Echo Rift

by G. S. Jennsen

  The Elder breathed in deeply. “Our sun’s corona, you say?”

  “For the nanosecond it lasted there before being atomized by the 6,000 K temperature and relentless nuclear reactions.”

  He jerked the launcher back up onto his shoulder, aimed and fired again. The second Rasu cruiser vanished in a burst of radiant light. When it was gone, he handed the launcher back to her. “How many do you have?”

  She tried to keep her smile polite and respectful, but her skin flushed from a deluge of relief. “2,240 Rima Grenades, with thirty additional ones being completed every hour, as well as forty launchers. Tell me where to send them and authorize us to open wormholes at those locations, and your soldiers can be wielding the launchers inside ten minutes.”

  MIRAI

  DAF Military Services Center

  “Two hundred Rima Grenades plus three launchers.” Dashiel made a circling motion with one arm. “Get them loaded onto the trolley and through the wormhole—go!”

  The two DAF officers stacked the deadly little grenades onto the rack as fast as the warehouse dynes delivered them. The orbs were inert until activated by the launching mechanism, which was a good thing, as they didn’t have time to observe much in the way of safety measures. One officer tossed the launchers one by one to the other, who hooked them onto the sides of the rack then guided the trolley through the dynamically generated d-gate.

  No time to rest. “As soon as he returns with the trolley, we’ve got a new destination southeast of the capital city. Let’s get everything queued up.” Everyone scrambled in response, almost as if Dashiel were a military officer legitimately authorized to order them around, which he was not.

  The officer reemerged with the empty trolley a minute later, and the staff loaded up a new rack while the Sukasu Gate located at Military Services was reconfigured for the next destination.

  Dashiel considered the rows upon rows of shelves that had been converted into Rima Grenade storage. Their supply was already running low. It appeared that once convinced, the Elder was all in. Good, as nothing less would rid the Toki’taku surface of Rasu and keep them gone.

  The newly full trolley again vanished through the Sukasu Gate, and he checked the updating list of instructions. “Interesting. The Alcazar is asking for a resupply of two dozen Rima Grenades. They’ve got a launcher.” He glanced around the open area at the front of the warehouse. “Let’s box them up and carry them through by hand.”

  He started queuing up the next several deliveries—only four remained for now—while the Sukasu Gate was reconfigured yet again. The machine was a scandalous power hog, but it was a most useful one nonetheless.

  One of the officers carried the box of Rima Grenades through the d-gate to the Alcazar, then returned thirty seconds later without the box but with a companion.

  “Nika!” She’d barely cleared the d-gate when he swept her up into his arms and spun her around. “You did it.”

  She sighed into his neck. “I did. And none too soon. Rasu cruisers were advancing on the Alcazar, burning the forest as they moved.”

  “And now?”

  She kissed the corner of his mouth before stepping out of his embrace. “The Elder himself took great pleasure in dispatching those Rasu cruisers, then decided he wanted a small stash of the Rima Grenades in case more show up.”

  “Understandable.” He smiled wearily. She looked as exhausted as he felt, but the adrenaline surge from making a godsdamned difference in this war fueled them both onward.

  “How goes the main battle?”

  “I can’t say. I’ve been consumed with getting these weapons where they needed to be.”

  “And I adore you for it.” Her gaze drifted toward the door. “I think I’ll run next door and peek over Colonel Rogers’ shoulder to see if I can get a feel for the situation. Want to come with me?”

  He peered behind him, where the trolley was being stacked anew with a full loadout, then shook his head. The staff here could assuredly manage the remaining orders now that the process had been perfected, but he didn’t dare risk stepping away at this crucial juncture. “I owe the Taiyoks four more deliveries first. I’ll catch up with you.”

  57

  * * *

  CONCORD HQ

  “The last official record of the cargo container shows it being scanned through this location.”

  While Richard waited for the Security officer to check his panel, David took in the lengthy warehouse stretching into the distance behind the man. An antimatter bomb, here. A death sentence for thousands of people and fourteen years of hard work was hiding somewhere in the deep labyrinths of the station. His blood rushed with anticipation of the chase, but dread at what would happen if they didn’t find it in time darkened his thoughts. He’d never imagined the pitched throes of combat against the Rasu would be the safer location, but he found himself glad that Miri was currently galaxies away.

  Richard instantiated an aural and spun it toward the officer. “Do you remember this Barisan accompanying the container into storage? He’d have been here within the last hour.”

  The officer studied the vid. “I think I do recall checking him in.”

  “Was he acting strangely?”

  The officer shrugged. “No more strangely than most Barisans. Sorry, sir, but I don’t have their body language down yet. Our stocker was busy situating a shipment of industrial-grade photal fibers, so the Barisan offered to slot the container himself. I’m supposed to stay at this post, so I let him. Did I make a mistake?”

  Any CINT agent could tell you the signs of stress, panic or fear in the demeanor of every Concord Member and Allied species, but Security officers hadn’t yet received such in-depth training. David made a note to see to it that such training was added to the curriculum, though Richard was likely making the same note. “Ideally, you should have called another officer here to accompany him, but I’ll concede we might have a gap in the protocols. Do you remember when he checked back out?”

  “No, sir. Officer Sandal relieved me for my regular break, so I assume it happened while I was gone. But…” he frowned at his screen “…it doesn’t appear he ever returned to check out at all. Do I need to institute a Security alert, sir?”

  “That won’t be necessary. The warehouses are now closed due to the evacuation order, but I need you to stay at your station and keep an eye out for this individual. If he does return, please detain him and notify me immediately.”

  “You, personally? I mean…yes, sir, Director.”

  Richard motioned for David to follow him, and they plunged into the depths of the warehouse. Richard set a brisk pace as they wound through the endless shelves, refrigeration units and shielded rooms. His friend didn’t speak, and David recognized this was not the moment for lighthearted banter.

  He wanted to ask if Miri had been informed of the threat, but he refrained from doing that, too. She was waging a battle five megaparsecs away, and she trusted Richard to handle Concord affairs in her absence. So did he. He did, however, compose a brief message to her, sent it to a remote server on Earth, and queued it to be delivered in two hours in the event that he and Richard blew themselves up today.

  Having suffered through such a calamity recently himself, his heart seized up at the thought of leaving her alone for even a day. But at least this time, it wouldn’t be for a quarter-century.

  As the towering shelves and corridors began to blend together, David’s mind drifted to idle curiosity at what his regenesis would involve. He’d inhabited this body for more than fourteen years now, but it remained unique. Whenever he went in for his regular backup appointment, the techs at Medical insisted they were capturing a typical neural imprint from his brain function, one fully capable of supporting regenesis. But this would be regenesis into a standard human body, not the Anaden-human-synthetic hybrid one he currently inhabited. Would it feel different?

  “Here.” Richard skidded to a stop halfway down one of the endless rows, but his chin dropped to his chest. Th
e slot along the bottom row where the container should be located sat empty. “Dammit!”

  The tension ratcheted up, tightening its grip on David’s chest. But he’d been in these situations before. Sort of. “How do we find a rogue cargo container?”

  “Cliff, I need the closest Security footage to Grid 6 in Warehouse 3C.” Richard instantiated an aural so David could see the footage as well. The cam was situated some distance away, but it showed a Barisan pushing the dolly holding the container along this row. He stopped at the empty slot, peered furtively around, then hurriedly continued on, taking the next right and vanishing.

  Richard took off at a brisk jog down the aisle, and David hastened to catch up. Two turns later, they came to a maintenance door. A female Anaden in a Security uniform lay sprawled on the floor by the door, which was held ajar by a shock stick jammed into the opening.

  David dropped to his knees by the woman. An ugly gash on her forehead dribbled blood onto the floor, but she had a pulse. “She’s unconscious but still breathing. Steady pulse.”

  Richard nodded. “Cliff, I need an armed Security squad with a medical detachment at Maintenance Door 3C-6E. We’ve got a Security officer in need of urgent medical attention at this location.” Next he entered a code on the panel, and the door slid the rest of the way open. “Down we go.”

  Normally they’d never abandon an injured person, but the Security squad would reach her in less than five minutes, and the rest of the people on the station might not have five minutes. David climbed to his feet and followed Richard through the door, which led directly to a lift. As soon as they stepped foot on it, it began descending into the maintenance levels. Ten interminable seconds later, it slowed to a stop at a floor labeled ‘Maintenance 4.’ Hallways forked out in three directions.

  David rubbed at his jaw. “Any chance we’ve got Security footage from this area?”

  Richard held up a finger, and David waited. “The Barisan took the left hallway, but then he started spotting the cams and shooting them out.”

  David peered down the left hallway. “Can you pull up the floor plan for everything from here? Maintenance, engineering, power?”

  “All twenty-two square kilometers of it?”

  David shrugged.

  “Right. One second…here we go.” An aural appeared between them displaying a complex sketch of multiple interlocking levels.

  David pointed to a spot near the top left. “We’re here?”

  “Approximately.”

  “And our suspect went left, then we lost him.”

  “Correct.”

  He studied the schematic, his eyes running along several potential paths like he was trying to solve a maze puzzle.

  “David, we need to keep moving.”

  “Not until we know where we’re moving to.”

  “But we—”

  David glanced at Richard through the glow of the schematic aural. “How much antimatter would you say is in the bomb?”

  “Based on the Ghost footage? Two, maybe three kilograms.”

  “Enough to blow a giant hole through warehousing and maintenance, but this far from the outer hull, not enough to breach the exterior of the station—unless it detonates in proximity to Power Generation.”

  Richard considered the floor plan for half a second. “Shit. Let’s go.”

  They sprinted down winding hallways and vibrated through four lift descents. They passed only two Security officers during the journey, as regular maintenance staff had been ordered to evacuate. Their path led them through Engineering…David briefly considered stopping for a quick search there, because if placed at certain locations, a detonation in Engineering would have nearly as devastating of an effect on the station. But this Barisan was a merchant, not an experienced terrorist or an engineer, and the Savrakaths calling the shots didn’t know the details of HQ’s design. They’d go for the power center, because there would be a sure thing.

  Finally they reached the entrance to Power Generation. The wide blast doors were stuck in the open position and, as before, a guard lay prone on the floor beside them. This one was human, and he’d fared worse than the first guard. His throat had been sliced opened by multiple gashes.

  “Barisan claws.”

  David shook his head roughly, fighting back the bile rising in his throat. “Not a pleasant way to go.”

  Richard studied the panel controlling the doors. “Our suspect must have used the guard’s retina and ID scan to get the doors open.”

  They skirted the pool of blood surrounding the guard and stepped through the open blast doors onto the top gangway ringing the power station.

  David’s skin felt as if it had been set afire. Beyond a protective double force field, the first of five massive Zero Engines churned like a captured sun. Though the force fields dimmed the light enough to protect them from being blinded simply by walking in, he had to adjust his ocular implant to filter out much of the blazing inferno.

  He peered over the railing, but the fiery light obscured the details of the second Zero Engine situated far below, and he made out only hints of the three additional ones stacked all the way to the ‘bottom’ of the station.

  “Our guy might have figured this was good enough—which it surely must be. We should search the ring.”

  “You go left, I’ll go right.”

  David nodded and took off along the translucent gangway that arced around the towering Zero Engine.

  SAVRAK

  Site 2A

  Ghorek paced in agitation across the command tent. They should have stitched a cam to the Barisan in addition to the bomb and the transmitter. As it was, he felt blind.

  The Barisan’s raspy, heaving voice came over the comm. “Okay, I’ve reached the power generation section. Gods below, this engine is huge.”

  Ghorek tapped his comm. “Good, then it will serve our purpose. Can you take the container any deeper into the room?”

  “Room? This isn’t a room—it’s an entire bloody station all its own. And no. I’m on a circular gangway, and…I see a ladder farther around to the right that leads to a lower-level gangway, but I can’t maneuver the container down a ladder. Please, sir. This is all I can do.”

  The location transmitter indicated the Barisan had proceeded into the interior of Concord HQ, but they lacked a more detailed map upon which to pin the alien’s location with any greater accuracy. Curses that Ghorek hadn’t been able to send one of his own men on the mission, but any Savrakath would have been shot on sight.

  This had to be good enough. “I’m activating the timer on the container now. It’s set to go off in twenty minutes, so if you hurry you can make it back to the ship and get off the station in time.” It was a lie, of course; the timer was set for five minutes, the ship was long gone, and the alien was never getting off the station.

  “Twenty minutes? It took me half an hour to get here—wait, I hear something. Someone’s coming.”

  Kankii! Ghorek lunged for the detonator linked to the device implanted inside the alien and slammed a claw down upon it.

  One problem disposed of. Now deaf as well as blind, he could only watch the countdown tied to the antimatter bomb.

  4:50

  4:49

  4:48

  CONCORD HQ

  Power Generation

  A shout followed by a muffled gurgling noise echoed off the smooth walls of Power Generation, and David spun and sprinted back the way he’d come, then kept going. He found Richard in one piece near a large circular container, thankfully, staring at a righteous mess of blood and gore. It decorated the gangway and the wall, and droplets sparked against the force field as they dribbled down it.

  “Bozhe moy! What happened?”

  “This was our guy. I saw him and started shouting for him to step away from the device. He glanced up at me, stumbled backward and blew up, as if from the inside out.”

  “Goddamn. The Savrakaths booby-trapped him.”

  “Looks like.”

  “I
t also means they were watching or listening through him, and now they’re blind.”

  “Unless there’s a cam on the container.”

  “If there is, we’re already dead.”

  “Good point.” Richard stepped around a blotch of blood on the floor with wiry hairs sticking out of it. “The question is, did he arm the bomb before we got here, or did I interrupt him?”

  “We can’t take the chance that you didn’t.” David picked his way past the carnage and knelt in front of the circular container. “We need to get this thing open.”

  Richard produced a multitool from his belt, pressed a button, and a chisel snapped out. “There’s a seam along the edge of the top here.”

  Thank god for inferior Savrakath construction; if this had been a Concord device, it would have been impenetrable.

  Richard jimmied the flat edge of the chisel into the tiny seam and leaned into it as best he could given the top of the container was almost as tall as he was. Nothing happened. “A little help?”

  David stood and wrapped his hands around Richard’s, and together they threw their entire combined weight into it.

  A tiny crack appeared in the top, less than a centimeter wide.

  Richard exhaled and moved the chisel farther along the seam, and they repeated the process. Finally, when they’d worked a quarter of the top loose, on their next attempt the lid went flying up into the air, bounced off the force field with an angry sizzle and clattered to the gangway.

  They both leaned over to peer inside the container. Suspended by five metal braces halfway down was an opaque, heavily shielded orb.

  Richard let out a tense breath. “Ever seen anything like this?”

  “Not since those eight hours of bomb identification training fifty years ago.”

  “Yeah…I seem to recall the trainers saying something to the effect of, ‘Identify what you can, then call in a hazmat team and let them handle it.’ ”