by Gary Gibson
If we can’t get the life-support back online, we’re in deep shit, Ted. This is starting to look like—
Dakota pulled herself over to the door of her cabin and pressed her palm against its access panel. Nothing happened. She slammed the flat of her hand against it, then remembered there was a manual override accessible through a side panel.
She pulled it open and tugged at the lever behind it. Something clicked loudly and the door slid partway open to reveal a sliver of red-lit passageway beyond. Dakota prised at the open edge of the door with the fingers of both hands until it finally slid all the way open with a protesting whine.
She headed straight for the bridge. The quickest way there was to board a car at the nearest transport hub, about a minute’s walk away, but they all proved to be out of action as well. Dakota peered in through the window of one car and saw red failure lights blinking spasmodically on its dashboard. She turned back and made her way to a corridor that led directly towards the hub.
Once it was clear that the Mjollnir had suffered a sudden catastrophic systems failure, there was a part of Corso that was not surprised, and his first thought was of Trader.
Ever since Dakota had brought the Shoal-member on board, Corso had made sure that a discreet but constant eye was kept on his yacht. Although the frigate’s internal surveillance system had been directed to survey the main hold at all times, Corso wasn’t taking any chances. Both Willis and Schiller made frequent trips to the bay to check on Trader’s ship in person. Corso couldn’t say exactly what he was hoping they might find, but he wanted to send the alien a message that he was under constant surveillance.
He shut the alarm off, and the silence that followed fell across the bridge like a heavy, smothering blanket. He next used a console to project a highly detailed schematic of the Mjollnir overhead. Red dots blinked on and off up and down its length, identifying the depressingly numerous systems failures.
A groggy-looking Martinez entered the bridge, pulling a jacket on. ‘What the hell just happened?’ he demanded, striding over to join him.
‘Take a look for yourself Corso waved towards the console.
Martinez leaned over its glassy surface and quickly scanned the data Corso had just pulled up. His eyes widened, and then he glanced upwards at the schematic floating above their heads.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ Martinez muttered, then peered over at the recently vacated interface chair.
‘You’re wondering if a machine-head could pull something like this off?’ suggested Corso.
‘Could they?’
‘You told me yourself that the new security measures make it just about impossible for anyone with implants to take covert control without being directly plugged into the interface chair. And if either Ted or Dakota was responsible, the other would know.’
‘That’s the idea,’ Martinez agreed. ‘But the system’s never really been tested properly, and I wasn’t around when they carried out the most recent modifications. Do we have any idea where either Merrick or Lamoureaux are?’
Corso sighed. ‘Right now I couldn’t tell you where anybody is, Commander.’
‘You do realize they’re the first and most obvious suspects, regardless?’
Corso nodded irritably. ‘Don’t forget how hard we’ve been pushing the Mjollnir. We don’t know what problems that might have caused. First that expedition to find the Mos Hadroch . . . then off again not much more than a week later. We’re making longer, more frequent jumps than any human-built ship has ever performed before. We’re having to carry out almost constant maintenance as it is.’
‘No,’ Martinez snapped. ‘This is deliberate sabotage.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘For God’s sake, Lucas.’ The Commander nodded towards the overhead schematic. ‘Each and every subsystem has been targeted separately. Something like that takes conscious effort. Did you check the surveillance records yet?’
Corso opened his mouth and paused momentarily. ‘No, not yet.’
Martinez leaned over the console, and Corso watched as he pulled up screeds of data, muttering while he worked.
‘Take a look at this,’ he said, moving to one side. Corso glanced at the data and saw that it was a series of logs.
‘The past twelve hours of visual records,’ explained Martinez. ‘All of them wiped. You need high-level access to be able to pull off a trick like that – the kind of access only an interface chair gives you.’
Corso stared at the data. ‘Before you start pointing fingers at the team, remember our passenger in the hold. Besides, the Mos Hadroch might have triggered some glitches early on as well.’
Martinez frowned. ‘Trader’s stuck inside his own ship. He surely can’t pull off a trick like this from inside there, can he?’
‘I don’t know,’ Corso replied. ‘But then, I don’t know if Ted or Dakota could have pulled this off either.’
Just then, Lamoureaux came on to the bridge, looking distinctly out of breath. ‘I came straight back here as soon as I heard the alarm. What’s happened?’
Corso ignored the look on Martinez’s face as he turned to face the machine-head. ‘We don’t know yet,’ he told Lamoureaux. ‘I was hoping you might know something.’
Lamoureaux shook his head. ‘Most of the data-space is down. Dakota would tell you just the same.’
‘Where is she?’ asked Martinez.
‘She’s on her way here.’
‘Just to be clear about it, even with the ship’s networks down, you can still talk to each other?’
‘Sure.’ Lamoureaux nodded. ‘Machine-head hardware creates its own spontaneous networks, as long as you’re reasonably close to each other.’
‘Could you get in touch with any of the others by using your implants?’ asked Corso.
Lamoureaux thought for a moment. ‘Like use them to reroute some of the low-level comms? Yeah, maybe. The primary systems are down, but secondary and back-up seem to be rebooting spontaneously.’
‘Go to it,’ said Corso.
Lamoureaux headed back to the interface chair.
‘All right,’ said Martinez, just as Schiller and Perez entered the bridge, ‘here’s what we’re going to do. We’ve got no idea if this is hostile action, but until we know otherwise we have to assume it is. We need to find out where everyone is and start piecing together how all this happened.’
‘And if we can’t find them?’
‘Then we go looking,’ Martinez replied.
Dakota reached the hub twenty minutes after the alarm had shut off and found Nancy Schiller and Dan Perez already waiting there. Both were armed with pulse-rifles.
‘That leaves just Driscoll and Olivarri,’ Schiller observed to Perez, as Dakota approached.
‘Any idea what’s going on?’ asked Dakota, grabbing a wall rung.
‘We’re assuming it’s sabotage until we know otherwise,’ said Perez. ‘We’re just keeping an eye out.’
‘What for?’
‘Can’t rule out a third party,’ Schiller growled, patting her rifle. ‘Lots of places on board for a saboteur to hide in. That means we’ve got to be ready for any surprises.’
‘But no word from Driscoll or Olivarri?’
Perez shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
‘Look, you’re forgetting about Trader. I’ll go back down to the stern and check he’s still where he should be.’ She started to head back the way she had come.
‘No,’ said Schiller, raising her rifle towards Dakota. ‘You stay right here where we can see you.’
‘Okay,’ said Dakota, turning back slowly. ‘If that’s what you want.’
Perez put one hand on the barrel of Schiller’s rifle and pushed it back down. ‘Nancy, let
’s first work out what happened before jumping to any conclusions, okay?’
Schiller’s mouth worked like she wanted to say something in response, but then she relented, lowering her rifle and muttering something foul under her breath.
‘Look, right now we’re just trying to figure out where everyone is,’ Perez explained. ‘Most comms are still down, so we’ve been sitting tight and waiting to see who makes it back here, assuming they’ve got the sense to head for the bridge. If Olivarri and Driscoll don’t show, we’re going to go looking for them.’
‘In that case,’ said Dakota, ‘you’re going to want to break out the spider-mechs, especially if you think there might be saboteurs on board. They’re independent of the Mjollnir’s control systems, so they probably won’t have been affected by whatever’s happened. Plus, they can move around the ship and report back a lot faster than any of us can. In fact, I could run a couple of dozen of them at once single-handed. That’d free you up to—’
‘Goddammit, no,’ snarled Schiller, clearly working up a temper. ‘How do we know she’s not the one who did all this?’ she said, gesturing towards Dakota. ‘Maybe if we lock up her and Lamoureaux, we won’t have to worry about either of them sabotaging anything else until we have some idea just what the fuck is going on.’
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Dakota snapped, now losing her own temper. ‘I’m sick and tired of you thinking everyone with an implant is some kind of devil out to—’
‘Stop it, both of you!’ Perez yelled. ‘Keep this crap up and we won’t even deserve to survive what’s up ahead. We either work together or we give up now. Standing around pointing fingers solves nothing.’ He looked at Dakota. ‘It’s a good idea, Miss Merrick – but I’m coming with you.’
Ty panicked when at first he couldn’t raise anyone over the comms system, then nearly convinced himself he was trapped there in the lab as the doors failed to respond. But he soon located the emergency overrides and made his way out into the passageway beyond.
When the alarm finally shut off, his ears still rang in the sudden silence. He pushed himself cautiously along through the ship, unnerved by the eerie red emergency lighting, which made the frigate seem somehow unfamiliar and threatening.
He worked his way onwards until he reached a hydroponics deck filled with lush scents, the air warm and humid. There was also a transport station there, but when he tried one of the waiting cars it didn’t respond.
He was going to have to get himself to the bridge the hard way.
Ty retraced his steps, pushing himself along a wide passageway until he found his path blocked by an enormous pressure door that must have slid into place when the alarm went off. He stared at it, dismayed, wondering if the ship had lost atmosphere in some areas. He tried the overrides, but this time they didn’t work.
He doubled back and tried another route. Once again, he found his way barred, but this time the overrides did work.
He passed through three more such doors on his journey towards the centrifuge, before he sighted several bright points of light moving towards him from up ahead. He waited until they drew closer, finally resolving into half-a-dozen spider-mechs propelling themselves forward on gentle puffs of gas.
‘Hey! Driscoll! Is that you?’
Ty recognized Dan Perez coming along the passageway a short distance behind the spiders, accompanied by Dakota Merrick. Ty moved to one side to let the spiders pass. Two of them cut off down a side passage, while the rest kept on in the same direction, heading back towards the hydroponics deck.
‘Where were you when the alert sounded?’ asked Dakota, as she and Perez drew abreast of him.
‘In the labs,’ Ty replied. ‘I had trouble getting out.’
‘And the Mos Hadroch? It’s still where it should be?’
The question surprised Ty. For some reason, the possibility that it might be in danger had simply never occurred to him. ‘It’s fine,’ he replied. ‘But who would want to take it?’
Dakota got a strange look on her face. ‘One of us should go back and stay there, keep an eye on things.’
‘Then, in that case, I might as well go back myself,’ said Ty.
Perez nodded. ‘Yeah, good idea. We just needed to make sure everyone was all right while the comms are down. The others are up on the bridge trying to figure out what happened. I’ll send a couple of spiders with you as well, just in case.’
‘Just in case what?’
‘We can keep an eye on you through the spider’s sensory systems,’ Perez explained. ‘Until we have a better idea what’s going on.’
‘I guess I don’t have a problem with that,’ Ty replied.
‘One other thing,’ said Dakota. ‘We haven’t heard or seen from Olivarri yet. Have you?’
Ty shook his head. ‘No, not. . .’ Not since he approached me to tell me he was spying on all of us. ‘Not since our last shift together, no.’
Perez glanced at Dakota. ‘I guess we keep on looking then.’
‘Yeah. Listen, Nathan. Since we can stay in touch through the spiders, if you see or hear anything, let us know straight away. Especially if you see Olivarri.’
A couple of hours later Dakota hauled herself back up to the bridge and collapsed on to a couch. Corso and Martinez stepped over to join her, while Willis worked away in the background at mapping the areas of the frigate that had already been checked out.
‘I’ve had time to think about this now,’ she told them. ‘There are about a dozen key vulnerabilities at different points on the ship, based on what I’ve seen with my own eyes as well as via the spiders, and every one of them was hit individually.’
‘Ted said pretty much the same thing,’ said Corso, who had taken a seat next to a console and swivelled it around to face her. Martinez stood beside him, eyeing her like she was something you would grow in a Petri dish. His attitude towards Corso had clearly become somewhat strained ever since learning about Trader. ‘So it’s definitely sabotage?’
She nodded, and tried to blink away her fatigue. ‘I think someone spent a lot of time setting things up. The data-space has recovered enough that I managed to track down software routines in the primary stacks which I can’t even begin to explain. They might be viruses, or they might be something else. I’m guessing the former, but they’ve now been cleaned out or isolated.’
‘And that’s what caused the ship to shut down?’
Dakota shrugged. ‘That’s my guess.’
Martinez folded his arms and looked from one to the other. ‘But still no sign of Olivarri?’
‘Nope.’ Dakota shook her head. ‘The spiders are still out searching through the whole ship, but there’s just too much space to cover. It could take us weeks to investigate every nook and cranny.’
‘All right, what about Trader?’ asked Corso.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘disregarding just for the moment the fact neither of us trusts him in the least, I just don’t see any way he could have pulled this off
‘But it’s not like there isn’t precedent,’ Corso insisted. ‘We know he’s lied in the past, and we both know how machine-heads like yourself are vulnerable to—’
Dakota sat up and glared at him. ‘Listen, I’m getting really sick of being treated like I’m some kind of bomb about to go off. Why don’t you—’
Something beeped loudly, cutting her off mid-sentence.
‘That’s Dan on the emergency frequency,’ said Willis, stepping over to an adjacent console. ‘I’ll put him through the overhead.’
Dan Perez’s face appeared on a screen next to the couch. Nancy Schiller was visible just behind him, floating in a stretch of red-lit passageway.
‘It’s Olivarri.’ Perez sounded out of breath. ‘We just found him, down near one of the fusion-maintenance bays. He’s dead.’
Chapter Twenty-five
By the time Corso and Martinez reached the maintenance bay, Perez had found some opaque plastic sheeting to cover Olivarri’s body. Schiller had mea
nwhile headed back to the bridge.
Corso winced when Perez pulled the sheet back from Olivarri’s head and upper torso, because the back of his head had been caved in. Dried blood had crusted around his mouth, and his nose was crushed flat against his skull.
He was barely recognizable, Corso thought.
Martinez leaned in close to the body and looked up at Perez. ‘Where exactly did you find him?’
‘Over there.’ Perez nodded towards where a large steel panel had swung away from the wall. ‘Whoever did this wedged him behind that maintenance panel, but it then set off an alert on one of the control boards. I got the shock of my fucking life when I pulled the door open to check it out.’
‘Question is,’ said Corso, ‘why hide him here? Why not just drag him to an airlock and push his body outside the ship? That way we’d never have known what happened to him.’
Martinez shook his head. ‘Too much chance of getting picked up by the hull’s sensor arrays. They run on their own power and control systems, so whoever did this presumably knew they’d be spotted if they tried to do so. To be honest, we’re lucky we found him at all. This ship is big enough that, apart from an alert being triggered, it might have taken a long time before we eventually found him.’
Perez looked up from Olivarri’s pulped features. ‘Look, this is pure speculation, but is it possible all this – the sabotage, the systems failures – was intended just to cover this up?’
The three men exchanged looks. ‘The same thought did cross my mind,’ said Corso. ‘We’ve already got most of the primary systems back online. At first we thought we were looking at a catastrophic system failure, but in the end it proved to be not much more than an inconvenience.’
‘A distraction, in other words?’ said Martinez.
Corso stared down again at the dead man and felt a flash of resentment, as if this new crisis were somehow the victim’s fault. It was hard to connect this crumpled ruin with the living, breathing human being Olivarri had been.