by Mark Walden
Nero listened to the urgent chatter that was coming over the security team’s radios. He doubted that Malpense had really come up with something that would derail Cypher’s plans, but as things stood they had no chance. They needed an edge badly and if Otto Malpense could give them that then perhaps they might have a little hope after all.
The huge transport helicopter landed gently on the crater pad, the dozens of Cypher’s mechanical assassins that had already entered the crater forming a protective cordon around it. Cypher stepped down from the helicopter and surveyed the scene with satisfaction. So far everything was going according to plan. It was now just a matter of time before he had full control of H.I.V.E., and once he did no one could stop him.
A technician ran up to him and reported breathlessly. ‘We’ve tried the standard cutting equipment on the blast doors, sir, and we’ve barely made a scratch. It could take hours to get inside that way.’
‘Then it is fortunate that we brought along a more effective method,’ Cypher said casually, glancing over at the two large crates that the helicopter had winched down on to the pad just a couple of minutes earlier. ‘Are they ready?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the technician replied, glancing down at the tablet computer he was carrying. ‘The power-up cycle is complete and all system checks are showing green lights. They’re good to go.’
‘Excellent. There is no reason to delay, then. Let’s get this over with,’ Cypher said, pulling a small black remote control from his inside pocket. He pointed the control at the pair of crates and pressed a button. The front panel of each crate slowly lowered forward and after a moment a familiar array of red lights lit up the gloom in each one. With a heavy thud the first of the giant assassin robots stepped out of its crate. They were of the same design as the one that Cypher had pitted against Raven, and if one had been enough to deal with her then he saw no reason why he should need more than two to take H.I.V.E.
The behemoths stomped towards Cypher, each step sending a tiny tremor through the floor, and stood neatly in front of him.
‘Awaiting orders,’ the machine on the left said in its harsh mechanical voice.
‘That door,’ Cypher said, pointing at the sealed blast door. ‘Remove it.’
‘Understood,’ the robot replied, and both the machines turned and walked towards the door.
There was no subtlety in their approach as the huge robots began pounding on the door with their enormous wrecking-ball fists. Almost immediately the door started to dent and become deformed and after just a couple of minutes it began to slowly buckle under the relentless hammering. The noise was deafening.
‘Give the order for the assault units to gather here. Once those doors come down we go in hard,’ Cypher said to the technician, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the noise of the robots assaulting the door.
‘What are your orders should we encounter defensive forces?’ the technician asked nervously.
‘Kill anyone who resists,’ Cypher said calmly.
Nigel had stopped worrying about security patrols. He and Franz had encountered several squads on their way to the library but none of them had stopped and questioned them on why they were outside of their accommodation block. In fact they looked as if they had altogether more pressing concerns, judging by the looks of fear on some of their faces. Oh yes, Nigel had stopped worrying about the security guards – now he was too busy worrying about whatever it was that had them frightened.
The two boys walked down another deserted corridor, only dimly lit by the emergency power that was sustaining H.I.V.E.
‘It’s quiet . . .’ Franz said.
‘If you say “too quiet” now I’ll never speak to you again,’ Nigel said quickly.
‘You are having the hornet in your hat about something,’ Franz said, looking fed up.
‘It’s bee in your bonnet, and yes, I am worried. Why has every security patrol we’ve seen been running somewhere and why are they all too busy to care what we’re doing?’ Nigel asked.
‘I am not sure, but I am guessing that it has something to do with the alarms,’ Franz said, nodding wisely.
The fact that alarm sirens were still wailing throughout the base did suggest to Nigel that whatever was wrong was very serious and that it was still an ongoing problem.
‘Perhaps we should be heading back to the accommodation area,’ Franz said nervously. ‘I am thinking that under the circumstances it might be safer than . . . ummmmf.’
Franz was cut off in mid-sentence by Nigel’s hand over his mouth. Franz looked at his roommate with surprise and confusion but Nigel just raised a single finger to his lips and pointed towards the far end of the corridor. There, in the gloom, they could just make out the unmistakeable figures of Colonel Francisco, Block and Tackle. Nigel may not have known much about the current situation but Laura and Shelby had told him enough to know that Francisco was supposed to be in a cell and that security had been combing H.I.V.E., searching for Block and Tackle. They certainly weren’t supposed to be freely wandering the corridors of the school.
Nigel and Franz ducked back into the cover of a nearby classroom doorway and watched as the three fugitives stopped for a moment, appearing to engage in a whispered conversation before heading down another adjoining corridor. Nigel quietly pulled out his Blackbox and flipped it open, only to find, to his dismay, that it was dead, displaying just two words: ‘H.I.V.E.mind offline’.
‘Come on,’ said Nigel, starting off down the corridor after them.
‘Where are you going?’ Franz said plaintively.
‘I’m going to follow them, of course,’ Nigel replied.
‘Now why would you want to do that?’ Franz said, disbelief in his voice. ‘We should just find a security patrol and tell them.’
‘By the time we find a patrol and bring them back here those three will be long gone. We’ve got to follow them to wherever they’re going and then we find the guards,’ Nigel explained impatiently.
‘I am thinking that I am going to be regretting this,’ Franz said with a sigh. ‘Come on, then.’
Nigel set off down the corridor as quietly as he could, but Franz held back just for a moment.
‘Too quiet,’ he whispered to himself.
‘And then I was awoken by someone slapping me in the face,’ Wing said with a half-smile.
‘Yeah, again, sorry about that,’ Shelby said with a sheepish grin.
‘So you woke up in Cypher’s base and you had no idea what had happened?’ Laura asked.
‘None at all, my last memory was of the rooftop in Tokyo, so as you can imagine I was somewhat surprised to wake up at all,’ Wing explained.
‘No kidding,’ Shelby said. ‘Everyone just assumed you were dead.’
‘Indeed, I believe that was the intention,’ Wing replied. ‘Judging by the small puncture wound in my chest it seems that Cypher’s gun was loaded with some form of tranquiliser projectile that was designed to give the appearance of a lethal shot.’
‘And you only spoke to him twice?’ Laura asked.
‘Yes, once when I first awoke and he assured me that no harm would come to me as long as I cooperated and didn’t make any trouble,’ Wing said calmly, ‘and the second when he told me that I was being taken aboard a ship. The fact that I had not paid very much attention to his initial instruction to cooperate led to me being sedated for the transfer to the ship. That is really all I remember.’
Laura suddenly looked lost in thought.
‘Is there something troubling you, Laura?’ Wing asked softly.
‘Aye, why didn’t Cypher just kill you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad he didn’t,’ she hastily added, ‘but why go to all of the trouble of faking your death and then bringing you along on an operation like this? It all just seems needlessly risky, and if there’s one thing that we have learnt about Cypher over the past couple of days it’s that he’s not afraid of spilling blood to get what he wants.’
‘I had wondered the very same thin
g myself,’ Wing replied, ‘but I’m afraid I can offer no logical explanation for Cypher’s actions. What I do know is that we must stop him at all costs. From the hints he did drop when he spoke to me it was clear that this is his endgame. I shudder to think of what he might do if he takes H.I.V.E.’
‘Which is why we need to get off this boat,’ Shelby said firmly, ‘and the sooner the better.’
‘Agreed,’ Wing said. ‘You must tell me something first though. Is Otto OK?’ He seemed to be expecting the worst.
‘The last we heard he was fine,’ said Shelby, ‘and I’m guessing that he’s going to be very pleased to see you.’
‘That is good to hear,’ Wing said with obvious relief. ‘Cypher never gave any specifics but from the way he talked about it I feared that I might be the only survivor of the safe house.’
‘You very nearly were,’ Laura explained, ‘but by the sounds of things Raven managed to get Otto and herself out of there in one piece.’
‘That is the first good news I have had for some time,’ Wing said with a smile, ‘but now we must go before someone comes along to check that we’re all still safely locked up.’
‘You OK to walk?’ Shelby asked as Wing, somewhat unsteadily, got to his feet.
Wing suddenly realised something was missing. His hand flew to his chest and through the thin fabric of the pyjamas he was wearing he felt nothing but his own breastbone. His amulet was gone. In his mind’s eye he saw his mother handing him the tiny talisman, telling him that he must never let it fall into the wrong hands. He could make a reasonably good guess who had taken it. He had no idea what use Cypher could possibly have for it but he knew somehow that it was vital he retrieved it.
‘You sure you’re OK? You looked miles away for a second there,’ Laura said, her brow furrowing with concern.
‘I shall be fine, just the after-effects of the sedation,’ Wing said. ‘Let’s go.’
Otto and Raven walked into the science and technology department to find a scene of chaos. Technicians were running around the room in a frantic flurry of activity, carrying piles of paper, pushing trolleys full of equipment, hunched over the various computer terminals dotted around the room. They all wore the same expression of panic.
Sitting at a terminal at the far end of the room was Professor Pike. He seemed almost to be in a trance as his hand flew across the keyboards, entering strings of commands.
‘Professor,’ Raven said as they approached him. Getting no response she raised her voice. ‘Professor!’
The Professor suddenly snapped out of his trance and stared at Otto and Raven. For a moment he looked as if he didn’t recognise them but then he focused and a smile spread across his face.
‘Aah, Raven and Mr Malpense. It’s good you’re not dead,’ he said, still smiling.
‘Yes, we were quite pleased about that too,’ Otto said drily.
‘No, I mean it’s useful,’ the Professor continued. ‘I needed to speak to you both.’
‘Well, here we are,’ Raven said impatiently. She had no love for the technical department. She was no scientist and her definition of exciting technology was something that worked reliably and might save her life.
‘Yes, Mr Malpense, would you be so kind as to have a look at this for me,’ the Professor said, gesturing towards the terminal at which he had been working. Otto moved to the terminal and looked at the screen. It seemed that the Professor had been trying to break an encryption routine.
‘What is this?’ Otto asked.
‘That is the encryption that is protecting the Contessa’s unauthorised control of the security network,’ the Professor explained. ‘I’m afraid that I’m struggling to make any impression on it and I wondered what you thought.’
Flattered as Otto was by the fact that the Professor wanted to consult him about this he wasn’t sure how much help he could offer. He was good with computers, no doubt about that, but this sort of thing was more Laura’s speciality.
‘You should get Laura to look at this,’ Otto said, not looking away from the screen, ‘she’s the one who cracks encryption in her head.’
‘Yes, that would have been my first choice, but since Miss Brand has been kidnapped by the Contessa it wasn’t possible.’
‘What?’ Otto said, loudly enough to set several heads around the room swivelling in their direction.
‘I assumed you knew,’ the Professor said matter of factly. ‘The Contessa has taken her and Miss Trinity to Cypher’s ship. Had no one told you?’
‘No, they had not,’ Otto said, feeling a familiar anger rising in his chest. Cypher and the Contessa had a great deal to pay for.
‘So,’ the Professor said, gesturing at the terminal again, ‘any thoughts?’
Otto looked again at the encrypted code on the screen. He was no expert on encryption but he knew enough to see that whoever had put this together was very good. The encryption was sophisticated and multilayered, specifically designed to counter any attempts at cracking it.
‘It’s very good,’ Otto said after a couple of minutes. ‘Highly sophisticated. Whoever wrote this knew exactly what they were doing.’
‘Ah . . . yes, well, you see, that’s the slightly embarrassing part of all this,’ the Professor said quietly. ‘You see . . . well . . . um . . . I wrote it.’
Otto looked at the Professor with an expression of total confusion.
‘So why can’t you decrypt it?’ Otto asked.
‘Well, let’s just say that I had an encounter with the Contessa before I wrote it, and I wasn’t feeling quite myself,’ he said with an apologetic smile.
‘Great,’ Raven sighed. ‘Am I the only one around here who hasn’t had that witch inside my head?’
‘Surely H.I.V.E.mind could crack it,’ Otto said.
‘Yes, he probably could, but he’s offline right now, again thanks to the Contessa,’ the Professor explained.
‘And I take it that there’s no way to bring him back up in time?’ Otto said, knowing that what he had in mind was very much dependant on H.I.V.E.’s resident supercomputer being fully functional.
‘Well, there is a way, but it’s far too risky under the current circumstances,’ the Professor said. A full hardware reset would clear any encryption surrounding H.I.V.E.mind’s command routines, but with the mess that our systems are in at the moment there’s every chance that we’ll just lose what few basic systems we do still have control of,’ the Professor explained. ‘And it can only be done from H.I.V.E.’s data hub – there’s no remote access for that kind of thing.’
‘So we’ve got to switch H.I.V.E.mind off and back on again,’ Raven said, trying to boil the idea down to its essentials. ‘Well, it usually works with my computer.’
‘Unfortunately H.I.V.E.mind is rather more sophisticated than that. There’s a good reason that we’ve never done this before – there are no guarantees that he would ever work again,’ the Professor continued.
‘I’d say that at the moment that falls into the “chance we’ll have to take” category,’ Otto said, looking again at the apparently impregnable encryption that was surrounding H.I.V.E.mind’s systems.
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ the Professor said. ‘Doctor Nero did tell me to do everything necessary to bring our systems back online.’
‘I’ll escort you to the hub,’ Raven said. ‘Otto, you stay here.’
‘Actually, it would be helpful if Mr Malpense came with us,’ the Professor said. ‘Resetting the system is complicated and an extra pair of hands would be useful. No offence, Raven, but I doubt that you would be as much help, and time is of the essence here.’
If Raven was offended she gave no sign of it, she just shook her head.
‘Too dangerous. If Cypher’s machines get inside the school I want Malpense somewhere relatively safe, not running around the corridors. I’d rather keep him with me, but if we encounter more than one of those things I can’t guarantee to protect either of you.’
‘Actually,’ the Profe
ssor said, ‘that’s why I wanted to speak to you, Raven. I have something that might help with that.’
Raven raised a single eyebrow as the Professor gestured for her to follow him across to another workbench. Lying on the bench, surrounded by discarded components and hastily scribbled notes, were a pair of katanas, much like Raven’s own swords but with jet-black blades.
‘Thanks, Professor, but I’m rather attached to the girls,’ Raven said, putting one hand on the hilt of one of the swords that rested in crossed sheaths on her back. ‘I’m not looking for replacements.’
‘Let me give you a quick demonstration and see if you still feel the same,’ the Professor said with a mischievous grin. He pressed a stud on the hilt of one of the swords and tossed it to Raven, who caught it neatly. The sword was light and well-balanced but what was most intriguing was the faint trace of crackling dark purple energy that could be seen flickering along its striking edge.
‘I designed these after the staff in the physical training section complained that you were getting through rather too many wooden kendo swords during your training sessions. The energy field that you can see is a variable geometry projected force field.’
‘English please, Professor,’ Raven said, sweeping the sword slowly through the air.
‘Well, the sword has a normal blade as one would expect, but the force field that it is projecting can change its shape in a number of ways,’ the Professor explained, picking up the other black sword. ‘So, if for example you simply want to use it in practice combat you use this setting.’ He pressed another stud on the hilt of the blade and ran the blade of the sword across the palm of his hand. There was no gush of blood, in fact there was no mark at all on his palm.
‘As you can see, in this configuration the blade is quite blunt, ideal for practice or for simply subduing an opponent without serious injury, but in its other setting . . . well . . . it’s slightly different.’ The Professor picked up a metal ball from the workbench. ‘Raven, if you would be so kind.’