by B. V. Larson
Yuki didn’t know what to say or do. Her budget hadn’t been cut. Her work hadn’t been questioned. But she’d been kicked off the TA-94 team all the same. In effect, she was as good as fired from her job.
“They can’t do this,” she said. “I’ve been working on the B-6 for three years. They aren’t even giving you a reason?”
Haas laughed bitterly. “Sure, sure, sure, you regret the disruption. A reason? They never explain anything. The orders say they’re from the Department of Energy, but they’re probably from Langley or some other quiet spider-hole. Maybe they’re connected with those robot people up in Boston. Does it matter? No, of course not. They want you, and they’ve ordered me to hand you over.”
“Can’t we do anything? Can’t I do anything?”
“Sure you can. You can quit. You’re not in the army. Oh—but wait a moment. You went and signed papers, didn’t you? That doctorate wasn’t cheap, was it? Can you pay those loans back? Maybe you got rich on the stock market last year?”
Yuki sat back and sighed. “They own me. For two more years.”
“Right,” Haas said. “I’m sorry. Just go with it. Maybe it will be fun.”
“When is this transfer effective?”
“Read the bottom of the sheet. It says it is effective immediately.”
“Immediately? What does that mean? I have to have at least a month to wrap things up here. Anything less would be criminal. Who will continue my work?”
Haas flicked his fingers into the air. “Ask the Feds about that when they talk to you. I’m sure they’ll give you a pillow to cry on.”
Yuki was stunned. She stood up. There wasn’t any time to spare. “I’ll back everything up and write a summary report,” she said to Haas. “If you find someone to replace me, they can pick up where I left off.”
“Sure, sure, sure,” he said, reaching for his tablet. He was already tapping at it as she left his office.
Yuki walked unsteadily toward her office. She was already cataloging critical steps. She felt lost and confused. Years’ worth of work might be lost, and she couldn’t think of anything she could do other than wrap it all up into the neatest package she could manage.
She didn’t make it all the way to her office before a hand reached out to stop her gently.
“Dr. Tanaka?”
Yuki froze, glaring at the fingers on her arm. They were thick, brown and immeasurably strong.
“Yes?”
The hand withdrew quickly.
“I’ve been following you, calling your name. I’m sorry ma’am, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.”
Yuki looked up at the man. He was good-looking, well-groomed, and his skin was dark. He was Indian, if she had to guess. The man wore a suit and tie—not the norm in the halls of the labs. He was too tall and well-built to be a scientist. He didn’t belong here, that was obvious. Not unless he worked in the security department.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“You can call me Sandeep.”
“Are you security?”
“No, Dr. Tanaka. Not exactly. I’m your escort.”
Immediately, she thought. They had meant what they’d said.
“I need to gather my things from my office. I have to make a few calls, too.”
“You can have five minutes in your office. No calls are necessary. We’ve made arrangements.”
She shook her head. “What? I can’t just leave. I have a cat at home.”
“As I said, we’ve made arrangements.”
Yuki stared at those big dark eyes for a moment. The man knew about her cat. He knew she lived alone. He knew everything about her. It was unnerving.
“Where are we going, anyway?” she heard herself say.
“We’re going…north,” he replied.
“What’s this all about?” she demanded with sudden vehemence. “You have to tell me, Sandeep, or I’m not going any farther.”
“I can tell you, Dr. Tanaka, that you’re needed. You have special skills, and your government requires them.”
She swallowed hard. To her mind, she was an inventor of odd-looking swimming robots. What could be so important about that?
“Something underwater?” she asked. “Has a submarine gone down? Most of my designs aren’t rated for serious depths. Nothing more than five thousand feet.”
“It’s a matter of national security,” Sandeep said. “I can’t tell you more until we arrive at the base. Are you coming or not?”
At the base, she thought. What base? She wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t bother. She knew he wouldn’t answer meaningfully. That was the way of things with blacked-out projects. She’d worked on secret projects before—much of what was done at the labs was secret—but she’d never worked on the serious stuff. She had the clearances, but this was the first time she’d dealt with anything that directly influenced national security.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Five minutes later, she found herself following a stranger out of the building and climbing into his waiting car. The nondescript government sedan was white and unadorned. He whisked her away to a helipad in the mountains above the lab, a helipad she’d never known existed. There, she boarded her first helicopter and flew away. It was amazingly quiet. She’d heard about quiet helicopters, but she’d never even seen a picture of one.
She tried to speak with her escort and the crew, but everyone aboard seemed deaf. They dodged or openly ignored her questions. By the time they landed at Travis Air Force base less than an hour later, she’d given up.
Sandeep hurriedly loaded her aboard a C-17 transport plane, but he did not board the plane with her. Even though he’d been akin to a kidnapper for her, she felt a sense of loss as they parted ways. Was this sensation something like a Stockholm-Syndrome effect, she wondered? She knew nothing about Sandeep, but at least she’d met him in a familiar environment.
As the massive plane thrummed into life, she was strapped into an uncomfortable jump-seat. She was given a parka and a thermal blanket, which she found alarming.
Sandeep had said they were traveling north—but how far north?
By the time the plane took off, she felt as if she was living in a dream—or maybe it was a nightmare.
Chapter 6
Aptos, California
Afternoon
Cole led his new boss to his old boss’ place. This weird guy, Perez, had taken the time to change into normal street clothes, but that was it. The guy seemed hell-bent on going straight to Tommy’s house today.
Although Cole didn’t like to admit it, he was feeling a little nervous. He kept reminding himself that there was no way Tommy could know they were coming—hell, he probably wasn’t even home.
Perez drove to the beach town of Aptos, following Cole’s directions. Cole guided him one turn at a time. Cole never gave him Tommy’s address, he just called out rights and lefts. Each turn brought them closer to the ocean.
“So,” Perez said, “what’s Tommy do—besides loan people money, that is.”
Cole shrugged. “The usual. He’s got a job and everything.”
Perez seemed surprised. He frowned harder as the two of them drove down San Miguel, winding closer and closer to the sea.
“He lives down here on the shoreline?” Perez asked.
“Yeah, what’d you think?”
“I didn’t realize…What’s his real name?”
“You ask way too many questions,” Cole complained. “What difference does it make?”
Perez snorted. “I paid you ten thousand bucks, and you won’t even tell me the mark’s name?”
Cole fidgeted in the passenger seat. “All right. His real name is Mackle.”
The car lurched and almost plowed into a tree. Perez stared at Cole. He seemed stunned. “Tom Mackle?”
“What? You know him?”
“No, not really. But isn’t he a lawyer or something?”
Cole eyed the smaller man. He nodded slowly. “You
know him.” He grinned. “Everybody who’s been screwed over by the law knows Tommy Mackle.”
Perez nodded and kept frowning. He seemed more concerned about Tommy’s real identity than he had been about getting his toe chopped off. Cole thought that was weird, but it made him happy that he’d managed to upset the man at last.
When they got to the final hairpin turn, Perez hit the brakes. There were cop cars down here, plus three fire trucks. The entire roadway was choked with official vehicles. They were running their flashers like it was the 4th of July. The second to last house on the street was a smoking ruin.
“Let me guess,” Perez said, “somebody beat us to it.”
“Yeah,” Cole said, staring. “That’s his place up there. Holy shit, I think someone blew it up. I can’t believe it.”
Perez smashed his fist on the steering wheel. “Damn it.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Cole said. “Do a U-turn, man. Never stare at the cops.”
Perez didn’t answer. Instead, he revved the car and they rolled swiftly toward the scene.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Cole demanded. “Those are cops. They’re everywhere. Turn around!”
Perez shook his head. “Two months,” he said. “I can’t believe it. Two whole months wasted.”
“What’s wrong with you, man?”
Perez parked the car and got out. He motioned for Cole to do the same. Cole did so reluctantly.
The cops were eyeing them with suspicion by this time. There was a bomb truck present in Mackle’s driveway. It was black and shiny, like a UPS truck that had been turned into a hearse. The cops had set up yellow tape and cordoned off the end of the street, but Perez pushed all that aside and walked right up to them.
“Hey detective,” one of the uniforms called out, recognizing Perez. “Didn’t know you were working on this case. We had a bomb go off and take out a house. Is that crazy or what?”
“Two months,” Perez said, shaking his head. “Is Mackle alive?”
The cop laughed and gestured toward the blackened husk that had been the lawyer’s house. “What do you think? By the way, who’s your friend? He’s leaving in a hurry.”
Perez looked back toward Cole, who’d finally figured out that he was in a very bad spot. He was walking quickly up the road.
“He was Mackle’s strongman. Go get him, will you?
“What’s the charge?”
“He tried to cut off one of my toes.”
The cop gave Perez a strange look, but he hustled after the fleeing Cole. They made the collar, and Cole was brought back to stand in front of the ruined house.
“You think he did it?” a Sergeant asked, looking Cole over with stern eyes.
“Him? No way.”
Perez frisked Cole, taking away his cutters and the ten thousand dollars he had stuffed under his shirt.
“Is that even real money?” Cole demanded.
“Yeah, it is. Just in case you wanted to count it.”
“You did all this—bet money and lost it, waited for me to come, then got me to lead you to Mackle? Just to take down the guy at the top?”
“That’s right, Cole. You’ll be charged with assault, racketeering and extortion among other things. Too bad Mackle is gone. We could have cut you a deal to turn state’s evidence. Now, there’s no bigger fish to fry.”
Cole licked his lips. His eyes looked wild. “I know things,” he said suddenly. “I know lots of things.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“I bet I know who did this, for one thing.”
“Who?”
Cole’s hands were cuffed, so he used his head to gesture down the street. The cops followed his motion. There was one more house in the row, the last house before the beach took over. Standing in front of it was a woman in jogging shorts. Her face was pretty in that no-makeup way that was so common in Santa Cruz. She looked worried, and her arms were crossed.
“See that chick over there? She’s some kind of a scientist from someplace. She hates Mackle, and Mackle always joked about her killing him one day. There she is, standing in her yard watching his house burn down. I’ve seen them argue for years. I’m a witness to Mackle’s complaints about her.”
Perez looked at the woman then back to Cole. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? Hell, half this town wanted Mackle dead. So what if she was part of that army?”
“You’re right,” Cole said. “Everyone hated Tommy. But how many of them are scientists? How many of them live next door? I bet she knows exactly how to make a bomb. Check it out, that’s all I’m saying. If you need a witness, I’m your man—in exchange for a deal, that is.”
Perez shrugged. “That’s pretty thin, but I’ll take you up on it. I have to admit, I can tell she doesn’t like us watching her. We’re making her nervous. She might know something.”
Cole grinned tightly as they pushed his over-sized head into the back of a squad car. The detective had screwed him, but he dared to hope he could wriggle free.
Chapter 7
Arctic Ocean Seabed
Darkness
After the radiation surge ended, Vepr ran aground. The submarine stopped with a jolt that threw Lev and Director Norin off their feet.
“Director Norin?” Lev asked, tapping at the fallen woman.
She didn’t respond.
“Kira? Can you stand?”
Nothing. Lev heaved himself onto his feet, swaying. How long had they been inside the reactor? He wasn’t sure. The boat was running on emergency battery power. The lights were red and dim. The reactor had shut down when the radiation surge was detected, retracting the rods to safety.
He checked the fallen figure of Director Norin carefully. She was face down in the water, but her suit was sealed and watertight. It had saved her.
He rolled her over and decided she was alive. He tried to haul her to her feet, but failed. He was tired, weak. He hoped it wasn’t the initial onset of a deadly radiation dose.
Acute radiation poisoning amounted to a set of serious health effects which materialized within twenty four hours of exposure to high amounts of ionizing radiation. The bombardment of human cellular structures was akin to puncturing each cell with many tiny pinholes. It was as if every cell in the body was shot by microscopically small bullets.
Molecular structures were damaged by any level of particle radiation, but in severe cases, the damage to DNA and other key structures within human cells prevented the cells from dividing normally. Symptoms arose within hours and could last for months. Vomiting, infections and bleeding were all on the list.
“Govno,” he said aloud. He stared down at the fallen form of the director. If ever he’d been faced with an opportunity to kill a deserving person, this was it. All he had to do was open her mask and let her drown in the steamy radioactive waters that surrounded them.
Instead, he hauled her up and carried her to the exit. She flopped over his back like a wet ragdoll. Reaching up to open the lock on the hatch, he hesitated. There was a porthole next to the hatch. He didn’t want to look through it, but he did so anyway.
Peering through fogged-over, lead-impregnated glass, he saw three of the engineers. They were all dead, lying in poses of agony on the floor. The radiation blast must have killed them. He was sure of that much. Was the radiation still hot out there? He couldn’t see a Geiger counter from his position. The dosimeter badges on the engineers were red, but that didn’t prove anything. Once they’d received a high dose, they were designed to turn red and stay that way.
He looked around the reactor thoughtfully. He couldn’t just sit in here. There was a fair amount of radiation hitting him right now, and his suit wouldn’t stop all of it. Every hour that passed was hazardous to one’s health. Already, he’d probably gotten enough of a dose to give him cancer in the future.
Lev slapped the release, climbed inside the airlock and cycled the air through it. All the while, he stared at the dead men, wondering if he’d just killed himself as well by coming ou
t of the reactor chamber. Perhaps he’d join them in a few moments on that steel deck.
When the lights dinged green, he passed through and escaped the cloying heat of the reactor. He slammed the hatch shut behind him and adjusted the load on his shoulder. Director Norin still hadn’t awakened, and part of him hoped she never would.
With the stoicism that his people were known for, Lev climbed over a dozen bodies on his way to the bridge. The power was out on most systems. The boat was running on batteries, and it seemed that many of the computerized systems were dead. Was the entire sub dead? He didn’t know, but not knowing didn’t change anything, so he continued onward.
The only good news came from the few working Geiger counters. The harsh blast of radiation that had killed the crew had faded and was now down to a tolerable level of rads per hour.
Climbing the last ladder in the last shaft, he reached the bridge. The corpses were everywhere. Men were draped over their consoles, having died at their posts.
Captain Chendev was among them. He was open-eyed and snarling. His gray teeth were rimed in blood.
Lev let go of the director on his back, letting her slide into a heap on the floor. She gave a tiny groan, or could that have been his imagination? He almost kicked her but held back his foot.
He looked at Chendev. He wasn’t a friend. He’d been a bastard. But he’d been a loyal sailor, and he’d fought to save his ship and his crew until the very end. Lev could respect that. The man hadn’t deserved such a death.
Lev walked carefully around the bridge, checking bodies and systems. Everyone was dead. Most of the computers were dead, too. They couldn’t take high levels of radiation any more than humans could. Only the most basic systems were operating, those with the thickest wires and the simplest designs.
Lev smiled grimly. For once, old fashioned soviet design had come in handy. Russians had always tended to over-build their military hardware. It was tough, and most systems weren’t interdependent. A hodge-podge of systems, yes, but many were still operating.