The Mandel Files, Volume 1

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Teddy never even broke stride.

  Eleanor trudged past the sentinel, dimly acknowledging how stately its huge head was, humiliated by cracked bone and ripped flesh. There was no honour in death, and it wasn’t even a true enemy.

  We malign life, she thought, suborning its grace and majesty to our own purpose, mocking it. Even the reservoir dolphins were a sin, so far from their true home, tame, unable to return. She knew water would never be a refuge for her again, not after tonight.

  The stream’s banks dipped down as they reached the forest, but the water remained knee-high. Tall acacias and virginciana trees threw boughs right across the stream; black heart leaves interlaced above Eleanor, blocking even the ashen phosphorescence of moonlit clouds. The trunks were knotted columns coiled by ivy and ipomoea vines; grape-cluster flower cascades dangled down, brushing against her head. A thick carpet of fleshy flowers covered the forest floor, tiny star shapes closed against the night, light grey in her image feed. She imagined the air would be thick with their scent if she removed her hood.

  The forest had to be a human concoction, a designer ideal of fey woodland wilderness. Eleanor was staggered by how much it must’ve cost.

  ‘OK,’ said Teddy. And she could hear him better this time. ‘So far, so good. Now, we’ve got a couple of lasers overlooking the stream before we reach the lake. Suzi, you trailblaze, clean ’em out. The rest of you keep watching for sentinels. This here is prime ambush country. When you leave the tree cover remember to keep yourselves below the water before you reach the lake; means crawling, but make fucking sure you don’t let more than your head show. Those Bofors masers will zap anything over fifty centimetres in diameter. If you do get hit, dive fast, wind up cannibal lunch otherwise.’

  ‘What about the people inside Wilholm?’ Victor asked. ‘They’ve got to know we’re here after the racket the pickets kicked up.’

  Teddy patted the message laser. ‘We put this on wide-beam and use morse code to rap with ’em.’

  ‘Morse code!’

  ‘Sure, man. Walshaw’s ex-military, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ Victor agreed.

  ‘Then he’ll know morse. Tell him to take a look at you. Means your hood’s gotta come off, though. You be careful.’

  ‘Careful. Christ.’

  ‘OK, let’s move,’ Teddy barked.

  Suzi took the lead, walking down the living wooden tunnel a couple of metres in front of Teddy.

  The forest was alive with creatures, picked out by the infrared as quick-moving pink blotches snaking around the trees. Squirrels, Eleanor guessed. More pink spots slipped across the ground, not even disturbing the flowers. It was faintly macabre, seeing the unseen. Distracting.

  The stream began to change, big quarried rocks had been used to line the banks, similar to marble. Water was frothing around their rough-hewn edges. It was getting slippery underfoot, Eleanor’s soles were sliding over loose oval stones. The water was climbing up over her knees.

  Suzi stopped in mid-stride, her jumpsuit glaring an all-over claret, rising swiftly towards vermilion. Eleanor marvelled at the girl’s cool as the AK carbine swung round slowly, picking out the laser hidden in the tree. She could never have done that, more like scream and run round in circles. Finally understanding what Teddy meant by discipline, far more than following orders. Curlicues of steam were rising from the stream around Suzi’s legs, the water bubbling. The girl had found the laser, taking sight, pulling the carbine’s trigger.

  A sentinel landed on Roddy’s back. Jaw clamped on his neck, hind legs raking his lower back with dagger-like claws.

  Eleanor screamed.

  Roddy pitched forwards, ridden down by the sentinel. Foaming water fountained up as the two writhed about beside her.

  ‘Behind you!’ someone yelled.

  Victor began firing his carbine back up the stream.

  Teddy was pointing his at Roddy and the sentinel, unable to shoot. The sentinel was tossing the man about as though he was a doll.

  Eleanor yanked the Braun from her belt, leaning forwards. Saturated black fur twisted into view below her outstretched hand, she jabbed the laser down until it hit something solid and tugged the trigger. There was a blur of infrared energy, flash of singeing fur.

  Hot pain smashed into her belly, ripping. Oblivion was smothering in soft black velvet—

  ‘… coming outta it.’

  ‘Come on gal, up you get.’

  Swirling pearl-grey mists resolved into two figures wearing energy dissipater jumpsuits. Hard lumpy stone pressed into Eleanor’s back. Water was gurgling round her feet.

  ‘The sentinel,’ she cried.

  ‘Dead,’ Teddy answered.

  There was absolutely no sensation coming from her abdomen; no cold, warmth, pain. Nothing. That frightened her more than having a nagging pain. She glanced down: a cauliflower oval of analgesic foam was clinging to the front of her jumpsuit. ‘Roddy?’

  ‘Giving St Peter a hard time. Come on, gal. Up.’

  Strong hands gripped under her shoulders, lifting. She stood, fighting the dizziness which blanked out her vision for a moment.

  ‘Can you carry anything?’

  ‘I – yes, I’ll try.’ Eleanor was curiously unmoved by Roddy’s death. His body had been dragged out of the stream, lying on the rocky bank, limbs bent oddly, head kinked at an impossible angle. They must’ve infused her with something; and she didn’t particularly mind, it was nice having thoughts this peaceful.

  Teddy handed her the Rockwell again, Nicole taking the second power unit. Suzi took up position on her flank. When Eleanor looked round she saw Victor limping behind her, a ring of analgesic foam around his left thigh.

  One dead, three walking wounded. If it wasn’t for the drug she knew she’d have given up right there and then.

  Teddy led them on.

  The stream continued its inexorable advance up Eleanor’s legs. Solid footing was hard to find, the fast current pushing insistently at the back of her knees. A raggedy curtain of pigtail ivy ribbons hung from the gnarled branches above her, long enough to trail in the water, an irritant she was constantly having to sweep aside. There were big boulders in the stream now, creating a turbulent white-water surface. The stone-lined banks were closing in, becoming steeper. She and Des were pressing together, Suzi occasionally bumping into her. The stream was being channelled for some reason.

  Teddy made them stop, then walked on alone, struggling to keep his balance. The second laser found him, inflaming his jumpsuit to a lambent crimson. His AK sent a burst of slugs back along the beam. A pyrotechnic shower of sparks erupted from a big acacia tree.

  ‘OK people, last stage. Easy does it.’ Teddy waited for the others to reach him, and they began to move off together.

  Eleanor heard a low rumbling coming from somewhere ahead. Couldn’t quite place the sound, her ears still had a residual ringing from the pickets. The water reached her waist.

  ‘Hey—’ Victor began.

  Teddy snarled a curse and vanished from view. Eleanor took a step forwards, and found the stream bed falling away. Instinct made her tighten her grip on the Rockwell, she knew she’d never be able to fight the water, she had to let it take her. Her feet were swept from under her, dunking her below the water. She breathed out, expelling air from the filter nozzle until she broke surface. Bobbing around like a piece of driftwood. The stone banks were like cliffs whizzing by. Ivy fronds slapped at her. She shifted the Rockwell round, hugging it to her numb chest. The rumbling was growing steadily louder. Memory placed it: waterfall.

  Eleanor twisted desperately, getting her feet out in front, locking her legs straight. Slaloming round the last bend she saw Wilholm manor dead ahead. The building was floodlit, its roof blanked out, hidden in shadow. Biolum lights glared from the windows of the top two storeys, the ground floor was a featureless slate-grey band. There was a vast expanse of flat exposed lawn surrounding it. Killing ground, she thought. Then she went over the lip.

&nb
sp; The waterfall wasn’t high, three metres. She seemed to hang in the air, floating down.

  MASER ATTACK, shouted scarlet graphics. The photon-amp image dimmed. Thick fog exploded around her.

  Eleanor hit the lake hard, her backside taking the impact. The Rockwell knocked the breath out of her. Don’t drop it, her only thought.

  The weight of the weapon and the jumpsuit held her down. Rising with terrible slowness, her lungs bursting. Water had defeated the photon amp, all she could see was a uniform powder-blue mist.

  Eleanor surfaced, keeping the water level above her shoulders, bracing herself for the graphic warning again. It remained off. Treading water. Somehow she’d turned round to face the waterfall. A dark figure shot over the lip, arms flapping at the air. The curving torrent of water behind it boiled furiously again as the manor’s Bofors masers fired.

  ‘Check in,’ a voice called out.

  ‘Teddy? Teddy, I’m here, it’s Eleanor.’

  ‘Christ, gal. OK, you still got the Rockwell?’

  Eleanor padded her one free hand, cumbersome in the thick garment, turning until she spotted him, a small mound protruding from the lake’s gently rippling surface. ‘I’ve got it.’

  ‘Thank you, sweet Jesus.’

  ‘Father. Suzi here.’

  ‘Victor held the power unit.’

  ‘Terrific.’

  Eleanor saw Teddy bring the message laser out of the water.

  ‘Shit,’ Des’s voice, high and panicky. ‘Being lasered.’

  There was a splash somewhere off to Eleanor’s left.

  ‘Nicole, ’nother unit.’

  The façade of the manor seemed to flicker, its brightness oscillating. Tiny points of bright-red light twinkled from the second-storey windows.

  LASER ATTACK. The photon-amp image went completely white.

  Eleanor drew a deep breath and sank below the surface. The photon-amp image reverted to blue with slashes of black. This time she could make slightly more sense of it; three intense dots of brighter blue above her, where the lasers from the manor were striking the surface, bubbles fizzing up around her. She kicked with her feet, moving away.

  ‘—look you bastards,’ Teddy was shouting as Eleanor came up. ‘Christ,’ he ducked below the lake.

  White. LASER ATTACK.

  The blueness was speckled with red and green, throbbing. Her lungs burnt. Can’t do this many more times.

  Up again.

  Droplets of water came in with the air. Eleanor coughed, swallowing some. It tasted foul.

  ‘They’ve stopped,’ Suzi called out.

  ‘Now what?’ Des asked.

  ‘Wait,’ said Teddy. ‘Eleanor, you and Victor come over to me, slow and easy. I wanna get that Rockwell sorted.’

  Eleanor rolled over, letting herself float on her back with the water lapping round her chin. Waving her feet, creeping towards Teddy. Will they think grouping together is hostile?

  Eleanor was about five metres short of Teddy when a voice boomed out from the manor. ‘Who the hell are you people?’ It sounded angry.

  Teddy began to flash the laser again. Eleanor stopped moving. Whatever morse code was, it seemed incredibly ponderous.

  ‘You want to come in and talk about Mandel? Who’ve you got as a guarantee?’

  ‘Do your thing, Victor,’ Teddy grunted.

  ‘Right.’ He submerged.

  Eleanor felt insufferably weary. Just wanted it all to be over. The infusion must be wearing off, she thought.

  Victor came up without his hood, hair plastered across his forehead.

  ‘Smile, man.’

  ‘Victor,’ the voice blared. ‘Hell, it is you. Are these people genuine? We’ve got them covered if they try and force you. Nod for yes. Shake for no.’

  ‘Jesus wept,’ said Teddy. ‘Paranoid or what.’

  ‘All right,’ said the voice. ‘And just how do you reckon on getting across the lawn? We can’t shut off the masers, and the ground floor’s sealed tight.’

  The message laser flashed out a long complicated story.

  ‘No way!’ the voice called.

  ‘Screw you, arsehole,’ Suzi shouted.

  ‘Throttle down, gal,’ said Teddy, and even he sounded tired. The message laser flashed once more.

  ‘All right,’ said the voice, ‘Listen good. Only Victor may use the cannon. If one of those plasma shots lands anywhere but on a maser you are dead.’

  ‘And up yours, too,’ said Teddy. ‘OK, let’s get the Rockwell together.’

  Eleanor started kicking again, her legs like lead. Teddy and Victor were moving forwards, towards the shore.

  ‘Touching ground,’ Teddy said. He was five metres short of the lawn.

  Eleanor came up beside him, toes prodding the viscous lake bed.

  ‘Let’s have it, gal.’

  Victor drifted up on the other side. He and Teddy started muttering at each other as they mated the Rockwell’s cable to the power unit by touch alone.

  With the Rockwell gone, Eleanor thought she’d be able to fly. She weighed nothing at all.

  Victor stuck the Rockwell’s targeting imager over his right eye, its cable coiling down below the water.

  ‘Ready,’ he said.

  Eleanor saw that Des, Suzi, and Nicole had swum up level with her. Unidentifiable, blind tumours of crêpe fabric. Behind them, on the shore where the trees bordered the lawn were two swift-moving red blobs. No, her mind cried. Enough, we’ve had enough. ‘Sentinels,’ she called out, voice rasping in her throat. ‘Sentinels, they’re coming.’

  Victor fired the first plasma bolt. A solar-bright fireball tearing through the night, overloading Eleanor’s photon amp. A near-ultrasonic whine ending in a stentorian thunderclap. One of the manor’s chimney stacks exploded.

  The sentinels were sprinting for the lake shore. Eleanor watched the two people closest to them churn about, trying to reach their weapons. Steam billowed up around one of them as the frantic motion lifted their shoulders out of the water. Eleanor started to swim breaststroke. Suzi had said the Braun was waterproof, although she had no idea if it would work in the water.

  Both sentinels leapt together.

  MASER ATTACK. Eleanor duckdived fast.

  Surfacing, just in time to hear the second concussion as more of the manor’s masonry was vaporized. Three more to go. A locust-swarm of slate fragments tumbled through the air high above Wilholm.

  The sentinels were in the water, two whirlpools of surf. Des was screaming. Eleanor headed for the nearest conflagration. Couldn’t even remember if she’d recharged the Braun.

  MASER ATTACK. Plunging.

  A sentinel shrieked in mortal terror, a keening that sliced right through Eleanor. The sound electrified, freezing her limbs. What in God’s name could a sentinel possibly fear? She saw it disappear below the surface of the lake, sucked down backwards in a maelstrom of bubbles. Something was floating inertly where it’d vanished, undulating with the swell.

  The third plasma bolt speared a small ornate rotunda, its detonation shockwave flinging smoking chunks of stone halfway across the lawn.

  Eleanor was looking straight at a sentinel three metres away. Its jaws were open showing a double layer of shark-teeth, huge eyes staring at her. Powerful bands of muscle rippled along its back as it paddled towards her.

  Cats can’t swim!

  Her feet sank into muck up to her ankles and she stood. MASER ATTACK. Counting off the seconds. One. A storm-cloud of steam raged around her. Two. THERMAL INPUT APPROACHING MAXIMUM SHUT CAPACITY. The sentinel was a metre and a half from her when its fur ignited. It yowled in pain, skin crisping, cracking, thick fluid oozing out. Three. Eleanor could feel her skin beginning to blister as a wave of searing heat poured through the jumpsuit insulation. The sentinel gave a convulsive shudder, its back was flayed down to its ribcage, skull exposed, eyes roasted. Blood gushed out of its mouth, splattering on her suit. Four. THERMAL SATURATION ALERT. Dead.

  Eleanor collapsed back into the la
ke, her own body on fire. Somewhere inside her belly she could feel dampness. The sentinel’s corpse sank as she floated up.

  A plasma bolt flashed overhead. Part of a very distant universe.

  Something shot up out of the water near by. ‘Got the bastard!’ Nicole.

  The marine-adept woman swam clumsily over to the floating shape. ‘Eleanor, hey, Eleanor, give me a hand with Suzi. Think she’s still alive.’

  ‘Go on, gal,’ Teddy called. ‘Masers are out.’

  Eleanor moved sluggishly. Between them they dragged Suzi on to the lawn. The girl’s jumpsuit was in tatters, blood soaking the grass. Eleanor knelt beside her, and tugged her hood off, water flooded out. Suzi’s tongue protruded.

  Victor appeared and bent to breathe air into her. Eleanor was thankful, she certainly didn’t have the strength left to resuscitate her.

  ‘Lost the aid kit,’ Nicole said dully. Her forearms were lacerated, tatters of skin hung loosely.

  ‘They’ll have something for her in the manor,’ said Teddy.

  Suzi spluttered weakly, liquids gurgling inside her.

  There was no sign of Des.

  ‘OK, let’s move,’ Teddy urged. ‘Remember the ground traps.’

  Eleanor slowly pulled her own hood off, sobbing softly. Proper colours deluged her eyes. The foam across her abdomen was flaking off, blood mingling with water in her lap.

  ‘Come on, gal,’ Teddy said. ‘You made it now. Jesus must really love you.’ He handed her his AK. ‘Safety’s off. Cover us if any more sentinels show.’

  Rabbits, she’d shot rabbits back at the kibbutz.

  Victor hoisted Suzi on to Teddy’s back, and the big man set off towards the manor, message laser banging against his side. They followed in single file as he traced a path across the lawn, Wilholm’s floodlights casting long spidery shadows as they wove round the traps.

  Flat metal slabs had slid out of the manor’s stonework to seal the ground floor’s doors and windows. Teddy set Suzi down against the wall and unslung a small pack.

  Eleanor and Victor watched the grounds, AKs held ready, as Teddy slapped a thermal-slice tape on the slab of metal covering a window. It was a thick flexible tube which hissed as it adhered to the slab.