by Mark Walden
‘He is being very strong,’ Franz said, placing his arm around his friend’s shoulders. ‘He will be OK, you will be seeing.’
‘I’m going back to my room,’ Nigel said as he took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. ‘Doctor Nero said I didn’t have to attend any classes, under the circumstances.’
‘I am coming with you,’ Franz said. ‘You should not be being on your own.’
‘Thanks,’ Nigel said with a weak smile, ‘but I don’t want to get you into any trouble.’
‘Nonsense,’ Franz insisted. ‘Anyone who is having the problem with this can be taking the short walk off the long pier.’ He took Nigel’s backpack, slung it over his own shoulder and walked off with him.
‘Poor Nigel,’ Laura said. ‘It just seems like one disaster after another around here at the moment.’
Nero made his way towards the Science and Technology department deep in thought. He hardly noticed as Raven walked up behind him.
‘Something on your mind?’ she asked, coming as close to startling him as anyone ever did.
‘I’ve just had to tell Nigel about his father,’ Nero said with a sigh. ‘His reaction was much as you would expect.’
‘How is Diabolus doing?’ Raven asked quietly.
‘He’s out of surgery,’ Nero said with a slight shake of his head, ‘but Doctor Scott says that it’s still touch and go.’
‘It could have been worse, Max,’ Raven said softly.
‘Which is exactly what I told Nigel, but it doesn’t alter the fact that he faces the prospect of losing his father for a second time.’
Until a year ago Nigel, like everyone else, had believed his father was dead. In actual fact Darkdoom had merely been in hiding after it became obvious that Number One was planning to have him killed. He had not been able to tell anyone of his plan without putting them at risk and that, unfortunately, included Nigel and his mother. Nigel had mourned his father then, and now he was facing the prospect of having to go through that all over again, except this time there would be no second chance.
‘I have better news,’ Raven said, and she quickly recounted her recent discovery of a potential area in which to search for Trent’s base of operations.
‘I see,’ Nero said thoughtfully as he absorbed the information. ‘It still seems rather like you will be looking for a needle in a haystack.’
‘It’s somewhere to start,’ Raven said. ‘It’s certainly more than we had twenty-four hours ago.’
‘Of course,’ Nero replied. ‘I assume you will want to return to your assignment immediately.’
‘Yes, I have a Shroud prepping for take-off right now. I just wanted to let you know that I was heading out again.’
‘Very well. Be careful, Natalya – I fear that we face opposition from within now as well,’ Nero said quietly.
‘It should be Trent that’s worried, not you,’ Raven replied with a grim smile.
She had started to walk away when Nero called after her.
‘Natalya, you know that I want Otto retrieved as much as anyone, but if that is not possible you may be left with a difficult choice to make.’ He looked her straight in the eye. ‘If it comes to it, Malpense is too dangerous to leave under Trent’s control. The attack on Darkdoom showed us that much. Try to take him alive, but if that is not possible you may have to eliminate the threat that he now represents. I cannot allow the rest of the ruling council to be picked off one by one. I hope you understand.’
‘Perfectly,’ Raven replied, her expression unreadable. ‘I will do whatever needs to be done.’
Nero simply nodded, and Raven hurried away towards the hangar. He paused for a moment, apparently lost in thought, before heading off in the other direction. As he walked away he failed to spot the figure hiding in the shadows behind a storage locker on one wall of the corridor. Once the passageway was clear, Wing stepped out of his hiding place, his face a mask of confusion and concern. He had overheard the entire conversation between Nero and Raven. Not only did it now seem that Raven had at least an idea of where Otto was, but it appeared that he had also become a threat to G.L.O.V.E. Wing knew what Otto was capable of, but he could not believe that he would willingly turn against his former friends and allies. That, however, did not change the fact that something very serious had obviously happened to Diabolus Darkdoom and that Otto was somehow involved . . . an incident that had driven Nero to sanction his execution if there was no alternative. That was something Wing would not allow to happen. He hurried down the corridor after Raven, not knowing exactly what he was going to do, but at the same time knowing that he had to do something.
Wing reached the hangar bay and made his way inside unnoticed. He hid behind an inactive refuelling rig and watched as Raven talked to a member of the ground crew who were prepping the Shroud for launch. He knew that he probably only had a couple of minutes and began slowly and silently to make his way across the hangar towards the idling drop ship. Raven finished her conversation and walked up the loading ramp at the rear of the Shroud. Wing was only thirty metres away now, concealed from view by the landing gear of one of the other identical aircraft that were lined up beside the pad. He watched as the last of the crew hurried away from the aircraft, their pre-flight checks complete. As the Shroud’s engines spun up, Wing took advantage of the distraction that they provided to dash across the open space between him and the landing ramp. When he was halfway across the pad the ramp began to close and he accelerated, sprinting towards the closing hatch and throwing himself through the shrinking gap just moments before it shut with a solid thunk. He landed in a crouch inside the cargo compartment, half expecting to hear Raven’s familiar voice asking him what on earth he thought he was doing, but the compartment was empty save for a couple of small equipment crates. He realised that Raven was probably up on the flight deck. She was, after all, perfectly capable of flying a Shroud herself. He crept silently forward through the cargo bay and slid behind the crates that were strapped to the floor at the other end. Outside, the noise from the engines rose to a high-pitched whine and the Shroud lifted off the pad. Wing had no idea what he was going to do when they reached their destination, but wherever they were going it was one step closer to finding Otto.
Otto sat in the large black leather chair in front of the array of monitors. His eyes were closed and to the untrained eye it would have looked very much like he was asleep. In truth he was fully immersed in the stream of data that was pouring in through the H.O.P.E. base’s network connection, filtering and assessing the information at an inhuman rate.
Sebastian Trent stood watching the boy. He had seen him do this on numerous occasions before, but he was still no closer to understanding what exactly it was that Malpense was doing or how his strange abilities worked. Dr Creed had assured him that Otto appeared to be fully recovered from his mysterious collapse in Sydney, but that did not change the fact that they still did not know what had happened or, even more worryingly, what part the unidentified object inside the boy’s head might have played in causing it. Trent did not like unknowns – in his business they almost invariably caused problems. He pressed the button on the panel next to him that severed Malpense’s connection with the external network and waited as the boy’s eyes slowly opened, unfocused at first, as if waking from a dream. Otto stepped out of the chair and turned to face Trent.
‘Report,’ Trent said impatiently.
‘G.L.O.V.E.net is quiet,’ Otto said, looking slightly annoyed, ‘which is hardly surprising under the circumstances. It would appear that the attack in Sydney has sent the remaining members of the ruling council scurrying for cover.’
‘I want a target,’ Trent said irritably. ‘We have to hit them again while they’re still off balance.’
‘I understand,’ Otto replied, ‘but until one of the council breaks cover there is nothing I can do.’
Trent looked carefully at the boy. He had no reason to doubt that what Malpense was telling him was true, but recent events had left him wit
h some doubts about the boy’s reliability.
‘Very well, we will try again in a few hours,’ he said, frowning. He would have preferred to leave Otto hooked up to the network feed indefinitely, but Creed had warned him against placing him under undue strain, at least for the next couple of days. Trent reminded himself that this was a complex game they were playing and that it might be some time before all the pieces were in the correct positions on the board for him to make his final devastating move.
‘Report to Ghost,’ Trent commanded. ‘We may not be able to find our next target yet, but that does not mean you cannot continue your preparations.’
Otto nodded and left the room. He walked through the hidden base that had become his home over the last few months and headed for the training area. Ghost was already there, moving effortlessly through a series of flowing unarmed attacks that combined elements of several different fighting styles. She noticed Otto after a couple of seconds and beckoned him over. She still wore the gleaming white armour that she had been in when he first met her. It wasn’t as if she could remove it, Otto reminded himself. It was as much part of her as her muscles and bones; removing it or shutting off any of the numerous cybernetic implants throughout her body would probably kill her. They didn’t just give her enormous strength and speed, they kept her alive. He had tried, out of curiosity, to see if his abilities would allow him to access the systems within the woman’s body, but the Animus’s behavioural programming would not allow it. He did not question the fact that this restraint had been placed on his abilities, he simply accepted it, just as he did with any of the instructions that had been implanted within him.
‘Defend yourself,’ Ghost said, throwing him a long, wooden bo staff from the rack of weapons mounted on the wall. Otto dropped into a defensive stance, feeling the Animus within his nervous system responding to the situation.
Ghost took an identical staff off the wall and launched a series of swipes at Otto’s body and legs. He blocked each swing effortlessly, the staff in his hands moving in a blur to counter her attacks. He could feel the Animus strengthening him from within, stimulating his muscles and improving his reaction times. It did not require conscious effort on his part – his body was slowly being programmed by these sessions with Ghost in just the same way as his brain had been programmed by Dr Creed. Otto felt no pride or satisfaction in these new abilities; it was simply what was expected of him, nothing more, nothing less. Ghost attacked again and Otto blocked her attacks just as effortlessly. For the briefest moment he had an odd sensation of déjà vu and in his head there was the fleeting image of a tall Asian boy with long hair. He dismissed the image from his mind – a memory glitch, that was all.
‘Good, you appear to have mastered that,’ Ghost said, taking the staff from him and placing it back on the rack. ‘Now let’s try something else.’ She took an automatic pistol from the wall and threw it to Otto.
‘Blind field strip, thirty seconds,’ Ghost said.
Otto dropped to his knees, placed the gun on the floor in front of him and closed his eyes.
‘Go,’ Ghost said. Otto’s hands were a blur, stripping the loaded magazine, slide, barrel assembly and recoil spring from the gun and laying the components carefully alongside each other on the floor. He paused just for a second and then put the pistol back together just as quickly. He placed the reassembled gun back on the floor and opened his eyes.
‘Nineteen seconds,’ Ghost said, her expression completely unreadable behind her smooth faceplate. ‘Over to the range, please.’
Otto walked over to the target range at the other side of the training room, took the ear protectors off the hook on the wall and placed them on his head.
‘Silhouette target, thirty metres,’ Ghost said, hitting a button on the wall that dropped the paper target from the ceiling. Otto raised the pistol in both hands and fired, emptying the clip. The man-sized target slid down the range towards them along a rail mounted on the ceiling. Ghost stepped forward as the target reached the firing line, studying the bullet holes in it. All but two of the hits were inside the red disc over the silhouette’s chest that indicated the centre of body mass.
‘Not bad. Room for improvement, but quite satisfactory,’ Ghost said with a nod. ‘You’re becoming quite the little assassin, Mr Malpense.’
Otto had a fleeting sense that this was not a good thing, but in an instant it was gone.
Dr Nero walked into the Science and Technology department as the students who had just finished their lesson with the Professor filed out, chattering amongst themselves. The Professor looked up from the workbench as Nero approached.
‘Good morning, Doctor Nero,’ the Professor said. ‘Raven told me what happened to Diabolus. How is he?’
‘Critical, but stable,’ Nero replied. ‘Doctor Scott was cautiously optimistic.’
‘That’s the best we can hope for under the circumstances, I suppose,’ the Professor said. ‘I take it this is not a social call.’
‘No,’ Nero agreed. ‘I need you to come with me. Bring a copy of that code you found hidden on the network, please.’
The Professor went into his private workshop at the rear of the classroom and emerged a minute later carrying a tablet display.
‘Do you mind me asking where exactly we’re going?’ the Professor asked curiously.
‘I think it will be easier to just take you there,’ Nero said, gesturing towards the door.
Nero led the older man along a series of corridors that took them away from the main areas of the school and past the storage areas containing operational equipment and archive materials. After a few minutes they arrived at a small steel door at the end of a long corridor and Nero stopped as a bright white light flashed above the door frame.
‘Welcome, Doctor Nero. Access granted,’ a mechanical voice said as the heavy door slid up into the ceiling. The Professor could hardly suppress his curiosity as Nero gestured for him to go through the door. He had no idea that this area of H.I.V.E. contained anything of significance, certainly not something that would require security like this. The Professor found himself in a white corridor leading to another door. Nero walked past and again there was a bright flash as his identity was confirmed before the second set of doors rumbled apart.
‘What’s this all about, Max?’ the Professor asked as the doors opened.
‘You said you needed an expert on AI systems code,’ Nero said, gesturing for the Professor to enter the room with him. ‘Well, I think I may know just such a person.’
The Professor walked into the room beyond. It was comfortably furnished, with a bed and a pair of armchairs, and several well-stocked bookcases lined the walls. Sitting at a desk on the far side of the room was a man writing in a notebook. As Nero and the Professor entered the room and the doors rumbled shut behind them the man at the desk laid down his pen, slowly stood up and turned to face them.
The Professor gasped involuntarily.
‘Professor Pike, it is good to see you again. I do not get many visitors,’ Cypher said with a slight smile.
.
Chapter Six
‘I saw you die,’ Professor Pike said, sounding amazed. ‘We all did.’
‘A necessary deception,’ Nero said with a slight frown. ‘Wu Zhang suffered serious injuries during his abortive attempt to take over the school, but they were not fatal. It suited my purposes at the time however to allow everyone to believe that he had been killed. Number One could not be allowed to know that he had survived. Wu Zhang was the first person to alert me to the insanity that our former leader was planning, and while I could never forgive him for his methods or for the attack on the school, I came to realise that without him we might not have discovered what Number One was attempting to do until it was too late.’
‘And yet still you will not release me,’ Cypher said, ‘or even allow me to see my son.’
‘Wing is better off without you, and so is the outside world,’ Nero said coldly. ‘You may have chosen to forget
how many people died needlessly during your attack on H.I.V.E., but I have not.’
‘Who would think that a leader of global villainy could be so self-righteous?’ Cypher said with a sneer. ‘There are times when I wonder if you’re really cut out for this kind of thing, Max.’
‘My friends call me Max,’ Nero said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘You can call me Doctor Nero.’
‘So,’ Cypher said with a slight smile, ‘to what do I owe the rather dubious pleasure of this visit?’
‘Unfortunately, we need your help,’ Nero said as calmly as he could. Even after all this time, Cypher still had the ability to get under his skin.
‘Explain to me why on earth I should help you,’ Cypher said calmly, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
‘Because it could be your first small step on the path to redemption,’ Nero replied, trying to keep his temper in check.
‘You’ll have to do better than that,’ Cypher said with a dismissive snort of laughter.
‘Then perhaps because you might be one of the only people in the world who can tell us exactly what this is,’ Professor Pike said, tapping the tablet display he was carrying.
‘Very clever, Professor,’ Cypher said with an amused smile. ‘An appeal to my intellectual curiosity. I do so lack stimulation here.’ He gestured at the bookshelves that surrounded them. ‘I have no idea how many times I have read each one of these books.’
‘This is a challenge that I believe you will relish,’ the Professor said, knowing that the lure of such a puzzle would be nearly irresistible for someone like Cypher.
‘Very well, you have piqued my interest,’ he said with no small measure of smug satisfaction in his voice. ‘Tell me more.’
The Professor quickly described the disruption of H.I.V.E.’s systems and their recent discovery of the rogue code. Cypher tried to feign uninterest at first, but as the Professor went on Nero could see that he was becoming intrigued.