrow.

  "No, Major. Her will power and spirit. What is your next course of action?"

  Here it was. Deiley had been painstakingly laying out the answer to this question for weeks. He hoped he'd thought it through sufficiently. He'd not get a second opportunity.

  "I will be taking her to the base infirmary, sir, and begin accelerating her dissolution. By keeping her under constant guard, we'll be able to pinpoint the best moment to perform mental shutdown procedures prior to harvesting."

  "Good. And you still anticipate three to four weeks until harvest?"

  "Yes, sir. I could accelerate even further if I could maintain a single ripe, but that is far too ..."

  "I don't understand, Major. All data indicates that it was multiple episodes that eventually broke down the implanted barriers of riping and caused dissolution."

  "Not quite, sir. It seems that multiple sharding is actually a defense mechanism of the brain, an attempt to shift the sharding evenly, holding the mind's structure together longer by distributing the weight of constant episodes."

  "Go on."

  "By keeping a Shard in a single persona, the weight is brought to bear on a single barrier. When it collapses, the others are destroyed sympathetically. The difficulty is that it's nearly impossible to maintain a single persona at this advanced stage of sharding."

  "So? Which ripe would you suggest, Major?" Deiley hoped for some indication that Far Bank was either suspicious or not, but there was no clue. There never was.

  "Irrelevant, sir. As I said, it's too difficult to maintain an environment that would encourage a Shard to remain in a single ripe." He paused briefly, then continued slowly, "Although I could set up a display and holoproject a simple program into her retina. Force her to think she's in an industrial setting. That would probably keep her in a machine state for the remainder of her life. It would also have the advantage of suppressing her human personas, both real and manufactured." He looked back down at the terminal. "Yes, that should increase the chances of making the three-week schedule, sir. I'll have a holoprogram begun immediately."

  "No, Major. Your plan has merit, but conflicts with my wishes."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Carry through with forcing a single ripe, but implement the Miss DeChant persona. That one interests me the most. I believe you have an interest as well, yes?"

  "She was. . . convenient, sir."

  "I don't doubt, Major." Far Bank chuckled, and both his chuckle and his voice indicated he did not fully understand how Miss DeChant was convenient. In that revealing moment, Deiley realized that Far Bank was vulnerable, that he had flaws. In that same moment, Deiley lost much of his respect of Far Bank. Even the most powerful could be misguided and swayed by temptation. Was he, Deiley, a victim of this same potent temptation?

  "Sir?" Deiley inquired at Far Bank's chuckle.

  "Nothing, Major. A private joke." Far Bank's voice reasserted its cold efficiency. "You will take the ... girl ... to your quarters and force the Miss DeChant ripe to the surface. Please maintain that ripe until dissolution is inevitable. Maintain normal report procedures." The screen died. There was no opportunity to protest or debate.

  Deiley took a deep breath and released his hands, which he had clasped firmly behind his back. He'd gambled and won. Far Bank was interested in obtaining the KME located in the Miss DeChant shard, and sounded both alarmed and intrigued by Deiley's suggestion of using a single, machinery ripe. Such an action might accelerate the dissolution, shortening the time available to gain whatever knowledge was in the KME. It might also, Far Bank undoubtedly thought, lock the girl into the machinery ripe at dissolution and keep him from harvesting the memory capsule. If Far Bank thought that, it was a mistake. The Shard's mind at dissolution was a blending of all the ripes with the original persona. Nothing was locked out or lost. It was the overload of information and synaptic activity that ultimately caused death. Few people knew that, and Deiley was in the habit of keeping information to himself.

  So it came about that Far Bank chose Miss DeChant and maintained control by bringing up Deiley's involvement with her. It only helped Deiley further that Far Bank misunderstood the involvement. He did wonder, though, what the private joke was. Did it have something to do with the earlier slip, referring to Miss DeChant as a he? Was the original persona male? It fit the facts, as did a dozen other theories. But it seemed unlikely. He'd never heard of the Resistance making that type of error. Not that it mattered. Male, female, or machine, one persona carried the information needed to wield microsats as missiles. It was the information that interested him, not the personal details. Still, he was glad he had come to know the gentle soul of Miss DeChant.

  He went to the cot where the girl lay. He knelt beside her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. She was still gazing sightlessly into a realm of oblivion and darkness and cold. He shook his head irritably. What gibberish. He laid the girl's hand down gently and called for Lieutenant
Gratz to have the girl taken to his hov. He knew the man would see to it personally and, like Deiley, keep the information to himself. There was nothing more valuable in the military than a capable lieutenant.

  ***

  "Lieutenant Eyer, ma'am?"

  Jody looked up from her tabinal full of cyberwork and sighed gratefully. She was ready to use any excuse take a break from the painfully boring, day-to-day chores of running a regiment, and the excited expression on Private Jameson's face said this was going to be a real excuse to stop.

  "Yes, Kelly? What can I do for you?"

  The impossibly young woman stepped in and saluted, crisp, sharp -- her accuracy could be pinpointed to a millimeter. Jody smiled, but saluted back.

  "Don't do that, Kelly. It's scary. I might think you're trying to impress me."

  She looked startled at the whimsical accusation, but relaxed some at Jody's disarming smile.

  "Sorry, ma'am. I ... I ..."

  "Don't be sorry, Kelly. I'm just grouchy after ordering five tons of supplies that are going to come in a kilo at a time. Now, you have some news from our Research crowd?" Kelly was one of four rookies assigned to research. They actually did little more than run errands at this point in their training, but they were being exposed to the skills and work habits of efficient veterans, which was what Jody wanted.

  "Yes, ma'am!" She paused, then blushed when she realized that Jody was waiting. She tripped over herself several times in telling the news, spilling it out like a bubbling spring.

  Jody listened quietly. When Kelly finished her report, she forced herself to stand up slowly. Inside, she wanted to jump up on her desk and dance a jig. A jig. An old expression she'd picked up from Abigail.

  "Thank you for your report, Private. Convey my thanks and compliments to the research department and tell them I'd like to have the primary access room in about an hour. Dismissed."

  Kelly saluted and bounced out, fortunately not looking back to see Jody smiling after her. Had she been that young once?

  She tried to go back to the order forms, but what little enthusiasm she'd had was whisked out the door with the exuberant private. She snapped off the tabinal.

  "Computer? Is the primary access room vacant?"

  "It sure is, Lieutenant! You want me to reserve it for you?"

  "Yes, please. Oh, and would you please remove the level tethers? I've got to climb the ladder tonight."

  "Are you sure, ma'am? The last time you tried to climb the ladder ..."

  "Yeah, yeah. I ended up in the infirmary for a couple days. Sorry, but it's gotta be done." Jody mulled around for a phrase she'd picked up. "Big doodoo's tonight."

  The computer laughed. "Umm, I think that's 'big doin's', ma'am'." Jody had the worst time with the ancient phrases, but had acquired a taste for them, partly because of Abigail, partly because her unit was getting - um - revved up (yes, that was the phrase) to start rescuing operations. After years of inactivity, the 179th was to be a going concern again.

  "Oops. Thanks for the correction."

  "S'okay. The room is reserved and the tethers are detached. Shall I contact TAU for you, ma'am?"

  "Thanks. Just find out when I can talk to them. Tell them we've got an answer on our inquiries, and while it's not at all what we expected, it's very good news."

  The computer went on with its business, and Jody took a slow stroll of the compound. Things had changed quite a bit since she'd been promoted and given the 179th Regiment to repair and reactivate. Though it was never said in so many words, the sudden and extremely gory passing of Lieutenant Posen had been a godsend to the unit. In the four months she'd been in command, it had gone from a paranoid bunch of untrained people bullied by an undisciplined A Company, into a cohesive regiment, still green, but with an attitude. It was amazing, both in the amount of the turnaround, and in the relative ease and quickness that it had happened. Jody would take some of the credit - why not? she took the blame for her mistakes - but the whole thing had started because of the wisdom of TAU.

  After the scraps of rendered flesh, shattered bones and burst organs had been identified as Posen, TAU had broken tradition and given a field commission to Jody. Normally, Sergeant Olecki, being in charge of A Company, would have been in command. But while TAU was far away, they had known what was going on through Ressler. And Ressler had been very straightforward in his observations and findings. They seized the fact that Olecki was still laid up from his attack on Abigail and gave temporary command to her. Then, before Olecki recovered enough to relieve her, TAU found some critical need for his unique abilities and transferred him. To the upper Volga. The extreme upper Volga. Jody's opinion of TAU, unformed until then, soared.

  Once promoted and in permanent command, she quickly dismantled A Company, sending the majority of its personnel to suddenly available locations throughout the Resistance military. Then, eschewing the normal organization of a regiment, Jody kept B Company as B Company, and began recruiting a C Company. In the place of A Company she brought some of the better researchers, trainers and veteran combat personnel she had made contact with during her service with the Thirty-fifth. These she kept in a loose platoon, assigning them as needed to either company or to perform independently.

  It was one of the independent assignments that put the spring in her step today. Spring? She wanted to race to the access room now and attempt to contact Mike right away. But she couldn't. Not until she informed TAU of Research's discovery and was granted permission. Permission that was certain to be given.

  The assignment had been fairly straightforward: Examine every possible aspect of Abigail Wyeth. TAU had given her their information, which was plenty. Breaking their own rules, they had kept a record of both Corporal Lendler's research and Corporal Geher's IHAD on Abigail from almost three years ago. Jody had been stunned, both by the quantity and the content. Until she'd met Abigail, she'd not had any personal contact with a Cue. And Abigail turned out to be the grandmother of all Cues. Grandfather, rather. Jody remembered the redness of her face when she realized the young woman she'd gotten so chummy with was really a man. Scratch that. Had once been a man. Abigail's change from one gender to the other was just as real as Jody's promotion from sergeant to lieutenant. Probably more permanent, too.

  Armed with this fantastic starting point, Jody had instructed her team to continue digging and digging and digging. Nothing was to be considered too trivial. No tangent was to be overlooked.

  Jody's goal was simple. Find out why NATech was so interested in her. She knew now that Posen had been in the pay of NATech. A traitor. She also knew that he was acting under orders to force Abigail to shard. Why? Because there was no clear-cut reason to be found didn't mean there wasn't one. Jody was determined to find it.

  She strolled through the mess and was greeted by smiles and salutes. The morale of the regiment was very high. Although they were still green troops, and were not battle tested, she was confident that they would have the mettle to withstand their first trial by fire, and morale would remain high. She snorted at her choice of words. Better lay off the military reading for a while and curl up with a good romance. Life was too short and hard to be taken so seriously.

  She debated eating a small lunch, but decided against it. Climbing the ladder, as she called ascending levels she wasn't really ready for, left her exhausted, achy, and sick to her stomach. Maybe skipping a meal would ease that last one. She gave a few words of encouragement to a couple of new recruits slaving over their studies during lunch, and stopped by the laundry.

  She always made a point of stopping by the laundry. The dirtiest, most thankless job in the regiment, it seemed to attract the seedier dogs. She had read about Abigail's disastrous turn on this duty, and Private Jackson's cruel mistreatment of her, and would not allow anything even remotely similar to happen here.

  She spent a few minutes talking to the three on the detail, helping to load a few bundles, and departed. Taking a last look around the mess, she made for the hallway that
led to the access room.

  "Lieutenant!"

  Jody turned and saw Sergeant Moss working his way through the mess crowd. She smiled and waited for him. She and Leonard had served together in the Thirty-fifth; he was the first one she pried free when given the 179th. His no-nonsense but evenhanded way with his dogs, especially the recruits, kept a high esprit de corps.

  "Hi, Len. I was just heading over to the access room." Jody continued to walk, and Len fell into step beside her. "I think I may have a job for you."

  "Really? How big and when?"

  "I don't know, yet. Probably not too big, a platoon at most. As for when, I'd guess in three or four days. It's going to be a quick setup and extraction. In Australia."

  Len had a mildly surprised look on his face.

  "An extraction? Who's the target?"

  "I can't say until I get TAU permission. But pick out your platoon and begin a Plan R extraction. I want to make it look like the guy was killed. Set it up so no body can be recovered."

  He whistled. "I've got good people, but they're still untested. It'll be hard, Jody."

  "I'm sure it will be, Len."

  Len cracked a grin and waved, heading back to the mess area. He'd have an initial layout ready to modify within two hours, and a final plan set no more than three hours after she gave him the details. She reached the access room and entered. All she had to do now was convince TAU she knew what she was talking about.

  "Access, Lieutenant Eyer."

  ***

  Deiley carried the two cups of hot tea, one with lemon, the other an herbal, into the tidy little room. He placed them on the table beside the bed. Looking around, he made certain everything was as it should be. He had been painstakingly setting it up for weeks, but still he checked.

  The closet door was open, displaying several modest dresses. The dresser was properly stocked, and the mirror well polished. The floors were bare wood, with a rag rug covering the middle. The small bathroom attached to the room was immaculate and extremely private. Everything was set.