“I’ll…”
“Don’t take this personally, but I’m forty years younger and a hell of a lot faster. Not to mention that most of the little safeguards I put in are built for one person to use, not two. Stay here and cover me on the monitors, and keep an eye on what the shuttle is doing. I don’t know what maniac is flying today, but if they have any other tricks up their sleeve, let me know. I’d hate to take this risk for nothing.”
Frowning, he asked, “If all of your hacks were designed only for one, why was this hideout built for two?”
“Because I’d expected to have a friend with me, and that is all you get to know. Keep me informed.”
Pulling herself out into the shaft, leaving the confused Tramiel behind, she snatched a datapad from a hidden compartment and tapped a control, climbing up to the next deck. With luck, no-one would have noticed the alterations she’d made to the security subroutines, and she would effectively be invisible to internal sensors and monitors.
As she rolled out into the nearest corridor, she heard footsteps approaching, and looked around, trying to find a place to hide. All the trickery she could employ wouldn’t defeat the Mark One Eyeball, and she frantically dashed into an empty cabin, closing the door behind her, hoping that the approaching figure wasn’t returning to her quarters.
After a moment, the footsteps passed, and she cautiously left the room, pressing on to her destination. She still didn’t really trust Tramiel. While she could do everything she wanted from Auxiliary Control, it was a little obvious. The command monitors in the Captain’s Cabin would do just as well for what she wanted, and it was far less likely that she would be interrupted.
Naturally, she was on the far side of the ship from her destination, and she made her way down the corridor as rapidly as she could, constantly alert for signs that anyone was following her, sensing eyes boring into her back from all sides. She glanced at her datapad, checking the ship’s security status, and gathered a measure of relief. They were on alert, but focused entirely on the shuttle ahead, not on an internal threat. Unless someone had detected her hacking, and was already heading towards her. Not a thought she savored.
The cabin was unguarded, and the security lock was laughably easy to manipulate, the door sliding open in a matter of seconds. Inside, the room was a ransacked mess, the contents of Ryder’s shelves scattered around the floor or hastily thrown into a pair of plastic crates on the desk. The bed was rumpled, unmade, and a half-eaten meal was congealing on the chair next to it, some sort of nauseating garlic-based concoction.
Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she pushed one of the crates to one side, pulling out the terminal. Entering the room had been easy, but infiltrating the command functions would be far more difficult. She cursed when she hit the first level of firewall, recognizing the program instantly as one she had written a year ago, which had yet to be rolled out to the Fleet. Someone had gone in and closed her back-doors, and she now had only a few moments to defeat a program she had spent two months working on.
At least that meant she knew where to start. She glanced up at the clock, shaking her head. Four minutes before the shuttle was destroyed and all of this became pointless. There was a fast way and a safe way to hack into the systems, and given the countdown, it really wasn’t a choice. Alarms instantly began to sound as she smashed her way in, disregarding the detection systems, and after only a few seconds, she heard footsteps outside, a rhythmic pounding on the door.
She wasted a second glancing across at the door. The lock would hold for a while, but as soon as some cutting equipment was brought in, she’d be caught. Another example of cost-cutting at work. Had she been on Alamo...but she dismissed that thought with a shake of the head, and got back to her job.
The navigational controls were a tangle of confusing lines and commands, nothing she even pretended to understood. There was no way to lock out the bridge from here, for that she would have needed the facilities of auxiliary control, but she could certainly start to issue commands, and as soon as the green light of a stable connection winked on, she started to push every control in sight.
Silence briefly reigned on the ship as the engine paused for a second, the helmsman managing to restart it. Already she could see her options becoming limited as someone up on the bridge began to counter her work, but another combination of commands sent her rolling to the side as the ship tumbled on its thrusters, tipping and rolling, threatening to throw the ship into a dangerous spin.
There was no way to tell whether or not she had done enough to do the job. All she could do was continue to work for as long as she could, and as the whine of a cutter began to sound, she frantically queued control sequences, hoping that at least she would be able to leave a legacy of chaos behind her.
The door burst open, and she tapped a button to activate the remainder of her mayhem, turning with her arms folded to watch Steele and two other crewmen burst in, all of them with rifles pointed at her.
“Impressive reaction time,” Harper replied. “Not good enough, though.”
Steele pushed past her, throwing her against the wall, while one of the others slapped hand restraints on her, the other searching for weapons.
“What did you do?” Steele asked, looking up from the console.
“I honestly don’t know,” Harper replied. “Nothing good, I hope.”
Entering a series of commands, Steele pulled out a communicator and said, “It’s over. I have the terminal locked down, and she’s in custody. I’m bringing her up.” Turning to face her, she said, “You’re going to the bridge.”
“I’ve already seen it,” she replied. “Wasn’t that impressed.”
“Take her,” Steele said, leading the way down the corridor towards the elevator. Harper kept a steady pace, a smile on her face to mask the tension she was feeling. Capture might have been inevitable, but that didn’t mean she was happy about it.
The ride to the bridge was quiet, all eyes on her, as though the guards expected that she would find some way to leap out of her bonds and attack them. She looked at Steele, shaking her head, trying and failing to find some trace of the woman she’d known back on Alamo.
“I’m sure Laura Zabek would be proud of you for all of this,” she said, Steele’s eyes widening at the comment.
“What do you know about it?”
“Struck a nerve, have I? How do you think she would feel about you betraying everything you believed in, everything you stood for.”
Raising her rifle, Steele said, “Keep quiet, or I’ll tell Kline that you were attempting to escape.”
“In an elevator?”
The door opened, and the group stepped out onto the bridge. A trajectory plot was displayed on the viewscreen, and Harper smiled as she saw the course now showed the shuttle easily escaping to the surface, well out of range of Wyvern’s particle beams. Kline was sitting in the command chair, and beckoned for her to come in, Steele sliding into the vacant tactical station.
“It worked, then,” he began.
Shaking her head, Harper said, “If that was a ruse, it was a damn clumsy one. You don’t have the high ground here, so stop trying to pretend that you do. Given that you’ve got two rifles on me, I don’t see why you think you need to try and place yourself in a position of strength.” Raising her chained hands, she added, “Though you have successfully trapped me, so I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“Not to mention your friends on the surface.”
“Who in fairly short order will, I suspect, have rescued the loyal crewmen of this ship,” she glared at Steele again, who looked down at her station, red-faced, “and be returning to Alamo.”
“Oh, they might succeed against our garrison,” Kline said, “I’ll grant that much to you. Given that we are now in orbit, though, I don’t think there is much chance that they will get back out into space again. I can pick them off at my leisure
.”
“All this for a few credits?”
“It doesn’t have to be that way, not if you can convince Alamo’s commander to see reason. If we are permitted to leave the system, then I will happily allow Alamo, the crew of Wyvern, and everyone else to peacefully remain. You can even have the base and its garrison, with my complements.”
“Meaning bigger shares for those of you on board,” she replied.
Leaning forward, he said, “I’d be willing to give you an equal share, also. In exchange for your co-operation. Otherwise, I suspect the consequences of your actions will be grave. Doubtless there will be many people happy to pay to have an agent of Triplanetary Intelligence delivered into their hands. You presumably have many secrets to tell.”
“Very well, I’ll speak to her.”
“It’s a trick,” Steele said.
Shaking her head, Harper said, “I know too much to fall into enemy hands. Don’t expect me to go along with your treachery too far, but I might be able to convince Maggie to do the right thing.”
“Give her a headset, Bacalov,” Kline said, and the communications technician passed it across, one of the guards sliding it onto her head. “Can we use a time delay?”
Shaking his head, Bacalov replied, “Not if you want them to be sure the transmission is genuine.”
“Then be ready to cut the channel the instant she says something I disapprove of.”
“On it,” he replied, holding a finger over a control. “You’re on, Lieutenant.”
“Harper to Alamo Actual. Come in, please.”
“Harper?” Orlova’s voice replied, instantly. “What’s happening?”
“Wyvern has the planet below interdicted, and is threatening to destroy the shuttles as they take off. They’ve offered to turn over the garrison below and take no further hostile action should you permit them to leave the system. I am also being held as a hostage. Apparently, they plan to sell me off to the highest bidder.”
“Damn,” Orlova replied. “Harper, I…”
“Take the bastards down, Maggie, top priority!”
Bacalov slapped the control, and looked at Kline with alarm on his face. One of the guards tore the headset away, sending her staggering to the side.
“I told you!” Steele said. “She’s a fanatic!”
“You don’t have any intention of letting Alamo live through this,” Harper said. “I know all about the little secret in Storage Three, and I know that you are planning to sell it off. Even if the Confederation doesn’t make the high bid. Or perhaps you are thinking of holding it as a Sword of Damocles over our heads for a while. It doesn’t matter.”
“You’ve just condemned your crewmates to death,” Kline said, matter-of-factly. “We almost destroyed Alamo last time, and we can gun down your friends on the surface at our leisure. I would have been happy to settle for more prisoners, even let you return home.”
“If you’re going to kill me, Kline, please use a bullet and stop trying to talk me to death.”
“Oh, you aren’t going to die, Lieutenant. I intend to sell you along with everything else, to the highest bidder. With a little luck, that will be the Confederation. Meaning that you get to live with what you have done here today, knowing that you are the one who has killed your friends.”
A smile on her face, she said, “Neither of us are going to be there to see it, Kline. Betting against Margaret Orlova in battle is not a wise choice. Alamo is going to soar down like an avenging angel and send you, me, and everyone else on this ship straight to hell, and I’m going to have a front-row seat for the fun.”
“Maybe. Though I doubt it.” Looking at the guard, he said, “Take her to the holding cell.”
“Threat warning!” Steele said. “Alamo’s on the move, direct heading, right for us. Estimated intercept in twenty-nine minutes.”
“Get her out of here!” Kline said, turning back to the screen. “Battle stations.”
The guard pushed her into the elevator, the door slamming shut as it began to take them down to their destination. She might not live through the battle to come, but at least she had the satisfaction that she was likely to win it.
“We could head for an escape pod,” she said. “I could offer amnesty if you helped me get away.”
“Shut up,” the guard said, the doors sliding open.
“You should have listened,” Tramiel said, bringing a baton down on his head, the guard crumpling to the floor. “She was speaking sense.”
Raising an eyebrow, Harper said, “Security lockdown will be in effect all across the ship, and I’m guessing they’ll be on to us pretty soon. We won’t be able to hack into any of the control computers again.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. We’re going to Storage Three.”
Instantly, she realized what he had in mind, and nodded agreement. “Nothing like going out in a blaze of glory, I guess. Lead the way, Commodore.”
Chapter 19
“Listen up,” Salazar said. “We’re going to have to make a run for the submarine lock. There are three shuttles waiting on the surface to take us all up to Alamo.” Looking at the nervous crew, the sullen Tarrant standing in the corner, he continued, “I’ll take up the rear. Lombardo, I want you to take point. We need the fastest route to where we’re doing, preferably sticking to the corridors.”
“We’ll have to cross at least one dome,” he replied. “That’s all, though.”
“Everyone make sure they have a revolver with one round in the chamber. Those not carrying stretchers get the bulk of the ammunition.”
“What the hell can we do with one round?” Fitzroy asked.
Gesturing at the mangled corpse of Trent, Salazar replied, “Use your imagination.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “We take our wounded with us, but if someone falls along the way, don’t wait for them. Just keep going.”
“We should leave the stretchers behind,” Tarrant said. “The Espatiers can recover them later.”
“Unless you are volunteering to guard them, the answer is no,” Salazar said. “We’ll take the wounded we have with us. Everyone stick together as best you can.” Glancing around, he said, “No point waiting any longer. Open the door, Lombardo. Let’s get this over with.”
Tarrant looked as though he was going to protest again, but as the door swung open, he followed the rest of the group, cautiously making their way along the corridors, Lombardo in the lead with a wary Ortega behind him. Salazar took a last look around the room, at the sight of the battle, before following the trail, his pistol in his hand.
The first howl came after they turned a corner, the dome out of sight, and immediately everyone started to speed up, a widening gap opening between the leading group and the stretcher party. Salazar tried to work out where it came from, but with all the echoes, it was impossible. The faint hope that they might have defeated all of the creatures was dashed, and with it, their hopes of an easy escape disappeared.
“Get moving!” Salazar said. “Keep going forward!”
As a second howl echoed around the corridors, some of the crewmen began to sprint, two of them moving past Lombardo, who waved his hands in attempt to keep them behind him. Ignoring him, they darted around a corridor.
“Let them go,” Salazar said.
“They’re heading the wrong way,” Lombardo said.
Shaking his head, he replied, “There’s nothing we can do.”
Turning to the left, they came to another door, which slid open to reveal a hot, fetid swamp, strange creatures running around inside, a low, ominous hum coming from within. The group paused for a moment, but another howl convinced them to move. A series of gunshots echoed from down the corridor, followed by a final, desperate scream, and they hurried through into the muck, the door closing behind them.
He could feel the ooze running over his boots, squelching in the mud as they s
taggered forward. Lombardo was keeping a lead, the pace slow by necessity, the group clumping together. There was a crack from the rear, followed by an embarrassed glimpse from Ortega. An insect buzzed around Salazar’s head, jabbing him in the neck before he could slap it away.
“Isn’t there any other way?” he yelled.
“This is the fastest. Cuts out a quarter-mile of corridors.” Lombardo gestured ahead, and said, “Door’s only a few minutes on.”
Behind them, a loud rumbling noise heralded the arrival of one of the creatures, and he turned to see a beast leaping through the opening door, charging across the ground, sending splatters of fetid mud through the air as it raced towards the group. Three of the stretchers dropped to the ground as the bearers tried to save themselves, heading in every direction, while Salazar turned to stand and fight, Tarrant by his side.
“Hold your ground!” he yelled, before lining up a shot at the creature, still charging right for him. Taking a deep breath to steady his hand, he fired, cursing as it bounced off the creature’s armor. Tarrant’s shot was true, and the beast collapsed to the ground.
With a quick nod, Salazar turned around, yelling, “Get back here, damn it! The beast is dead!”
Shame-faced, the panicked crewman started to return, but a trio of howls from ahead sent them scattering again, a brief, and futile barrage of shots preceding the creatures tearing into the leading group, Lombardo tossed to the ground by one of them, the sound of bones cracking against rock as he fell on his side.
Salazar dived for the nearest stretcher, tossing its load over his shoulder and sprinting for the exit. He felt a hand throwing him aside, sending him diving into the mud, and turned to see Tarrant snatched by a creature, the traitor giving his life to save him. Salazar’s gun was missing, but the time to fight was over.
“With me!” he yelled, and he raced for the exit, hoping that some of the others would follow him. Ortega was by his side, dragging a stretcher behind her, and somehow Lombardo had managed to get back on his feet, urging the crew on. One by one, they started to drop, sliding into the mud as the creatures ripped into them.
Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues Page 15