Zero

by J. S. Collyer

  Hugo stood with his back pressed to the metal and watched him gain height whilst glancing about for any sign of movement. When Webb was above his head, Hugo touched his own grips to the wall, felt them take hold, then started to climb. He kept himself a foot below Webb's ankles, letting the commander pick the way and keep them in the narrow band of blindness between the two sensor hubs. Hugo kept his ears tuned for any change in the drone of activity beyond the wall. His arms began to ache but he kept moving, hand over hand, keeping his rhythm with Webb's.

  Webb stopped. Craning his neck, Hugo he could see the commander was an arm's length from the top. He disengaged his right-hand grip and tucked it into his belt. Hugo held his breath. Webb's movements were smooth and controlled, but what he could see of the younger man's face was a rigid mask of concentration. Webb smoothed his right hand up the wall and slid it up over the top, took a firm hold then disengaged his left grip. His left hand joined his right then he lifted himself up, painfully slowly, until he was peering over the edge. His arms didn't even quiver as he held himself there, scanning. Hugo held himself perfectly still.

  Webb ducked his head back below the level of the wall and Hugo saw his face was pale.

  “Were you seen?” Hugo mouthed.

  Webb shook his head, then his eyes widened. Hugo followed his look and saw the patrol man step out from beyond the far corner of the wall. They froze. Hugo felt his knuckles protest as his crushed the grips and his muscles burned with the effort of keeping motionless. But the guard turned his back in their direction and leant against a tree, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one.

  Hugo let out a breath and looked up at Webb, but he was already moving. He pulled himself up until his arms were locked straight, head and torso above the top of the wall. Hugo swallowed but still no one shouted. He then watched as the commander brought up his right leg and got the toe of his boot under the sensor beams. Hugo glanced back, confirmed the guard was still smoking and looked back in time to see Webb hoist himself up. It happened so quick Hugo didn't catch exactly what the commander did but one minute he was straddling the sensor beams, balanced on the heels of his palms and the toes of his boots, then he'd dropped down out of sight. There was a soft clang as he dropped onto something metallic and then it was Hugo's turn.

  He pulled himself up, disengaged his grips one at a time, just as Webb had. When he pulled himself up, for a split second he saw the base laid out below, a sprawling stretch of tarmac, metal and concrete and then he was letting his body take over. He got a foot up, clenched his teeth as he almost tripped the sensor beam, then heaved, got one arm over and shifted his feet. His spine protested at the angle as he cast one glance down to take in the corrugated iron roof of an outbuilding ten feet below. He allowed himself one breath and jumped.

  It wasn't his best landing. His boots clanged onto the metal and he stumbled forward with a clatter onto his hands and knees. Ignoring the throbbing in his knees he shuffled over to the edge of the building and tumbled off. He hit the ground, rolled up and ducked behind a squat store house that shouldered up against the boundary wall. Webb was crouched in the narrow space. The ground was cracked and dusty and covered in cigarette butts. Webb was peering around the far corner but ducked back when Hugo came up behind him.

  “I can see the security booth,” he murmured. Hugo shifted himself and Webb made room for him to look around the corner. The concrete booth was about fifty feet away, antennas and cameras sprouting from the roof but no windows facing their way. There was nothing between it and their hiding place but a couple of gutted hulks of four-by-four land transports, some rusted cargo crates and a stack of dented lifters.

  “So, this infiltration training you had, Captain,” Webb said as Hugo ducked back behind cover. “Ever had to use it in the field?” Hugo shook his head. “Didn't think so,” Webb shifted his crouch and looked Hugo directly in the eye. “Until we get into that booth, we're gonna show up on the video feeds. Walk easily. Don't hunch but don't walk like you've got a rod up your ass either. Anyone spots us, they need to think we're tech crew coming back from a sly cigarette, okay?” Hugo nodded. “You know you haven't snapped at me in like an hour? It's making me nervous.”

  “Get moving, Commander. We're on the clock.”

  “That's better,” Webb said with a grin. Then he straightened, dusted off his knees and with an ease that Hugo couldn't quite believe, strode out from behind the store house, hands in pockets. Swallowing, Hugo followed, concentrating on keeping his face passive, his fists unclenched at his sides and his pace loose. It took a lot of effort not to look at the cameras.

  Webb paused to let him catch up then fell into step beside him. They moved around the skeleton of one of the cars and stepped out onto the open space behind the booth. Beyond was the motor pool. There were civilian cars and flyers, but also a rather convincing bank of black four-by-fours, paint gleaming and with the AI logo emblazoned on the side. As they got closer he could also see a bank of fighter-class flyers beyond them. The main building of the command centre loomed up behind, ten stories high, all concrete and glass. People milled about the motor pool or came and went through the doors, most of them in clean white lab coats or crisp business suits. Lights were on on every level and he could see the silhouettes of workers moving about inside.

  Glancing, Hugo took all this in and then they were coming up on the security booth. Webb confirmed the door was locked with a quick rattle of the handle. They glanced about but nobody was looking their way and Webb crouched down to pick the lock. Hugo moved to stand where he could shield him from anyone that may glance their way. He heard a chair shifting and a muffled voice from inside the booth just as the lock gave and Webb pushed the door open.

  The guard was dead even before Hugo had shut the door behind them. Webb tucked his gun back inside his boiler suit and then sat himself at the controls. A bank of screens ran the length of the room, all showing different levels and corners of the command centre and motor pool as well as the area surrounding the boundary wall.

  “You wanna shove him out of sight, Captain?” Webb mumbled as his fingers flew over the keypad. Hugo looked down at the guard sprawled across the floor tiles, blank eyes staring up and blood pooling under his head. Hugo dragged the body under the far corner of the work desk, leaving a trail of blood across the floor. “That'll do.” Webb said with a glance. “Nearly there.”

  “Already?” Hugo said, coming up behind the chair, watching as the feeds on the cameras flickered or changed direction and screens displaying sensor arrays and alarm grids shuddered and re-aligned.

  Webb shrugged. “Domestic system. Would have thought they'd have something more heavy-duty. Guess they rely on the fact that it's closed and grounded to protect it. That should do it. Come on.”

  They slipped out of the security booth and around the back then made their way towards the main building, keeping behind store houses and outbuildings where they could. They peeled away from the busier part of the grounds at the north west corner, and Hugo shivered as they passed into the shadow of the command building. The noise faded behind them. The rear of the building was separated from the boundary wall by a narrow strip of cracked tarmac. There were cameras on the wall but thanks to Webb's hack, they were all facing away. They paused when they reached a service door. There was no handle and no control panel.

  “Are you sure this will work?” Hugo muttered.

  “Trust me, Captain,” Webb smiled, pulling thumb-sized charges from his utility belt.

  Hugo glanced back up at the cameras one more time as Webb set the charges on the concrete jamb. Webb backed away and Hugo followed him until they were pressed against the wall. They crouched down and Webb covered his head with an arm then pressed the detonator. Hugo flung his own arms up just in time.

  The was an odd sound, a sucking pop and a cracking, then the pattering of peppered concrete falling to the ground. Hugo looked up and saw the door, twisted and scorched, hanging off its hinges, blackened goug
es in the jambs on either side.

  “My own recipe,” Webb said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Never fails.”

  The remains of the metal door were hot even through their gloves. They managed to shoulder it aside and slip into the darkened corridor beyond. Hugo took the lead this time, using his wrist display to confirm the way. The corridor gradually lightened and he saw a door with a window up ahead. Hugo approached slowly then peered out into the busy corridor.

  “Everything looks normal,” he said.

  “Try not to sound so surprised, Captain,” Webb whispered. “I have done this before, you know.”

  They stood there in the dark for what seemed like an eternity before there was a break in the foot traffic. They ducked out and across the corridor with Hugo's heart hammering hard enough to shake his skull, and through a door on the other side. It was another service corridor, windowless with closed doors on either side. Webb had off-lined the motion sensors so it remained as dark as the first passage. They pulled out lenslights to make their way down to an even darker stairwell. Hugo craned his neck, sending the beam of his light between the flights of stairs. There was the steady hum and thunk of the bank of lifts on the other side of the wall, along with the general mumblings and footsteps of a workforce going about its business. Apart from that, all was deserted and quiet.

  Hugo took the lead up the stairs. Every footfall echoed in the silence. They got to the third floor by counting the flights and pressed themselves to the wall either side of the exit. Hugo concentrated on the feeling of the cool wall pressed against his back, clenching his eyes shut and trying to ignore the sensation of his skin crawling.

  “You get used to it,” Webb murmured as he checked over his gun in the beam of his lenslight. “Undercover, I mean. Shooting people in the back. It gets easier.”

  “How do you know? You don't have anything to compare it to.”

  Webb's face darkened but then he switched off his lenslight and turned his back on Hugo. Hugo shifted back and shut off his own light as Webb braced himself and opened the exit door a crack. Hugo held his breath as the commander put his face to the gap.

  “Come on,” Webb said eventually and ducked out. Hugo followed. The corridor was empty, though the windows on one side overlooked the activity in the motor pool. He saw Webb pause and wrinkle his nose and a minute later it hit Hugo. An odd tang in the air...acidic, strong. For a minute it threatened to turn Hugo's stomach.

  “What's that?” Webb mouthed but Hugo just gestured for him to move on.

  They carried on creeping down the corridor. Even though he knew the cameras were off or misdirected, it still took an effort to move past them. They hugged the wall, as far from the windows as possible, and approached a bend in the corridor with ears straining for any kind of noise.

  They were nearly at the corner when they heard voices from behind them. Hugo looked back the way they had come. The service door onto the stairwell was ajar and the voices were getting louder.

  “Shit,” Webb cursed, looking this way and that. “This would have been a good time to have fake ID.”

  “Quick,” Hugo said, pointing to a door.

  Webb crossed the corridor in two strides, dropped to his knees and began working on the lock of the store cupboard.

  “Faster,” Hugo growled, seeing the service door start to open.

  Webb muttered another curse before the cupboard door swung inward and the two men tumbled inside.

  “Lock it,” Hugo ordered and Webb did so. They stood in the dark, breathing. Hugo was flat against the wall but Webb was looking out of the window in the door.

  “Get away from the glass, Commander,” Hugo hissed.

  “Hold on,” Webb said. “I want to see who's using the service stairs.”

  “Maintenance crews? Get back.”

  “Maintenance crews use the elevators like everyone else, Hugo...what the fuck?” Webb's face froze and he ducked back away from the window.

  “What?”

  Webb shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. Hugo edged a little closer to the window. Three figures came into view. He recognised the tall, square-faced Gabor, the base commander, from Luscombe's files. He was accompanied by a woman in a security uniform holding a computer panel, and a much shorter man in a suit. They paused almost right outside the store cupboard and Hugo frowned. The shorter man had space-pale skin and no hair. His eyes were extremely light and looked out of his hairless face with a keenness that set Hugo's nerves jangling. The two men murmured to each other as they checked what the security woman was showing them on the panel, then moved on out of sight.

  The second they were out of sight, Hugo’s wrist panel started blinking. He looked at the display, saw Webb doing the same.

  “What happened?” Hugo whispered.

  Webb shook his head. “Someone logged into the security system and tripped my warning protocol. But they didn't do anything.”

  “They left the security scrambled?” Hugo said, frowning. “Was it them?” he asked, pointing out the window.

  “I don't know,” Webb said, shaking his head. In the wan light of his wrist display his face looked drawn. “There's something not right here, Captain,” Webb whispered. “I think we should abort.”

  “No,” Hugo said.

  “Captain...”

  Hugo looked at Webb, who stood rigid against the wall. “Commander, what's wrong?”

  “I just got a bad feeling,” Webb mumbled to himself, still looking out the window.

  Hugo blinked. “The bald man with Gabor… you recognised him. He’s the one Jaeger said was looking for you, isn't he? Who is he?”

  “Captain, there's no time. We need to get out. Now.”

  Hugo shook his head. “You'll answer my question later, Commander. But for now we carry on.”

  “Sir -”

  “That's an order,” Hugo said. “Move. We're running out of time.”

  Webb took a breath and peered out the window. He then unlocked the door and crept out into the corridor, drawing his gun as he went. Hugo did the same, but they didn't meet anyone. All was silent. They passed several closed doors and paused at a junction with a sign to the labs.

  “Are you ready?” Hugo said. Webb tugged at the peak of his cap and nodded. “Alright then. Lab 4. Go.”

  Hugo saw him take a breath and then move to cross the junction to the lab.

  Hugo threw himself to the floor as the air was shattered by gunfire. The wall exploded in a rain of plaster and the ungodly noise tore everything apart. The firing was coming from somewhere out of sight down the left hand corridor. There was no sign of Webb, but then someone returned fire from around the next corner to the right. Hugo crouched down on one knee, edged himself to the corner, then leant round and started firing. The wall above his head exploded and dust almost blinded him. He ducked back out of range.

  There was a lull and Hugo crouched, breathing hard, gun ready. He leaned as far as he dared but he couldn't see Webb or whoever was firing at them.

  “Come out,” someone barked. “You're out-gunned and there's no way out. Give yourselves up.”

  Hugo cursed under his breath. There was no sound from Webb's direction. He heard some muttering and movement. He steadied himself, and when the first guard came into sight, shot him down. His companion wheeled around and started firing, but blindly, angrily and Hugo managed to duck back around the corner. He leant around and fired again, drawing out two more guards, hoping Webb would use the opportunity to get away.

  The security men fell back, took up a better position and worked on obliterating the corner of wall by his ear. Hugo continued to blindly return fire, and from the sound of a pained scream managed to take out one more, then turned and ran for the stairs.

  The stairwell was still dark. He could hear approaching booted feet and angry shouts from below so went up, taking the stairs three at a time. Two floors up, the stairwell flooded with light and alarms started blaring.

  He swore and shoulde
red open the next door he came across. He only had time for the briefest of glances at his wrist panel to determine the layout of the floor he was on before he hurtled around a corner, straight into a bank of armed men, guns drawn.

  “Drop it,” one of them snarled.

  Hugo stood frozen in the sights of the half-dozen automatic rifles. He dropped his gun. One man put up his rifle and came forward. Hugo waited until he was at arm's length then grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him between himself and the guns. There was a confused moment of shouts and the man fighting against him that Hugo used to pull a flash charge from his belt and hurl it towards the bank of men.

  There was a deafening bang and a flash of white and a hiss and the air was a confused mess of shouting, gunfire and foul-smelling fog. Hugo threw the startled guard away towards the rabble and flung himself through another door.

  He was in a small room with a bank of workstations at one side and a wall of windows on the other. Three terrified people in lab coats scrambled away from the door as he came careening through. Hugo hauled a set of shelves over to block the door, spilling computer and machine parts onto the floor just as gunfire started to tear it apart. One of the women screamed.

  Hugo didn't spare them a glance but ran to the window. He saw how high up he was and felt his stomach lurch but then came a sickening noise that shook the room, rattled the glass in its fittings and knocked him to the floor. More alarms started blaring and he could smell smoke.

  He grabbed a chair from the nearest workstation and flung it through the window, glass flying everywhere. He clambered up onto the sill, feeling a chill ride up him as he looked down at the tarmac below. The breeze tugged at his hair. Forcing aside a sickness in the pit of his stomach, he climbed out, lowered himself until he was dangling from his gloved fingertips, took a deep breath and let go.