by M. R. Forbes
“Great,” Olus said. “You’ve got us. Now what?”
19
The bots remained stationary, an odd standoff that Olus wasn’t quite sure how to handle despite his years of experience. Every time he moved, the bots followed, keeping him from reaching the door.
“This would be funny if we weren’t talking about the fate of the galaxy,” Nibia said.
Olus spun around, quickly scanning their surroundings. There was no sign of activity anywhere else. No indication they were being watched or that they were about to be attacked.
As he turned back to the waste collectors, a small machine zipped in through the exit, heading toward them, pausing to hover right in front of his head. It was shaped like an insect but clearly a machine, with gossamer wings holding its light frame aloft. A red spread across his forehead, scanning his face. It clicked once and then flew to their left.
Olus watched it stop a few meters away, circle back, and then dart away again.
“I think it wants us to follow it,” he said.
“This just gets stranger and stranger,” Nibia said.
“Quark, are you tracking us?” Olus asked.
“Roger, Captain. What the frag are you two doing?”
“Bring your squad and follow us in. Keep a distance, but not too much of a distance. I think the AI is trying to guide us.”
“Well, I’ll be fragged. Roger.”
Olus started walking in the direction of the small bot. This time, the waste bots didn’t try to stop them.
The dragonfly darted along the terminal, leading them along the main corridor until it reached a sealed hatch. It circled ahead of it a few times before landing somewhere out of sight.
“A locked door,” Nibia said. “Great.”
“I don’t mind locked doors,” Olus said. “Cover me.”
He put his back to the door, reaching for it. He pushed the Gift out through his fingertips, stretching it into the security panel. The lenses on his eyes filled with code, the naniates interfacing with the lock.
Nibia stood in front of him, scanning the crowd. She looked back at him. “There’s a security detail coming this way.”
He held out his free hand. She looked at it for a moment and then smiled, taking it with hers. She let him pull her in, holding her close, her back to him as they embraced. He dipped his head toward her neck as though he were kissing it, watching as the two guards and their bots crossed their path. One of the guards glanced over, but they didn’t stop moving.
Olus watched the code, his hand tapping out commands to the interface. The lock was hardly new, and it hadn’t been patched in some time. A series of quick entries and the hatch slid open.
When would these places learn to keep their firmware up to date?
He let Nibia go, his fingers tingling from making contact with her skin. It was a sensation he hadn’t been expecting, and she smiled knowingly.
“The Meijo,” she said. “It likes your Gift.”
He didn’t understand the Koosian’s version of things well enough to comment or question. Now that the door was open, the dragonfly emerged from hiding and darted through.
“Quark, we’re heading through a secured area. I left the door unlocked.”
“Roger.”
They trailed the machine, following it to a stairwell and down three flights of stairs to a heavy blast door. This one was already unlocked, and it slid open at their approach, revealing a maintenance tunnel for the systems beneath the Skyport. Olus could hear workers talking somewhere within the tunnels, but he couldn’t see them. At least not yet.
“I wish that thing would slow down,” Nibia said as they followed the machine through the tunnels. “It’s going to get us spotted.”
The dragonfly paused as if in reply, darting to them and landing on Olus’ back. It clicked a few times, a cadence that was similar to a starship’s alert klaxons.
Olus drew his sidearm in one hand, his Uin in the other. Nibia followed suit, her eyes narrowing as they approached an intersection in the tunnels. He could hear footsteps coming their way now, heavy boots on the metal floor.
He put his gun away. There was no reason to make too much noise. He pressed himself against the wall, waiting for the individual to reach them.
They did a moment later, and he reached out into the corridor and grabbed them, putting a hand over their mouth and the Uin to their neck.
At least, he tried to put the Uin to their neck. Something hit him before he could get it into a position, a punch to the gut that sent him reeling back into the wall at the same time his Gift tried to warn him about the presence of an Evolent.
Too fragging late.
20
He hit the wall hard; breath knocked away by the force before he could gather enough of the Gift to recover. He raised the Uin in front of his face by instinct, rewarded when a pair of rounds pinged off the rhodrinium, unable to pierce the dense alloy.
Where was Nibia? He pushed back with the Gift, lowering the Uin and finding her closing on the closest target. That wasn’t the Evolent. They were further back, down the corridor and out of sight. He could sense the origin of the Gift, and he charged ahead as Nibia reached the soldier, batting his weapon aside and slicing his neck in one smooth stroke. He dove to grab her, pulling her down at the same time a line of fire launched down the corridor from the Evolent’s hand.
“Are you trying to get killed?” he asked, laying on top of her for a moment.
“No,” she replied. “Just flirting.”
She winked at him before he jumped to his feet, firing down the corridor at their unseen opponent. His bullets hit the air ahead and dropped, useless as anything more than a distraction.
Then Nibia was back up, adding her fire to his. The Evolent’s flames came again, and they ducked aside, avoiding the burn as they made their way forward.
Olus checked his TCU. Quark and his unit were closing fast, running toward the sound of gunfire.
The attack against them stopped.
The Evolent was gone.
“Frag,” Nibia said. “She ran away.”
“How do you know it was a woman?” Olus asked.
“Reading the Meijo.”
It was a cryptic answer. How could she read the Gift to determine the user’s gender? For that matter, how had she known when to duck away? Obviously, there was a connection between her people’s version of the Gift and the real Gift he didn’t understand just yet.
“Captain,” Quark said, catching up to them. “Did we miss all the fun?”
“The fun’s just starting, sweetie,” Nibia said.
Quark laughed. “Good.”
“Not good,” Olus said. “They know we’re here. They may know the Don’s neural net is trying to help us. How do you think they’re going to react?”
Quark stopped laughing. “I agree with the Captain. Not so good. No time to stand here, then.”
“No,” Olus agreed.
He pulled up the data he had collected on the site. They were near where he had suspected the neural net was being stored. At the same time, the dragonfly reappeared, circling his head and darting away once more.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Hold up,” Quark said. “Are you sure that thing isn’t leading you right into the line of fire? Hell, are you sure the net is trying to help us at all?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just because that thing is leading you on doesn’t mean it’s on our side. It could be like a fragging fish hook if you know what I mean.”
“You don’t want to follow it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what?”
“Split up. You got another path through?”
Olus checked his maps. “There’s a conduit that runs through the station.” He turned to the wall, eyes ascending until they stopped on a metal grate. “Through there.”
“Big enough for a humanoid?” Quark asked.
Olus nodded. “For Nibia and me
. You’re too big.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
“Follow the bot. We’ll go this way.”
“Roger, Captain. Sounds like a plan.”
Olus moved to the wall, reaching up and getting his hand on the bottom of the grate. He pulled at it with the Gift, the metal first bending and then breaking free. He lowered the grate to the floor before pulling himself up and in.
“See you on the other side, Colonel,” he said, turning back and beginning his crawl.
“Later, Colonel,” Nibia said, following behind him.
Olus could see Quark moving away on his TCU, setting a pace that would be a challenge to match.
He put arm over arm, frog-kicking his feet against the conduit and propelling himself forward. He could hear Nibia behind him, doing the same. They slipped through the passage in a hurry, taking it a few hundred meters forward before it turned and dropped a dozen meters. He lowered himself, using the sides as anchors. He reached the bottom and looked up, using the Gift to enhance his sight in the pitch black. She was close behind. He crouched and moved into the adjoining space, staying on the move.
“Frag,” Quark said through the comm. “I hate when I’m right, Captain.”
He heard the gunfire a moment later, muffled by the thick walls between them.
“Three Evolents,” Nibia said.
Olus felt a chill at the statement. Three? He checked his TCU. One of Quark’s Riders changed color, indicating his life signs were lost. Damn it. The networked system was showing him nearly a dozen targets opposite the Colonel, dug in and waiting for their arrival.
It seemed it was a trap after all.
“Come on,” he said, using the Gift to increase his speed, rushing toward the nearest grate.
The gunfire continued unabated, both sides sharing rounds. Olus could hear Nibia gasp behind him, a second before another Rider fell. Quark was cursing up a storm into the comm, and they reached the grate on the left flank of the firefight in time to see him round the corner they were hiding behind, charging headlong toward the enemy. A blast of energy lashed at him from one of the Evolents, the flames curling around his form.
Quark dropped his rifle, pulling two pistols and firing at the Evolent. His rounds were deflected, hitting the walls around the woman, his attack ineffective.
Olus threw his hand into the grate, punching it hard enough that it exploded from the wall, crossing the floor and drawing the attention of Thraven’s forces. He slid out of the conduit, pushing off and launching into the fray. He landed right beside one of the Evolents, slicing with his Uin as the Nephilim ducked low, striking his leg. He felt the bone crack, and he stumbled, turning and raising his sidearm as a blade angled toward his face. He fired, hitting the attacker’s hand, leaving it a sudden mess that couldn’t hold onto the weapon. He kicked out with his good leg, feeling the burn in the broken one at the same time his foot connected with the Evolent’s chin, knocking him back.
The Gift lashed out at him, grabbing him by the neck. He pushed against it, fighting the choke hold. Nibia charged in, shooting at the Evolent. She blocked the rounds, the effort drawing her attention. Olus broke the hold, skipping forward and slicing her neck, cutting off her Gift.
A few meters away, Quark punched a second Evolent hard in the cheek, shattering bones and sending him flailing. The mercenary growled in response to the invisible grip that tried to hold him, casting it off easily, his anger fueling his resistance. He holstered his sidearm, exchanging it for a long knife, pinning the Evolent and removing his head.
The loss of two Gifted soldiers turned the tide in a hurry, and Quark’s remaining soldiers picked off Thraven’s forces one by one, with Olus and Nibia removing their heads in turn, just in case. They hadn’t come across any Converts so far, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here.
The last Evolent shrank away, the only opposition remaining as the fight wound down. He put his hands up in surrender.
“Stop,” he said. “It’s over.”
“It’s over when I say it’s over,” Quark said, closing on him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Kill me if you want, mercenary. You’re too late.”
“Too late for what?” Olus asked.
“Long live Gloritant Thraven.”
The Evolent smiled, his Gift flaring suddenly.
“Get down,” Nibia said, grabbing Olus by the shoulders and pulling him away. An instant later the entirety of the Evolent’s body began to burn, the heat of the Gift stretching away from him, exploding outward in a sudden flare. The fire tore through them, eating away at Quark’s remaining soldiers before they had time to scream. Quark turned away from the fire, cursing as it washed over him, powerful enough that his suit began to burn.
Then it was over; the Evolent reduced to ash, the Gift dissipating away. Quark continued cursing, rolling on the ground, trying to put out the flames. Nibia joined him, putting a hand on his head and instantly calming him. The smoldering vanished.
Olus got to his feet, surveying the carnage before returning his attention to Quark.
“Shit,” the Colonel said. “I’ve never seen one of them do that before.”
“Me neither,” Olus said. He held out his hand. Quark took it, letting Olus help him up.
“Gone,” Quark said, looking back at his soldiers. “All fragging gone. Son of a bitch.” His fury was palpable. “I’ll make amends to you. To all of you. Fragging Thraven.”
“Are we too late?” Nibia asked.
“We might have been too late before we got here,” Olus replied. “The mainframe should be through there. If it’s still active, I can try to interface with it.”
“If it’s not?” Quark asked.
“Then we came here for nothing.”
“I don’t want to hear that, Captain. Not now.”
“Captain, this is Dak. Do you read me?”
Dak’s voice carried to him over his comm. He didn’t sound happy.
“I read you, Commander,” Olus said.
“Uh, I don’t know what you’re doing down there, but it’s time to leave.”
“Why?”
“I’m picking up a bunch of transports heading for the surface from the orbiting battleships. I think it’s safe to assume they aren’t friendly.”
Quark and Olus looked at one another.
“Do it, Captain,” Quark said, a twisted smile crossing his face.
“Dak, decloak the Brimstone. Fire at will.”
Dak grunted. “With pleasure, sir.”
21
“How much time do we have?” Olus asked, putting his hand on the door controls blocking them from the neural net’s mainframe.
“Five minutes at best, Captain,” Dak replied. “We’ve got their attention. Two transports are down, but we can’t hit them all before they reach the atmosphere. Thraven’s warships are adjusting course to intercept.”
“Roger. Keep firing, take out as many as you can.”
“Aye, sir.”
He broke the comm link to focus on the door controls. It was a similar system to the one in the station, and he cracked it quickly, the door opening ahead of them.
“Well, shit,” Quark said, moving into the room first.
Olus joined him a moment later. They were standing at the edge of a maze of catwalks that ringed the largest network of mainframes he had ever seen in a single space.
“The processing power must be unbelievable,” Olus said. “It’s still active.”
Something cracked to their left, and bullets began pinging off the metal floor. They all ducked down, turning to find their attacker. A group of larger bots was rising from the base of the mainframe; turret mounted rifles rotating to find them.
“Active or not, it doesn’t like us,” Quark said. “I’m not having fun anymore.”
“Come on, sweetie,” Nibia said. “This is just like that time on Kallos Four.”
“This is nothing like Kallos Four,” Quark argued, ri
sing and leaning over the railing to fire down at the bots. He fell away as the return fire came dangerously close to killing him.
“Sure it is. Outnumbered. Impossible odds. An insane warlord.”
“True,” Quark said. “Captain, if the net is active you can hack it, right?”
“Potentially, but I need to find the main terminal.” His eyes scanned the multiple levels of circuitry and hardware. It would have to be somewhere accessible.
“What does it look like?” Nibia asked, shrinking back as a few more rounds struck the catwalk.
“Probably a small projector with either a plug interface or a control surface. The scaffolding would have to be able to reach it.”
“You mean like that?” Quark asked, reaching out to point. As soon as he did, a round clipped his arm, forcing him to draw it back. “Frag.” He looked at the mark in his lightsuit, which had deflected the glancing strike.
Olus followed the point to a catwalk a hundred meters below them. He didn’t have the visual acuity to define the terminal, but he had to assume Quark did.
“I need to get down there,” he said.
“We’ve got you covered, Captain,” Quark replied. “Just say when.”
The bots were drawing closer, rising toward them, waiting to get a clear shot to fire again. Motion at the other side of the catwalk drew his attention as a larger, treaded bot appeared across from them. It had a pair of heavy rifles mounted to its sides, beeping and opening fire when it spotted them.
Olus put up his hand, the Gift stretching out and catching the rounds, leaving them hiding behind his shield. He clenched his teeth, the pressure of the machine’s attack testing him. He couldn’t hold, forever.
“Nibia,” Quark said. “Let’s go.”
He watched the mercenary vault the railing in a smooth motion, falling out of sight. What the hell?
Then Nibia’s arms were on his shoulders. “You too, Captain,” she said. She pulled him up with impossible ease, nearly throwing him over the side. He lost control of the Gift as they fell, rounds buzzing past his ear, nearly killing him when his shield fell away.