by William Cray
Morse watched the bulky, flat orange, P.F. lifter rotate its vectored thrust engines and jet away with a cloud of radioactive dust thrown up in the air. He turned back and activated his com system, using his thumb to select the command channel back to his base platform, one of the barges operating inside Habitation Dome 11.
Morse broadcast on the secure channel, “Team Zero Four in position, all secure.”
Barge 4's command team responded with, “Roger.”
Morse paused as the team started to deploy. He looked at the breath of the tower, taking in its size. Despite living here all his life, he had never once been to the towers base, and the sight was awe-inspiring. He followed the tower skyward with his eyes, bending his back, craning through his face shield to see Phobos, anchored above. As he looked up, towards the disappearing spire, he felt a twinge of disorientation as the moving dust clouds above gave the sky-gouging tower the illusion that it was falling. A slow, long arch collapsing to the ground with mighty Phobos still attached at the end.
“I don’t feel so good.” Came over his com.
“Check your Oh-two mix. Something is wrong with mine.” Someone else said.
Morse looked forward, trying to shake the momentary dizziness from the chimera. The disorientation continued as he tried to steady himself. He reached for the shoulder of one of his team to steady himself, but missed. He went down to one knee as the initial disorientation turned to dizziness, strobing into a violent popping of lights and images.
The first messages to Cole’s command center from Barge Four that one of their teams was late checking in went unnoticed at first due to the constant stream of other important activities. Routine communications were often spotty inside the domes. The sudden employment of ‘Clean Sweep’ meant many of the usual details, such as primary communication protocols, hadn’t been deconflicted before the operation began. But direct calls to the Stratospire’s security office had been answered and everything there was reported fine. Again, his staff reassured him that the folks on Barge Four had everything under control so it was another ten minutes before Cole's gut told him something was wrong.
Cole had been a career law enforcement officer and his professional rise had been won on hard work. But over the years he had learned to listen to the sick, rumbling feeling deep inside him that warned him something was wrong. It had saved him more than once. He had that feeling now, turning his spine into a conduit that passed his subconscious unease to his nervous system.
“Still negative contract, sir.”
Cole turned his head to face Duran in the corner of the command center. Duran was staring back. The hardened expression on his face told Cole that Duran was deep into his own machinations and maybe, maybe … he had an inkling of what was going on. But Duran hadn’t yet proven that he could be trusted to tell the truth.
The same instinct that told Cole something was wrong, also told him that Duran was torn between his true objectives and the bullshit he had laid on Cole earlier in the week. The question was, what is his objective?
Duran, yelled across the command center, startling the subdued silence of the staff. “You’ve got to pull your people back Cole. Things are getting out of control.”
With a dismissive wave, Cole ordered Duran out of the command center and his escorts grabbed him up by his elbows and manhandled him back outside. Whatever answers Duran had, they weren’t forthcoming.
Cole looked back at the monitor then up to the raid schedule posted on the screen. Making changes to the plan would throw off the timetables, but something was wrong. Criminal gangs in the Zone couldn’t silence both the security force and Team Zero Four without some kind of prior notice they were up to something. Unless … these were Duran's terrorists, Cole thought.
“Operations…reroute one of the raid units to make physical contact with STT-04.”
The diversion would cause a ripple effect on the schedule of raids and checkpoints, but he couldn’t take the risk that something was wrong there. He had a reaction force on Barge 2 of twenty men in Territorial Guard lifters in case a serious situation sprung up that required a more potent force, but Cole wouldn’t send them on an errand that could be nothing more than a technical glitch. If he were wrong, then his staff would have to make some scheduling adjustments, but if there was something going on at the base of the Stratospire, he had to know.
A heavy lifter again pounced on the deck of the command barge outside, its engines flaring then fading in the usual pattern as Cole monitored the backup team taking overwatch near the Stratospire. The team deployed normally and soon the all clear was given. It was a communication glitch.
Cole turned away from the bank of monitors as a woman in civilian clothing entered the van; her dark brunette hair was matted down and clipped into a ponytail under her Iso-hood. She carried a heavy bag slung over one shoulder, which she leaned into as she walked into the command center. She pulled the sweat-stained hood of her Iso-suit back from her head as Cole approached.
“Sorry to bring you out here Claire. Anything?” Cole asked.
She dropped the bag on a nearby open table, shaking her head. “Nothing Chief. I can verify that the encryption is Gen Six at least, but with an extra filter set that is beyond any thing I’ve got access to. Commonwealth Intelligence at least, but I think it’s Imperial. But either way I won’t be able to scrub anything off of its messaging system. I figure your mystery man out there has the codes hardwired into him. You picked him up?”
Cole nodded. “Time frame to brute force the encryption?”
“About four years.”
“About what I expected.” Cole said. “Anything else you can tell me?”
“I made some calls to some old colleagues in the business. Unfortunately they couldn’t give me anything firm but one said a hard-wired encryption is very old but reliable tech. There are more modern and flexible methods used now, so your suspect is an old school operator, probably Ultra Four or earlier.”
“I’m sorry Claire, that doesn’t mean anything to me.” Cole said, half smiling at his Counter Cyber Terrorism expert, Claire Nyuen.
“Those models first appeared in the Grenadier Regiments almost a century ago, around the time of the Rokon War. Invasive modifications that resulted in a shortened lifespan, they were mainly from high gravity well populaces. Those models were designed for extreme survivability in close combat.”
Cole snorted, “Have you met him yet?”
Claire shook her head and Cole continued. “Scary individual, not very personable either. We figured he was Imperial, but what we don’t know is what he’s doing here. Because we know who sent him, doesn’t tell us why he is here or what he wants. Regia Tonaska thinks this could be part of some sort of attempt to nullify parts of the Articles of Abdication relating to Mars.” Cole looked back at the monitors, “But we won’t know anything until we crack that encryption, Claire.”
“I’m sorry Chief. The only way to identify a starting point would be to take a knife to your Ultra outside and dig the hardware out of him.”
Cole frowned looking down at the bag of gear as a small light continued to flash on Duran’s infoboard. He pointed to the light. “What’s that?” he asked.
“There’s at least one message in the queue. Its been flashing for a couple of hours.” She said, pulling it out of the bag.
“Your people inventory the rest of his equipment?”
Claire nodded. “He was set up as a one man gang. Guns, variable load magazines, ID’s, VG antenna, ballistic armor, infiltration and surveillance gear. Identical to his partner’s stuff… all military grade. I’ve got it all outside.”
Cole looked around the command center one more time, starting with the observation team set up outside the Stratospire. They were behind schedule, but nothing critical was being ignored and there didn’t seem to be a crisis developing anywhere at the moment. They had reached a brief pause in the operational tempo of Clean Sweep. Most of the first te
ams sent out were returning from their initial queue of missions and were starting to arrive at scheduled decon sites set up by Territorial Guard troops. They would rotate back to the trench and be given a thorough exam before being sent out again.
“Things seem to be under control.” He turned to Claire. “Lets go talk to him.”
Cole led her to the compartment the operations staff had set up for interrogating drug lords or other high level targets swept up in the operation. Duran sat quietly, restrained in his chair. Biometric monitoring gear was set up for interrogations and hung on the wall. Two escorts in assault gear stood behind Duran, warily keeping their guns ready.
As Cole entered, Duran opened his eyes and he thought he caught a hint of the green glow of data streaming across them, which faded as they stepped into the room. Duran looked at the new woman entering, examining her with an icy glance. Cole took a seat across the table from Duran, indicating for Claire to take the only other stiff government chair in the room on his side of the table. Duran exhaled in clear frustration as he stared at Cole.
A clear evidence bag sat at the end of the table. Cole tore open the bag and began pulling out the contents, starting with the bloodied variform knife. There was a smashed pile of electronics that used to be a Percom. Smashing it was probably Duran’s last act of defiance as he was being apprehended. Finally after going through Duran’s redcoat, he found a pack of cigarettes.
Cole slid the cigarettes to Duran and indicated for the guard to release him so he could smoke. The guard released his bandaged left hand from the restraints then retreated back to his position near the door, looking relieved to be out of arms reach.
Duran took the pack, removing one cigarette with his bandaged hand. He struck it on the pack, took a short drag then slid the pack back to Cole.
Cole picked up the pack, offered one to Claire, who turned it down, and then tossed the pack back to the pile of evidence. He looked up.
“What’s your game Duran?”
Still puffing slowly, letting the smoke filter into the compartment, Duran glanced at the two guards in the room, then to Claire. Cole turned to the two guards and asked them to leave. Duran continued to stare at the woman.
“Rory, I want you to meet my Counter Terrorism Expert for Cyber Systems, Claire Nyuen.”
She nodded. “You're Lyran,” Duran said.
“That’s right. I worked for the Lyran SIS.”
Duran nodded. “Good unit.”
“You’ve worked with them?” Claire asked.
Duran didn’t respond, turning back to Cole. He took one deep drag from the cigarette then released a cloud of smoke as he began.
“This is no game Commissioner. The stakes are much higher than the few dozen lives lost so far.” Duran said. “You need to pull your people out.”
Cole shook his head no, countering, “Whose side are you on? You haven’t told me one truth yet.” He pointed at Duran. “What are your orders and who is giving them? Start there.”
Duran pulled the smoking Tyk from his lips, tossing it on the table, watching it roll across as it turned over and over. Cole had seen the look on his face before from a thousand suspects, men about to confess, men who wanted to finally be free of the burden of their sins. Duran wasn’t about to break though. He was ready to free himself.
“I’m acting on an Imperial Mandate, authorized by the Commonwealth Charter acting under the Articles of Abdication. Everything I’m doing is sanctioned.”
Cole continued to stare at Duran who looked down at the table.
“I’m pursuing a lone Intruder who is here in New Meridian City and I don’t know his full intentions beyond that he in the process of constructing a device that will allow him to dominate the minds of the people of New Meridian.”
Cole shook his head in disbelief. “Just like Earth? And where is this Intruder?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere close by though. This operation of yours is very dangerous Cole.”
Cole put his hand up, “You are telling me there is a nine foot tall alien behemoth walking in the city somewhere and no one has reported seeing it. You have to be deranged to think I would go for that.”
“Commissioner,” Duran said. “The Intruders are human, just like us. They are descendents of an expedition that left Earth over a hundred years ago and stumbled across some kind of alien technology that gave them the ability to manipulate minds.”
Cole almost laughed, but Duran cut him off. “I know you have a million questions Commissioner, so do I still. I work for the Ministry of Intelligence and I need your cooperation now.”
“The Ministry Of Intelligence is forbidden from conducting operations inside Commonwealth territories,” Cole shot back. “Counter terrorism is MCE jurisdiction inside the Commonwealth. Why weren’t we notified?”
“You aren’t equipped to deal with the threat. You and your men are vulnerable to the Intruder mind control …”
“And you are not?” Cole interjected.
“No. At least I'm not supposed to be. Me and my team that is.”
“Why not?”
“We were temporarily under their control six years ago, and as a result we are somehow desensitized to it.”
“How many of your team are on Mars?” Cole questioned.
“Just me right now. The rest of my team will be here by tomorrow morning, but I don’t think I can afford to wait for them. The Intruder knows I’m here and he knows he can't directly control me now. He will try to finish whatever he is doing. He will send people to try to kill me, probably your people. Maybe you. You need to pull your people back so he can’t use them against me.”
“Was this Intruder at the club last night?”
Duran nodded. “I almost had him.”
“What are you going to do when you capture him?”
“I intend to kill him. There is no cell safe enough to hold him. He's responsible for the murders.”
“How do you know?”
“During the Vendetta, I was ordered to rescue human hostages from one of the moons around the Intruder homeworld. The bunker we assaulted turned out to be a prison that was holding a single Intruder. The same one I am now pursuing. When we knocked out the power unit from orbit he was somehow able to escape his jailers, take us over, and make his way off the moon before the site was nuked from orbit. His jailers were murdered just like your Max victims. I saw their bodies. The only thing I can figure is that he is the some kind of psychotic that is getting his kicks while trying to take revenge on us for destroying his planet.”
Cole leaned back in the chair. “This is all too much. How do I know you’re telling me the truth this time?”
“Colonel Cochrane on Phobos. He was there when it all happened on the moon. He knows what’s going on now.” Duran said. “Time is running out. You have to let me go.”
“One more question.” Cole asked. “What is the involvement of the girls you sprung from the old weapons locker?”
“I don’t know.” Duran said, but Cole detected a half-truth there. He decided to let it go.
Cole watched Duran in silence. His gut told him that Duran was becoming desperate. He was tired, worried and becoming increasingly frustrated. Next he would turn all of that in to hostility, and Cole wasn’t sure he could stop Duran short of killing him.
Claire Nyuen interjected as the standoff between them continued. “Who is in charge of this operation Duran? Who is running your mission? Who can confirm what you are saying?”
Duran looked up, staring at her with those dead eyes. “The Emperor of A Thousand Suns.”
Cole watched a stillness come over Duran, closing his eyes and sliding his feet together slowly, compressing. Cole started to move back, reaching for the gun under his redcoat. The interrogation room door swung open as Cole watched Duran gathering himself. A female LTC detective entered the office with a look of concern on her face.
“What is it Oka?” Cole asked.
“Commissioner…we’ve lost contact with Barg
e Two. Nearby lifters are reporting a large explosion near its command center.”
The Stratospire
Celeste exhaled as the power of their interlinked minds bonded with a closeness that resembled the slow melting of ice in warm water. She lowered any inhibitions and let him into her mind. She gripped the armrests firmly as the immersion expanded into the flow of mental energy coercing through her. He stood in front of her, gently stroking her forehead as he pressed past any remaining hesitation with the unique corruption of his psyche.
Celeste glanced up at him, and for an instant she thought he was looking back at her instead of through her. Whenever she was close to him, she tensed and avoided his gaze. But whenever she was away from him, she just wanted to be near him again. It wasn’t the heartsick loneliness of love. It was power that drew her to him. Now he hovered over her, his hands moving across her face, trying to sooth her fear as he guided her into the machine.
She saw his complete plans in the fathoms of his dark brown eyes. Celeste gasped as she realized the fate of millions of souls would be in her power, even if just briefly. She tried to writhe away, but he held her in place with just a look and a half grin. Her continuing hesitance was squashed with just the simplest of guidance from him.
Her parents had abandoned her into the unfeeling and empty care of the Commonwealth. They had betrayed their own people. They had betrayed her. But their failure had brought her master to her and the revelations of the gift. That was her inheritance.
She looked up at him intensely. Waiting until he noticed. He momentarily took his attention away from the machine and looked back into her gaze. She nodded to him, ready to accept everything.
Without responding he went back to work hooking her up to the machine. Of course, he knew she would accept his will the moment he found her in the apartment with her lover. She killed her lover that first night, then Odo engorged himself on her body among the remains. It was the only time they shared any physical bond other than pain.