A morning came when Galen finally gave her a first glimpse of what he was trying to do and why he needed her help. He sat down at a terminal and loaded a function.
“This is a security module. How would you overcome it?”
She stared at a many-layered beast of a complexity she’d never seen before; not even in the Fleet.
“Wow. What does this protect?”
“A database, Miss. This is top secret, of course. The database belonged to a doctor, an expert in exotic diseases. He was quite possessive about his research so he contrived a means of preventing anyone from
gaining access to his results. You see it here.”
“You speak as if this person is dead?”
“Yes. Of an exotic disease, of course. We have had an outbreak of serious illness on one of our planets and we hope that perhaps Doctor Harvid had discovered a cure or any sort of notes to help us.”
Galen was wringing his hands again, rolling them over and over. And his eyes had kind of hooded over.
Still, what he’d said sounded plausible in a paranoid society like this one.
“May I see this database? It’ll be quicker if you just give me access to it and let me do the job.”
“No no no no.” Galen’s head swung from side to side in time with the words. “That is not possible.
Besides, I wish to learn how to do this myself.”
A trickle of unease slipped down Allysha’s spine. “Okay, so what is it you wish to do?”
“I wish to break through this barrier and interact with what is behind it.”
“So be able to see and read?”
“Yes, and make changes if I wish.”
She met the man’s eyes. She didn’t like this; she didn’t like it at all. Why would he want to modify the database of results left by a dead man? Oh, she could think of a few; claim credit was one, change the recorded results was another. Exotic diseases? The virus that killed all the Tors on Tisyphor was an exotic disease, too. Maybe that was what they wanted? Well, whatever it was, if she didn’t go along with
it, she’d learn nothing. And Galen wanted to know, wanted to learn. She was sure he wasn’t telling her the whole truth but his motivation seemed genuine enough. At least as far as this module was concerned.
It truly was the most complicated, unforgiving, well-thought-out construction she had ever seen.
She accepted the challenge of the code.
Hour upon hour, for days, Allysha tried attack after attack, directing Galen’s efforts. She would have loved to have forged on alone, reveling in the thrill of the chase. But Galen would not allow it, constantly interrupting with questions and demanding explanations. So she worked at his pace. They stopped only to eat and go to the washroom and, for a brief time, sleep.
Galen’s caper of pure joy when the final defense lay behind him was a wonder to behold. Allysha thought he was going to hug her but she stepped away and he settled for taking her hands and shaking them violently. “Well done, Doctor,” she said. “Well done.” Certainly she shared his elation.
“And now… and now I can test…” His words trailed away with his glee. His eyes hooded again. “We must fetch Mister Tepich. Yes.” The little man lifted his comm unit.
Tepich arrived in record time. Had he run? He’d certainly hurried, puffing a little as he eased his bulk into the room. This must be an important victory.
“Well?” he asked, eyes on Galen.
“We have succeeded, Mister Tepich.” Galen’s eyes glittered, his body tense with excitement.
A slow smile spread across Tepich’s face as he drew in a deep breath. “Excellent. Will you need Miss Marten for anything else?”
“No. We will need to test—”
“Of course. I’ll make arrangements.” He spoke quickly, as if to stop Galen from saying more. “If you will come with me, Miss Marten. I can see you’re exhausted. Thank you for your efforts. I will see that you’re on your way home shall we say tomorrow or the day after? With your contract payment, of course.”
He positively hustled Allysha out the door, while her nerves prickled. A test. So this was it, this was what they wanted her for. Tepich took her to her room. “I’ll send Agnita along for you when dinner is ready.”
The door locked behind her, as usual.
She grabbed her techpack just in time to intercept Tepich’s call. ‘Deliver the subjects. As soon as you can. How long?’
‘I can have them on a ship in half an hour.’
‘Good.’
He’d called the El Dorado space station. Subjects, eh? So much for a database. Yet try as she might she could not imagine what that impressive security model was designed to protect. It was almost organic, changing and blocking her moves until she began to see how its designer had thought. Ah, well.
Chief Werensa’s humorless voice spoke in her mind.If there is truly nothing you can do, prepare yourself for the time when you can. She reviewed the base layout on her implant, made sure she could enter any module without being detected, then set to calm her mind, center herself. Breathe… in… out.
‘Ship’s approaching. Prepare for docking.’
Allysha roused at the words on her implant from the station controller’s office. This must be the subjects.
She watched the controller’s view screen as the shuttle approached. The airlock was empty. The other ship must have been moved to make room for the new arrival. It slowed and nosed gently forward between the cavern doors. Arms extended from the sides of the bay to catch the vessel and hold it steady. That done, the doors closed behind the stern. A green light lit up as soon as the seal was made and air began to flow into the vacuum.
The hatch opened.
Six soldiers wearing the drab brown uniform of the GPR climbed out, weapons in hand, and deployed to cover… what?
The first man out must have been important. He wore an elaborate robe and the soldiers saluted him.
Behind him came a number of other folk, animated and excited. They disappeared into the base but the soldiers remained.
People stumbled down the ramp. She counted. About ten? A mixture of ages a mixture of sexes. A couple of children, wide eyed and frightened, clutched the hands of adults. Their parents, probably. An older couple? It was hard to tell, sometimes, with Confederacy people. Were they Confederacy?
Allysha
used the techpack to poll for implants. Yes. One young woman carried a baby. What was this? What would they want with ordinary folk? A worm of alarm uncurled itself in her stomach.
The soldiers herded the people along like cattle, prodding them with what must have been nerve sticks.
One of the younger men tried defiance. A guard jabbed him and he staggered, lips stretched in pain. A couple of the soldiers laughed.
They pushed them along the corridor and into that strange, shielded room. Allysha shifted her surveillance to a sensor in the room above, the one with the transparent wall that offered a view down into the sealed room. Galen stood there, with Tepich and a group of other people, some the excited, animated folk who’d arrived on the ship. She scanned, matching faces to names. Senior engineers, doctors, all talking together. Even Tepich, who stood apart with the important new arrival, a man named Lomas Frensberg, fairly quivered with anticipation.
She split her vision between the observers and the participants. The people, the test subjects, gathered together in the sealed room, looking about them. The fear was almost palpable and if she was any judge, these folk had already been maltreated. They looked thin, exhausted, ragged. Where had they come from? How were they collected, like specimens for an experiment?
The babble from the control room overlooking the subjects died away. “Now is the proof. Now we see if we have succeeded,” Galen said. With exaggerated care, he pressed a button.
For a second, nothing changed. Then the people in the sealed room stiffened, eyes wide. Something had happened to them; all of them. Their legs crumpled and they fell to the floor, writhing and scre
aming. The screams ended abruptly. Ten contorted corpses lay on the floor, the faces twisted in pain. The baby looked like a broken doll, its tiny hands curled into fists. Allysha closed her eyes and forced down bile.
What had they done? How had they done it?
She searched the data flows, flicking through the functions. Here was the button. Push that and… she followed the logic. Here was the code she had created with Galen to circumvent that wonderful, complex
security. Here was the function to be inserted; triggers to overload the nervous system.
The horror slammed into her, a massive blow that had her gasping for air. That security function protected the implant in a human brain. She’d just taught these… these… fanatics how to circumvent it.
She broke the connection, their jubilant back-slapping and whoops of joy the last thing she heard.
ChapterThirty-One
Allysha clutched her stomach.Don’t be sick… don’t be sick . Her throat filled with acrid, burning vomit but she swallowed, forcing it down. No use to be sick. She had to think… think. She sagged, trembling, onto her bunk. A weapon to use against people, the Confederacy ‘machine men’. What a horrible irony, to use their advantage against them. But even so, how could they use such a weapon? Where? A crowded mall to cause a terrorist incident? Chaka had said they were terrorists. Or maybe they could sell
this thing to the ptorix? She dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came into her mind. No. They hated the ptorix even more than the Confederacy.
She had water in her room somewhere. With shaking hands she raised the bottle to her lips. Some dribbled down over her chin but she swallowed enough to wash away the foul taste. She had to know more. One more deep breath and she slid her mind back into the computer system.
The men in the laboratory—the observers—were still congratulating each other. She could hardly see Tepich’s eyes in the great rolls of skin that bunched up when he beamed. Galen stood next to Frensberg, introducing the other people; Professor this, Doctor that, all members of his team. Oh, yes, he assured Frensberg, he’d learned his lessons from the woman well. And he’d be sure to pass on his knowledge.
She squirmed. What had Chaka said? Don’t blame the death on the gun, it was the man who fired the weapon. Somehow it was a small consolation.
In the sealed room, attendants in isolation suits piled the bodies onto sleds. Just throwing them on, like dead animals. Men, women. The baby. Heads flopped, arms dangled. She wondered what they’d do with them.
Frensberg was speaking; she increased the sensitivity of the monitors.
“Now, how do you intend to deliver the…” he chuckled, “I suppose we could call it a death ray. I assume we’re not intending to herd victims into a closed room.”
A ripple of polite laughter. Laughter. She bared her teeth.
“We’ve devised a test, Your Excellency,” Tepich said. “The remaining subjects have been isolated in an uninhabited part of Buena Suerte. We have a geostationary satellite orbiting above the camp. Professor Doling has just left in the ship to test his broadcast procedure. If all goes according to plan…”
“Yes, I see,” Frensberg said, nodding. “A broadcast. Of sorts.”
A broadcast. The words roared in her ears. Every single planet in the galaxy had communications satellites, in many cases covering every inch of their surface. Implants were intended to pick up broadcast
signals. Just as well that signal was directed or she’d be as dead as those poor bastards on that sled.
She
had to stop them. She shifted her mind into the base systems. She could seal the airlock, stop them from getting the ship out. Too late. It was already beyond the doors, rotating away.
She groaned. Everything she’d done had turned out wrong. More people were going to die. Because of her. Despair pressed down on her shoulders. She had to get off this base, tell Vlad and Chaka. And come up with a way to defend against what she’d done.
The observers in the laboratory had drifted off into the base’s dining room to celebrate. Bottles appeared, glasses were poured and raised. Allysha checked the launch stats. It would be hours before they’d know for sure if what they’d done worked. But Allysha had no doubt it would.
A gentle click as the door unlocked, heralding Agnita’s appearance in the doorway. “I am to take you to the washroom and see if there is anything you require. Food? Drink?” Her voice was that of a barely polite jailer. The nerve stick now hanging in plain view from the tasseled belt at her waist reinforced the impression.
Allysha raised her eyebrows. “So I no longer have freedom to go to the toilet on my own?”
“Your work here is done. You will be leaving shortly.”
“Fine,” Allysha said, standing. The washroom was a good idea, anyway. She wanted a shower and to brush her teeth, anything to wash away the horror of what she’d seen.
She stood under the shower for a long time, letting the water flow down over her upturned face and body. Scenarios flitted through her mind. The best one she could think of was a planet like Kentor. Kill off the humans, the population would suddenly be predominantly ptorix. But what was the point? It simply offered an invitation to Anxhou to take over.
She didn’t understand. She just didn’t understand.
She dried herself and dressed. Her techpack was missing. She glanced around but it wasn’t on the small bench where she’d left it, tucked under clothes. “Agnita?”
The woman appeared, silent as a ghost.
“My techpack’s missing. It’s a box about this long—”
“You will not need it.”
True enough, but they obviously didn’t know that. “It’s mine. You have no right.” She injected some anger into her tone.
“You will not need it. Come.” She took the nerve stick off her belt and waved it.
Allysha made a pretense of cowering and allowed Agnita to return her to her room. A portable toilet now took up some of the floor space between the bunk and the wardrobe. A bottle of water and some food rations had been placed on the tiny bedside table. Agnita closed the door and locked it.
The food was the usual uninspiring slices of manufactured stuff. Mindful of her survival training, she ate it anyway. Who knew when she’d eat again? More and more, she wondered what they were going to do with her. As well she didn’t need those four hundred thousand credits. Because sure as eggs hatched, she
wasn’t going to get any of them.
****
Sean walked through the service corridor into the next passenger lounge. He’d have no more than a few minutes before they noticed he was gone. Perhaps they would just leave it be. They had Allysha, which was all they wanted. But he couldn’t rely on that. Tepich didn’t strike him as a forgiving sort. He walked purposefully, not running but a man with a place to go, all the while searching for a chance. He was lucky the place was crowded. He could switch and swerve and change direction and keep an eye on his surroundings.
A loud conversation nearby startled him but it was only four young lads talking excitedly about something. Probably the local sheer ball finals. They were demonstrating turns and overtaking with their hands, ignoring the bags at their feet. This would work better if he had an accomplice, but he didn’t so he’d have to do his best. He jostled past the lads, shouldering one of them into his companions.
They reacted, fists balled. “Idiot. Watch what yer doin’.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, hands held palms out. “Sorry, fellas. Didn’t mean anythin’. Had a few, know what I mean? Please. Din’t mean nothin’.”
Aggression melted into disgust. “Bugger off, schlonface.”
Sean stumbled away, kicking the bag a little further in front of him until he could bend to pick it up. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed the youth hadn’t even noticed his belongings had disappeared.
In the nearest washroom he examined his new prize. He could flush the wig he wore down the toilet. He hoped. A rummage through the b
ag revealed a reasonable looking jacket and a blue shirt. The fellow’s pants were too large for him. The shirt and jacket would have to do. Sean changed, shoved his discarded
clothing into the stolen bag, and toggled the ID function in his implant. Might as well return to being Jak Costaz.
Back in the lounge, he left the bag beside a chair and made his way to the ticket booth. “Sal Menoa, please.” Kentor’s capital was as good a place as any for a man on the run.
****
Carnessa turned gently in its stately dance around its sun, its three small moons in close attendance.
Saahren gazed down at the usual blue/green orb of a settled world. Now, not just the three moons circled the planet.Arcturus drifted in high orbit and around her, half a dozen other ships were carefully scattered to ensure a rapid deployment. Anxhou continued his waiting game. But he would attack here first; Saahren was sure of it. All the ptorix governor needed was an incident; an excuse.
Ullnish lay directly below the battle cruiser’s deliberately geostationary orbit, its lights just beginning to glow in the wake of the darkness now trailing its shroud across the surface. As often as he’d seen that sight on so many different worlds, it always fascinated him. Almost like a cloak, or a curtain.
And just over there, where the sunlight faded, was Shernish. “Arcturus, show me the university.”
The image expanded rapidly, then more slowly as sea and mountain disappeared off the edges of the view. He’d seen it before, of course, up closer than this. He’d been there, with her, to prevent the release
of the killer virus. Then, storms had lashed the city. Today, sunlight poured down on the ancient walled fortress on the hill, surrounded on three sides by the river. What a wonderful defensive position. Flags flew on the cones and spires, people of both species walked in the courtyards. Lobok Street wound around the walls, busy with traffic. Port Road meandered down the hill to the sea from the main entrance.
Xanthor lived in Port Road. He could even pick the roof and the roof of the house Allysha owned before
O’Reilly sold it from under her. But Allysha wasn’t there.Allysha; where are you? What’s happening to you?
The Iron Admiral: Deception Page 22