Dangerous Data (The Meridian Crew Book 2)

by Blake B. Rivers

  “How long till we’re in New York?” asked Amelia, her head rested on her hand as she sat in the captain’s chair, or, at least, the chair informally known as the captain’s chair.

  “Should be too long, at all!” said Sam. “Just need to put this thing through the atmosphere and we should be right there.”

  “You ever been to New York?” asked Benkei.

  “Just once,” said Amelia. “We did a black-ops mission on Manhattan during the lead-up to the Sector War. You remember the Illidium Tower explosion?”

  Benkei’s eyes widened. “That was you?” he asked.

  “Well, I wasn’t the only Geist on the assignment, but I was part of the team that set the charge.”

  “That was over fifteen years ago! You must’ve barely been a teenager.”

  “It was the day I turned thirteen, believe it or not,” said Amelia.

  “That’s one way to celebrate becoming a teen,” said Benkei.

  “I can’t believe they made you do jobs like that as such a young age,” said Sam. “When I was thirteen I was still scared of boys! I can’t imagine having to…kill people.”

  “They don’t really tell you what you’re doing,” said Amelia. “Well, by that age, you’re old enough to know, but not old enough to really understand.”

  “Unbelievable,” said Benkei.

  Before Amelia could respond, the window to the flight deck lit up with a brilliant wash of orange and yellow as the Meridian traveled through the atmosphere of Earth. The ship shook violently as they passed through, the flames only dissipating after thirty or so long seconds.

  And when it did, the screen was filled by the endless blue stretch of the Atlantic Ocean, the shimmering blue expanse going all the way to the horizon.

  “Where are we?” asked Amelia as Sam leveled the ship, still no sight of any land.

  “About twenty miles from the city,” said Sam. “Patience, patience.”

  “What about you, B?” Sam asked to Benkei. “You ever been to the city?”

  “Yes, once. I hated it,” he said, his tone suggesting that he wasn’t interested in explaining his opinion.

  “Ah, okay,” said Sam, before continuing as though someone had asked her. “Well, I haven’t. I’ve always dreamed of it, though. Imagine—finding love in the big apple.” She clasped her hands together, a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes as the ship dipped slightly.

  “Sam, eyes on the road, please,” said Benkei.

  “Sorry, sorry. When you grow up on a spaceship, you don’t really get to see much of the old world, you know? Anyway, there it is!”

  In the distance, the massive, towering super scrapers of New York began to peek over the horizon like the pointed tops of gleaming, glass trees. As they flew on, more and more of the city dominated the horizon, the towers of the city, some multiple thousands of feet tall, stretching into the sky as the Meridian grew closer. Soon, the moving lines of the air traffic could be seen among the impossibly tall buildings that sprouted from the ground level of Manhattan and reached all the way to the tip of the sky. The buildings weren’t uniform: some were straight and thin, others were curved and thick. Some gleamed like sunlit glass, others glowered and hunched. But all were enormous, colossal, gigantic, of such size that it was a wonder the island didn’t sink under their weight.

  And at around the midpoint between the ground level of the towers and the very tops, a dense interweaving of walkways and platforms made up what was functionally a second ground floor- what was known as “the canopy”. From this distance, it looked like a skyscraper set on its side and run through the skyline like a long, black blade.

  As they grew closer, the endless fleet of cargo ships that sailed in and out of the city began to dot the water below them, the massive super freighters sailing atop the water, enormous rectangles of white, red, and black. The air traffic began to increase in density, and Sam slowed the ship as they weaved in and out of it.

  Now, they were only a half a mile away, the dense cluster of towers on Manhattan occupying the entirety of the view screen. The enormous advertisements on the sides of the buildings were now visible- gaudy, multicolored ads for beer, tea, hamburgers, cars, electronics- everything. It was as though they were flying directly into the hyper-dense nucleus of capitalism. Soon, the towers began to block out the sun above, a dark wave covering the ship, the lights of the towers glittering, the endless crisscrossing traffic between the buildings visible.

  “Quite the place,” said Benkei. “Looks like the war never found it.”

  “Yeah, amazing what not being flattened by colonist bombs can do for a supercity,” Amelia said.

  “We there yet?” piped in Sasha’s voice. “I could really go for a slice if we are.”

  Amelia chose not to respond.

  “What’s our destination?” asked Benkei.

  “Uh, ninth and fifty-seventh, looks like,” said Amelia, flipping through the data in her slate.

  “Ninth and fifty-seventh it is,” said Sam, flying the Meridian into an incoming stream of air traffic that coiled outwards from the island.

  And as soon as they merged into it, they came to a stop, the sounds of horns blaring and drivers yelling out of windows audible even through the flight deck glass.

  “Now, this is what I don’t miss about cities,” said Benkei.

  “Guess we’re gonna be here for a while,” said Amelia, looking forward through the endless skyline, the flight deck window filled with the traffic and the towers beyond, her eyes settling on a massive, animated advertisement on the side of one of the towers of a fresh-faced kid chomping down happily on a cookie, the three-second loop of the ad playing over and over.

  They lurched forward in traffic, the ocean below giving way to the canopy. Looking down, Amelia watched pedestrians hurry here and there, small dots moving through wheeled traffic and green squares of parks.

  After an hour in traffic, they arrived at their destination, an impossibly tall luxury tower of brilliant blue glass and soft curves that extended high into the azure sky above, even beyond the lowest tufts of clouds.

  “That’s it?” asked Sam, jumping from her seat and scanning the tower through the flight deck window.

  Amelia’s eyes narrowed in skepticism as she flipped through the slate.

  “Yeah, that’s us,” she said. “Apartment 322F.”

  “Our client’s pulling out all the stops for us, it seems.”

  “We at the pizza place yet?” asked Sasha.

  Sam pulled up and out of traffic, scaling the tower and landing at the building’s dock closest to their floor, the luxury and design of the interior striking the crew even more intensely due to their recent time at Icarus. A staff of smartly-dressed employees attended to the ship, bringing them in and to a halt. The crew packed up their belongings and headed off the ship and into the dock.

  “Welcome to Four-Hundred-Fifty-Seven,” spoke a pleasant, female voice over the dock’s PA system. “The premiere Fifty-Seventh Street luxury apartment.”

  Amelia looked around the clean, sleek interior of the place, something about the stark white walls, low, clear lighting, and chipper staff setting her teeth on edge.

  “Well,” said Benkei. “Let’s find our room, shall we?”

  CHAPTER 9

  The safehouse apartment was just as luxurious as the rest of the building led the crew to believe. It was a large, circular room with a recessed floor in the middle ringed by a circular couch, the windows of the space beholding a spectacular view onto the city beyond.

  “Sky view,” said Benkei, standing next to the window and looking up at the cloudless sky above. “That about doubles the price right there.”

  “Wait, so is that guy meeting us here?” asked Sam, plopping down on the couch and sitting with her legs crossed under her.

  “He just said the details would be ‘made known’ once we got into town, whatever that means,” said Sasha, fiddling with the computer near the door, bringing up some kind of menu.
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br />   But before they could wonder for long, the black, curving display along the back wall lit up with the image of Geff.

  “There you are,” he said. “I trust the trip into the city was uneventful?”

  “Aside from traffic,” said Amelia.

  “We’re ready to begin?” he asked.

  “Ready as we’re gonna be,” said Amelia, taking a seat.

  “Good,” Geff said. “So, the job.”

  The screen filled with the image of a tall, beige and black tower in what appeared to be Lower Manhattan.

  “This is the Amano Tower, one of the newest additions to the city skyline, and home to some of the most advanced research facilities in the solar system.”

  The picture shifted from a faraway shot to a schematic cross-section of the building, zooming in on a particular floor.

  “The job is a simple heist. You’ll be going undercover as a team of scientists. I have faked documentation in the apartment, as well as providing suitable clothing, and you’ll be in the building’s database for twenty-four hours, starting tomorrow at nine a.m.. Once in, it should be a simple matter of extracting the data and making your way back to the safe house.”

  “Simple matter, huh?” asked Benkei.

  “I don’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be,” said Geff.

  “Then why the high price tag for the mission?” asked Amelia.

  “The value of the data, of course, and the matter that while the infiltration should be simple, as I said, the facility is a New York government research lab, as much as New York has as government, that is.”

  Before he could continue, the doorbell sounded a pleasant, mellow chime through the apartment.

  He opened the door to reveal a pizza delivery drone. Taking the red and white box, he shut the door behind him, flipped open the lid, and scooped up a slice, a drool of melted cheese, pineapple, and bacon dripping from the pie.

  “I brought enough for everyone,” he said.

  “Ugh, Hawaiian?” asked Sam. “No, thanks.”

  “Anyway,” said Amelia.

  “Anyway,” said Geff. “As I said, your equipment is all in the apartment. Get a good night’s rest, and be prepared to be at the facility at nine a.m..”

  With that, the screen went black once more, it’s curved surfaced reflecting a warped image of the buildings and sky visible through the window.

  “I surely can’t be the only one who thinks that there’s much more to our client and this mission than he’s letting on,” said Benkei, picking the pineapple from a slice of pizza.

  “No doubt about that,” said Amelia.

  “Huh?” asked Sasha, a folded slice of pizza halfway into his mouth.

  “So, we’re just going to do what he says, then?” asked Sam.

  “As long as he’s paying us, then we’re doing the mission,” said Amelia. But as she looked out of the apartment window at the towers beyond, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the best move to make would be to bail right now.

  “Come on, Am,” said Sasha, picking up Benkei’s discarded pineapple chunks and gathering them in his scooped hand. “Food’s getting cold.”

  “Hawaiian? No, thanks.”

  CHAPTER 10

  As the team approached the target tower in the sleek, jet black car provided for them, Amelia couldn’t help but notice how different it was to just about every other building in the city. Whereas the towers around them were made of glimmering glass that caught the sky above, the smooth curving shapes of the luxury towers and office buildings were built for beauty, this building, a stocky, thick building of beige super concrete and black rows of windows, seemed to be built for function, possibly even defense.

  Sam flew the car, one of the building’s docks her destination, the rush hour traffic of the city whizzing around them, the faces of the team strobing with the lights of the advertisements and screens with the news updates delivered by smart-faced talking heads on the buildings around them. Looking up, Amelia could see that the sky was darkening with a gray overcast of thick, billowing clouds.

  “Approaching vehicle, please present identification now,” said the uniformed man on the car’s screen, his jaw strong and square, his eyes obscured by a black half-mask.

  “Sending now,” said Amelia.

  She tugged at the form-fitting white jumpsuit, feeling uncomfortable in the clothing provided for them. White wasn’t exactly her color. Looking over at Benkei, she saw that he was nearly bursting out of his own jumpsuit, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric as he reached up to adjust his small, black ponytail.

  “You okay over there, big man?” asked Amelia.

  “This wouldn’t be my choice of attire for a day out, but you make do with what you can,” he said.

  “Credentials cleared,” said the guard. “Have a nice day.”

  “Easy enough,” said Sasha, sitting in a languid position, his leg crooked close to his body.

  “Why don’t we wait until the job’s done before we start with that?” said Amelia.

  Sam flew the car into the dock and slid into the parking stall nearest to the exit.

  “For a quick getaway, you know?” she said, a wide smile on her fair face.

  The four of them got out of the car, making the small drop to the floor of the dock. After passing through another security checkpoint, the group entered a black hall lined with fluorescent lights that led to the main floor.

  “Sash, you’re the actual scientist here, so if anyone asks us any, you know, science-y questions, you take the lead.”

  “Sure, of course, but just so you know, my scientific expertise is mostly theoretical, dealing with the effects of jump space on long-range tachyons under—”

  “Yeah, just like that,” said Amelia, cutting him off.

  The hallway concluded in a circular, back door ringed with azure light. Looking in the corner, Amelia spotted a small security sensor that scanned the four of them. Anxiety welled in the pit of Amelia’s stomach for a moment before a small green light to the right of the door illuminated, the door hissing open.

  The room beyond was a large, stark white laboratory with multiple tiers, all visible from where the four companions stood as they walked in. The place had a clean, almost antiseptic smell to it, and the air was cool and sterile. Scientists in white jumpsuits which matched what the group was wearing milled here and there, with many of them at large computers of clear glass, looking over charts and graphs of various sorts.

  “Where to?” asked Sam.

  Amelia slipped out the slate that was in the pocket of the suit when she put it on.

  “Second floor,” she said. “Room fifty B.”

  The group filed up the stairs, their higher position giving them a higher view of the sweep of the facility. Amelia watched the guards that were posted here and there with careful eyes. Their faces as impassive and anonymous as the one who allowed them to land. Each of them was armed with a caseless rifle, which she noted as advanced, expensive equipment.

  “Quite the gear these guards have,” said Benkei.

  “Just what I was thinking,” Amelia said. “I guess when you’re trying to state an independent city-state in in a world everyone’s itching to conquer you, you don’t skimp on the military gear.”

  “I’m curious about the New York fleet,” said Benkei. “Supposed to be one of the most advanced in the system.”

  The group reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hallway, making their way closer to the room where they were to download the data.

  “Now, according to this, the room is a data storage area, meaning it should be empty,” said Amelia. “They can still watch us through cameras, but we shouldn’t have to deal with any scientists or guards.”

  The reached room forty-five B, and as the door slid open, Amelia’s mouth slacked when she saw that it was far, far from empty. Rather, there was a meeting going on, and dozens of scientists were packed into the small space. At the front of the room was a pair of scientists
giving a speech, a holographic display illuminated in front of them. They ceased speaking as soon as the group opened the door, Amelia and the rest looking around the room with wide-eyed expressions.

  “Oh, hello,” said one of the scientists at the front of the room, a thin-limbed man with a bald head. “Please take a seat wherever you like. We’ve only just begun.”

  The group exchanged looks, and with a shrug, Amelia and the rest of them entered, Sam waving happily to the crowd as they crossed the threshold.

  But as soon as Sasha entered, all eyes of the crowd, and those of the speakers in front went to him, a few gasps rising from the audience like small steam bursts.

  “Is that?’

  “Can’t be.”

  “He hasn’t been seen in public in…years!”

  “Dr. Vasiliev!” said the other woman on the stage, an older woman with a whorl of white hair on her head.

  “Oh, hi, everyone,” said Sasha, a small blush of red appearing on each of his high cheekbones.

  “This is quite the honor,” said the first scientist on stage. “We had no idea that there would be a guest of your caliber at our quarterly meeting. We apologize for the speaking room. Our usual venue is being renovated.”

  Amelia shot a look to Sasha that screamed, “just go with it”. Sasha stumbled for a moment, gathering his bearings, before responding. Looking over the crowd, Amelia noticed the faces of the women scientists in the crowd who all seemed to be looking at Sasha with the same enraptured gaze.

  “Well, I’m honored to be a guest,” he said.

  “Dr. Vasiliev,” said the woman. “We would be honored if you would take a moment to tell us about some of your latest research.”

  “Yes,” said the man. “Your recent study on the longitudinal distribution of tachyons under stellar gravitonic pressure was the talk of the lab for weeks!”

  Amelia shot him another look.

  “Oh, sure, okay,” Sasha said. “But just for a few moments. My friends and I were actually here to get some data, so I can chat for a little bit while they gather that.”