by Kai O'Connal
There was also a log of soldiers and other workers with devices that would be easy to hack in his downtime. Just to give him something to do.
His focus on the host stopped when the five of them stepped through the door to Dome Two.
“Have mercy!” he said.
The structure was completely transparent, made up of thousands of five by five transparent triangles. The blue sky overhead glanced off the glass, or whatever it was, and cast a strata of rainbows down onto the staging area below. The middle of the dome was open to the snow and ice beneath it. And in the center of that was a ten-meter-wide hole.
All five of them approached the gaping crater and peered over the edge.
“Hey Pineapple, why don’t you jump down and see how far it goes?”
“Leung,” Pineapple turned his head to look around Elijah. “Why don’t I—”
“Hoi, chummers!” boomed a voice to their right. All eyes focused on the approaching ork. He was dressed in gray fatigue pants, black boots, and a black t-shirt. His tusks thrust up even with the lobes of his ears, and his white hair was pulled into a braid that slipped down his back. He skirted the edge of the crater and zeroed in on Elijah. “Professor, nice to meet you. I’m Gauntlet, Tango’s rigger.”
The two shook hands, and Elijah introduced the rest. Gauntlet faced the hole. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Did the Airdox drill do this?” Cao asked.
Gauntlet peered over at her. “Yes ma’am, it did. We did a few test runs yesterday. Brought the thing in and managed a good hundred meters—but we have to hang it from a crane to drill straight down. There’s no telling how deep this tower is, but the drills can do it.” He turned and pointed to an impressive pile of crates, pallets, machinery, and what appeared to be an all-terrain vehicle. “That’s my rig there. Can’t leave home without it.”
“Of course not, so we drag it from place to place and never use it,” a thick, heavily-accented voice said to their left. “It’s a boat anchor.”
Leung instantly recognized the troll from the dossier. Nikolai Monivski. He wasn’t as tall as Pineapple, evident when they stood side-by-side. And he was even less troll-like in person. To Leung, it looked as if someone had taken a human head, stuck pointed ears and a pair of tusks on it, and called it done. He approached the troll. “Leung.”
The troll’s hand was twice the size of his, but the grip was firm without crushing bone. He shook everyone’s hand equally. “Nice to meet all of you. Nikolai Monivski. Just call me Niko. I see you’ve already met our prima donna.”
Gauntlet scowled, but in a friendly way. Which is not easy for an ork.
Elijah held out his hand. “This … is quite an achievement. How much ice can the Airdox penetrate, and at what speed?”
Leung tuned the two of them out as Cao stepped up beside him. “I’m guessing you wanna drive one of those?”
“Oh … you have no idea. Just imagine the power …”
Gauntlet stepped away from Elijah and Kyrie and turned to Cao. “What was your name again?”
Cao stepped back, pulling her hood down to completely cover her face. “Cao.”
“Cao,” Gauntlet repeated the name. “That is a very interesting name. I like it. Cao … would you like to take a look inside the Airdox you will pilot?”
The goblin jerked her head up, pushing her hood back. Leung was used to the way she looked now, having worked with her. He cringed inwardly when he looked at Gauntlet to see his reaction to what the HMHVV had done to her—
Only the ork didn’t react at all. He had his elbow out, and still had it out when her hood fell back. Cao noticed this, and quickly pulled her hood up.
“You can’t see their majesty with that over your eyes.” Gauntlet extended his elbow to her again. “Take my arm, and I’ll take you on a tour. And if you keep that hood down, you might get to jack in …”
Pineapple took a step toward them as Gauntlet led Cao away. Leung glanced up at the big guy, marveling at how protective he’d become.
“Easy, now.” Kyrie said as she pushed at him rather ineffectually. “I think Cao’s in good hands.”
“The best,” Niko said. “Come on, and I’ll introduce you to the others.”
They followed the troll around the crater to the crates, and then behind them.
Standing behind the larger of the boxes was a tall, brunette woman. Her ears pegged her immediately, as did the slits in the center of her gray eyes. Her hooded shirt and jacket clung to her in all the right places. “Hey Niko, what’d you drag in now?”
“Tango, this is Elijah …” Niko paused, as if he’d forgotten Elijah’s last name.
“Tish,” Tango finished for him. “Glad to meet you. I’m Tango.” She held out her hand and shook his. “I’m pretty sure you’re nearly as excited as I am to be looking for something like the tower.”
“I assume you received dossiers on our team,” Elijah said.
“As I imagine you did for ours. I guess Mr. Johnson didn’t want us to be surprised by each other. And this must be Leung, your hacker.” She smiled, mainly with her eyes. “Your hardware-based hacker.”
As she said that, something flitted into Leung’s AR view. He stepped back as a pink and brown stuffed bear came nose to nose with him. He batted at it. “What the hell?”
“What is he looking at?” Kyrie stepped toward Leung, but Elijah held her back with a hand on her upper arm.
“Don’t you be mess’n with mah Sprite, chummah. Martin’s jus’ sayin’ hello.”
Leung turned toward the southern-accented voice. A dark-skinned woman in a hooded, light blue shirt, black vest, and nice-fitting pants stood by Tango. He recognized her from the dossiers, even with the hood shadowing her face. “Eyetooth.”
“That’s me.” She smirked.
Leung knew immediately what he was facing, since the woman had no gear whatsoever on her. “Great. Well, variety is the spice of life.”
“Right,” Kyrie said. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Leung pointed at Eyetooth. “No gear. And she sent a sprite in my face. They have the misfortune of having a technomancer for a hacker.”
“Misfortune?”
“No offense,” Leung said. “I’m sure you’re good and all, but if you don’t know the gear, if you don’t own the gear, than it’s tough for you to understand the gear. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, except I don’t have to own the gear. I am the gear.”
Leung worked very hard not to laugh at that. He had to admit Eyetooth was quick, and had attitude to spare.
Eyetooth turned to Tango. “Speaking of irrational prejudices, has Cake met these folks yet? He should be thrilled to have another troll around.”
“Cake have a problem with metas?”
“Cake has a problem with anything. She’s an equal-opportunity misanthrope mostly, but sometimes she rags on trolls because, as she says, there’s just more of them to hate.”
“Sounds awesome,” Pineapple said.
Leung figured it would be too much to ask that both teams got along. And why should they? They were in the coldest place on Earth, and a feud or two might be nice to heat things up—just as long as things didn’t get too hot to handle.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Hearn needed a week or two on the beach, not time spent floating next to a frozen wasteland. But after the failure to prevent Elijah and his team from getting the map, Tempest had told them they were going south, and Hearn didn’t see any room to object. And to be honest, he’d seen a lot worse punishments for failure in his lifetime than a trip to Antarctica.
The boat had an exceedingly low profile, almost like a nineteenth-century ironclad. It was better appointed, thankfully, with plenty of heaters to keep out the chill of the surrounding water. There were trideo screens and other entertainment offerings, but Hearn had to make do with the library of discs on the boat—Tempest had forbidden using the craft’s satellite linkup.
“We’d be blindingl
y, glaringly obvious to anyone who cared to look,” he said. “I will only be using it for select communications. That is all.”
Hearn would have asked what “select communications” meant if he thought there was any chance he would get an answer. Instead, he tried to pass time through the horrible indignity of playing Lakota Code against the less-than-capable artificial intelligences.
Dinner each night was taken in a small galley, and Hearn had the pleasure of Tempest’s presence. Sometimes that meant he was allowed to listen to discourses on criminal psychology, international economics, and twentieth-century wines; other times he was expected to sit in silence with the mage. At no time was he expected to initiate conversation. Or contribute ideas. Or, by and large, say anything at all.
But one night, during dessert, he did anyway.
“So, we’re here. Off the coast of Antarctica. What’s next?”
Tempest swirled brandy in a large snifter, and did not look up or react in any fashion. Two minutes passed, and Hearn assumed he wasn’t going to get an answer. But then Tempest spoke.
“Like any good vintner, we are waiting for the right time.”
“I thought the right time was before Elijah got the map. He has it. Why are we okay with that now?”
“Because there are many more moving parts to this besides Elijah and the map. They lined up once in a way that provided an opportunity that we failed to seize. They will line up again, and this time we will be ready to act.”
After another pause, Hearn said “I guess that’s as many details as I’m going to get.”
Tempest stood and drained his entire snifter in one gulp. Hearn imagined he could hear the editors of Wine Spectator having multiple coronaries.
“Both of us should consider ourselves fortunate not to have bullets in our skulls. That should be enough to keep us content. Information is a luxury we don’t need at the moment. We’ll know what we need to know when we need to know it.”
He walked off. Hearn sat for a while and listened to the icy water bend the boat’s hull.
It didn’t take long for people to go their separate ways. Leung and Eyetooth walked off trading insults, Cao was checking out gear with Gauntlet, and Pineapple and Kyrie had gone back to the tent. That meant Elijah could spend a few minutes along with Tango, which was probably a good thing.
She apparently had the same thought, and spoke before he could say anything. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you. Privately?”
Elijah frowned. Everyone in the area appeared busy, packing crates and fastening them onto large pallets in the Dome. “I don’t believe we will be bothered here.”
Tango bowed slightly. “As you wish. I think we need to talk about chain of command.”
“In what sense?”
“I’ll be direct. I don’t like being second in command.”
“Who said you were?”
“I get the feeling that you like being in control.”
“I suppose I lead the team, but I’m hardly in control of it. And for the most part, that’s fine with me.”
“But you’re the one with the knowledge of the map. You’re the one Mr. Johnson wants me to defer to. And I don’t like it.”
Ah … Elijah kept his facial features schooled into something close to blank. He was listening to her, yes, but he was also watching her move. Much of her body language reminded him of Kyrie. It wasn’t something he believed anyone would notice of an acquaintance, but after years as working as partners on jobs, he had learned to read her physical cues.
And this elf had many of the same cues. From that, he drew the conclusion that Tango was a physical adept, much like Kyrie, though he had no way of pinpointing her specialty. He was pretty sure that, like Kyrie, she would be formidable in a fight.
Tango had gone silent, watching him watching her. He decided he’d better say something.
“I can assure you, Tango, that I am not in charge of anything save the welfare of the people of my team. I want to keep Mr. Johnson happy, and I want to keep everyone on our side alive. I assume that matches your own goals.”
Tango regarded him for another few seconds. Then, “Bullshit. Those aren’t your main goals. You’re here to see that tower. You’re here to satisfy your curiosity.”
Elijah considered her statements, and then nodded. “Yes. You’re right.”
“Then you’ll understand that I will put a bullet in your brain if I find you putting myself or any of my people in danger.”
“Big talk from such a small girl,” Pineapple said as he held his Manhunter less than a meter away from the back of the elf’s head. “Care to rephrase that?”
Elijah was just as surprised as Tango. He hadn’t sensed the troll coming back. The adept’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t move.
“Hey!” Gauntlet and Cao ran toward them. They were both dressed in their outside clothes and dusted with snow. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Tango said. “I was having a nice little talk with the professor. Just setting some ground rules.”
Gauntlet looked at the Manhunter. “Uh-huh. She being all giddy again?”
Elijah and Pineapple both gave the ork a confused look. Tango was many things, but the arcanoarcheologist did not consider her to be giddy.
“Pineapple, put the gun down.” Cao had her hood pushed all the way back, her entire face visible.
Pineapple shrugged and lowered it. “She threatened Elijah.”
“If she did, it’s only because she wants first crack at that tower.” Gauntlet put his hands on his hips. “Don’t let her fool you. Tango’s a nutcase when it comes to artifacts.”
The elf’s demeanor changed abruptly. The cool, calculating, tall elf became what Elijah could only define as, well, a giddy schoolgirl. She lowered her shoulders and her head before punching Gauntlet in the shoulder.
“Stop …” she smiled at Elijah. “Okay, it’s true. I’m just … I’m so excited to be digging here in Antarctica for a lost piece of history. And … you intimidate me, a little. I mean, I’ve heard of you—who hasn’t? I just wanted to show you I’m tough enough to be here, and I want to see what’s in that tower even more than you!”
The quick change was giving Elijah a headache. He took a step back, as did Pineapple. The troll’s face was a perfect representation of the mixture of distrust and pure shock the mage felt on the inside. Gauntlet asked if Tango could be excused, because they needed to go over some things. She waved at them before turning away. “We’ll see you at five.”
Elijah watched the two of them walk to the excavator, their heads together in conversation.
“What’s going on?” Cao said as she looked from Elijah to Pineapple.
“I have no fuckin’ clue.” Pineapple pointed his weapon barrel up on his shoulder. “But that is one scary dandelion eater.”
Elijah nodded slowly. “Couldn’t agree with you more.”
Dome One was where they hid the hi-tech. Trideo displays floated over several manned stations, showing orbital trajectories of satellites as well as aircraft paths and world broadcast stations. Elijah led the group into a glass enclosed office. The other team had already gathered inside, as well as a few official representatives of their employer. Elijah half-expected to see Mr. Johnson show up, but so far there was no sign of him.
The entire meeting was visible to anyone outside.
Elijah and Tango stood up front and introduced themselves, officially. Elijah gave them an abbreviated version of what he had seen on the map. Afterward, Tango gave quick list of the equipment packed and ready to go.
“Where, exactly, are we going?” a stern voice asked.
Elijah knew her the second he saw her. She held herself like a fighter, arms at her sides, her hands unclenched. A katana hilt stood at the ready behind her shoulder, and bands of leather sheathed two short swords on her thighs. She wore only a black tank top,
black fatigue pants, and combat boots. Her hair had been completely shaved off, except for a yin and yang pattern grown on the back of her head. Her skin was deep bronze, and he pegged her as hailing from near Abu Dhabi.
“That’s a great question, Cake.” Tango pointed at Eyetooth. “Our investigator will be tasked to go over the data gleaned from the Matrix—”
“Both of our hackers—” Elijah emphasized the first word as he spoke over Tango “—will be going over whatever information we can get about who else has been looking for the map and what they intend to do with it. Tango and I will oversee this process, and we’ll also make plans for what happens once we reach the tower. The rest of you—” he looked around. “Make sure you’re all packed and ready to go on a moment’s notice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Leung sat on the edge of the saucer-shaped part of the Space Needle, his legs dangling over the side. He closed his eyes as the evening breeze caressed his face and brushed his hair from his forehead. It was an impressive build. A lot of time and care had been put into this replica of Seattle. He’d hacked this node because his agent had picked up something map-related on it. And after three days of mindless, endless scouring of the Matrix, he was ready to follow any lead, no matter how tenuous.
At first, it felt as if his own purpose for being there was moot. Eyetooth had found several references to the tower on the first day, and proudly handed them over to Tango. After learning the documents referencing the tower could have ties to the Atlanteans, he’d tuned it all out. Elijah looked as if he would wet his pants, but that was about as far as it went once they realized the information didn’t bring them any closer to the tower’s location.