The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2)

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The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2) Page 20

by Martin Wilsey


  “I will walk in, unarmed. It will take a few days, but Ann and Pyke have already followed this road,” Ronan said.

  “Why not just fly all the way in?” Hume asked, frustration creeping into her voice.

  “You cannot just approach this place, unannounced,” Ann said. “Ulric only has a few servants, but they are fierce and cunning. One of them, alone, killed the biggest Telis Raptor I have ever heard tale of. Grady could have killed us in our sleep. Us.” Ann pointed at Pyke and herself. Ronan must have known the weight of that statement.

  “But, most of all, beware of the gatesman. He is more than he seems,” Pyke added.

  “This spider has been seen before,” Ronan said, “It destroyed a shuttle. Tore it right from the sky. I don't want to risk your Hammerhead.” Ronan was sincere. “These demons have been seen in dozens of burning villages. They leave death and destruction in their wake. The High Keeper is quite annoyed.”

  “Who is this Ulric?” Hume asked.

  “Ulric is the Keeper at Whitehall Abbey,” Ann said. “He is in his mid forties or fifties, but the years seem to rest heavy on him. He has the typical look of a Keeper that drinks much and sleeps too little. But, he is troubled.”

  “I don't really know Keeper Ulric. He is one of the lesser Keepers,” Ronan said. “But, I need to speak to Grady Tolwood, the tracker that is with him. He has a tracker wife named Wex. I just talked to her in the Citadel. I owe her a favor, and I believe I have found a way for her to collect. But, only if I can find Grady for her.”

  “When do we leave?” Hume asked.

  Ronan looked at May when he replied. “In two hours.”

  She nodded and looked at the hands in her lap.

  Burke spoke then, “My Lord. I will go. You can stay here. I will find this Grady for you.”

  Hume began to understand Burke. She didn't envy him.

  “Not this time, Burke. Plus, I can use the exercise.”

  ***

  They were packed and ready in two hours.

  “Here, take this.” Ronan handed Hume an old-style data pad. “I will alert you when you can come in.”

  Hume took the device and rapidly drilled down into the menus and settings, examining the protocols and network settings in use. Inside her personal HUD, she was, basically, following the same paths.

  Finally, she found the section she was looking for on the data pad. She replicated the settings in her personal HUD and a window popped up inside her vision.

  “New Network Detected, Access Requested” followed by the prompt, “Confirm or Deny.”

  Out loud, she said, “Confirm.”

  She quickly explored the primitive network in search of the communications directory. She had a lot of training to do exactly this type of work, but had little need for that training, until now.

  She handed the plate back to Ronan. “Keep it. Use this channel.”

  Ronan's plate chimed, repeatedly. He answered it. There was a new address icon called ‘Hume’.

  “Comms check. Testing one, two, three.” The voice echoed slightly, from the satellite lag.

  Ronan looked at her, amazed. “Ready?” she asked, as Ronan handed the unnecessary plate to Burke.

  ***

  Ronan climbed in and buckled his own five-point harness. He had both packs stowed in his foot well, but he didn't seem to mind. Hume could see him via her headrest cam. He was grinning, ear to ear.

  Hume closed the canopy and activated the grav-foils. As they ascended, she felt the familiar vertigo of being inverted and falling up. Her inner ear had become used to the sensation as her weight fell against the harness. She saw in the passenger camera that Ronan placed his hand up onto the canopy as a reflex. He was still smiling, ear to ear.

  “What if you rolled 180°? Could we still ascend?” he asked.

  Hume was impressed. Some pilots did exactly that all the time. They were already up 400 meters, so by way of an answer, Hume did exactly that; but, instead of a roll, she did a summersault in the Hammerhead. End-over-end.

  The canopy now faced the ground as they fell upward. They still had the feeling of falling, but it was toward their seats now. It had the advantage of allowing a spectacular view of the East Isle as they reached 2,000 meters.

  She paused for a few minutes, just to enjoy the view, then activated the turbines. At full thrust, she finally did execute a few barrel rolls, widening Ronan's smile even farther.

  Airspeed was set to 500 kph and leveled. It was cool and calm, and there was only the quiet hum of the turbines. Even the rapid rushing of the wind was insulated in there.

  Ronan detailed his entire plan to her. They agreed on a series of communications security codes, so he could convey various situations. He was a quick study. He soon had about twenty basic codes memorized.

  “Ronan, can I ask you something that might piss you off?” Hume asked, watching him.

  He smiled again, everything seemed to amuse him on this trip. “By all means.”

  “What the hell is with this ass-backward planet? You have access to technology, but don't use it. You, yourself, don't even support the typical culture on this planet. Slaves? Really? And, I hear other places on this world are so backward they don't ALLOW people to learn to read. Explain. Oh, and don’t forget the automated defense orbital platforms?”

  She knew she might have crossed a line, as she watched him. His smile faded.

  “Let me begin by saying how sorry I am for what has happened to you. To your ship. If I could control the defense network, I would. It's in the hands of the High Keeper. Well, he was…in control.”

  He looked ashamed. Unguarded. He had no idea Hume watched his reactions.

  “What does that mean?” Hume tried to moderate her tone.

  “The High Keeper is losing control. Of everything.” Ronan looked like he needed to talk about this. “All the systems are slowly failing. Six of the original eleven data centers have died, or have been used to keep the others running. Decades ago, in a fit of anger, the High Keeper threw the only tech that knew the access codes for the defense platforms off a balcony at the Citadel. We are now unable to control them.

  “The initial ‘back to nature for a simpler life’ movement somehow went horribly wrong. It focused on the collective, not the individual. The movement turned into a religion, one that slowly created disdain for technology, or even simple innovation. People's rights, or their worth as individuals, no longer mattered. Making people afraid was the tool of choice. It was easy when they had already surrendered the idea of self-defense. Later, fear of eternal, immortal damnation became a far better tool.”

  There was sadness in his voice. “Yet, those in power reserved those things for themselves.”

  He looked at the back of her head almost like he knew there was a camera there to speak to. “How old are you, Hume? In standard Earth years?”

  She didn't know if she should tell him. She did anyway. “I am fifty-nine-years-old.” She looked like she was twenty-five or thirty.

  “Is the longevity serum available to everyone on Earth?” he asked.

  “It's available everywhere, for those that want it,” she said.

  “What is a typical lifespan on Earth?” he asked.

  “If you had your stem cells harvested before puberty for use in the initial treatment, and you get your annual boosters, most people live about 300 years. Barring accident, or war, or unmanned automated defense systems.” Hume tried to make a joke. But, it did not amuse Ronan.

  “The High Keeper controls the serum, here. He uses it as leverage,” Ronan confessed.

  A thought dawned on Hume. “Are you one of the original colonists on this planet?”

  “No, but my parents were. They were scientists. They specialized in the ocean sciences.” Ronan now looked out the side, down at the clouds reflected in the water.

  “The High Keeper is the last of the original colonists. His actual name is Atish. But, he would kill you, if you said it to him. I believe he has slowly
slid into insanity. He hasn't even left the Citadel for over twenty years.”

  “Who is Wex?” Hume asked, women usually were ignored here.

  “I wish I knew how to answer that.” Ronan fell silent, staring at the sea. “I think she is like you.”

  ***

  Worthington listened to Kuss. She went on for far too long about the tech specs of the comms array she managed to salvage from the destroyed shuttle. “So, all of this means what?”

  “We can go to surface, take Hammerhead with, and still access sensor array with line of sight.” She seemed very excited about this prospect.

  “I will go to sensors tomorrow with Ibenez on sled. Set up new directional laser antenna. Come back with Hammerhead AND sled. Then, we can take sled to surface, too. All wins.” She smiled.

  “Okay. Do it.”

  Worthington was decisive. There were no reasons not to be. It would still be several days before they were ready; and even then, they should wait for the right entry window to minimize the chance of being observed. Beary had plotted the track and it should be less than two hours from takeoff here to Rand’s hangar.

  “Captain. Hume would like to speak to you. She has audio, video and data on this connection.”

  “Pipe it through.” Kuss was already walking away. Jim walked out into the hangar.

  “Hume. Go,” he said.

  The image of Hume showed her standing on a flat, rocky outcropping, above the treetops of a dense forest below. Her helmet must have been sitting on the Hammerhead, pointed at her.

  “Good morning, sir. A lot has happened since I first got down here. Instead of trying to tell you everything, I wrote a detailed report. Make sure Tyrrell reads it. I have been granted access to one of the planetary communications networks. Connection information and protocols are included in the report. We may be able to communicate via that network, if point-to-point does not have line of sight. It's Ronan's private network. It is segregated from the main grid, so it will have its limits.” She took a breath.

  “I think I have located the other Emergency Module. You may not like what I have heard, sir,” she said.

  “Go ahead,” Worthington encouraged her.

  “Apparently, it's killing people. Lots of people. Ronan provided me with navigation maps. Just scanning the surface on the way here, I passed over dozens of destroyed towns and villages. Sir, an EM could wreak havoc here and could be unstoppable in the face of these primitive weapons. If the driver has lost it...” She let the statement hang there.

  “I trust you to handle things how you see fit. I do NOT want another Bowen on my hands. Is that clear?”

  Worthington knew what he was saying. So did Hume.

  “Rescue survivors, if possible. Salvage the equipment, if you can't. Do not buy me any more problems,” Worthington said, flatly.

  “Sir, how much longevity serum does the Memphis stores hold?” she asked.

  Jim wondered about the change in topic.

  “Honestly, I have no idea. Several thousand doses, I should think. I can have Dr. Shaw find out.”

  Worthington was thinking now. What if they were stranded forever?

  “You may want to secure the supply, sir. I didn't include this consideration in my report,” Hume said.

  Jimbo was glad he was alone, on a private channel.

  “You don't think Bowen already...” Worthington moved toward the Memphis.

  “Oh shit,” Hume said. “You don't really think that bitch would have thought that far ahead.”

  Jim jogged into the heavier gravity, and slowed his pace as he moved to the infirmary. He entered, without knocking. Dr. Shaw looked up. She was securing everything, in prep for the flight.

  “Hello, Jimbo. What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “I am currently talking to Hume. At least she is thinking like a security chief. Will you check our supply of longevity serum?” He quickly added, “Please.”

  “Certainly,” was her simple reply, as she went straight to a little used, out-of-the-way cabinet built into the back wall.

  The look on Dr. Shaw's face told Worthington all he needed to know.

  “Hume, it's gone. All of it.”

  Shaw's nodding confirmed it.

  “That bitch,” Hume cursed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Found

  “Barcus would have easily killed all of those murdering bastards, if we had not found him.”

  --Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Captain James Worthington, senior surviving member of the Ventura's command crew.

  <<<>>>

  “Rand. It's Hume, come in.” Hume flew low over Salterkirk, on grav-foils only.

  “Rand here. Go, Hume,” Rand responded, audio only.

  “I just wanted to give you an update, Rand. I’m not going to land. A burst transmission of reports and data is headed your way, now. It will include a set of updated maps, network access credentials, background information and what's going on with the moon team. They are going to be coming down sometime in the next two weeks.”

  “Acknowledged,” Rand replied.

  “Everything okay in Salterkirk?” Hume asked.

  “I've been exploring. This place is huge. The actual mines are massive. Lots of potential,” Rand replied. “I have a Fly that can do autonomous mapping in the dark. It's an incredible place,” Rand said, “Wait one second, I will forward the survey.”

  “Got it. Thanks,” Hume confirmed. “Got to jet, Rand. I'll be back soon.”

  “Be careful, Hume. Remember, this is a hostile environment,” she said. “Rand, out.”

  “Acknowledged. Hume, out.” Hume ascended to cruising altitude.

  ***

  Hume geo-tagged the unfinished tunnel where she was holding up during the days. On the way back from Salterkirk, she fired up her passive scanners and night vision. She shut the turbines down, running silently when she got closer. The unfinished tunnel was just north of the gorge, above a bridge, according to her map.

  She dropped below the rim of the canyon and cruised as fast as she could. It was a thrill, and she knew Worthington would be pissed off, if he knew she was taking that risk. She was flying at about 100 kph when she rounded a bend and saw the destroyed bridge. She pulled up, hard, backwashed to a full stop, and hovered, before she reached the burned ruins.

  Hume said, out loud, “Sometimes a burning bridge gives the best light...” remembering a poem or a lyric.

  She drifted up, between the towers, and followed the road until it terminated at the unfinished tunnel. She flew directly into the tunnel and all the way to the unfinished wall. There were signs of habitation in there. But, not recent signs.

  She flew out and back on the exact same line, over the mountains and trees. She found the mouth on the other side. After doing the same survey of the tunnel, she set down just inside the opening. It would be the dawn of another day soon.

  Ronan planned to reach the ruins today.

  She sat down and sharpened her knives.

  ***

  Hume slept for six hours in the pilot seat of the Hammerhead, with the canopy closed and her helmet on. She had been trained to sleep light and instantly come awake, if required. She had been awake all day and was now worried. Ronan was an hour overdue.

  She decided to check in with the Memphis while she waited. She quietly flew to the flat, rocky spot, deployed the directional laser antenna and hailed the Memphis.

  “Wake up, slackers,” was her hail today.

  “Greetings, Hume. Memphis here. Tell us some good news,” Cook replied.

  She instantly read the subtext of Cook's response. It was not going well up there. “Where's Tyrrell? I expected him to be here.”

  “Do you still memorize the roster and schedules, even when you’re down there?” Cook asked.

  Hume knew he was alone on the bridge by his casual manner on the comms.

  “Old habit. Where’s everyone?” she asked.

  “Right now, they�
��re searching the base with a fine-tooth comb. We were just about ready to go, when Bowen fucked us from beyond the grave. Jimbo figures she was going to either use the longevity serum as leverage or save it for herself. My money is on the latter. She thought she was so fucking smart she'd never get caught,” Cook hissed.

  “Holy shit. You must be pissed to be cursing that much.” She laughed.

  “This is not funny, Hume. Even if we make it to the surface, we’re all dead soon,” Cook said.

  Hume thought it out for a second. She had made peace with death, long ago. She didn't expect to die of old age, at 300, warm in a bed, somewhere.

  “Cook, I've been thinking. Bowen probably didn't kill Hamilton over some extra rations. But this? Make sure they search Hamilton's quarters and anywhere she may have been.”

  “Will do,” Cook replied. She heard him typing. He was messaging them, now.

  “What's your status, Hume?” Cook requested. Jimbo probably asked over text.

  “I’m currently on hold. Ronan is about an hour overdue.” It was then that Hume noticed a high altitude vapor trail that was still in the sunshine as the sun set. “Something may be up. If he doesn't check-in in two hours, I’m going to look for him, after it gets dark.”

  “We will have line of sight for about four more hours,” Cook said. “After that, Kuss will replace the point-to-point antenna with one she salvaged from the shuttle. We will be able to bring the other Hammerhead down and still have access to the sensors here and P2P comms. We will need to test it, at moonrise.”

  “Acknowledged. Good luck, Cook. Tell Jimbo to think like Bowen, if he can stand it. Hume, out,” Hume said.

  “Memphis, out.” Cook disconnected.

  ***

  Hume stayed on the top of the rocks as she watched the sun set. She was emptying her mind and listening to the chatter of birds. This planet was so quiet. That was when she heard it.

  There were distant echoes from gunshots. Heavy caliber. They thumped, like a 10mm caliber cannon. Then, she heard another, and another. She could now tell the direction—toward the ruins that were Ronan's destination.

 

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