Guardians of Eden
Page 8
He was buttoned up in a textured three-piece suit atop a crisp white cotton shirt, with a blue striped tie, brown leather belt and matching leather shoes. To call it uncomfortable would have been putting it far too lightly. His movement was horribly restricted, to the point where his arms and legs felt as though they were in desperate need of some oil. His waist and throat were squeezed so tightly that he could hardly tell if he was still breathing.
The shoes were even worse than the rest. Whoever thought it was a good idea to fit a foot inside a rigid, triangular-fronted shoe? He could already feel the build-up of sweat in his soles and his toes were already going numb from the constriction of the pointed fronts. He might only have been stood there a matter of seconds, but he was immediately wondering how long he was going to be forced to wait. Already he just wanted to get it all over with so he could be reunited with his combat suit.
Just when he was questioning his resolve he was finally put out of his misery as O’Brien stepped out of the cruiser behind him. He opened his mouth ready to express his self-pity but as he turned around his words stuck in his throat.
O’Brien was dressed in a long, emerald green gown with a wide black belt clamped tightly around her waist and a matching short, open jacket to cover her arms. Her hair had been let down and delicately curled so that it flowed elegantly over her shoulders, while her parting had been adjusted for perfect separation. Bold, dark eyeliner intensified the colour of her eyes which glistened like newly polished gems and subtle red gloss breathed new life into her lips.
Owyn was dumbstruck. He was hardly able to believe the transformation. In contrast, O’Brien was less impressed by his makeover. “You look ridiculous,” she said bluntly, specifically targeting his side swept hair, laced with so much gel that it glinted in the sunlight.
“You’re telling me,” he said, tugging at his tie to try to ease the pressure on his throat. “What’s even the point in this thing?”
O’Brien shook her head. “Don’t start whining at me, Carter. You won’t get any sympathy.”
“I’m not whining, relax. I was just asking a question – I can’t see why people carried on wearing this crap after modern clothes were invented.”
As she stepped down onto Owyn’s level he noticed his height rapidly diminishing. He usually stood an inch or two taller, but O’Brien was now towering high above him, making him feel a little more embarrassed to be stood beside her. “Are you sure you can walk on those?” he asked, his eyes widening at the huge pillars beneath her heels.
“I’ve managed before.”
“Really?” He was genuinely surprised, but O’Brien wasn’t about to let the conversation go any further.
“Let’s get moving. I’d rather not spend any longer standing around looking like this with men like you gawping at me.”
Owyn activated his comms. “We’re good to go, Sully.”
“Copy that. Moving on to the estate,” he responded.
Owyn pulled his comms device from his ear and dropped it back inside the ship. Going undercover meant radio silence – a welcome relief from Miller’s ear. “Let’s go,” he told O’Brien as the cruiser lifted off from the rooftop and disappeared back into the forest.
After dodging past a few inquisitive looks from passers by the pair arrived at the fountain, under which a staircase led them down to an elevator. Just a few seconds later they had dropped from floor 343 to 100 and reached the building’s LightLine station.
Despite being flooded with wave after wave of racing office workers and business people the station somehow managed not to feel at all crowded or hectic. Even as thousands of people converged on just a few dozen vacant pods there was barely any holdup and not a hint of conflict. It was clear evidence of civilisation working exactly as it had been designed, with precision and efficient fluidity.
The door of the pod closed as soon as both Owyn and O’Brien had taken their seats inside. Between them a holographic map interface appeared, presenting them with an extensive selection of locations all around the city. Owyn sat with a mystified expression for no more than a couple of seconds before O’Brien spared him the embarrassment and took charge, navigating her way through the display to a list of nearby stations before selecting Rodriguez’ estate.
For a relatively confined space, the pod’s interior had a rather expansive feel. There was a crescent shaped, cushioned seat on either side, each with room for three, and shortly after departure a small table arose between them. When travelling at such high speeds there was the expectation that the huge forces would be hard to stomach, but artificial gravity again neutralised them entirely. The other advantage of its use was that the LightLine could run vertically up and down building sides, saving valuable airspace for other modes of transport.
Now that he was idle Owyn’s discomfort was continuing to grow, and he soon found himself again tugging at his tie, skewing it further to one side.
O’Brien couldn’t restrain her irritation any longer. “Pull yourself together, Carter. Please. You aren’t going to pull this off looking like you’ve never worn a tie before.”
“Sorry to disappoint you but I haven’t, so it’s hard to make it look like I have. Why the fuck would I ever want to?” Owyn complained as he continued to struggle.
O’Brien sighed. “Untie it.”
“What?”
“Untie it,” she repeated.
Dejected, he pulled apart his rugged knot. O’Brien sighed again before leaning forwards and intricately plaiting his tie, leaving it ever so slightly loose around his neck. She then righted his wilting jacket before slouching back into her seat. Owyn inspected the knot with intrigue as he became ever more bemused by O’Brien’s peculiar talents.
“Whatever that was between you and Shaw needs dealing with,” she said, quickly changing the subject so to draw Owyn away from any more questions.
“How do you expect that’s going to happen? If he still hasn’t let it go after all these years it isn’t going to be that easy, especially now he’s got Miller back on his side.” Owyn wasn’t overly pleased with O’Brien’s choice of conversation either.
“Nobody’s taking sides. Miller just wants to get the job done. Same as the rest of us.”
“Really? You think I’m going to believe that? He wants me to suffer and it isn’t only affecting me. Have you seen Sully lately? Miller isolated him from the team and it’s killing him. It isn’t fair.”
“I don’t care what you believe, and I don’t care whether you think it’s fair. It doesn’t matter. This is a military organisation, not summer camp. It’s not supposed to be fair. You’re going to need to swallow it eventually so why not get on with it? Acting like a spoilt brat isn’t going to achieve anything. Miller’s here now. Ambrose is gone. That’s how it is, whether you like it or not. Quit wishing for change and deal with it.”
Owyn sighed. “You can’t honestly say it doesn’t bother you,” he said, losing the sharp edge from his voice.
“What difference would it make if it did? We have a duty to do our job whatever happens, and that’s what I intend to do.” The pod reached its stop and the doors slid open to signal their arrival. “Now come on. Don’t lose focus.” O’Brien stood up and stepped out while Owyn lingered a moment.
“Duty,” he muttered to himself. Did that word even mean anything anymore? It seemed to him as though it was becoming nothing more than an excuse.
Eventually he forced himself to his feet. He and O’Brien stood side by side and looked up towards the light casting down from the top of the stairs. O’Brien hooked her arm over his and allowed him to lead her up.
CHAPTER 7
THE ESTATE
15:55 August 1, 2049 – Rodriguez Estate, Kyvos
Shaw straightened his jacket and climbed out of the cruiser to join Lieutenant Miller. As Sully disembarked once again they crossed the grass from the dock onto the main gravel path.
Guests were just beginning to arrive at the entry to the estate but the majority
of the grounds were peaceful and quiet but for a few service staff carrying food and drink to and from the main house. Here, the city was lost. Birdsong filled the air, drowning out the surrounding noise, and verdant green covered everything as far as the eye could see. Neatly trimmed hedges lined the wide gravel track while grand oak trees hung their branches overhead, swaying in a gentle breeze.
At the distant end of the path rose the gates to the rooftop estate. It was a brick-for-brick replica of an original pre-war design which had first been constructed as an English country house before being twice re-imagined; first as the Rodriguez family home in Spain, and then again here in Kyvos once the previous incarnation had been reduced to rubble.
The mansion loomed high above the gates with red-bricked walls and a garnish of crisp white stone carved into intricate patterns which edged the doors and windows. White pillars that spanned all four storeys supported a silver slated roof from which five brick chimneys protruded at regular intervals.
Miller led the way as the pair began the long march towards the gates. “We need that green light, Sullivan.”
“Just a few more seconds, and… Got it. You’re in.” He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good work.” Miller then turned his attention to Shaw. “I’d say this beats crawling through rubble and corpses on a daily basis,” he said. “You’ve really had it good out here, even if you do spend most of your time trapped inside that tin can in the middle of space.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, long breath of the pure Kyvos air.
“We have, yeah. What I still don’t understand is how the hell you got here. It doesn’t bother me, but I find it hard to believe they’d choose you to replace Ambrose.”
Miller ought to have been surprised – this must have been the first time in the nine years since they’d first worked together that Shaw had ever questioned him. “Is it really that hard to believe that I proved myself to be suitable? A year after you and Carter left I was recruited into the DPD. A few months ago the vacancy at ISO became available and a number of officers were taken into consideration. I was the final choice. It’s as simple as that.”
Shaw bit back once again. “They knew they needed you months ago yet Ambrose left without giving us any warning? Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve got no formal ISO training and have made it as difficult as possible for anyone to ask questions since the minute you showed up. There’s more behind it than that. It’s never that simple.”
“Fucking hell Shaw, this planet really has changed you. You sound like Carter for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing behind it and you aren’t going to get anything from thinking there is. Stop talking out of your ass and get your head straight.”
“However naïve and childish he is, Carter’s a good soldier, whatever you think of him. Without him this team wouldn’t be what it is, not that I’d let him hear it.”
Miller nodded, slightly to Shaw’s surprise. “He is. And a good man too. But that doesn’t mean shit in the world we live in.”
“We don’t live in that world any more, Cap’. He didn’t belong with us on Earth, but Altaris isn’t the shithole Earth turned into.”
“You really believe this place is any different? The same bunch of pricks are still in charge and they’ll have us back down the same hole soon enough. Nothing’s changed, and that’s why Carter doesn’t belong here either. As good of a soldier as he is, his naivety is too big of a weakness. He’s too hell bent on fantasies of compassion and morality. Loyalty is what matters in war, not good will. Victory – whatever the odds – is what matters. If I can’t trust my men to do their jobs then they’re a liability and I have every right to throw them out into the storm.”
“Then why didn’t you? If you distrusted him so much why not throw him out? Why not blow his brains out and get rid of the problem? You could have killed him with no consequence – wiped the problem away – yet you kept him in the team, even after Boston when the others wanted him gone. Deny it all you want, but you wanted him to suffer. You relished in his suffering. You’re exactly what he sees you to be and you know it.” Shaw wasn’t easing up his attack, but Miller would never have allowed him to make it this far back on Earth. He’d been lacking his usual authority since he’d arrived at ISO and Shaw could sense it. Something was different.
Miller gritted his teeth. “You might have my respect Shaw, but that doesn’t give you the right to question me. You will very quickly find yourself in Carter’s position if you don’t remember your place. This is not the time to test me.”
His reaction still wasn’t enough to force Shaw to back down. “He’s suffered enough, Cap’. Even I can see he’s doubting his place here, and as much as I appreciate him keeping his mouth shut it’s only a matter of time before he slips on a mission and we all suffer the consequences. Giving him a hard time isn’t helping any of us.”
“Then what was that back on the ship? I heard what you said to him. That sounded a lot like you were trying to give him a hard time, now you’re slating me for the very same thing.”
“The Carter I’ve known here, on Altaris, would have come back at me whatever I’d said. He wouldn’t have backed down like that – that’s your doing.”
As the pair arrived at the gates to the mansion Miller turned to face his partner. “We’ve all suffered, Shaw. He’s got no excuse.”
Shaw looked into the Lieutenant’s eyes. Despite the grit in his voice and the spite in his words, there was no strength in his voice; no fire in his eyes. Miller’s fight – the unrelenting determination that had kept him alive and sane all these years – was gone. He was feebly cowering behind his title like any weak leader would. Before he had used it as a weapon to instil fear; now it was merely his shield. There was undoubtedly something more behind his chance arrival than he was letting on. What scared Shaw was not knowing what.
Miller broke eye contact and pressed his palm to the chip scanner beside the gates. The locks released and they entered the courtyard. As Miller continued towards the doors Shaw broke off. He drew a small tracker from his pocket and glanced up. A vehicle lane ran directly above the estate where cruisers routinely passed overhead on their way into the city centre. The spot where Shaw was stood lay directly below it. Having verified his position he kneeled down and planted the tracker in the gravel beside the fountain before joining back up with his partner.
“I’ve scanned the building,” Sully updated them. “There’s a safe room on the third floor – possible entrance on the east wing corridor. I can’t promise it’s in there, but it’s our best shot.”
“Copy that,” Miller replied. “Hostiles?”
“There’s a two man patrol moving through every five, but other than that you’re clear.”
“Good. Keep us posted.”
The arched doors to the mansion swung open as they made their approach. A guard stood waiting, and after a brief exchange he directed the pair towards the east wing stairwell, oblivious to their true identities.
The mansion’s interior was cut almost exclusively from antique fashioned wood. Every doorway was accentuated by a broad, carved archway and old pre-war paintings were hung in alcoves at regular intervals down every hallway. All obvious signs of technology had been cleverly hidden away so that there was nothing to break the illusion. Rodriguez had a very particular taste, it seemed.
The grand staircase took them three levels up where they entered a wide, empty corridor with windows lining one wall and doors lining the other.
“The next patrol passes through in two minutes,” Miller said, tracking their location through his contact lens’ heads-up-display. “Make it quick.” He pointed Shaw to the left while he stood on watch beside the stairs. Shaw moved along the corridor, testing each door as he passed it. They all looked identical, but if Sully was right one was nothing more than a façade. As he pulled on the handle of the fifth door the handle jammed. He tried again. It didn’t budge. “Got it,” he informed both Miller and Sully.
“Can you confirm, S
ullivan?” Miller requested.
“The positioning looks right…”
“Lose the uncertainty, Corporal. Can you confirm?”
“Confirmed.”
“Alright. Shaw, let’s move.”
Shaw made his way over to the opposite window. One of the five separated towers was directly across from him and had a balcony facing the mansion. He had his angle.
“Go,” Miller ordered.
“And get a move on,” Sully added. “Carter and O’Brien are already en route.”
Doing his best to avoid any unwanted attention Shaw headed briskly back down to the ground and strode out onto the courtyard. Right on cue, Sully flew overhead. A metal case dropped down from his cruiser and hit the ground with a thud. Having collected the package Shaw made his way around the left side of the mansion towards the tower. Aware that there was little time for delicacy he kicked through the door, splintering the wood around the lock.
Much to his relief there was no one inside; he was in the clear. Dozens of cubic metal food crates were stacked in alcoves on three walls and a ladder reached up all twenty feet to the top between them. Shaw jumped straight onto the bottom rungs and climbed, powering himself up with all of the strength in his mighty legs.
He stepped out onto the balcony and laid the case down at his feet. Inside were the components of his rifle, along with his belt and all of his other gadgets.
“Have you got a shot?” Miller asked as he saw his partner getting into position.
Shaw quickly assembled and loaded his rifle then lay down low, shuffling across until he had the top of the stairs in his sights, perfectly positioned between the bars of the railing.
“I’ve got it,” he confirmed.
“Sullivan, where’s that patrol?”
“Approaching the stairwell on the second floor. They’ll be headed your way any second now.”
Shaw watched through his scope as Miller crossed the hallway to the window opposite the stairs. He released the catch and opened it wide, giving his sniper a straight shot of the patrol’s arrival. They nodded to one another before Miller stepped aside.