by William Cray
Her master finished making adjustments to the machine then he joined in its power as he connected with it. All this time she never knew his name. They became intimate so quickly under his guidance that it never even came up. But she knew it now. His name was Odo, and she saw the plans he had for her and their children.
He was an exile from his people. They would not accept him back. Instead Odo would make her the mother of a new race of Intruders that would evolve to their full and terrible potential under his guidance. Guidance that he offered his people but they rejected and imprisoned him for.
As her master spoke to God through the machine, she would have to defend him. Protect him until he completed his task to awaken God. It would be easy enough. She would cast the city into chaos. The police barge was just the start.
But Rory would eventually be coming.
The last thoughts of her parents had been of saving Rory Duran and preventing her master from escaping. This man, whom her parents crossed a sea of stars to ensure was dead, was now the father of her unborn child. Her parents had died under his hands, but she understood him now, seeing the possibilities of his vision and utopia he would install. Duran thought this was about revenge, but it wasn’t. It was about the rebirth of a race. The price would be terrible, but their child would be strong.
Odo circled around her impatiently. She could feel him seething. His supreme confidence sometimes erupted into anger when things were moving too slowly for him. She could feel him wanting to lash out. He wanted to exert his power through the machine, but he had to wait.
She froze as Odo turned on her. Coming up close, his hand cupped her chin and raised her eyes to his as he stared back at her. She could look into his eyes and it seemed like he knew everything. Sometimes though, like now, his eyes could project a cruel malevolence, all in the same glance.
She could tell, once he had talked to God, he would do something cruel. Celeste could see it in his eyes. The machine would give him the power to do whatever he wanted to the people under their grasp.
He released his grip on her as she turned her focus to the next target, selecting the ones she needed.
24
Emergency Coordination Platform
Barge 1
The Zone
“That’s Benny Price.”
“Detective Price?” Claire Nyuen asked.
“No doubt. I partnered with his father for a year. I bounced Benny on my knee when he was a kid. He didn’t report for recall. Supposed to be on vacation or something outside the city.”
The images captured from a circling lifter waiting to land on Barge-Two was reversed and replayed again, for the third time. Ben Price was dressed in a NMCPD uniform, climbing out of a police cruiser just levitated up to the barge platform. Price exited the cruiser and began walking towards the barge command center. Price was confronted by another officer who approached casually at first then showed signs of alarm as Price pulled out his gun and shot him three times in the chest at close range. The officer went down in a heap, still struggling until Price put a fourth round into his face as he passed. Other officers in the vicinity started to react as Price opened his radiation suit, reaching under his service uniform and jerking hard at something beneath his vest. He righted himself then stumbled into the large van of the assembled command center as a pile of officers stormed after him. Less than ten seconds later, an explosion ripped through the command center in gout of flame and debris, turning over parked cruisers and throwing waiting lifters over the barge sides. Bodies of officers could be seen sprawled across the platform, others near the edge tossed over the side, landing in sickening convulsions below.
“Epidermal suicide bombing. Has to be. Just like Kolblut and the others found with Duran.” Claire said, watching the replay again.
Cole looked on, shaking his head. “Benny wouldn’t do such a thing. You couldn’t just convince him to do it, or even trick him into something like this. He was a straight arrow like his dad.” Cole raised his hand, squeezing the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the tension, building with the revelation. “How do I tell his father about this?”
Claire reversed the image, stopping on the instant Price ripped the bloody cord from his stomach. Cole watched, listening to his counter terrorism expert as she dissected the final moments of the little boy that Cole remembered as a six year old.
“This is different from the bombing at the Ulysses.” She said. “The two don’t connect. The explosives and expertise needed are two different methodologies. The bombing at the Ulysses was a drop job. This…” She pointed to Price on the frozen image, “This is more personal.”
Cole looked down at her remembering the moments on the platform just above the Ulysses, as they planned to take Duran into custody and instead, he leapt off the edge, when he could have killed them all right there if he wanted. He had risked killing himself to avoid doing them harm. “Personal…that’s what Duran said. The bombing at the Ulysses was too impersonal.”
Cole looked down at Duran’s equipment, still sitting on the table. “Claire, the answers are in there,” pointing to the haphazard collection of gear. He turned to a guard stationed just outside the door. “Bring me Duran.”
First responders began to report the initial casualties on Barge 2 as it hung in the air, belching smoke and fire from the explosion. The lifter pads were blocked with wrecked cars and smashed aircraft, with the remains of ruined support vans cluttering the three hundred square meter platform. Lifter pilots bravely came in, dropping in medics and releasing Med-Teks that set up triage areas around the barge, carrying wounded and dead alike to the few clear area’s remaining, making tiny pockets of urgent action amongst the ruin. Cole watched as all the elements, placed in his care, responded with fervor and dedication in the relief of their fellows.
Duran was escorted in, now back in full restraints. Cole looked over at him as Duran watched the developing scenes on the monitor. “Rory, if what you are saying is the truth, you need to show me everything on your infoboard…now.”
Nyuen moved over to the pile of gear, pulling out the infoboard and putting it in front of Duran. “You will have to release the encryption. Tell me what to do.”
“It’s open,” he said after closing his eyes for a moment. “Access the secure message queue.”
Nyuen pulled the data cord out of a slot, plugging it into an interface on an adjacent console. The secure message queue came up and each entry decrypted in sequence as Duran entered the key from his network link. Nyuen selected the most recent message first, one marked from Colonel John Cochrane, Base Intelligence Officer, Phobos Military Depot.
The message began,
Major Duran,
-Received a return on a H-Band frequency sweep over New Meridian City.
-The reading indicates a luminous tritanium dispersion field signature on the lower maintenance ring of the orbital tower at about six thousand meters.
-The configuration is dissimilar to the standard intruder mind control tower, however the mass and general shape of the individual constructs appears to be capable of serving as a large transmitter array.
An image of the maintenance ring appeared, showing a donut shaped series of rings and platforms around the carbon hex nanotube central spire. The image changed a second later with a header that read…H-Band. The two images merged. A series of six spikes, highlighted in teal, extended from the ring in the H-Band spectrum, sloping like talons towards the ground. From the high angle of the antennas on Phobos they could see one of the long spikes pointed into the Hebes Chasma trench towards the city. Another pointed towards Hab-11 with a third pointing directly at one of the surface power domes. The rest were obscured from view by the tower.
The maintenance ring was one of four that slid up and down the outside of the thirteen thousand kilometer tower, servicing the massive black tendon. Each of the rings had an articulated arm that revolved around the exterior, moving large sections of materials to reinforce or rebuild the towers c
omplex architecture to protect against wear in the harsh Martian environment. The copula had life support, a crane and could hold construction materials on flat bed platform. People could work on the exterior of the tower if needed, but mostly it was done remotely.
The lowest ring was suspended six kilometers in the air, beyond the ability of a casual onlooker to observe its activities from the surface even if it weren’t for the ever-present dust cover and atmospheric debris.
“What the fuck is that thing?”
“It’s a mind control array.” Claire said. “The configuration is a little different, but that is one for sure. Oh my god.” She put her hand up to her mouth.
Cole reached for his headset when Duran stopped him.
“Cole … “ Duran glared up at him, “it’s already to late for them…”
“My people are at the tower. I’ve got to warn them.”
“It’s too late. Order all you people out of the Zone, Commissioner. Do it right now.” Duran whispered. “Before we are all trapped in here.”
“What about my people? How do you know it’s too late for them?” Cole snapped back.
“Release me, and I will go and see. It will be much easier if I go alone.”
“You should have told me from the beginning. You should have warned us.” Cole’s voice raised an octave as his forehead rippled with rising anger.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Duran countered. “It would have only tipped the Intruder that we knew he was coming. He could have slipped out from our net as easily as he replaced one of my men on the Intruder moon. He would have moved on somewhere else to do the same thing.”
“You used my city as bait, you son of a bitch!” He slammed his hand on the table. “I should lock you up until your body turns to rust!”
“I acted!” Duran yelled back. “While this shithole city and this entire fucking planet sat and watched the Intruders occupy Earth, and laughed at the Emperor, I acted. While you dug holes in the ground to hide, I was out there…” Duran pointed to the sky. “I was out there hunting them.”
Cole leaned forward, crowding Duran. “But you let one get away didn’t you Major.”
“That’s right! The one that’s out there right now!” Duran seethed. “And I’m here to finish the job. All you have to do is let me go.”
“I’ll call off the operation, but I won’t lie to my superiors.” Cole said, rubbing his forehead.
“Just do it. Let the politicians pick up the pieces. If I fail none of this will matter anyway.”
Cole stared at him for a long moment, then nodded, ordering the guard to release Duran’s restraints. “This isn’t over Duran. Not by a long shot. You still endangered my city and that is a crime of the greatest magnitude.”
“Call my barrister when this is over.” Duran shot back. “You’ll find him on Singlon.”
Duran shook loose from the restraints, rubbing one hand, flexing it as he winced. He moved to the table with his dissembled gear spread out across it. Duran grabbed the combat vest and began configuring his equipment. He tore his infoboard loose and slid it into the armored back pocket on the back of the ballistic vest.
“Order your people out. Get the population down in the trench or in shelters, as far down as you can get them. If the device comes online it will require a lot of power. Take out the power grid to the tower if you can … shut it off.” Duran said.
“The tower has back up systems in its lower foundations somewhere. Enough for running life support and other critical systems.” Cole countered. “Just shutting off the power won’t cut off the whole tower.”
“Can you blow it?”
“What, the tower? Are you insane?”
“We need to keep it from coming online. If it does, we may all be dancing with a finger up our ass.”
“No way, takes three levels of approval to separate the tower and only if structural failure is imminent.”
Duran pulled on the vest, still stained with Daren Rachenko’s blood and adjusted the clasps holding it in place. “Alright, I'll handle it.”
Cole turned to the command staff and began to issue a string of orders. A brief and confused discussion broke out, but he silenced the discord with his raspy command voice. The staff shifted gears, beginning the planning for rapid displacement and pull out. There would still be a lot of people left behind, most of them Phelman’s Children, but Cole assured them nothing could be done and the first orders to withdraw started going out.
Duran continued to pack his gear, talking with Claire Nyuen in a low voice, gathering any intelligence he could before going into the city. Cole walked into his office and opened up one of the bags in the back corner. He pulled out a black and chrome gun. He walked back to Duran and passed the Talon to him. Duran examined it before looking back up at Cole.
“Your partner’s.” Cole said.
Duran nodded, checking the weapon’s charge and magazine before sliding it into his vest holster.
A cop brought Duran one of the clear radiation suits, which he declined, saying if he needed it, it would be too late.
“What else do you need Duran?”
“Can you get me a transport to the tower?”
“Lifter?”
Duran nodded. “See if you can get a military ship. Make sure the crew turns on all its jammers. That might get me closer.”
“I’ll see what I can call up.” Cole said.
Duran turned to leave, grabbing the cigarettes and putting them in his pants pocket, before pulling on his gloves and heading for the door. As the guard prepared to open the door to the isolation room, Cole called out.
“Rory…” Duran turned, but Cole failed to complete the statement, looking at him. Duran stepped up to him and offered his hand. Cole took it firmly. “Good Luck.”
Duran nodded, turning back to the exit. As he waited for the isolation door to cycle open, he stopped suddenly, looking up, frozen.
“What is it Duran?”
He whispered. “Celeste.”
Sentinel 22
Military Transport
On Approach to Phobos Commonwealth Military Depot
Commander Regan executed a picture perfect atmospheric deceleration maneuver around Mars. On a blue flame, his sleek gray executive transport rounded the planet, buffeting against the orange and pink watercolors of the Martian upper atmosphere as it slowed before bouncing back into a higher orbit. The first rays of the bright yellow sun, almost two hundred million miles away, reflected off the Commonwealth Navy Shield and Meteor crest emblazoned the nose of the vessel, reflecting back into the cockpit.
After initial insertion, Regan fired his main engines again on approach to their final destination, the Phobos Military Depot. As they approached the station, his copilot contacted the base dock master and asked for immediate clearance to enter the vacant landing pattern. Being given priority clearance to land was no surprise. They were carrying hot cargo.
They had been on the run from Ceres to Io three weeks ago when they received orders to immediately transport priority passengers to Mars. After unloading their diverted cargo of a very upset Planetary Force general and his staff on Io, their priority passenger arrived, in the form of a six foot three woman with over the shoulder length auburn hair, framing an elegant face with large hazel eyes. The simple campaign brown contemporary business suit did little to obscure the Venusian body that portrayed an athletic yet feminine stature. Her long brown hair was a simple style that covered the left side of her face, hiding the hint of a jagged scar underkneath. She carried with her only two bags, which the crew chief almost strained a muscle trying to stow. Their passenger had toted them with ease. Regan and the crew settled in to await the rest of the VIP's for the run to Mars when the woman simply told him, “Let's go.”
Regan was a veteran Skyforce pilot and had known what she was when she walked on board, despite flashing Commonwealth diplomatic credentials. He had seen people like her before, but only on
ce. During the Vendetta he had dropped twenty-four such creatures like her deep into Intruder territory one night. He hadn’t known what happened to them, or even if they had survived their mission in a classified star system with a powerful red giant star, code-named Diablo, but he had seen them and the stare of bloodied veterans in their eyes. Today, their solitary cargo carried the look that caused men to appear transparent to them through mechanized eyes. Looking into her eyes was like staring into a brilliant star’s corona during an eclipse. It was irresistible to look upon its magnificence with the naked eye, but the pain of stealing an unprotected glance forced you to look away, searing the stolen image onto the retina. Regan thought about that for a moment and how lonely her life must be.
Inbound and just hours away from landing at the Arsia Military Field, they were diverted to the Phobos Commonwealth Military Depot for an unspecified reason. The course change required some last minute maneuvers on their inward trajectory, but it was an easy transition for Regan and his experienced crew. They were a long way from their normal route but they looked forward to some leave, being so close to civilization. Their passenger said nothing when informed of the change, instead finding a quiet part of the transport and beginning a set of mental and physical exercises. The motions she went through were slow and intense as she cycled through a series of quantum wave calculations displayed on an infoboard in front of her. At the conclusion of her intense exercises, she dressed again in her conservative suit and then sat down quietly in her compartment, sending and receiving messages on one of the ships antenna arrays until they were ready to dock. Some of the crew marveled at her. Others were terrified by her presence. No one wanted her attention.