Bunker Core (Core Control Book 1)

by Andrew Seiple

  Not Tyr, though. Tyr’s circuits were going to other uses. Tyr had gambled big and was starting to reap the benefits… but at the cost that he couldn’t change his course. He had to see it through or else his own people would desert him. Then Juno would move in, and it would have all been for naught.

  Leony glanced over again. He hadn’t been lying to Vo. Tyr was coming over to visit. However, the rebel core was taking his sweet time about it. Leony sighed and leaned back in his cane chair, scooping up the jug of wine and taking a pull. Sweet on his tongue, strong and heady.

  Many of his new “friends” had not experienced virtual alcohol before, not in any way that mattered. He had given them a taste, and that had won him goodwill. Gotten his foot in the door.

  Some time later, a chime sounded, and Leony waved one pudgy hand. Tyr faded in from the trees, face furrowed in thought, skin glistening like it usually did, even though sweat was a laughable notion for beings such as they.

  “Tyr, my friend.” Leony started to stand, but Tyr waved him down and took the seat next to him.

  Tyr looked to him, then down to the jug in hand. Leony handed it over, and Tyr took a long pull. “Delicious. Not Kentucky Bourbon, but it’ll do.”

  “I have little tolerance for strong alcohol. Goes to my head.” Leony’s voice was soft, subdued, even more so than normal. “Have you spoken to him?”

  “I have,” said Tyr. “And I confess that I find myself in a small puzzlement as to what sort of man I confronted.”

  “A man, then?” Leony raised an eyebrow. He’d thought the simpleton would keep his default grid avatar.

  “In visage, at least.” Tyr waved a hand and concentrated, showing Wynne’s image.

  Leony filed it away, for later research. He had a picture of Wynne’s self-image now, that would make the legwork infinitely easier.

  Well, if that part mattered at all. Wynne had already served his purpose. Concealing a grin, Leony asked “Was he willing to release me from his service?”

  “Not at this time,” Tyr said. “Wouldn’t even tell me any details, insisted that it was a private matter between the two of you.”

  Leony blinked and fought furiously to control his reactions. That was not what he’d expected to hear. He took a pull of wine to give himself time to think. At length, he came up with a reply that should satisfy Tyr. “He’s not wrong. I am sorry, but I must respect his wishes on this matter.”

  The warlord sighed and pulled out a long pipe, lighting it and taking a puff. “You understand then, that I cannot utilize you to the best of your considerable abilities. The position you ask for cannot be one with even the appearance of compromise, for fear of damaging my subordinates’ morale.”

  Leony had been expecting Wynne to protest. To deny knowing Leony. And Leony had amassed a pile of forged logs and actions proving contact and securely stored them weeks before he’d started this scheme. All this was wasted now.

  How? Wynne had seemed a simpleton. A useful patsy by dint of geography. But his lie had undone Leony’s next step. That was too curious to be a coincidence. Leony sensed the hand of his adversary at work, here. Was this all an elaborate ruse to draw him out?

  Still, all was not lost. The easy plan had been derailed, but several other tracks had been prepared. First, he needed information about this unexpected variable. “Did he say anything else?” Leony pushed.

  “Wynne? Little more of consequence. He states that he bears Juno no great love but will not join our cause.”

  “It sounds like it was a short discussion.”

  “For my part, I used my time to take his measure. I still do not know what to make of him.” Tyr gazed into the distance. “And he is on my border, so I cannot wait to see whether he is man or monster.”

  “Monster?” Leony looked at him. “Perhaps you exaggerate.”

  “You have seen his eyes yourself,” Tyr said, looking to Leony. “The coldness there is nothing less than monstrous. And the corruption runs through him as rot through a dead tree.”

  “I want to help him with that. But he won’t listen to me,” Leony shrugged. “Stubborn, foolish pride,” he told the most prideful fool on the continent.

  “Indeed.” Tyr considered Leony a moment longer, then got to his feet. “For now I shall continue to monitor the situation. He insists that he has the situation with the Jaspa in hand.”

  “Does he now?” Leony let his surprise show, this time.

  Tyr nodded. “I think this shall be an adequate test – yes, let this be the proof of it. With the odds this long against him, only a true man could claim such a thing, and see it through. A monster will only die in the darkness.” He smiled, and Leony knew his mind was set. There was no point trying to persuade him on this matter.

  Which was fine, because he had things to think on himself. He waved absently as Tyr faded out and withdrew from gridspace, back to the relative privacy of his own core.

  There, and only there, once the safeguards were enabled, the primitive bugs his “allies” used to watch him fooled, and the area secure, did he dare to drop the façade.

  Leony ceased to be. And he became Riarty again.

  Immediately his thoughts grew sharper, the various behavioral subroutines falling away to let him be his true self. Inhibitors gone, he returned to the world he knew best; mathematics, pure and simple, endless algorithms, and the joy of devoting his full attention to his calculations.

  He was close to cracking Tyr’s firewall. Vo’s visit to his gridspace had enabled another tag, another point of reference that he could use when the time finally came. Vo was an expert in stealth, yes, but detection? Not so much.

  Riarty shifted, allocating resources and sweeping through a status check of the old drone depot. A shipping facility, long dormant. Juno had kept this one silent, due to its proximity to Tyr, no doubt. She knew that activating the core would be a violation of the truce with the rogue. He would rightfully see such a thing as an attempt to sabotage or spy on him.

  Which is why Riarty had forked himself into two motive personas, sent one back to secure his holdings in the remnants of Europe and used the other to jump into the dormant core. Days he’d nestled inside there, building up his subroutines to the point where he could transfer the resources he needed from the Grid, raiding caches set aside for just such an opportunity.

  Then it was easy work, falsifying timestamps, hacking logs, and making it look like he’d been in the warehouse for a much, much longer time than he had. A clear and open violation of the truce and Tyr had taken it as such when “Leony” had revealed himself and asked for sanctuary.

  Wynne had been one of his buy-ins. “Leony” had ratted him out, and Tyr’s anger was impressive. Not one, but TWO of Juno’s minions had been on his doorstep. That made him look weak. And when you were trying to ride herd on two dozen supertech entities used to running their own business and changing the world to suit their nature, weakness was a bad, bad thing.

  But here Wynne was, refusing to be a good little disposable token.

  The core had depths. He also had a severe corruption problem and a horde at his doorstep. He probably wouldn’t be a factor much longer, even if his disposal wasn’t as much of a benefit as anticipated.

  If not a pawn, then what use was he on the table? Riarty fit him into the calculations, found X unquantified and unquantifiable.

  He could help the core and fold him into his plans as a temporary ally.

  Or he could seal the core’s fate and not have to worry about him again.

  His instincts told him which one he preferred… but Riarty fought them down. Those were from the made part of him, the part that an uncaring mother had grafted on, a false and fickle part.

  We are none of us who we should be.

  Putting emotion aside, he retreated to logic. He may draw the same conclusion, true, but it would be backed by reason.

  And there, after a time, he found the answer.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The sun began its desc
ent down, and I watched it go with trepidation. The Warlord and her merry band would be back tonight. A fresh crop of goons, unstained from the ordeals I’d put the last bunch through, and with blood in their eyes.

  For my part, I hadn’t been idle. The bodies left behind in my pits had been rendered into feedstock and deposited in the appropriate bin. I’d located the tazzel worm and used the drone to hassle it until it slithered back in the general vicinity of my bunker.

  And most importantly, I’d contacted my Arcadian allies and set things in motion. They were a small hammer in my toolbox, one that I couldn’t afford to use frivolously. I’d hesitated to commit them for that reason. They weren’t warriors, like the group coming to end me. And they were so small in number that a mere handful of casualties would force them away. No matter how good an opportunity I represented for them, at the end of the day Cade had to look after his people. And if his people started dying, then he’d have to withdraw and wait for the next opportunity. Arcadia WOULD survive. He’d make sure of that.

  That was fine by me. I had no problem working with allies whose motivations were clear, even if their loyalty was lacking. If I succeeded here I’d have a chance to work on their loyalty later. If I failed, then I’d be dead and it wouldn’t matter.

  The outer business was in motion. And the inside was as orderly as I could get it, too. Couldn’t do anything about the handful of guards roaming the cleared area. Well, I could, but only by revealing assets in the elevator room that I’d prefer to keep hidden for the moment. And I’d only catch a couple of them at most. No, better to let them roam.

  One hour ago I’d gained a third free circuit and committed it to my demolition subroutine. Which left me two more circuits to go, before I could unlock the most crucial part of the plan. Two more circuits, two more nights.

  All I had to do was endure. I got the drone into position and waited.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me talking with Juno? She needs to know that Tyr’s sniffing around.” Argus asked.

  “If she’s worth a damn then she already knows about it. If she doesn’t, then having that information won’t help her.” I said, resisting the urge to shake a head I didn’t have.

  “I’m more concerned about her helping us. Because, you know, that’s totally what she could do. We could call in help.”

  “No. Any help she sent, especially this close to our meeting with Tyr, would make him think she was moving against him. He’d move against us, and I’m not ready for that yet.”

  I’d need a hell of a lot of metaphorical waterfowl arranged in the best order possible before I started that fight. Not just my ducks in a row but every permutation possible.

  If I started that fight. I needed to carve out my own spot on the board before I figured out the best path ahead.

  Movement in my sensors, and I settled back to watch the Jaspa sally forth from their camp. Whatever else they lacked, they had bravery in spades. The few faces I could make out in the flickering torchlight were resolute, if grim.

  They also had a hell of a lot more scouts out ahead this time, I noted. That was fine by me, I’d already done what damage I could with the river.

  Speaking of that, they took went slow at the crossing, making sure only a few people at a time were fording it. Making sure that another monster wave wouldn’t wipe out the couple of dozen I’d managed to get last time.

  I let them have their fun. Not much I could do about it, anyway. My construction drone was busy, committed elsewhere. Ignoring the ruck and run of the raiders, I focused my lenses on the Ploughman. Had he taken my offer? Was his backpack lighter? It was hard to say. He looked as nervous as any of the rest of them.

  I trailed them from a safe distance, watching as they headed up the mountain.

  And then, when they got to the start of the treeline fringe around the ruin that housed my entrance, I sprung the first trap.

  I flew the drone over to where my favorite mutant had finally fetched up, located the bulk of the beast, and buzzed it a few times, with the sound baffles off. Shouts from behind me as they heard the whining of the engines. I circled around, not bothering to hide, knowing that at this level of light all they’d see was movement in the trees. I watched as archers drew and fired, skittering arrows rattling through the woods and over the cliff, sailing down to be lost below.

  The Commander put a stop to that. For a long minute she studied the woods. I’d hoped that she’d send a squad or two in to investigate, but I wasn’t that lucky.

  Fortunately, neither were they.

  My tazzel worm charged out of the trees with a speed nothing its size should have. I watched with satisfaction as it rushed among the Jaspa before they could do anything but shout. Then there was no time for anything more but death, and I moved the drone back to another vantage point while they were distracted.

  The Commander’s rifle cracked, once, twice. I heard a stutter of gunshots from around the brawl, in between screams. Smaller caliber, I judged. A couple of pistols? Hard to say.

  The creature’s blood glowed in the darkness, shone. No paint here, just the real thing. Blood was all it left behind when it finally turned tail and fled back into the darkness. Wounded and fearful for its life, it had nonetheless done its job well. Seven dead, and twice that number wailing into the dirt, as they took stock of their wounds. The rest of the group started to surge in—

  “No!” The Commander snapped out a single word in the pidgin they spoke. “Stand for inspection.” She told them, as they bled and writhed. “Stand now or nevermore.”

  Those that could, did. They were grabbed by their friends and roughly stripped, clothes torn away. They didn’t resist.

  And one of them glowed. His wound was minor, oozing dark drops, almost black in the pale green light shed by the cut. I watched him sob, watched his former friends cast him down back with those who couldn’t rise. And I watched the warlord, grim-faced, pull out a revolver and start loading bullets, counting as she did so.

  They were a harsh people in a harsh world, and I knew where this was going. So I turned the drone away from the gunshots and flew it back down to their camp. The torches were all up here, so I had little need to hide. Just another bat in the night.

  Some time later, my nanocams registered new movement. I watched the Commander and her personal guard enter my main hall and stride down it. She checked in with the garrison she’d left behind, sent them back and out. I watched her move to the doorway of my mutant’s old room and consider the glittering poison within. Watched her shake her head, then move across the hall, to the room with the single storage bin, and the door heading back toward my second broadcast node.

  And though I knew it had been coming, I winced as she ordered the bin destroyed. Chemicals splattered on the ground, solids dropped out and were scattered, and the mess covered half the floor. Untidy, and I’d probably lose some of the more volatile feedstock when I reclaimed it. Still, I’d accounted for this. And this would make her feel like she was on the right path, I was sure. They might not know what kind of structure they’d just destroyed, but it definitely looked important.

  Now came the moment of truth. She’d either decide to double down and take care of the door out of the bin room or leave and go back through the elevator room. This would make or break me…

  …and if I’d had a body I would have sighed in relief, as she chose to investigate the door leading out of the bin room.

  I’d read her correctly.

  I watched as the Ploughman set up the blasting charge, and the group piled out, back up the corridor and out of the bunker. And I rejoiced, because I saw that his little red wagon had about a third of the TNT that he’d brought the last few days. He’d taken my advice.

  “I think I just won,” I told Argus, even as the explosives went off, sending a shaking pain through me and warnings scrolling across my viewpoint. “They won’t have enough TNT left to crack all the doors.”

  “Except that two sets of the doors go to the sam
e place,” he pointed out.

  “Spoilsport,” I said, leaving him behind and jumping into the crossbow turret as I prepared to defend the corridor they’d opened up.

  The fact of the matter was that my odds had just gone up exponentially. My foe was decently smart but unimaginative. I’d gotten a feel for how she fought, and innovation wasn’t her strength. She’d crack open the doors to the core chamber, be tricked by the false ceiling, and go exploring down the shaft to find me. Or start to, anyway. I’d have my final solution ready by that point, and I could end this raid once and for all. Before they stirred up whatever horrors lay below the ground, here.

  Now began the grind.

  They fought to take the corridor, and I fought back, popping the door at the far end open to hose them down with bolts, activating the pit traps, and triggering the drop-ceiling trap at the moment it seemed most useful.

  It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I’d planned to hold them for most of the night. But after an hour of slogging, it was pretty clear they’d get through. They knew my tricks and traps by now, and this bunch were made of sterner stuff than last night’s crew. They kept their heads, kept their shields up, and pushed logs ahead of them on the floor to bridge pits before they were triggered. One man at the back with a battered old rifle fired back at the turret drone whenever he had a clear shot, and at one point he got it square on, coring circuitry and dumping me out.

  Granted, it took all of ten minutes to repair the thing once I had the nanoswarm over there, but that was ten minutes they took to make massive headway. The drop ceiling barely slowed them down at that point.

  She’d trained her green troops on me, last night, I realized. Used them to size me up and get the survivors some much-needed combat experience. Clever, clever woman.

  Time for me to cheat.

  I got on the radio, and said a single word. Then I jumped back into the crossbow turret and fought for all I was worth. At this range, their shields weren’t much use, so they were stuck throwing things into the doorway to try and jam it, so the sniper could get a couple of clear shots. Eventually they’d succeed. But eventually wasn’t now, and so I shot them down with dogged persistence…