The Lightbringer loomed over it all like a mountain, shadowing half the city at this early hour.
The car eased through floods of Congolese bicycling to work in the factories and greenhouses. The bicycles had batteries, like the battery that had replaced the gasoline engine in the 4x4. No traffic noise in Lightbringer City—just the music of African voices and bicycle bells. Despite everything, Hannah felt a twinge of pride as she saw the city through David’s wide eyes. The hellhole formerly known as California, and the war in Europe, seemed very far away.
Time to get to work. She checked her notifications.
Ten seconds later she was pinging Gurlp. “What the hell is this? An explosion on the moon?”
“That’s what it looks like, Shiplord. We obtained these images from Sky Station’s telescope.” Gurlp had finally taken the trouble to improve her English.
“At the south pole?”
“Yes.”
Dread clutched Hannah’s chest. “What’s Iristigut got to say about it?”
Pause. “He says everything is fine.”
“I want to talk to him.”
“Shiplord, the moon is below the horizon. We’ll have to wait ten hours before re-establishing the comms link.”
Hannah could not wait ten hours to find out what had happened. “OK, Gurlp. Meet me at the airport.”
David was staring at her. “Can I ask …?”
“A friend on the Lightbringer.”
“New … phone technology?”
Of course, he’d noticed that she was apparently talking into the air with no phone in sight.
“I have a chip in my head,” Hannah said, touching the scar on her forehead. “I guess I’m kind of like a cyborg.”
“Oh. Ha, ha.”
“David, I’m gonna leave you to handle the Chinese. They want to sell us REEs—rare earth elements—in exchange for weapons. We want the deal, but we need to drive a hard bargain, OK? We want them coming back for more. Also, they will probably ask for a factory tour, but that’s a no-no. Our IP does not leave this valley.”
David sat up straight and cracked his knuckles theatrically. “I used to negotiate with Hollywood studio heads. These guys won’t know what hit them.”
She bundled him and Sivine out of the car, telling Sivine to call the Lightbringer for another vehicle.
“Airport,” she said to Flifya. She was already calling ahead to the ground crew to make sure there was a plane fueled.
The rriksti had expanded their air force by buying up everything from Antonov transports to Cessnas. Half a hundred planes now stood in the Lightbringer’s morning shadow, dwarfed by the Hairsplitter and Bridgeburner. Hannah jumped out of the 4x4 and ran to the McDonnell Douglas 82. A whole short-hop jet, just for me? Why yes.
The plane flew across an imaginary line on the map into Rwandan airspace. Lake Kivu sparkled below, cradled amid green hills. The cone of Mt. Nyiragongo steamed. The rriksti pilot put the MD-82 down on a road leading into Goma, alongside the racket of pipeline construction.
Hannah, Gurlp, and Flifya commandeered a construction foreman’s jeep to drive into Goma and down to the waterfront. A speedboat took them out into the lake.
15 kilometers offshore, the KivuWatt drilling barge reared out of the haze.
Hannah found Ripstiggr below-decks, inspecting the maze of pipes and valves. His bio-antennas brushed the roof. Vulture-man, alien priest. Three hot, sweaty, tiring hours had passed since Hannah left Lightbringer City. She had almost begun to wish she hadn’t bothered coming. But here she was. Here, also, was the president of Rwanda. Hannah mechanically exchanged pleasantries with him, glad she’d put on another of her new Parisian designer outfits this morning, even if it was now wrinkled and less than fresh.
Then she dragged Ripstiggr up a ladder to the deck of the barge. Sun beat down on the water. Rwandan boys followed them, holding a parasol the size of a patio umbrella over their heads. Hannah snatched Ripstiggr’s field radio off his ear and flung it into the lake. Splash.
“What the fuck?” Ripstiggr said, reasonably.
“Did you blow up CELL?”
“Oh yeah, that. I did not.”
“So the Dealbreaker did not launch an ICBM from Sky Station, fitted with SRBs to help it reach the moon? And said ICBM did not just destroy CELL?”
“No. Yes, Hobo flew that TOPOL up to Sky Station. It’s still there. We’ll be adding more missiles to Sky Station’s arsenal as we acquire them.” Ripstiggr glanced up through his custom-made mirror shades at the African sky. “Orbital defences,” he said. “Every planet needs them. Wouldn’t you agree?” He laughed, Flifya laughed, even Gurlp laughed. Their easy defeat of humanity was such a great joke.
Hannah felt like screaming. “So what happened at CELL?”
“Here’s what Iristigut told me last night.” While I was sleeping off two bottles of wine, Hannah thought with self-loathing. “The humans tried to launch that crappy little shuttle they’ve got. It blew up a few seconds after take-off. The debris damaged the CELL surface facilities, but Iristigut thinks everything can be repaired.” Ripstiggr’s hair danced. He thought Iristigut’s travails were funny.
“Deaths?” Hannah said leadenly.
“Only the idiots on the shuttle.”
One of them might have been Skyler. She could see him making a desperate escape bid. Sacrificing his life for freedom.
The president of Rwanda emerged from the barge’s superstructure, beaming determinedly. Hannah couldn’t cope with him right now. She walked to the edge of the platform. Ripstiggr followed her, and the parasol boys followed them both.
In classic African style, the platform had no guard rail. The water lapped at the giant floats below. A few fishing boats sculled nearby, their crews standing up to get a look at the rriksti.
“I’m negotiating for the purchase of seventy percent of Lake Kivu’s methane,” Ripstiggr said. “When the pipeline’s completed …”
“We’ll turn on the spigot and light a match. Boom, hydrogen,” Hannah said wearily. “Stuff it into a fuel cell, and you have electicity. Divert some hydrogen over to the Lightbringer’s fusion core, and we’ll finally have enough volts to fire up the gauge field and kick off fusion. Then we can switch all the hydrogen over to fusion. It’s the perfect bootstrap. A few microwave relay stations later, we’re powering half of West Africa.”
“This will be the first of Earth’s continents to have fusion energy, thanks to us,” Ripstiggr said contentedly.
But this isn’t what I wanted, Hannah thought. It isn’t what I planned. Ripstiggr had bought the president of Rwanda and his inner circle with extroversion. Fusion energy for the masses … and for the kleptocrats, a magical cure for cancer. The same game was playing out across Africa. Even freaking Mugabe could now look forward to another decade or two in power. And it had all started with a carrot-and-stick act worked out by trial and error on one frightened propulsion engineer.
She pushed Ripstiggr off the platform. Flailing, he fell six meters into Lake Kivu. She jumped in after him.
Down, down to the water. A shock of cold. Then back up to the surface, kicking off her Parisian shoes, treading water.
Ripstiggr broke the surface, laughing wildly, his bio-antennas flinging rainbows into the air.
Above, Francophone cries of horror rent the day.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!” Ripstiggr called to Gurlp and Flifya, who were peering over the edge of the platform. “Not salty enough, but who cares?”
He swam over to Hannah, kissed her on the mouth, and began taking her dress off underwater. “You’ll sink,” he explained.
“You’ll burn.”
“I don’t care. I do not fucking care, Hannah.”
He was a fantastic swimmer. She’d had no idea.
Gurlp and Flifya arrowed into the water like Olympic divers. People jumped off the fishing boats and swam towards them, laughing and calling out. Hannah had dodged swimming lessons in school, but now she found that a bit of
languorous kicking was enough to keep her afloat. And the water felt heavenly.
The absurdity of her situation began to cool her anger. Skinnydipping with aliens in Lake Kivu! She really was a long way from California. And maybe, just maybe, she should stop trying to get back there.
Gurlp popped up to the surface, spitting out water. She said to Hannah, “Billions of people die on Imf. Thousands die when Liberator and Homemaker were lost.” These had been the other two ships of the Imfi invasion force. “Thousands more die when Lightbringer explodes. For a long time I wished I die, too. It’s not fair.”
“Oh, Gurlp.”
“But today I am happy. I love Earth! Thank you for bringing us here.”
Not knowing what to say, Hannah swam over and stroked Gurlp’s cheek. “We need to get you some waterproof SPF 50.”
The people from the fishing boats swam nearer. One of them waved a thin, pale arm. “Aunt Hannah!”
“Nate! Oh my God!” Hannah doggy-paddled to meet her nephew. “They said you were going on safari!”
“We did go on safari! We saw gorillas! Then we took a boat ride!” Nathan waved at Ripstiggr.
“Where’s Isabel?”
“There!” Nathan pointed.
Hannah squinted across the dazzling water. Her niece’s arms sliced the water in a steady rhythm. It looked like she was planning to swim all the way around the KivuWatt barge.
“She couldn’t wait to jump in,” Nathan said. “She really loves swimming.”
“I know,” Hannah said, remembering all those missed swim meets. “Is she still pissed, Nate?”
“Well … she kinda smiled when we saw the gorillas.”
That was good enough for Hannah. She swam after her niece in a clumsy breaststroke.
Isabel waited in the shadow of the floats until Hannah caught up with her.
“Whew!” Hannah said, clutching the weed-bearded float. “How do you make it look so easy?”
“It is easy. You’re fighting the water, Aunt Hannah. You have to just be in the water, like a fish.”
“Blop, blop, blop.” Hannah put her mouth underwater and bubbled like a fish.
Isabel smiled faintly. “Are you sleeping with that alien?”
The blunt question left her no way out. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t bother me, just so you know.” Isabel shrugged. “He’s kinda cool.”
“Did you know he’s a priest? He got his certification from the internet. Imfi version. I am dating a priest of Ystyggr.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “I used to be a regular person.”
“Nope,” Isabel said. “No woman who makes it to the top is just a regular person. Lean in, Aunt Hannah.”
Hannah laughed at the idea that she’d ‘made it to the top.’ She hoped Isabel was smart enough not to see her as a role model.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you. Ripstiggr was telling us about these orbital defenses they’re putting in space.”
“He told you about that?”
“Nate asked what that huge missile we got from Germany was for. So Ripstiggr was like, every planet needs orbital defenses.”
“Yeah.”
“But I was just wondering. The aliens are already here. So what are they worried about? There isn’t anything else out there … is there?”
CHAPTER 27
Jack lay on a beach. He could smell the sea. Hear seagulls crying. Feel the little waves rolling over his body …
… through his body.
No beach. No sea.
The ‘seagulls’ were rriksti talking. The smell was the smell of X-ray country. The cool waves were magical antioxidants, or good vibes, or the power of faith, healing him from the inside out.
Jack had always disliked extroversion, although he grudgingly appreciated its usefulness. He sat up. Brimming with wellbeing, more than a little horny. That’s what it did to you.
Seven rriksti stepped back, wearing the holier-than-thou expressions they always got when they worked their magic.
One of them was Nene. Looking around, he found that he was in in her clinic. Unlike Cleanmay’s gizmo-crammed domain, Nene’s clinic was just a room with several pallets on the floor. On every pallet lay a human being, naked in the steamy heat, apart from the bits wrapped in bandages. Rriksti squatted over them, hands pressed to their bodies.
Jack croaked, “What happened?”
“Harry Windsor, Colin McFarlane, and Peter Hill launched the Moon Express,” Nene said. “It exploded a few seconds after take-off. Do you know what happened?”
Jack got his legs under him. He braced his hands on his thighs, head drooping. “Fuck it. Why didn’t they wait for me?”
“Ask the dead, if they can talk! We have seven dead, counting those three schleerps, and fifteen injured. You were struck by a shard from the decontamination pipe. Thanks to your superior suit—that is, Alexei’s suit—you did not suffer suit decompression. Others were less fortunate.”
“Skyler?”
“He’s fine.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Nene.” He stood up. “Where is he? I’ve got to talk to him.”
“No, you do not.” In a flash of violence, Nene grabbed his arm and swung him around to face the wall. “Keelraiser is waiting for you.”
“I’m in no state.”
“Give him what he wants, Jack. He’s given you so much. It is your damn turn.”
She walked away. Jack tried to remember if he’d ever seen her this angry before. He thought not.
Well, she had reason. Jesus, what a clusterfuck.
He wandered out of the clinic, through the steamy, twilit maze of the rriksti operations sector. He considered simply walking away, but he would probably be re-arrested the minute he set foot on the other side of the sandwich wall. Besides, it was an honor thing, wasn’t it? Alexei and Nene had put him on his honor before. He’d betrayed their trust. He couldn’t let them down a second time.
He asked directions, found his way to a wall marked, in English, Moonlord. Slammed a fist on it.
“Use the damn sensor,” Keelraiser’s voice said in his headset.
Jack pressed his palm to the biometric reader. The wall ripped. The reader had been keyed to accept his handprint. He could’ve walked in here at any time.
He expected to be greeted by a blow from Keelraiser’s fist, and prepared to dodge, but all that came at him was the tendrils of a pot plant hanging from the ceiling.
His adrenaline ebbed. “Well?”
“Hang on,” Keelraiser said, from behind a cluster of computer monitors.
The desk took up half the small office. Human and rriksti computing equipment loaded it down. Jack recognized some of this stuff from the Cloudeater. Keelraiser must have set up a remote workstation so he could use the Cloudeater’s quantum computer while remaining physically present in the bunker. Jack stared at the sharp-jawed triangular face, the tiny ears, the black bio-antennas twitching as Keelraiser manipulated the computer’s radio interface. He recognized that Keelraiser had shut himself away again, like he’d done on the SoD.
Computers galore and a single mirip plant hanging from the ceiling. This place made Jack’s tent look like a five-star hotel. Well, three stars, anyway.
“You wanted to see me,” he said impatiently.
Keelraiser swung his chair around. He stared at Jack across the computer equipment. The silence lasted longer than it should have.
“Congratulations,” Keelraiser said eventually. “You’ve cost us our only chance to win this thing.”
“Is there anywhere to sit down? … No? You don’t get a lot of visitors, do you? I suppose James has to stay standing when he makes his reports, like a kid called into the headmaster’s office. Well, I’ve just recovered from a nasty knock, so if you don’t mind …”
Jack lowered himself onto the floor, leaning against the wall. He noted that the walls were radio-proof, like the walls of Alexei and Nene’s apartment. Privacy for me but not for thee. That was the rriksti way.
&nb
sp; “I could eat a horse. Extroversion always makes me hungry. I could do with something to drink, as well.”
Keelraiser stood up and came around his desk. He was barefoot, dressed in a dingy tank top and shorts—no Moonlord he, behind closed doors. He tossed a squeeze bottle at Jack, who caught it and drank. Water. Lukewarm.
Keelraiser said, “I’d planned to take the Cloudeater to Sky Station and then proceed, I suppose, as you were planning. Capture the ICBM they’ve just parked up there; drop it on the Lightbringer. I’ve spent the best part of a year convincing Ripstiggr I am on his side, all so that I’d have a chance of getting away with it. He still doesn’t trust me, of course. But I persuaded him that I wanted a piece of the action, which comes to the same thing. Now? His suspicions have been violently revived. We’ll never get a craft off the surface of the moon again. That ICBM will be aimed at us, and when we outlive our usefulness, they will launch it. You may have killed everyone on the moon—as well as your daring friends.”
Jack digested this for a few seconds. If true, it was a devastating revelation. “You should have told me earlier.”
“I did. I told you what I was planning before I’d even planned it.”
Maybe he had, at that.
If I can fool you, I can fool anyone.
Well, Keelraiser had fooled Jack. Completely.
So it ultimately made no difference. Even if the Imfi conquest of the moon had been one long deception, Keelraiser had played it to the hilt. And here they were.
CHAPTER 28
“I told you we should have done something before they got an ICBM up there,” Jack said, although he understood that recriminations were futile at this point. What Keelraiser had done, he’d done. What Jack had done, he’d done, likewise.
“It would have been pointless before they did. There’d have been nothing to capture.”
Jack didn’t feel like admitting that he had not actually known about any ICBM. His own plan had been far more of a long shot. “What’s the damage? I’ve been informed about the deaths.”
“Minor breakages at the waterworks. And in a nicely ironic twist, your hab was destroyed.”
Killshot: A First Contact Technothriller (Earth's Last Gambit Book 4) Page 19