by P. T. Hylton
***
Alex moved through the hangar quietly but purposefully. Considering the time of night, she felt pretty safe. There was rarely anyone here at this hour. And even if someone did show up, people were so used to seeing her here that they probably wouldn’t question her presence. She had a cover story ready just in case. As it was, she followed Sarah’s lead by leaving as many light off as possible.
Sarah was right. Even if this went perfectly, every person on the GMT would know who had done this the moment the mission started. CB would tell the general even if every other member of the team would cover for her. It was possible that CB or the general would remove her from the team for this, but she was willing to risk it.
CB had accused her of being rash, of putting her desires ahead of the needs of the team when she’d taken the jetpack outside and when she’d used the rover on the factory door in Buenos Aires, but the truth was she’d been thinking of nothing but the team on both occasions. She was putting the needs of the team far above her own safety. In the case of the jetpack, she’d known the Council was hesitant to approve any new spending, so she’d put her career at risk to give them a thrilling enough demonstration to move the needle. In the case of Buenos Aires, she’d known immediately that they’d need to bust into the factory. Better to get it done quickly before team morale wavered.
Both of those had been risky maneuvers, but both had paid off for the team. She hoped and believed this time would be no different.
She reached the away ship and typed Owl’s security code into the control panel next to the door. Alex had watched Owl enter the code last month and filed it away, not intending to use it, but putting it in her mental just in case file. She had her own passcode, but Owl was incredibly touchy about her ship. Alex wouldn’t have been surprised if she had a safety measure built in that alerted her when anyone else boarded.
The ship door unlocked with a hiss of air, and Alex pulled it open and stepped onto the away ship.
The lights in the interior of the ship were motion activated, and she imagined she could almost hear them click as she entered each new section of the ship. It felt odd to be here alone. Usually, the ship was buzzing with the excitement and tension of the upcoming mission when she boarded. Walking through it now, she felt a bit of that excitement spark inside her, as if the residue of so many missions still hung in the air. But mostly the ship felt like a dead thing, like she was exploring the preserved carcass of some great beast long extinct.
She made her way to the passenger section where she and the rest of the crew sat during missions. She went to the seat on the starboard side where she always sat and wedged her fingers under the bench seat. The seat detached with a snap, revealing a large space inside the bench. This area had been designed for storage, Alex knew, but they never used it as such. The GMT was small enough that there was always plenty of room, and it was easier to just stow their gear in the cargo hold and grab it on the way out. To Alex’s knowledge, this would be the first time these benches would be used for their intended purpose.
She stared at the storage area for a long moment. Like it or not, she had to admit she was crossing a line here. This wasn’t just flying a jetpack outside instead of in the hangar. This was smuggling. Any way she wanted to defend it to herself, this was putting politics ahead of her team.
But, for the citizens of New Haven, it had to be done.
She placed the two black bags into the seat and replaced the bench.
Twenty minutes later, she was back in her quarters, lying in bed and waiting for morning.
Chapter 14
CB was on his morning run when his earpiece chirped. He sighed and touched the radio on his belt. “Brickman.”
For CB, morning runs were sacred. As the field commander for the most elite team on New Haven, very little of his time was his own. He often felt pulled in a dozen different directions. General Craig needed updated budget projections. R&D wanted his sign-off on new gear. One of his team members had gotten into a fight at the Tankard and punched a police officer. He had to show up at the gym and lift with the team so they didn’t think he was slacking off. And that was the average Tuesday before ten a.m.
But this forty-five-minute run was for him. He guarded this time jealously, and he even went for the run on mission days when things were three times as hectic. Everyone who worked with him, everyone who had access to this radio channel, knew about the holiness of his morning runs, and they damn sure wouldn’t interrupt it unless there was no choice.
So he was more than a little surprised when the voice of Brian McElroy came through his radio.
“Sorry to bother you, Captain. You need to come down to R&D right away. We’ve got a situation.”
Ten minutes later, he was changed into his fatigues and on his way to R&D.
Brian met him at the door. “This isn’t good, sir.”
CB brushed past him and into the lab. He didn’t know what he’d find there, but he had his gun on his hip just in case. “Care to elaborate?”
Brian followed close behind. From the quiver in his voice, CB could tell he was about to lose it. The kid was brilliant, but he wasn’t exactly calm under pressure. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find them. Which is insane, because they were here at eleven last night when I locked up. I know because I was trying a new casing for them, one that would make them more useful in the field.”
CB stopped and turned toward Brian. “Son, slow down and tell me what you’re talking about.”
Brian nodded frantically, then took a deep breath before speaking again. “Okay, sorry, I’m a little freaked out.”
“Something’s missing?”
Brian nodded again, but this time it didn’t look as much like his head was out of control on a spring. “It’s the Daylights, sir. The ones that replicate sunlight. They’re gone.”
CB cursed softly. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish, sir.”
If the general found out about this, he’d blow a gasket. The mission would be canceled, and the place would go into lockdown. This was the piece of tech that had caused this whole Resettlement resurgence, after all.
CB pointed up at the cameras mounted all over the room. “You checked the tape?”
Brian shook his head. Clearly, he hadn’t even considered that. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. While you do that, I’m going to see what I can dig up.”
CB glanced at his watch. He had three hours until he needed to report to the away ship. He’d tell the general about the Daylights before that if he had to, but he wanted to try recovering the lights on the down low first. He had a pretty good idea where to start looking.
***
CB had grown up in Sparrow's Ridge. His father had died when CB was four, and his mother had worked a low-level job in the nuclear sector. Like everyone in New Haven, their most basic needs were guaranteed, so CB never went hungry or naked, but he spent most of his younger years wearing thin, City-Council-issued handout clothes, which the other kids took every opportunity to taunt him for.
His mother had passed five years ago, and he hadn’t spent any real time in the Ridge since, but he still knew his way around. Enough old-timers remembered him that he was able to get someone to point him to Fleming’s makeshift headquarters—the Council-in-exile they were calling it, apparently.
CB barely recognized the place. Back in his day, it had been a general community center, mostly used for poor kids’ birthday parties and old people’s card clubs. Now it was transformed. Dozens of desks filled the room, and the walls were lined with even more workers jammed together at tables. There must have been one hundred people crowded into the room. And at the head of it all, sitting at a large desk at the front of the room, was Fleming.
CB marched right up to the desk, ignoring the three young men who tried to stop him with polite offers of help He planted both hands on the desk and leaned forward.
Fleming looked up, clearly surprised to see this fire
plug of a man in his face, but he quickly recovered and gave CB his signature smile. “Captain. Pleasure seeing you here. Come to join the movement?”
“Cut the shit, Fleming. I want to know what you did with them.”
Fleming’s gaze darted behind CB, and CB glanced over his shoulder to see a small group of men was gathering behind him. Probably what passed for the tough guys in this pathetic assortment of would-be rebels.
Fleming looked back at CB. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Captain.”
CB grimaced. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. If Fleming wanted to play coy, fine, but CB sure wasn’t going to. “The Daylights, Councilman. I know you have them.”
Fleming’s smiled didn’t waver, but CB was almost certain he saw a spark of recognition in the Councilman’s eyes. “We don’t have your lights. If you’ve misplaced them, that’s not my concern.”
“I didn’t misplace them, asshole. You took them.”
CB felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the biggest of the men looming over him.
“Okay, time to leave, buddy.”
The guy had eight inches on CB, and he held himself like a man used to getting his way. CB was fairly certain he could drop this idiot in one punch if it came to that.
He shrugged the man’s hand off his shoulder and glared at him. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fingers.”
“It’s okay, Phil,” Fleming said. “Captain, I’m sorry your equipment was stolen, but you are seriously misplacing your suspicion. And, frankly, it’s a little insulting that you’d leap to this conclusion. These people you see before you are all volunteers, graciously giving their time to help us raise support. We’re focused on putting pressure on the City Council to do their duty and listen to the will of the people, and I promise you that is more than job enough for all of us. We don’t have time to break into Ground Mission Team headquarters to steal equipment.”
CB smiled. “That so? I guess your people don’t have anything to do with the protests that have been going on? With the riots?”
“I’ll admit, things have gotten a little out of hand, but these are extraordinary times.”
“That they are. I never thought I’d see the day when a member of the City Council would steal equipment from the GMT.”
Fleming shook his head as if disappointed. “Look around, Captain. What use would the Daylights be to us? I said it before, and I’m only going to say it one more time. We don’t have your lights. Now I think it’s time for you to go. Unless you’d like to sign our petition first?”
Others had joined the men behind CB. There must have been twenty of them. And every other eye in the room was watching.
CB knew many of these people were Sparrow’s Ridge lifers, hardscrabble folk who were no strangers to a barroom brawl. Still, he was pretty sure he could drop four or five of these guys before they took him down. And he was armed.
But the clock was ticking. He didn’t have time to fool around. He turned back to Fleming. “I’m sure you know that at this point the Council is just looking for an excuse to officially remove you. If I find out you had anything to do with those lights going missing, they’ll have it.”
Fleming flashed his most brilliant politician’s smile. “If you’re threatening to remove me from power, best of luck, Captain Brickman. You’re going to need it.”
***
Brian sat in front of the monitor, fast-forwarding through last night’s footage. He couldn’t believe someone had stolen the Daylights, but there was no other explanation for their disappearance. As upset as he was about the theft, he was even more worried about what he was going to find on the security tape.
The thing he hadn’t mentioned to Captain Brickman was that the list of possible suspects was quite small. Only ten people worked in R&D, and only five of them had keys. There were a few others who had access—janitorial staff, a few select Engineering people, the general himself—but the list wasn’t long. Whoever had done this, it would be a gut punch.
He slowed the recording as a shape appeared. The figure was familiar, and Brian’s heart sank. Sarah. He’d suspected as much. She’d been talking about Resettlement for months, and lately she’d been spending all her free time with Fleming and his supporters. Brian knew she’d been indoctrinated to Fleming’s radical views, but he didn’t think she’d go this far.
He scrolled further through the tape and watched as she gathered the Daylights and stowed them in black duffle bags.
Brian grabbed his radio off the desk. Time to tell Captain Brickman he’d found the culprit.
Before he could turn on the radio, another figure joined Sarah on the screen, and Brian let out a gasp.
“Oh, Alex, how could you?”
Chapter 15
Alex was the last one to the locker room that morning. Somehow, in spite of everything that was going on, the mission, the Daylights, the rising tension between the Council and the Resettlement supporters, she’d fallen asleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow the previous night, and she’d slept hard. She’d woken disoriented and groggy, and now she was ten minutes late to mission prep.
Grabbing her stuff out of her stocked locker, she threw on her silvermail suit and her fatigues. She gave herself one final check to make sure she had everything—pistols, sword, tactical knives—and then she headed out.
Alex knew something was wrong as soon as she approached the away ship. There were people around the ship the same way there always were before a mission, but they weren’t bustling around. They stood, working slowly, methodically, and every one of them looked at her as she approached.
Brian exited the ship and startled when he saw her.
“Hey, man,” she said.
“Hi, Alex.” His voice was distant and cold, and his eyes were heavy with heartbreak.
She was caught, and she knew it.
But what were her options? Turn tail and run? How far would she get? No, she had to face the music.
She stepped into the ship, brushed past a tech from R&D, and headed for the passenger section. When she got there, the other GMT members were standing around the area. The bench seats were removed. Every eye turned toward her as she entered.
Silence hung thick in the air.
Emotion played openly on the faces of her teammates. Simmons wore a disappointed look. Drew looked shocked. Firefly looked angry.
Only CB’s face was blank, as if it were carved from stone. “You’ve pulled some shit in your day, Goddard,” he said, “but this is one step too far. Come with me. We’re going to see the general.”
Alex nodded. She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice when she said, “Yes, sir.”
As they turned to go, Drew said, “How could you, Alex? You know we need you on this team. We need you down there. Anything happens to us, it’s on you.”
“What were you trying to accomplish here?” Owl asked.
Alex considered whether to answer that or plead ignorance, but only for a moment. Her team deserved the truth. “I thought if we could demonstrate the Daylights, if we could show how effective they are, it might help change the Council's mind.”
“You thought?” Simmons said. “We all know this wasn’t your idea. You’re so far in Fleming’s pocket you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore. You don’t even realize you’re a traitor.”
Alex turned back at that, her eyes suddenly alive with anger. “A traitor? How about the Council? They were elected to serve the will of the people.”
Simmons laughed dryly. “See what I mean?”
Firefly glared at Alex. “If they say we can’t go on the mission because of you, I’m gonna kick your ass. Girl or not.”
“I think we both know what would happen if you tried,” Alex answered.
“That’s enough!” CB yelled.
The ship fell silent.
He turned back toward the cargo hold. “GMT needs the ship. Everyone else, clear out.”
They waited a minute i
n silence as the R&D techs left. When they were alone, CB said, “The general and the Council will decide how to address what Alex did. It starts and ends with them. This city is tearing itself apart. I won’t have this team do the same thing. I already lost one team.” He paused, looking around, meeting each of their gazes. “It’s time I tell you how it happened.”
***
“It happened when I was twenty-five,” CB began. “I was in charge of demolitions for the GMT at the time. We had a strong group. Lots of years of experience, more than we have now, even. The captain was this grizzled old woman named Murphy.” He paused and chuckled. “Well, she seemed old at the time. Come to think of it, she was probably about fifty, same as I am now.
“The thing you young people gotta know is this isn’t the first time the idea of Resettlement has gained popularity. Seems to crop up every generation or so. Back then, our sniper was this dude about a year younger than me named Kravitz. He was a cocky SOB, but damn if he wasn’t good enough to back up his confidence. He was also a big proponent of Resettlement, and, even more importantly, he had Murphy’s ear. Maybe more than her ear, if you want to believe the rumors that were flying around then.
“I don’t know how he did it, but Kravitz somehow convinced Murphy to allow us to give a little demonstration of how effectively we could deal with vampires. Thought was, if we were successful, it would be quite a boon to the Resettlement movement. It’d show people maybe the idea wasn’t so farfetched after all.
“So, we headed down to the surface, an old city in the northern hemisphere called Quebec. It was supposed to be a routine mission to gather some parts for Engineering, but we had other ideas.
“Our pilot set us down right in the old center of the city in the middle of a mess of buildings. We all stayed near the ship, safely in the light. We’d brought a supply of human blood with us, quarts of the stuff. We spread it all around us in a circle. And, sure enough, soon the vampires began to appear.
“They stayed in the doorways of the buildings, in the shadows, but it was like they couldn’t resist. They came right up to the edge of the light and stopped, pretty as a picture. I’ll tell you what, it was like target practice. We spent hours killing vampire after vampire. Every time we’d blow one’s head off, another one would drag the body out of the way and take its place.