by G J Ogden
“The worst part is, he’s somehow managed to get hold of nuclear missiles,” Hallam chipped in, adding the one crucial element that Dakota hadn’t mentioned.
“Nuclear missiles?” Dr. Rand repeated. Out of everything the scientist had just been told, this fact seemed to shock and worry her the most. “Even Doyle would not be that reckless.”
“I don’t think Rikkard is following Damien Doyle’s playbook anymore,” said Dakota. “One of his squadron, the mercenary called Draga Vex, got killed back on the rogue world.”
Hallam nodded enthusiastically. “It’s definitely about Rikkard’s own personal revenge now, and that makes him much more dangerous.” Then he glanced at Dakota, adding, “He let me go back there. He wants to take us out face-to-face, up close and personal.”
Dakota snorted. “I’d like to see that asshole try. If it wasn’t for his fancy power armor, I’d kick his ass all across the twelve systems.”
“You will get your chance, Miss Wulfrun, but park that thought for the moment,” said Dr. Rand, mirroring Dakota’s steely resolve. She then indicated for Hallam and Dakota to walk with her, and they set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the operations command center. “However, we must not lose sight of our goal. If Cad Rikkard is telling the truth, and he does know the locations of the other bases, we will have to further accelerate our plans to destroy the Centrum.” Then she glanced to Hallam, eyebrow raised. “But there was also another development while you were gone.”
Dr. Rand left her mysterious statement hanging in the air until they reached the command center. The scientist led them inside the briefing room that they’d all become familiar with, and tapped a rapid sequence of commands into the computer. A varied collection of BridgeNet and dark BridgeNet forums pages and conspiracy theory websites appeared above the holo projector, including some small independent news channels. Hallam didn’t know where to start, so he picked one of the entries at random and read the headline. Then he had to read it again and read several more headlines just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Dr. Shelby Rand alive and leader of notorious Darkspace Renegades…” Hallam said, reading a random entry out loud, though the astonishment was evident in his voice. “Randenite to blame for gravitational anomalies… Thirteenth bridge world cover up scandal… Damien Doyle hid secret alien research center… Alien robots will doom us all.” Hallam snorted a laugh and pointed to the last entry. “I like that one,” he said, grinning. Dr. Rand, however, was not amused, and so Hallam quickly changed his tune to a more somber melody. “Where is all this coming from, Doc?” he asked, wiping the grin from his face. “And how come Doyle’s censorship net hasn’t scrubbed them already?”
Dr. Rand tapped at the console for a couple more seconds and the online profile of an unknown hacker appeared on the holo. The mugshot was merely a blank silhouette, while the name simply read “Falken.”
“I’m guessing this Falken person isn’t some sort of bird lover?” said Hallam, skim-reading the profile.
“Ornithology is not this person’s specialty, no,” replied Dr. Rand, folding her arms and scrutinizing the information. “She is a notorious hacker. Perhaps the most notorious hacker of the last century. And, by all accounts, a genius.”
“And she’s responsible for all of the stories that have been flooding onto the BridgeNet?” asked Dakota, sounding just as surprised as Hallam.
“Yes, and she claims to have proof too,” Dr. Rand answered. “Proof of my continued existence, knowledge of the incident at Damien Doyle’s rogue world complex, and of how Shelby Drive technology is responsible for damaging the bridges and causing the gravitational anomalies.”
Dakota let out a long, high-pitched whistle. “I don’t suppose we know where she’s getting this all from?” she asked.
“Not as yet,” admitted Dr. Rand. “However, what is remarkable is not the content, but the fact that it’s being believed and rapidly spread. I have tried to plant similar seeds inside the dark BridgeNet many times before, but Doyle’s censorship network scrubbed them before they could ever gain traction. Falken appears to have started a fire that even Doyle’s vast online security net cannot contain.”
Hallam peered at the anonymous outline of the hacker and chewed the inside of his mouth. “Maybe we can try to contact or even locate this Falken character?” he suggested, feeling buoyed by the receipt of some good news for a change. “If she has this much sway online, she could help us to break through Doyle’s firewall and finally get our message heard broadly. If we can turn people against Doyle and the Consortium, it will certainly help our cause.”
Dr. Rand nodded. “I had a similar thought, but that’s a matter for another time. We can’t rely on public support or the support of planetary governments,” the scientist went on. “Do not forget that Damien Doyle has bought or blackmailed a great number of people in positions of power.”
“And even if there was support, it would take time to convince people to stop bridge travel,” said Dakota, agreeing with Dr. Rand. “There would be investigations and high-level summits and who knows what else. By the time anyone got around to acting, it would be too late.”
Hallam rubbed his aching neck and considered what both of them had said, but although he hoped sense would prevail, Dakota was right. The gears of the bureaucratic machine were slow and complex, and even a weakened Damien Doyle would still have significant political influence.
“But I lost the alien probe component,” said Hallam, drawing his hand away from his aching muscles and folding them across his chest. “And with the rogue world gone, how are we supposed to get another?”
The scientist cleared the holo display and threw up a new image of a planet. Hallam squinted at the world, feeling that there was something vaguely familiar about it, though the continents didn’t match those of Earth, or any of the twelve bridge worlds. Hallam’s eyes then widened as he recognized the distinctive s-shaped continent in the northern hemisphere and remembered where he’d seen the planet before. Dr. Rand had shown it to him the first time they had met. However, the excitement at this epiphany was tempered by the sudden understanding of what the scientist was about to propose.
“You want us to go to the thirteenth bridge world and find another alien probe?” said Hallam, though speaking the words out loud only made them sound more ludicrous.
Dakota laughed and cocked her head at Hallam, as if to say, “ha, ha, good one…” However, she then met Dr. Rand’s unyielding eyes and her face fell. “You’re serious?” said Dakota, still locked on to Dr. Rand like a missile.
“It will be a challenge, but one that is not insurmountable,” Dr. Rand answered coolly.
“Not insurmountable? But isn’t that whole star system in chaos?” Dakota continued, clearly stunned that Dr. Rand was seriously suggesting they travel to the stricken alien world. “With all the gravitational instability in that system, how could we even hope to navigate to the planet, never mind land on it?”
Hallam leant forward and rested his elbows on the circular table, eager to hear Dr. Rand’s explanation. He too was highly skeptical about the mission, but given the scientist’s secretive nature, he was guessing this suggestion was not just thrown into the mix on a whim. When Dr. Rand answered, he knew his hunch had been correct.
“I have visited the alien system several times in the last few years,” Dr. Rand began. She tapped her console, which made the image draw back from the planet to show the entire star system. “And while I was there, I deployed some probes of my own.”
Dr. Rand tapped the console again, and the representation of the star system began to animate, showing the chaotic orbits of the planets. On the face of it, Dakota seemed to be right, Hallam thought. There was no way they could possibly navigate through such a anarchic planetary system. Then the display updated again and began moving much more slowly. As it did so, a route was highlighted through space, snaking across the system in what seemed like a random path, until it fin
ally connected with one of the planets.
“What appears, on the face of it, to be chaos, is in fact not,” said Dr. Rand, pointing to the new route that had appeared. “Though it may not obey the established laws of physics, the thirteenth system is actually stable. Using my probes, I’ve been able to re-build the gravitational map that I created during my initial expedition for Doyle ten years ago. I will need more time to plan, but I believe we can reach the alien planet at a precise point in its orbit where we can safely walk on the surface.”
Hallam stayed silent while he pondered the idea further. It was clearly dangerous, but he didn’t see another option. He then glanced across to Dakota in an attempt to gauge her openness to the idea. However, judging from the deepening furrows across Dakota’s brow, he guessed that she was less than enthused at the prospect of visiting the alien homeworld.
“You’re actually considering this?” said Dakota.
“I trust the doc can get us there,” replied Hallam. Then he shrugged and sighed audibly. “Honestly, Dak, I don’t see that we have a choice.”
Dakota laughed and shook her head. “And I thought Ruby was the crazy one.” Then she also sighed and leant onto the circular table, mimicking Hallam’s own stance before meeting Dr. Rand’s eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but when can we be ready to leave?”
28
Cad Rikkard followed Falken up the stairs to the mezzanine level of her mountain lair on Vediovis. For once, she had opened the door promptly, which Cad had put down to her obvious eagerness to get hold of the data he was offering. Conversely, her constant prattling during the long walk to the mezzanine had been entirely consistent with all their other visits to the hacker’s domain.
“So, do you have the data, then?” said Falken, practically skipping to her enormous, high-backed chair in front of rows of computers and displays.
Alexis followed Cad onto the mezzanine and her attention was immediately drawn to a nineteen eighties movie playing on Falken’s old-fashioned cinema setup. A man holding a whip and a gold statue was running through a cave tunnel, chased by a giant boulder. Alexis walked over to the plush leather recliner, picked up the remote control for the system, and turned off the screen.
“Not a fan?” said Falken.
Like Cad, the hacker had apparently assumed that Alexis would grab some snacks and sit down to watch the movie.
“I’m not really in the mood,” replied Alexis flatly, hanging a few meters back from Falken’s desk and folding her arms tightly.
Cad then tossed a data device onto the desk, which slid across the smooth surface and slipped inside an empty popcorn packet. Falken hurriedly fished it out, spilling crumbs all over her pants, then dropped it onto a device reader.
“So let’s see what we have…” Falken said while skimming through the files, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. She stopped on the video recording of the rogue world’s destruction, taken by Cad’s shipboard camera, and started to play it on a holo screen. Falken watched the recording for a short time, eyes wide and, at least in Cad’s assessment, more than a little fearful. “What planet is this?” said Falken, pointing at the display. “Or which one was it, at least. It doesn’t look like there’s much left.”
“That was Damien Doyle’s top-secret planet, at the other end of the bridge from the Vestan asteroid field,” replied Cad levelly. “The anomaly you will see later in that recording is what’s causing the gravitational instabilities on Vesta and its moon.” Falken went back to skimming through the files, her foot tapping on the metal floor at a hundred beats per minute the whole time. “Amongst other things, you’ll also find a security feed from Pales, clearly showing Rand,” Cad continued as the tapping grew louder. “Also edited recordings of my conversations with Damien Doyle that I logged in secret, and sensor data to back up the video recordings.”
Falken didn’t answer. She was now completely engrossed in the files, head on a swivel, eyes flicking from one screen to another. And all the while her foot-tapping grew faster and louder. Cad closed his eyes and drew in long, deep breaths of the stale air inside the mountain lair, but he was unable to quell the fire building inside him. Swiftly drawing his reforged Black Prince sword from its scabbard, he stabbed it at Falken’s tapping foot. The drumming immediately stopped, and Falken’s eyes shot down to see the blade impaled through the toe of her shoe and into the metal plating beneath it.
“You can read all this data when we’ve gone,” said Cad, pulling the blade clear and sheathing it again. His tone had remained amiable, despite his actions suggesting otherwise. Falken glanced down at her foot and waggled her toes inside the now split-open shoe. All five were still attached, and her relief was palpable. “Do you have the item we requested?” Cad asked as Falken slipped off her shoe and pulled her foot up onto the seat of the chair. She was staring down at it, like it was an alien appendage.
“Yeah, it’s right there,” Falken said, pointing to the other side of the desk, though she was still examining her foot. “That was an amazing shot,” she added, waggling her toes. “How did you manage to miss?”
“I wasn’t trying to miss,” said Cad, brushing half-empty soda bottles and an assortment of snack wrappers of the desk. Then he saw a blue metal case the size of a pack of cards. He flicked the chip packet off it and picked it up. “Is this it?” said Cad, highly doubtful that the anonymous-looking object could achieve what he required of it.
“That’s it, alright,” chirped Falken, who had now also slipped off her remaining shoe and was sitting cross-legged on the chair. “You’ll need to interface it with a computer, but it will do the job. It’s military grade. I had to call in quite a few favors to get one.”
Cad’s eyes flicked from the device to the young woman. “Costly favors, I’m guessing?”
Falken shrugged, then said, “I’ve given you a discount, on account of the data and all.”
“I don’t care about the cost, so long as it works,” Cad grunted in reply, handing the device to Alexis, who had now moved alongside him.
Alexis inspected the little blue box for a moment then removed a small palm computer from her back pocket. “How long will this device need to override a bot’s command protocols?” said Alexis, her eyes scrutinizing the information on the palm computer’s screen.
“Depends on the bot,” replied Falken, shrugging again. “If you’re talking something like a cleaner bot, then only seconds, whereas something like a Theta-class warbot might take a couple of minutes. During which time you’d probably be dead, of course.”
Cad folded his arms and scowled at Falken. “Fought many Theta-class warbots, have you?” he said scornfully.
Falken seemed to take the hint. “Erm, well, no. But you know what I mean.”
“And what about something top-of-the-line, custom coded for maximum personal protection?” asked Alexis while still working on the device. A cleaner bot scurried over as she was talking and stopped at the edge of the mezzanine. Falken frowned at it, and ordered it back to work, but the bot refused to comply. Alexis then whistled, as if trying to attract the attention of a dog, and the cleaner bot kamikaze-dove off the ledge, smashing into pieces on the level below a couple of seconds later.
“Aw, come on, do you know how hard those things are to put back together?” complained Falken, springing out of her chair to peer over the balcony railings at her now defunct cleaner bot.
“Whoops,” said Alexis with a wicked smirk.
“How long for something top-of-the line,” Cad said, rolling his eyes at Alexis, who just continued smirking.
“You mean like something that might protect a planetary governor, or maybe someone like Damien Doyle?” asked Falken, returning to her high-backed chair.
“Exactly like that,” replied Cad, his tone level. He didn’t want Falken to know his plan, though he suspected she would later try to find out.
Falken scrunched up her nose and pressed one of her eyes tight shut, which seemed to indicate that some
level of deep thought process was occurring. “Well, assuming anyone was crazy enough to put a warbot in that position, I’d say maybe three to five minutes tops,” Falken eventually answered, spinning her bare feet back up onto the chair and scrutinizing the files again. “The only way it might take longer is if I’d coded the security protocol myself,” she added absent-mindedly. “But that sort of work is, well, too much like actual work.”
Cad glanced across to Alexis and she looked up from the screen and smiled. “This will do the trick,” she said, slipping both devices into her back pocket. Cad nodded and both of them turned to leave, but unexpectedly, Falken called out to them.
“Hey, these gravitational anomalies,” Falken said, pointing at the holo display, which was now showing fragments of the rogue world heading toward the aurora-like strip of energy. “Dr. Rand can stop them, right? I mean, that’s what she’s out there doing, right? Trying to stop the Consortium so that this doesn’t happen to the other planets?”
The fearfulness had returned to Falken’s voice, and Cad could sense the hacker’s need for reassurance. The need to be given hope and to be told that everything was going to be fine. However, the truth was that Cad knew everything wasn’t going to be fine. Even if Rand succeeded, the bridge worlds would quickly become cut off from one another, eventually plunging them all into lawless anarchy. It would be a slow and agonizing death for most people. The sort of deaths he planned for Hallam Knight and Dakota Wulfrun. And if Rand failed, then everyone would die anyway, just sooner. In Cad’s eyes, the only difference between the outcomes was the length of time the bridge worlds spent on death row.
“If I were you, I’d stock up your little bunker with something more sustaining than sodas and potato chips,” said Cad, meeting Falken’s anxious eyes. “Because the Armageddon that your whacko friends on the dark BridgeNet prophesized was coming is already on its way.”