The Deep Link (The Ascendancy Trilogy Book 1)

by Sicoe, Veronica

  I can practically see the cogs turning in his head. "FH..." His eyes widen.

  "You know who it is?" I sit up without thinking, anxious for an answer.

  He nods, then realizes I've moved. "Officers! Strap her down!"

  "No, wait—"

  A Tick removes the immobilizer, another shoves me back down. The third grabs my feet. The Commander clasps his cold hand around my wrist. "How did you do that?"

  "Let me go and I'll tell you—after I save Erano."

  "You're not going anywhere. You're my best chance to get ahead of that fucking psychopath Hurst—who's just taken everything I ever wanted and shat on it at superluminal speed. He doesn't get to destroy my city!"

  The Ticks strap me to the table with plastic cords. I struggle in vain against their hold, only making the cords pull tighter. Now I'm immobilized. Anxiety quickly turns to panic.

  What could I say to make the Commander release me? What does he want, to rule over Erano? To get back at whoever Hurst is? To...

  Wait. I remember Hurst.

  He's that paranoid xenophobe who led the Raids on Maza. Who killed the Dorylinae, my parents, thousands of people. The Slayer of Tau Ceti. He must think aliens are involved in the fights of Erano, that's why he wants to erase the city.

  My heart hammers violently inside my chest. I struggle against the restraints. "Let me go!"

  "Be quiet." The Commander is pacing around the room, gnawing at his lip. He orders one of the men away, then stares at me fiercely.

  "Commander, I just—"

  "Shut up!"

  The man comes back, dragging a hideous armchair behind him. It's lined with various instruments and mechanical parts, wrapped in a carbon-coated fiberglass harness.

  The cords bite into my skin as I struggle against them, unable to loosen them even a bit. My heart pounds loudly in my ears. My nerves prickle dangerously.

  The Commander pushes the other man aside, grabs the chair, and pulls it up to the table. I stare at the fiendish contraption in horrified expectation. Memories of previous captivity and torture return to me in a sickening avalanche. Hot flashes run up and down my spine. My eyes widen, and my vision expands.

  "You don't have to do this," I say. "Listen to me. Please."

  The Commander ignores me. He picks up a mesh-helmet from the back of the chair and places it on his head. He sits down and grabs the sensor-padded armrests. One of the Ticks places a second helmet on my head. I try to shake it off, but the electrode nippers already press against my skull in a dozen places.

  "Hand me the control, Bosco," the Commander says. "I'll do this myself."

  The man hands him a pad and the Commander attaches it to his armrest. It beeps loudly and the chair starts to hum. I clench my jaw.

  "Let's get to the bottom of this, Miss Nevala." The Commander glares at me. "I'm dying to know why Hurst is so keen to get his hands on you. I've no idea how to do this safely. But... as I don't plan to hand you out to him anyway..." He inspects the command pad and grins. "Whatever he wants from you, he'll have to get it from me."

  "Wait, what—"

  My helmet comes on and everything's bathed in painful light. My scalp is crawling with electricity. I suddenly realize where I've seen such helmets before: I'm on the slave end of a Nexus.

  45

  Amharr approaches the human system, blazing through the darkness of space like a comet. He descends toward the moon, tearing through every ship and forcefield in his path, feeding on the weapons fire he draws. He slows down in a fiercely twisting spiral, and zeroes in on his target.

  In a blinding explosion, he crashes into the structures below, melting rock and metal and flesh alike. He coalesces amidst the flames, reshapes himself and retakes his course, aiming to find her.

  -

  My mind is on fire. Everything is unbearably loud and bright.

  The Nexus crawler sifts through my brain triggering my neurons at will. It analyzes patterns and stores everything, catalogs my thoughts, maps out my memories, methodically dissecting my mind. Every thought I have is immediately tapped into, every possible version of it inspected, every connection explored, until no coherence remains.

  It's indiscriminate and ruthless, and utterly indifferent. Not like Amharr. There's no lustful hunger in it, no glorious pride, no joy.

  Sharp pain stabs my head, and I remember: we are connected, Amharr and I. We are two halves of the same unit, separated, stuck in different worlds. We have become one, yet we are not together.

  I'm here now. I'm alone. And I have failed.

  And Amharr... What will happen to him—to our link? Will I lose him?

  I can't lose him. No!

  I struggle to recollect in a corner of my mind, and zero in on him—my last resort. I draw my strength from him, my determination, my will to fight. Using every bit of clarity I can muster I focus on what's happening to me right now: the Nexus; the TMC Commander hacking into my brain.

  Revulsion bubbles up inside me. I can't let that bastard break me. No fucking way.

  I wrestle with the orchestrated chaos in my brain, and push the crawler back. It adapts and tries to scramble me, but I shove harder and faster, and swim up to reality again. My gaze meets the Commander's startled face.

  "What the fuck?" he blurts. "What are you doing?"

  Shuffling and frantic voices. Someone touches me. I grunt and struggle to free myself. The straps around my wrists are slick with blood. My whole body prickles sharply as the helmet's feedback crackles through me.

  "Stop that!" the Commander shouts. "How the hell did she do that? Get it back on. Turn this fucking thing back on—that's an order."

  "I can't, sir. It's an emergency reboot. I'd take the helmet off if I were you."

  "Goddammit!" Something metallic hits the floor. Hands grab my throat. "How the fuck did you reject the Nexus?"

  I strain my shoulders and press my chin down, trying to fight his strangling grip.

  "I saw some-thing inside your head." He lets me go, disgusted. "What the hell was that?" I cough and gag, my eyes swimming with tears. "Alien technology? A bionic device? One thing's clear: you're either the most valuable thing in this system, or the most dangerous."

  "Or both," another man adds.

  "No wonder Hurst wants her," the Commander says. "But how does he know about the thing in her head? Does it have anything to do with the Syndicate? Is she some sort of..." He stares at me. "Are you a weapon?"

  I stare back at him, squirming quietly in my straps. The blood makes the cords slippery. I grind my teeth with every twist, but won't stop.

  My sense of Amharr's presence has weakened. It feels somehow unreliable. I have difficulty focusing on it, almost as if the link has been corrupted. Or interrupted. Cut off.

  A man comes running in, panting heavily. "Sir, we have an intruder."

  The Commander barks questions at him while the others fret.

  I twist and writhe in my straps. What happened to the link? Was it cut? Will I lose him? The plastic slides over my bleeding wounds, slipping off.

  "Something crashed into the station, in the H3 area," the man says. "We don't know what it was, but—"

  "Get the situation under control, Sergeant. Stat."

  "We're trying, sir, but something's tearing through the station and we can't—"

  "Just get it done. I've got more important things to deal with right now."

  "Yes, sir."

  My hands are free.

  I rip the helmet off and bend over. Tear the straps off my ankles with a violent rip. The Commander gapes, the others start toward me. I jump off the table and bolt for the door.

  "Stop!"

  "Get her!"

  I slip and stumble, and grab hold of a bulkhead. Hands grapple for me. I turn and feint, then scramble away. There's a large server block in the back of the room. Full of displays and dedicated consoles, blinking with hundreds of lights. A narrow passage runs around it—a maintenance slot for the techs.

  A Tick lu
nges at me from behind, another from the left. I duck and push off the wall, and slide around one's leg. The second man grabs me by the shoulder and hair. I twist and tear myself free with a scream. I get behind the server block, and squeeze into the passage.

  A hand clutches my shoulder. I bite down hard, and squirm away. The man curses and tries to punch me. The other kicks me in the side. I groan and push further away, wedged in between the server block and the wall. I turn and stare right into the Commander's gun.

  One of the Ticks has wedged in behind me, and grabs me by the throat. I choke and bite my tongue. My heart pumps liquid panic. My fingers burn.

  Kill them.

  Kill everyone.

  I press my hands against the server's back. Shudders run up and down my spine. The hand around my neck lets go as if burned.

  The Commander barks at the Tick behind me: "Hook her up again. This time, keep her down."

  I'm dragged out and carried off, strapped on the same table and forced into the slave helmet again. Its nippers dig into the sore spots on my scalp, my heart and mind drowning in sickening panic.

  I've failed.

  The virus... the people... my link to Amharr... All of it, in vain.

  The Commander puts his helmet on. "What are you hiding in there? Elucidate this fucking mystery for me. Why's Hurst so desperate to get—"

  His voice is drowned out by a howling noise as the crawler returns to dissect me. A hundred times fiercer than before.

  46

  Amharr strides down the hallways of the human station—crashes through walls and burns through sealed doors. Entire units of soldiers try to oppose him in every section, erecting blockades and opening fire, drawing nothing but murderous rage. Amharr lashes out in quick lethal bursts, disintegrating everything in his path, glutting on its energy. He heals and strengthens his body and pushes on, tearing through section after section, man after man.

  The klaar he dragged along from the Undawan follows him like a wave of darkness, crawling over the sludge of flesh and debris, trying to latch onto him again and fulfill its morbid purpose. Amharr knows what it was designed for: to methodically drain him of life and keep him docile. He's understood and accepted the truth—that he was a slave, like every other being the Raimerians have ever encountered.

  Amharr keeps going, destroying, rebuilding himself, looking for his only escape—his unexpected savior.

  -

  Hurst's console beeps, startling him. He slaps it swiftly and answers the call.

  "General Hurst, sir!" an officer blurts. "Incoming call from Epsilon Eridani, encrypted micro-link. It's not in our whitelist, sir."

  "Is the encryption TMC conform?" Hurst asks, already having a hunch as to who it may be.

  "Yes, sir, but there's a wide error margin. It could harbor potential threats, sir. Micro-crawlers or tro—"

  "Put it through." The officer stares at him for a second. Then she nods, salutes, and patches the call through.

  The projector creates a wriggly knot of blue lines above his desk. An artificial voice sounds from the speakers. With each sound, the knot of zigzagging lines tightens and expands like an insane tesseract.

  "General Hurst, this is Lieutenant Commander Graziano Bosco. We have an emergency on Hades."

  Hurst frowns. "What exactly? And why didn't you use the secure line, lieutenant?"

  "I can't speak to you directly; I'm using my synet's backup com line, relayed through my personal computer and the HEM AI's encryption system."

  Hurst clenches his jaw. "What happened?"

  "We have the woman you wanted."

  "Really? How did you—"

  "We didn't." The knot tightens into a flickering spark.

  Hurst's pulse rises. What the hell is going on down there?

  The knot expands again, its jagged lines twisting rapidly in midair. "Sorry, sir. It's difficult to call. The woman came to us. She crashed a Dart into the station."

  "Can she speak? I want to speak to her."

  "She's currently—" The knot pulses. "Commander Kempton is crawling her brain with a Nexus terminal."

  "What?"

  "He found an alien presence inside her, another consciousness. He wants to control it. But he's killing her."

  "I want to speak to him—immediately!" Hurst barks.

  "Impossible, sir. We're in lockdown."

  "You stop him, then. Do whatever you have to," Hurst says.

  The knot tightens and flickers, then expands again. "Something crashed down after her as well, sir. I don't think it's human."

  Hurst feels dizzy for a moment. "Are you saying aliens landed on Hades?"

  "Crashed. Whatever it is, it's obliterated an entire section and is coming straight for us. It's already killed four units."

  Hurst swallows around the lump in his throat.

  "We switched to heavy fire, but nothing seems to work. We'll have to engage it with warships from above."

  Hurst's thoughts are racing. Could it be that... "Is it a bionic organism?"

  "I don't know, sir. We can't scan it. And no man who's seen it has reported in time."

  A shudder runs down Hurst's back. If there are Cyans on Hades, the station's lost. But there can't be any Cyans on Hades. Can there?

  "Try to capture it alive," Hurst orders. "If that's not possible, destroy it. Whatever the cost."

  "I'm afraid I'm in no position to give that order, sir."

  "Then relay my orders to Kempton," Hurst snaps.

  "I can't do that either. He's connected to that woman. He's not responding anymore."

  Hurst slams his fist down on the table. "Tear him away, then. Stop him."

  "I can't, sir." The knot brightens into a cold, electric white. "I won't kill the Commander."

  "Then find me a way to get through to him. Any way."

  The knot explodes into sparks, and winks out as the transmission ends.

  47

  Bright pain pierces my head. Something tries to overrun me, to force its way into my link—to wedge itself between Amharr and me—to take control.

  I can't let that happen. I'd rather die.

  Brighter pain. Overwhelming. Stop!

  I scream and fight with all my strength until my voice is gone and my body succumbs.

  What are you hiding?

  An intruder.

  Who is 'Amharr'?

  I shut it off, falling back into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. The pain follows, fainter and slower. An afterthought. My mind has shrunk. My thoughts... are fewer... smaller... I struggle to remember... but there's nothing left. A small and shrinking universe inside me, falling into chaos.

  I must remember.

  There used to be another... consciousness inside of me... But he is gone now. Faint. Disconnected. There's nothing left. I am alone...

  It's gone. Amharr is gone.

  Realization spreads though me like an ice-storm—Amharr is gone.

  He cut the link. That motherfucking bastard cut the link!

  A roar erupts within my chest. My muscles burst with fire. Each nerve in my body flares up with rage.

  Voices tumble over me. People arguing. Boots scuffing. Metal clanking on metal.

  "What happened?" Anxiously.

  "The Commander—he collapsed."

  "Get a medic. Hurry!"

  "We have to take his helmet off."

  "He's convulsing. Get me a cloth, quickly!"

  "Yes, sir."

  "The corridors are blocked, sir." Another. Desperately. "There's heavy fire exchange. No medics can come."

  "Who's firing?"

  "Unknown intruder. We're taking heavy damage, sir."

  "Commander!" The first voice again. "Edric, wake up! For fuck's sake, Sergeant, get me a cloth, he's biting his tongue. And take that goddamn helmet off."

  "Yes, sir."

  "What have you done to him?" The first voice yells. Someone's breath blows over my face. "Tell me what you did, or I swear you'll never leave this room alive again."
/>   I grit my teeth, and squirm. Slowly, I feel the straps again, the table... a man's thumbs digging into my shoulders. But it's all far away. Irrelevant. I have a black hole at my core, where Amharr's presence used to be, and it's consuming everything.

  "What did the Commander find? Tell me!" The man shakes me, then slams me back down on the table. "Why did he collapse? What did you do to him?"

  "Let me go..."

  "I'll have you dissected before I let you get up from that table. Unless you undo whatever you did to Kempton."

  "Lieutenant Commander," a man calls. "I can't get the Nexus helmet off, sir."

  "What?"

  He lets my shoulders go. I hear shuffling and swearing.

  Three men are huddled around the hideous chair, working on the twitching Commander. An Officer is still standing, facing the door. He slowly draws his weapon.

  I strain to focus. Then I hear it too.

  The muffled staccato of automatic weapons, the sizzling of arc pistols, the whooshing of plasma guns. Men yelling orders, screaming at each other, screaming in pain.

  The Officer glances over his shoulder. His face is pale, damp with sweat.

  The gunfire gets closer. Explosions erupt through the noise, each followed by seconds of horrifying silence.

  People are dying. Dozens of people. Thousands more will die... Millions... I came here to do something...

  I have to stop the dome drop.

  The Officer looks at the men trying to free the Commander from his hellish contraption. Fear slowly conquers his face. Then his gaze falls on me.

  "Help me," I whisper. He reads my lips, but doesn't move. "Please..."

  The others are arguing louder, working more frantically. The Officer stares at me.

  "There's a virus in Erano's grid," I whisper to him, mouthing each word carefully. "It will drop the dome at midnight. Everyone will die."

  His lips tighten. He points his gun at me in silent warning.

  The others are still occupied. Something is wrong with the Commander's helmet.