by V J Kavanagh
Steve glanced at his MPS, ‘So it is, please, come in.’
She deliberately brushed past Francois and settled down opposite Steve.
His gaze followed Francois to the door. ‘Tell Dee you’ll take command tonight. Morton can take my place and I’ll observe.’
Francois smiled, perhaps too much. ‘Of course. A toute à l’heure.’ The door latch fell with a clunk.
Steve rose and arched his back, stretching the khaki T-shirt over his trim body. Kacee followed his stare to the closed door. ‘Why the disappointed look?’
He perched down on the edge of the settee. ‘I didn’t realise we’d started.’
‘Oh, and now defensive.’ Something about Francois bothered him. Get to the back of the line.
Kacee opened her MCD and flashed a smile. ‘You know the drill, sit back and relax. This is a PSYOPS Advanced Leadership Evaluation, we’ll do part one here and the second part at Central.’
Every time she mentioned the EV, it triggered a fear response in him.
‘Tell me about Jason.’
Steve leant back. ‘Jason was a first rate Advocate, well liked, respected, a professional.’
She knew he’d be aware of the reason for asking, his sanitised response confirmed it.
‘And now he’s gone.’
‘Yes, now he’s gone.’
‘Do you have any animosity towards those who killed him?’
‘Animosity? No.’
His equanimity remained, but that was a lie and tied in with previous PSYOPS assessments. Steve had a latent vengeful trait. ‘Why not?’
‘Jason died protecting Continuity, doing his duty. Advocates can’t afford the luxury of sentiment, it corrupts, distracts.’
Now he was quoting from the manual. Every Advocate underwent emotional conditioning. The Council didn’t want them dwelling on the ethics of their duties. It had proved effective for ninety-nine percent of the candidates; she suspected Steve belonged to the other one percent.
‘Are you willing to die for Continuity?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Continuity represents the only hope for the human race, without Continuity humanity won’t survive.’
Still quoting from the manual.
‘Are you willing to die for Continuity?’
His brow furrowed. ‘Didn’t you just ask me that?’
‘Yes, and you gave me the answer of every cadet taking the CONSEC entrance exam.’
‘Okay. If Continuity fails, I’ve failed. I want my life to have meaning.’
‘You’d defend Continuity at any cost?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’
His eyes rolled. ‘Okay let’s hear it.’
She smiled, leant across the table and touched his knee. ‘I’m not your enemy Steve, not at all.’
A tap on her MCD opened his file. ‘In your last two EVs your compassion facet was above the norm. That isn’t a problem, until it relates to an Advocate Commander. Central believes you may care too much about something — or someone.’
‘I don’t know why they’d think that.’
Another lie. Perhaps it was Jason. According to Central, the only thing they didn’t share was a toothbrush. ‘You were close to Jason. Like brothers.’
He just managed to avoid crossing his arms. ‘Friendship isn’t a crime, not yet anyway.’
‘How do you feel about the Resistance?’
‘They’re a threat to everybody.’
‘Do you want to avenge Jason’s death?’
‘I want to find those responsible.’
‘And kill them?’
‘I’m not SIS.’
Kacee’s gaze dropped to the MCD. He’d used a truism to avoid a direct answer. His twin brother had died in a childhood accident; perhaps he’d used Jason as a surrogate. Which could mean his vengeance for Jason’s death was a manifestation of compassion — or culpability for his brother.
She could detect a lie through body language alone, but SIS wanted her to record his responses to the next questions. A facial thermogram would do that. She tapped the MCD. Steve picked up the bottle of chilled water and took a mouthful. Nice try. Although it did confirm he had something to hide.
She held up the MCD so it obscured his face. ‘Are you a member of the Resistance?’
‘What?’
‘Please Steve, yes or no.’
‘No!’
That’s true. ‘Do you believe someone is protecting you?’
‘No.’
Borderline. ‘Do you believe you’re unique?’
‘No.’
Borderline. Kacee tapped the screen; she didn’t want this recorded.
‘Are you going to apply for Citadel?’
‘No.’
True. ‘Are you in a personal relationship with someone you love?’
He swallowed the water. It was an old trick, and it still didn’t work.
‘No.’
That was a lie and confirmed why he didn’t want to join the other Advocates in cryostasis. Disappointing, but not surprising.
She lowered the MCD and smiled away the tension. ‘That’s a pass.’
‘Odd set of questions.’
She shrugged. ‘I just get to ask them.’
Kacee wanted to change direction. Steve made an interesting subject, way beyond the physical. ‘Rumour has it the Resistance have sabotaged Provenance’s engines.’
He quashed that with a headshake. ‘Even if they could get upstairs, I doubt they’d know about sequencing.’
‘Sequencing?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you really want to know?’
‘Sure.’ She still had no idea why SIS were interested in him.
‘Okay. Provenance’s beam core drives use anti-matter derived from rods of anti-hydrogen. The resultant pions produce the thrust, and magnetic coils regulate the annihilation, which in turn regulates the thrust. Because the rods have differing atomic weights and the length of the ejected muons has to be identical, critical mass can only occur when the rods enter the magnetic field in a specific sequence. The computations for the synchronisation rely on a sequence code, which in reality is just a big number.’
Kacee had lost it halfway through the second sentence. ‘So why can’t they recalculate the sequence?’
Steve captivated her with a gracious smile. ‘I’m sure they’ve tried, but the code is the basis for the computations, without it they don’t know where to start.’
‘How did they lose it?’
‘I don’t think it’s lost. I think someone introduced a Sequence Break Code.’
He broke eye contact and glanced down. He’d intended to add something, but that particular subject had run its course.
Kacee smoothed her leg. He reacted, as any man would, except he wasn’t like any man. Buried deep within his records was a secret medical report from when Steve first entered the Academy. Kacee had read it, and so probably had SIS. For the first time in her life, Kacee had met someone like her.
19:16 MON 23:10:2119
Intra Zone, Wiltshire, England, Sector 2
Beneath the pale haze of the dining room’s solitary lamp, Penny sat patiently at a table of four men. She’d given up trying to understand the Resistance’s antiquated views on women.
The latch flicked up and Terry peered around the door. ‘Coast’s clear. I mean canal.’
Penny smiled; her Dad had kept his sense of humour, no matter how life had tried to wring it out of him.
Uncle Celbrohn glowered opposite. He on the other hand had not. ‘Sit down, Terry.’
Ever since the loss of his wife’s restaurants, Penny had watched Celbrohn’s resentment fester. He’d become vindictive, devoid of compassion. That was probably why the Resistance had promoted him to Regional Commander.
Terry obeyed. ‘Sorry.’
Celbrohn’s beady eyes focused on the three dour
looking men at the end of the table. ‘Next week, we start training with the new rail guns; make sure your men are ready. I passed on the intelligence reports to headquarters. So far this month we’ve killed three Defenders and one Advocate. Sectors one and three eliminated another eight Defenders and two Advocates.’
His head slewed towards her. ‘How’s your boyfriend, Pen?’
‘Fine thanks, still working hard for the Food Ministry.’
‘He must have an important job.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
Celbrohn’s psychotic hatred worried her. He could rationalise what sane people could not. Penny blew into her hands. ‘Can I make my report? I’ve been at work all day.’
Her Dad’s hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Have something to eat before you go up.’
Penny smiled. ‘I will.’
Celbrohn shattered the congeniality, ‘Get on with it then.’
Penny swung her head back to her Uncle. ‘We’ve diverted part of a consignment of levaquin and remicade; I’ll take it on my rounds. Also, a defibrillator’s been replaced, I managed to hide the old one in the usual place, but someone will need to collect it.’
‘I’ll take care of that. What about the antibiotics?’
‘Not yet, we’ve barely enough for ourselves.’
Celbrohn leant towards her. ‘The Resistance are mobilising and the field hospitals need supplies. Now!’ Her uncle’s self-importance left no room for manners.
‘I’ll try again next week, but I’m not going to leave the hospital short.’
‘If you worked at a Continuity hospital you’d be up to your neck in medicine. Perhaps we should hijack another shipment.’
Penny stood. ‘You do what you want, but remember where they’ll go to make up the shortfall.’
Leaning down, she kissed Terry on the side of his head. ‘Night, Dad, see you in the morning.’
‘Before you go.’
She sighed and turned. ‘Yes, Uncle.’
‘I need more of those flying injectors.’
Penny’s despair broke through, ‘I can’t! They were delivered by mistake. What have you done with the others?’
A twisted smile skewed his moustache. ‘That’s an operational issue and as you and your dad don’t want to be involved, I’d better not say.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘You go and have your tea. I’ll take care of it.’
Penny headed for the kitchen, her appetite consumed by anxiety. She hadn’t joined for this. Uncle Celbrohn would gladly kill everyone not in the Resistance, including Steve.
22:59 MON 23:10:2119
TF 16, Hampshire, England, Sector 2
Steve kept to the edge of the tree-lined track. In the distance, the holographic observation towers, Defenders and Prefects shone out white against the ebony forest. He glanced up inside his helmet and connected to EAGLE-EYE. Within seconds, the overhead satellite relayed real-time tracking onto his head-up-display.
Three platinum and one gold dot approached the northeast corner. Seventeen red dots waited in and around the treatment plant compound. Each Holo-Sim had a built-in movement detector. If a Quad member strayed into range, it would emit a banshee wail and turn the hologram red.
Bo’s voice whispered in Steve’s earpiece, ‘Alpha two, alpha four, in position, over.’
Francois answered, ‘Alpha two, copy, out.’
Twenty metres from the compound, Steve turned into the woods and threaded his way through. He stopped at the sight of a barrel peeking out from under a moss-laden branch, raised his visor and stepped on a twig.
Bo reacted instantly, rolling away from the APR, withdrawing his Cogent and levelling it. ‘You are lucky you do not have wet trousers.’
Steve smiled. ‘Or lucky you can’t shoot straight.’ He knew Bo’s aim was as accurate as his assumption. A Cogent’s variable-voltage plasma ball affected bodily functions. The higher the setting, the less control you had.
Steve looked up into his helmet. ‘Fifteen seconds.’
Bo resumed his firing position, ‘Francois asks me to take ammunition on mission.’
Steve lay next to him. ‘Did he say why?’
‘No. I think it is part of APR test. He said he would pay me more.’
‘Keep taking the credits. If he’s after promotion he can pay for it.’
Steve lowered his visor and selected overview. One platinum dot remained at the northeast tree line, the other platinum and gold dot tracked south inside the perimeter. When the two dots reached middle distance they both moved towards the first concrete bunker. Francois hasn’t left anyone to cover him.
He lifted his visor and tapped Bo’s arm. ‘Tell Francois you’ve been acquired by a Prefect.’
‘Alpha two, alpha four, pinged, over.’
‘You - you are sure?’
Calm down Francois.
Bo shook his head. ‘Alpha four. Affirm, over.’
Steve counted to five before placing his hand on Bo’s shoulder plate. ‘Tell him you’re engaging and fire one off.’
‘Alpha four. Engaging, over.’ The silent forest boomed, forty metres ahead a tree crashed to the ground.
Steve glanced up into his helmet and watched the seconds tick by. After seven, a breathy Francois surrendered. ‘Alpha two, alpha four. Withdraw to romeo victor one, out.’
Steve exhaled his exasperation. Why?
A banshee wail pierced the night air and the seven-metre high OT on bunker A1 blazed red. Terrific. We’re all dead.
* * * *
Francois’s debrief had taken twenty minutes. Steve stood by the lounge fireplace and watched them leave.
‘I’ll see you all at breakfast. Francois, can we have a quick chat before you go up.’ As Bo closed the door, Steve took a seat opposite. ‘So how do you think it went?’
Francois slumped back. ‘I did not realise it was an ambush.’
‘It wasn’t — it was a UFO.’
Francois’s brow furrowed. ‘A UFO?’
‘Unforeseen obstacle.’
Francois’s brow remained furrowed, ‘Are you going to cancel the mission?’
Steve shook his head. ‘No, as I said earlier, we don’t have time to repeat the exercise. We’ll treat the mission as an extension. I’m curious why you bugged out so early, though. Bo was pinged and he engaged. That’s pretty routine.’
‘I believe we have been compromised.’
You certainly have. ‘Okay, but if it happens again, ignore it. If Bo needs support, he’ll ask.’
‘Will you report this?’
‘Report what? These things happen when a new Quad comes together, which reminds me, how did Morton do?’
‘He was acceptable, for a Gold Agent.’
‘Nothing unusual?’
‘No. Why?’
‘No reason.’ Steve’s concerns had gone beyond Francois’s reticence.
Someone thundered down the stairs.
The door sprung open and Dee burst in. ‘I need to talk.’
Steve turned back to Francois. ‘Sorry about this, do you mind?’
‘No, I am sure it is more important.’
Dee changed places with Francois and as the door latch fell, he arched forward. ‘I gotta a problem, man.’
‘Go on.’
‘Michelle’s pregnant.’
Dee’s head remained bowed; his restless hands writhed together.
In their three years in the Quad, Steve had never seen him afraid. Until now. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, she went to a Drone doc today, friend of Mom’s.’
Steve stroked his stubble. Contravening pregnancy laws carried harsh penalties. A Detention Centre and sterilisation awaited Dee’s sister. His parents faced expulsion to a resettlement area and Dee would finish his service as a Grey Defender. The Drone doctor wouldn’t be so fortunate.
‘Give me a few days, there might be somewhere.’ It would have to be Cool Breeze; Jason’s apartment was in a zo
ne. What would he tell Penny? The more he thought about it, the more tangled the lies became.
‘Thanks, man.’
‘I can’t promise anything, I’ve a lot on already.’
Dee’s brown eyes searched his face, ‘Jas?’
‘I need to get RS 26 out of the way first. What did you think of Francois?’
Dee leant back. ‘He’s way off on tactical. He and Morton left defilade, got picked up by the OT and bugged out. Jas would’ve sent him back, less an arm or two.’
‘How old do you think he is?’
‘I dunno, mid-twenties?’
‘When I scanned him, his biofield chrono came back as forty-one and yet his cellular senescence was off the scale.’
‘TYPE?’
‘Maybe. When we get back I’ll make some enquiries.’ Whatever his age, the enigmatic Francois was, according to his file, better qualified than both of them. Meaning someone in CONSEC Command had to be complicit in the deception.
Steve stood up and put his hand on Dee’s shoulder. ‘Get some rest, we’ll sort it out. And keep your eyes open, the Resistance might be closer than we think.’
08:12 TUE 24:10:2119
TF 16, Hampshire, England, Sector 2
Francois blinked at early-morning sunrays piercing the kitchen’s oily haze. His lips compacted; the malodour of fried food would ruin his new Paris-vert cashmere pullover. He would never understand why the English ate a peasant dinner for breakfast.
Everyone had a seat except Morton, who stood by the enormous red stove and broke eggs into a large blackened pan. The crackle of smoky fat mixed with the clink of metal against china.
A melange of food congested the rugged oak table: yoghurts, fruit salad, cereals, bread, jams. A blue platter of his croissants took centre stage; he would try to cultivate refinement. His brow creased at the sight of Dee. Americans believed that culture began with the invention of the neon light. Francois sat down opposite Steve and exchanged salutations.
To his left, Kacee’s red tipped fingers pulled apart a croissant. ‘These are lovely, so buttery.’
Across the table, Dee picked up a paper serviette and wiped his sledgehammer hands. ‘Puff bread.’
‘Yes, food for birds.’ Bo spoke with a full mouth, ejecting some of its contents onto the table.