“Well, at least he’s alive.”
Vasper tapped the wristband again and collapsed the map. He stared at Kettle for a moment, and then at Haley. “They’re going to torture him for information. And it’s going to be bad.”
The sick feeling in Kettle’s stomach twisted and cranked up a notch.
“Look,” Vasper said. “I heard from Caurfo that both of you went through some pretty tough situations on VGCP Eleven, yeah? Some life and death stuff. Some close calls.”
“That’s right.”
“That’s what this is.” The sergeant pointed to the low peaks to the south, which were now shrouded in the early darkness of the evening. “Those men out there are hunting us, and if they catch us, it’s going to be game over for us. This is one of those moments where the little choices, the minute details, are going to be the difference between us living and us dying. I’m not telling you this to scare you or motivate you; I’m telling you this so that you know what’s out there and what’s going to happen to us if we don’t keep moving.”
Kettle and Haley exchanged glances but not words. They didn’t have to; there was no point debating Vasper’s logic. “Well, shit,” Kettle said and reached for one of Vasper’s infuse-blocks. Haley did the same, and the three of them silently began chewing on the dense blueberry(ish)-tasting meal supplement.
For Kettle, it was an effort to keep it down. His old self, the VGCP Seven Kettle, would have thrown up. No, the old Kettle would have been in a coma after everything that he had gone through today. Earth Kettle was a useless sack of meat.
He briefly thought of the four dead men. He tried to remember the faces of the men in Colonel Caurfo’s unit and then wondered which of them had lost their lives. After a minute, he forced himself to stop that morbid line of thought. He reminded himself of Caurfo’s initial reaction to the sabotaged Kye-shiv. It was obvious that someone had intended for them all to die this morning, but Caurfo knew that to dwell on the point was to invite disaster. There was an order to things. The colonel was going to first put all his energy and focus into dealing with the Yensh threat and completing the mission. Only then would he set his mind to the assassination plot. Kettle recognized that he, too, needed to start prioritizing objectives. Before he could mourn the dead or deal with any other emotional needs, including his feelings for Haley, he needed to focus on the most basic of needs – survival.
Dinner over, Vasper stood up and motioned for his two companions to do the same. Kettle held his hand out. “Give me a hand up?”
Vasper clasped Kettle’s outstretched hand and pulled him up to his feet. The sudden surge of pain rising through his legs from ankle to hip forced an abbreviated gasp to crawl out his throat. He could feel a stinging blister in on the bottom of his big left toe as well, which didn’t help.
Vasper helped Haley up next. She had pretty much the same reaction, though she gritted her teeth and held in the gasp.
“Have a flashlight in that pack of yours?” Kettle inquired. “Or three of them?”
“No.”
“How are we going to navigate this terrain in the dark? Braille?”
Vasper pointed up.
“What? The moon?”
He nodded.
Kettle considered it. The moon was three quarters full, and there were no clouds bar a few mediocre wisps here and there. “Okay. Fair enough. Shall we get this show on the road?”
Vasper turned and led them off the plateau.
The next few hours were hellish. Kettle searched for the right word to describe it as he shuffled forward, one painful step after another. Apocalyptic came to mind. There was a lot of stumbling and one all-out fall into the dirt. The pain in his legs made it hard to concentrate on anything else. He certainly didn’t pay attention to which direction they were heading in or what kind of trail they were following. All he could do was watch Vasper’s legs moving in front of him and try to keep up.
At one point, the sound of barking snapped him out of the generally numb mental haze that he had descended into. It wasn’t close, but Kettle imagined that the hunters’ dog had found their scent. He thought about getting Vasper’s opinion on the matter, but he was too tired to move and talk simultaneously.
At roughly the three-hour mark, Vasper stopped at a narrow but deep brook to take a long drink. Kettle and Haley both collapsed on the ground. “Hurry up and drink,” Vasper commanded. His voice was low, making Kettle wonder if the sergeant sensed that danger was somewhere nearby. “Now. You need to hydrate.”
Kettle rolled up onto all fours and crawled toward the water. “Vasper, you’re half Yoda, half Nazi.”
“I don’t know what either of those things are.”
Kettle dunked his whole head in the brook and let the cold water shock him into a higher state of alertness. He then drank his fill and repositioned himself into a sitting position where he could watch Vasper check his map.
Haley was watching him, too. “How close are we?”
“About thirteen kilometers.”
“We only did nine kilometers just now?”
“No, we did more than that. I adjusted or course.”
“Why?”
“The straight-line route has too much elevation gain. The new way is longer, but it’s flatter. Easier on the legs.”
“Wise choice,” Kettle said.
“Besides, it’s good to change directions a lot. If we run straight, they’ll guess where we’re going and send men to ambush us. Come on.” He motioned for them to stand up again. “We should keep moving.”
“What about Jovis?” Haley asked as she lifted herself up.
“Still alive.”
“Caurfo?”
“Same.”
They started running again. Vasper led them on what looked to be a well-used animal trail that meandered very gradually downward through grassy meadows and loose forest. It reminded Kettle of some of the areas he had visited in rural Washington State.
It took another thirty minutes before Kettle realized that he was starting to feel better. This perplexed him. It was counter-intuitive. He should have felt dead on his feet, but there was life coming back into his legs. It was as if he had gone through the depth of exhaustion and pushed past it to come out the other side. He didn’t feel energetic now, but at least he didn’t feel like there were shards of broken glass scattered rubbing up against the muscles and ligaments in the lower half of his body. His mind began to clear as well. Less foggy.
Vasper had been right about the moonlight. Things got a bit dicey wherever the trees thickened, but in the meadows, the moon provided sufficient illumination to keep the trio from tripping over big rocks or stepping in the occasional depression. They spotted the occasional wildlife grazing in the long grass.
Time slipped by more quickly as he reentered something approximating a comfort zone. The trail began climbing again, but not steeply. Kettle didn’t mind the uphill; it was easier on his quads than going downhill.
The only real problem he was facing now was the cold. His clothes were damp from the buckets of sweat that had come out of his body, and the temperature had steadily dropped. Now, every few minutes, he shivered involuntarily. He knew that if he stopped, he’d be in trouble.
He couldn’t have said how much time passed before the sound of dogs rang out in the night air. There were definitely multiple dogs, not one, and they were much closer now. The men must have made up a lot of ground. He guessed they were probably only a kilometer or two back. Kettle had to give it to the Yensh; they were persistent. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder to see if he could spot lights through the trees.
“How much further?” he asked between breaths.
“About five k, I think.” There was a note of pain in his voice. Even the sergeant’s strength was beginning to fade under the strain of such a long run.
“Those dogs have our scent.”
“Yes.”
“Options?”
“Our best shot is to get to those caves.
If you’re Zero Stock, you can get us inside the inner walls and into the site.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then we’re probably screwed.”
Kettle didn’t have a response to that. He heard Haley start to say something, but before she could get a sentence out, a gunshot ripped through the night.
At least, he thought it was a gunshot. Then a secondary boom echoed out behind and above their position, and the sky turned bright red.
A flare.
Another shot, and another boom. More bright light.
“Run faster,” Vasper yelled. “They’re coming.”
2.5 ELISKA
“You’re Mr. Toad?”
“Yes, that’s right. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face.”
“I was expecting someone a little . . . I’m sorry, but . . .”
“Older?”
“Yes.”
“I get that a lot.”
“I’m sorry. This is very rude of me, but how old are you?”
“Not at all. I’m twenty-four.
“And you’re the one who’s been messaging me?”
“That’s right, doctor. I understand how you’re feeling right now, Eliska. I hope you don’t mind me calling you Eliska. I know that my age might seem . . . off-putting for you, but I’d like to assure you that I’m very experienced for my age.”
Eliska doubted that. It was easy for young people to think they knew everything when they hadn’t lived long enough to comprehend the naivety of their youth. Nevertheless, the person standing in front of her didn’t look cocky or arrogant. Nor did he seem condescending. He gave off a well-mannered, inquisitive vibe. His stature was non-threatening. His height was average, his face unremarkable, and his tussled brown hair somehow made him look intelligent and friendly at the same time.
“Mr. Bell and Mr. Stalock, I presume.” He extended a hand to greet the two rifle-bearing United States Marines, and, after grasping each man’s hand with a firm handshake, approached Saeliko, who was still wearing cuffs on her wrists. “Your name is Saeliko.” He stood in front of her and took a moment to examine her facial features. “The tattoos are exceptional. Do forgive me for staring; this is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to meet a Saffisheen. This is an honor for me, although I’m embarrassed to say that I’m not as well versed in your culture as I should be. I’m not familiar with your greeting customs. May I shake your hand as well, or is there another protocol I should follow?”
Saeliko put forward her bonded wrists and allowed Mr. Toad to grip her right hand. She didn’t say anything, but she looked the twenty-four-year-old up and down, perhaps taking stock of the man.
Eliska considered what to say next, but she was at a momentary loss for words. So many secret messages sent back and forth between herself and the mysterious Mr. Toad, and now that she was face to face with her accomplice in crime, she was tongue tied.
“You’re not Zodo, so who do you work for?” Dallas asked, picking up the slack in dialogue.
Mr. Toad smiled and gestured toward Eliska. “I believe she can tell you that.” Then he turned and addressed her straight on. “You’ve guessed already, haven’t you?”
Eliska nodded. She had had her suspicions for a long time. There were a number of VGCP corporations operating on the planet, but one of them was far ahead on the tech and encryption front. “You work for Sage Systems.”
“That’s right.”
“What’s Sage Systems?” Dallas asked.
“Rival company,” she replied. “They specialize in integrated human-robotics interface technologies. Neural implants, AI systems, that sort of thing. The decoder in the back of your head is a Sage product. So was the AI in the elevator back in ARCOB.”
“Roy?”
“Yep.”
“He wasn’t a Zodo creation?”
“Sage has contracts to handle the tech side of most of the big corporations.”
“Not really a rival then.”
Eliska frowned. “Even rivals do business with one another. This is the way it is done on most developed worlds. Does it not work that way on Earth?”
Dallas furrowed his brow during a moment of thought, but it was Soup who answered for him. “Yeah, it does.” He looked at Dallas and said, “Apple buys Samsung chips.”
“No kidding.”
“Uh huh.”
Mr. Toad lifted his right hand into the air to refocus attention on himself. “Be that as it may, Sage likes to think of itself as distinct from Zodo in several crucial characteristics, first and foremost in terms of our adherence to a strict moral code of conduct. And please don’t misunderstand me when I tell you this, for I’ll be the first to admit that my employers are as prone to greed and avarice as any other corporate executives, but Zodo has crossed lines that Sage will not. Which, ultimately, is why you are here.”
“I don’t understand that part,” Soup admitted. “Why are we here?”
“You’re a rescue mission, Mr. Bell. Your friends need your help.”
“Haley and Kettle?”
“Yes.”
“How?” There was concern written on his face. Dallas appeared worried as well.
“I’ll explain everything, but time is becoming an issue, so if you wouldn’t mind, I propose we continue our conversation in the air.” He gestured to the loading door of the Cloudrunner behind him.
Eliska put an arm on Soup’s shoulder and urged him to follow Mr. Toad’s suggestion. She glanced at Dallas as well to make sure he understood that she approved. Eliska knew that the two Earthlings were in the dark and guessed that they could both use a continued source of leadership to make them more confident in their actions.
Eliska also knew that Saeliko didn’t need any guidance whatsoever. The Saffisheen followed Mr. Toad toward the craft, probably more out of curiosity than anything else. There were no signs of hesitancy or concern on her face.
The Cloudrunner was smaller than a Kye-shiv, with fewer seats and less headroom. But it was also less Spartan. The Kye-shiv had a more military feel. The Cloudrunner was more a corporate beast. The walls were smoother with softer curves, the cabin was well lit, and there were little touches that hinted at wealth and luxury. The armrests for each seat had digital controls so that individual passengers could access flight and communications data. The light ports were ensconced in gold brackets, and the seats themselves were plusher.
As soon as everyone was aboard and the rear hatch was closed, the pilot fired up the engines. This was different as well. Kye-shivs vibrated; the Cloudrunner hummed.
Liftoff was smooth, and Eliska couldn’t help but relax just a little, a feeling that was magnified by their host’s calm and polite demeaner. She also noted that other than a single pilot, there were no other Sage employees present. She took this as a sign of trust given that both Soup and Dallas were carrying rifles.
“I’ll brief you as best I can,” Mr. Toad said to his guests once the Cloudrunner had accelerated to cruising speed. He shifted his weight in his chair and leaned forward. “Sage has been concerned with Zodo’s more dubious activities for a long time, particularly in the last decade. All of the other VGCP One corporations have for the most part adhered to the legal restraints imposed upon us by our home governments before the verse gates were closed. With few exceptions, we play fair. Zodo doesn’t. More worryingly, Zodo’s goal appears to be total hegemony.
“There are not a great many methods at our disposal to combat Zodo’s ascendance. Sage and the other corporations have little in the way of military strength, and there are no legal means of reigning in a rogue corporation. And we obviously can’t call to VGCP One or any other planetary government for aid. However, we’re not powerless either. Sage went to its strength. We’re a tech company, so for some time now, we’ve used our digital savviness to break into Zodo’s systems. In the beginning, we were mostly interested in strategic data collection, but once we had a greater understanding of Zodo’s clandestine operations, we began searchi
ng for ways to apply our knowledge proactively.
“Our relationship with Dr. Tannishoy was one such method. About eight months ago, we identified the good doctor as someone with both the means and the will to help us in our fight against Zodo, so we reached out to her. Our intuition was confirmed, and she agreed to provide us with assistance. And I am very certain that in a few moments, when I tell you why you’re here today, you’ll be very thankful that Dr. Tannishoy decided to take a stand against her employer.
“As you are already aware, your friends Merrick Kettle and Haley Yoon were sent on a mission to reach Zero Site 1607. They were told that because of their Zero ancestry, they would be able to enter a Zero facility and hopefully obtain information that could lead to a cure for the Zero virus.” Mr. Toad adjusted his position and leaned forward even further, hands in front of him to emphasize the next point. “That was a lie. Zodo never had any intention of letting your friends get to the Zero site. They’re not interested in finding a cure to the Zero virus.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Dallas said. “They put them on a Kye-shiv with a military unit. I saw them leave ARCOB. Why go to all the effort of briefing Kettle and Haley and flying them out there if they didn’t want them to get near the site?”
“Appearances. It’s a smoke and mirrors show.” He leaned back again in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Collectively, Zodo’s quadrant managers, including Brennov, are satisfied with the status quo. They like the fact that VGCP One is quarantined, and they’re no longer interested in trying to cure the virus. Without interference from the combined governments and military strength on VGCP One, Zodo has found itself in a position to dominate the sixteen remaining connected planets. That’s a lot of power.
“However, there are powerful individuals, including some within Zodo, who find that perspective unpalatable. They have families and friends who, for all they know, are suffering and dying. Even if those family members haven’t contracted the virus, they must live in constant fear. We know VGCP One hasn’t found a cure because if they had, the gates would have been opened.
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