Once we were inside my room, Dorothy lowered me to the mattress. The sheets were off—Miss DeChant planning to do the cleaning no doubt—but I didn't care. I was really hurting and was for some reason very thirsty. I hoped I wasn't bleeding internally.
Dorothy filled a cup of water for me, stopping up the pipe that the girl had left running. She was always forgetting. This time I more than forgave her. It was a waste of water, but it was very cool.
I lay back and let Dorothy tend to me. Not wanting to ruin my other shirt, she eased off my top and removed the wrapping I used for a bra. She then ripped it into three narrower strips and used them as bindings to constrict movement of my ribs. She helped me back into my shirt, then gave me a painkiller that I had squirreled away, anticipating something like this. I felt better, but knew it was only temporary. She sat back, admiring her handiwork. Dorothy was a woman of many talents.
“All right. Let's try to wait until nightfall, then we'll get back to base.” She made the bed underneath me, rolling me gently as needed, then got about cleaning the room. I watched her for a few minutes, but drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
“Abigail!"
An urgent voice pulled me up from my hot sleep. It was so hot I found it difficult to breathe. And every breath was laced with fire. I opened groggy eyes, not really seeing anything.
“Abigail! Child! Wake up!” It was Dorothy. What was she doing ... oh, yeah. We were waiting until dark before returning to base to heal my ribs.
“Wha—?” I said intelligently. I must have really been out of it. Normally, I'm up and a going concern within seconds of waking. “Is it ... is it dark?"
“No.” She spoke in a low but urgent tone. “It's just after two in the afternoon. But we're going to have to leave. I just heard a transport move by the outside wall."
That woke me up. I'd never heard one go by. The field was on the outskirts of the town, and any shard wandering out there was open game. As such, NATech didn't worry too much about it. Their presence here meant only one thing: They'd come to get me. Why, I had no idea, the same as I had no idea why I'd have a guardian angel with a high-powered plasma rifle watching over my entrance.
What value would I have that they could discern? It seemed impossible that they knew about my upcoming attack on the far bank of the Quantum. And the girl would never rate this kind of attention. Nor, for that matter, would Miss DeChant.
Deiley...
Major Deiley would put a sniper there, I was certain of it. He saw something in Miss DeChant that piqued his interest. She'd never said anything about him in her notes, but I'd always had a feeling that she'd felt something for him. Did he feel the same back? It seemed unlikely.
But that didn't change the fact that NATech was here to take me away. Nor did it change the fact that I didn't want to be taken away. Maybe Deiley was watching out for me. But maybe these guys were off duty and had heard about the scuffle. Or the sniper had reported in. No matter. It was time to go.
“Dorothy, get my gun.” I rolled to my side and sat up. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But I managed.
“It's right here. I pulled it out before waking you.” I kept the gun hidden to protect the girl. The last thing I needed to do was arm a pleasure ripe, though I'd told Miss DeChant where it was.
I took it from Dorothy, turned on the charger and switched to sonic inducer. I'd never had the opportunity to use it since Dusty had modified it all those months ago. I hoped it worked.
Dorothy helped me to my feet and we left. I would never be coming back to this place, but I didn't look behind me. Dorothy had snatched my Bible, my other shirt and the notes from her and Miss DeChant, and that was all I wanted. They could keep the rest. Of course, other than my bed and makeshift cross, there was nothing else.
At my direction, we cut around the back of the room and began picking our way through the heavy machinery and maze of scattered parts and abandoned inventory toward my bolthole. I'd said there was only one entrance and I was accurate. Where we were going was an exit, designed to be used only once.
Behind me I heard the pounding of feet racing to my room. But by now we were over one hundred meters away, and we would not be found. The bolthole dropped down to the basement and led into an adjacent building. We walked along the dirty, twisting path and worked our way around piles of trash and fallen masonry, making very little noise. Though Dorothy still helped me on occasion, I was breathing fairly easily and could walk on my own. When we finally emerged on the street, we were two blocks down and three blocks over.
* * * *
“Sorry, sir, but the target has evaded us."
“She's not a target, Sergeant. She's a woman.” Deiley felt a flash of irritation. Not at the man's callousness, but at himself for correcting so trivial a detail.
“Yes, sir. We still haven't discovered her escape route, but it probably doesn't matter. It's been thirty minutes since we entered her room."
“Thirty minutes. Which almost certainly means she's at their base by now. Very well, Sergeant. Continue the search for the women, just in case they've been hindered. Remind your men of the consequences if either are hurt or molested."
“Unlikely they'll need reminding, sir. You were quite explicit to me and I made sure I was the same to my men."
“Good. Carry on. Oh, by the way, Sergeant?"
“Yes, sir?"
“How did they know about your arrival?"
The sergeant had an exasperated look on his face. “The first team brought their hov in along the outer wall. Standard tactic, but they'd been told this wasn't a standard retrieval. The woman's room is against that wall. She would have heard the approach."
“And you dealt with it by..."
“By executing the squad leader, sir.” The sergeant sounded slightly surprised that such a routine subject was even brought up. Deiley nodded and switched off.
* * * *
“That should do it, Abby.” Doctor Weaver put down her sounder and felt my ribs. “They'll be a little tender for a few days. And there will be some bruising. But you'll make it so long as you can avoid knife fights for a week or so.” She smiled tiredly, the smile of an overworked but greatly valued physician.
“Thanks, Doctor. That's good advice. Now if only the people with the knives will follow it.” I took a deep breath and felt only a twinge. Much better.
I hopped down off the table and went to find Alan, closing my shirt. Everywhere, people were moving busily around, packing up equipment and breaking down the base. That was my fault. I darted in and out of the nearly chaotic scene, knowing just where I'd find Alan.
He was in our access room, working on the power feed. All Resistance bases used their own power source to prevent dependence on a civilian power grid. Even our operation had an ionic mass converter, though much smaller and somewhat older than most regiments. Since neither it nor this base would be ours much longer, we were going to push the generator to the red line. That meant disengaging the safety cutoffs and optimizing power flow for the high volume that the variable mass simulator and our next access were going to demand. That's what Alan was doing now. That and trying not to get killed if an unleashed plasma tendril burned through the conduits and into the crawlway where he worked. He looked down from his perch and flipped up the feedback shield. He was shirtless and sweaty. I'd been up there before, and if I were up there now, I'd be shirtless and sweaty. Well, sweaty at any rate. He noticed my easy movement and nodded approvingly.
“Much better,” he said, voicing the same judgment I'd made. “Nice timing, too. I need you to fine-tune the calibration of our variable mass simulator. The last person just walked off the job.” He winked at me slyly.
“Have her found and ridiculed, then.” I laughed and picked up my tool kit.
We worked quietly for an hour, finishing up our battleground. In just a few hours, we'd be crossing the Quantum, and nothing would be left to chance. Of course, I could always shard, but I somehow doubted that would happen. With t
he exception of Posen's induced episode, I never sharded once I was in the puterverse.
As I said, we worked quietly. But it was far from quiet. The base was being transferred and there was an urgency that was very efficient but also very loud. Equipment, supplies, food, everything was being packed and loaded onto the three phase hovs we had and moved to a predetermined location. With a little luck, NATech wouldn't move against us for several more hours, and even then it would require another hour or so to burn through the shielding I'd rigged. When we settled here a few months ago, I set up a series of molecule-thick shields set at alternating harmonic frequencies that could be activated in the event of an attack. Although each shield could only withstand a moderate attack—say one punch from a heavy plasma gun—the shields were layered like an onionskin and there were hundreds of them. Of course, the shield served a very strict defensive model. We couldn't shoot out. And it cut us off from the atmosphere, so we had limited air. But it did give us time to evacuate. And as long as I could initiate my access before they began the attack, I felt there was enough time to finish my fight before breakthrough.
I finished calibration just as Alan completed the power flow modifications. He dropped down from the access crawlway and wiped off his bare, sweaty chest with his shirt. He back was to me, so I sneaked a long look. It seemed impossible that I had once looked at women like this and thought the thoughts I now had toward Alan. The look of his hard, muscled back, the heady man scent, the confidence that seemed to emanate from him, they all made my heart trip. We would never be more than friends, and both of us knew that. But that didn't mean that I couldn't have a friend with such a wonderful smile and gorgeous butt.
I shook my head to throw off such thoughts and started putting away my tools. The time for idle fantasizing was forever denied me now. All that lay ahead for me was one last moment to try and make a difference. After that—if I avoided capture and execution by NATech—a few more weeks of slowly breaking down before I was carried into the Room to wait, my few remaining friends standing by to ease my final pains.
* * * *
Two hours later, my friends were standing by me. Not to ease my pain but to help me begin my final mission. Alan on my left, Mike on my right, and Kiki in front of me, working her unique brand of magic. We were facing the Quantum back door, and Kiki was working through the second to last lock. We had to shield our eyes somewhat from Kiki's bright light. To avoid detection, we had temporarily eschewed UTC and were accessing at level thirty-two. Kiki wasn't coming with us, and was at total access. I'd never realized the difference. Did my actions come off this bright—almost painful—to others? I'd have to allow for that in my future accesses. Right. Like I had a future.
At my direction, she was being careful not to disrupt the locks but to work through them. I had told them I didn't want the aura that resulted from such large discharges to attract worms or other unwanted attention. I was being only partially truthful. No, I was lying. I didn't really care about what was on this side of the Quantum.
The last lock turned from dark black to a smoky crystal and fell off, a bright, apple-scented key in its keyhole. Kiki lowered her arms.
“Okay, Abby! That's the last one I can do without force. The last one is the original one, and there's no way to pick a hard-coded lock that old.” She stepped up to it and peered at it closely, then spoke as if it were an honorable and respected enemy.
“It is formidable looking, isn't it?"
I stood up next to her and eyed it. It was formidable looking.
“Not to worry, Kiki. All you need is the right key.” I held out my hand, fingers splayed. A terminal with keyboard rose from the ground. I plugged the data feed into the lock and typed out a single word. The lock imploded and turned to dust, a small cloud floating slowly down.
“'Gotcha'?” Kiki asked, referring to the password.
“Believe me, Kiki, there's nothing more embarrassing than forgetting your backdoor password. Something this well hidden would have an easy password, one that you'd never have to write down."
“How did you know it, Abby?” Alan asked.
“Chris worked for me, remember?” At his startled look, I realized he hadn't known. “Sorry, Alan. I thought you knew. Anyway, he wouldn't have told me his passwords outright. Not ones like this. But credit me with a little intelligence. I wasn't his boss by accident. I considered it a personal challenge to know all my employees’ backdoors and passwords.” I shook my head at the memory. “That seems so long ago, even for me. Well. Onward and upward! Rather, downward."
I shoved the door open and it disappeared like the lock, leaving only a quickly dissipating cloud of dust. It dropped straight down into pitch-blackness. I tried to light it up, but was unable to. Mike whistled.
“Not a good sign. Could this be a known access port, Abby?"
“Known or not, Mike,” I responded, “This is all we've got.” I turned to Kiki. “See you later, kid. Keep the porch light on.” I stepped into the darkness.
As soon as I started falling, I knew we were in trouble. I was falling much too fast for the puterverse. I tried to control my fall, but with non-UTC. Which meant I failed. I just went loose and relied on my instinct and reflexes to keep me safe.
A few seconds later I discovered my faith was well founded. I sensed more than felt the ground and braced myself at just the right time. I felt a small jolt in my ribs, but otherwise landed fine. I stepped forward into a barely seen opening and made room for Alan and Mike. They landed seconds later without mishap.
“Okay, Kiki.” I called quietly, looking up the shaft. “Let's have some light.” Alan jerked me back, and I grinned sheepishly. Not too wise looking directly into a solar burst I couldn't see coming. We all faced the opening that reached under the Quantum.
There was a flash behind us. I wouldn't exactly say the tunnel was flooded with light. Flooded was too strong. Perhaps moistened. We could see, that was it. It looked dank and unused. It smelled dank and unused. We struck out, me leading point, Mike and Alan coming behind. Inside me, I felt the beast starting to stir.
Fortunately, the tunnel lived up to its billing. It was dank and unused. We went maybe one hundred meters when the tunnel ended at another hole. I stepped up to it and peered in. It was filled with Quantum data.
“Geez!” Mike said with exasperation. “This thing has been here so long, the river's breached and filled it! Now what?"
“Gotcha, Mike!” I laughed at his mistake. “You've just fallen for an old one!” I turned to Alan. “What's wrong with this picture, Alan?"
He looked at it carefully for a moment, then began chuckling. “It does look like the tunnel's flooded, Abby. But we're below river level, so that means our tunnel should be flooded as well.” He looked at Mike. “Gotcha, Mike."
Mike didn't say anything, but I think this little trick helped. He'd always had a pretty low opinion of flesh—other than me and a couple of my friends—and this served notice that we humans still had a few things we could teach him. Still chuckling, I stepped into the data stream.
I fell less than three meters and it was as we suspected: the data was illusory. The illusion continued for perhaps ten more meters, then discontinued, revealing a danker, darker, and tinier tunnel. I waited for the boys to join me, then we moved along. We were on the last leg.
After what seemed forever—I wondered if we were being subjected to the same warping I'd used on other people—we reached the tunnel's end. There was a set of rungs reaching up into a stygian darkness thick enough to have substance.
“This is it?” Alan asked.
“This is it. No sense waiting around.” I jumped up lightly, grabbed a rung, and started climbing. Mike, then Alan, followed close behind. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I still had the humorous thought that it was a good thing I wasn't in a dress.
We climbed for what seemed like ages. It made no difference to us; though we had weight, it had no effect on our strength. One rung or one million, the effort
was the same. It was a little bothersome that an attempt like this was even made. Maybe that was the point of this, to bother us. But we remained fairly patient and we reached the top. There was no tunnel here, just a small room surrounding the hole we'd climbed out of. We remained pressed close to the sides. At my back was a large door.
“Shall I burn through it, Abby?” Mike's eyes lit up the room, and I could see the energy starting to shine through the restraining armor he had on. Alan and I could access at various levels. Mike couldn't. To him, everything was total access at UTC. To cover that signature, he used a type of negative shielding. It weakened him, but hid his presence.
“No need, Mike.” I reached for it, and it opened under my hand. “It's unlocked. In any event, I doubt it will even be here in a moment.” I took a deep breath. “Ready, gentlemen?” They nodded and all of us went to total access. As I suspected, the door, walls, and tunnel vanished, and we were on the far side of the Quantum.
* * * *
“We've achieved breakthrough, sir.” The lieutenant gave a crisp salute to Major Deiley, but wasted no more time. “The first squad blitzed in, but there was no one there. I'm sending the next four squads in now."
“Very good, Lieutenant. I expect the base will be nearly deserted.” It had better be; he'd given them more than enough time to pull out. This way, the Resistance could continue with their work, and he wouldn't lose men unnecessarily. But he was probably quick enough to still find Miss Wyeth here.
He and the lieutenant walked together to the base, the lieutenant occasionally giving out orders. They reached the main entrance and went in. Other than his men, it was deserted.
They gone into a long hallway, used to house the shards, when a soldier came running up behind them. He jerked to a stop and saluted.
“We've found two of them, sir! They're in the puterverse. Corporal White sent me to inform you and to tell you he and two others were going in on their own initiative."
Shards [Book Three] Page 21