Killswitch: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1)

by Joel Shepherd

  "She had an inside source at the State Department," said Ari, "it's long been suspected they had more access to Canas security codes than they ought." The cruiser's suspension did not enjoy the cobbles-aircars were heavy, and not designed primarily for ground transportation anyway. Ari drove on manual between narrow walls, pulling aside once as an oncoming vehicle edged over to let them past. Picturesque creepers overgrew stone walls in the yellow wash of a streetlight. Then a little shop and a barrestaurant that Sandy recalled having enjoyed a nice meal and flamenco music at several weeks ago ... unexpectedly, she found herself missing her house, and her previous relatively peaceful, orderly evenings as a Canas resident. Then Ari followed a navcomp direction, up an even narrower street overhung by a ceiling of tree branches and bending all the way.

  "Oh, this is fucking lovely," Ari muttered, leaning forward as he drove to peer ahead and upward in trepidation. "Blind corners, no other escape routes ... gee I love this neighbourhood, doesn't it just make you feel so secure?" Ari, Sandy knew, had a somewhat different perspective on Canas's picture-postcard charms than her.

  "You just don't like any security you haven't organised yourself," she reprimanded him.

  "I'd feel safer letting the Beetle shoot an apple off my head." "The Beetle" was CSA Assistant Director N'Darie, whom Ari did not get along with at all.

  "It's so pretty, though."

  "So's lightning." As if on cue, the sky above lit in a racing blue flash beyond the treetops. Ari bit back a curse in what Sandy reckoned would have been Hebrew, if he'd let it come out properly. Ari professed to being neither religious nor superstitious. Sandy repressed a smile.

  Around a bend on the left, broad gates opened upon the cruiser's approach. Ari paused them at another checkpoint, where a pair of S-2 security checked IDs (and gazed curiously at Sandy, and her new brunette look) before waving them past. The drive was long through lush gardens, and ended in a circle about a central fountain, with a wide apron to allow large VIP vehicles to park and unload multiple passengers and security.

  Ari parked the cruiser short of the apron, and they got out. Boots crunching on the driveway gravel, Sandy slowly scanned about as they walked, while Ari's gaze remained distant, focused on his network uplinks. The Secretary of State's private residence was of course as much government facility as house-a grand mansion of stone and latticed windows, enveloped within a veritable jungle of lush, wet greenery. Sandy remained unsure about the foliage-the theory was that tight, enclosed spaces reduced the greater threat of long-range attack with high-powered weapons, and increased the risk to the theoretical attacker by forcing them to get close, right in where security, and lethal defences, were tightest. Against most attackers, Sandy reckoned the theory was sound. But there were some types of soldiers in the world, she knew from personal experience, who did their best work up tight and close. Flitting from shadow to shadow.

  "I think maybe we need a jungle warfare specialist," Ari muttered at her side as they left the crunching gravel and strode up the paved path to an engraved wooden door.

  The S-2 security chief-a squat, sturdy man named Sundaram, met them in the stone-paved hall. He looked nervous past his tough exterior, eyes darting with barely concealed anxiety. "What can you tell me?" he said with hushed earnestness, looking hard from Sandy to Ari. "I've tried to keep it quiet ... I've isolated Secretary Grey in his central office, it's the most defensible room in the building, we've cut down unnecessary movement and limited staff access. The perimeter is one hundred per cent tight and the yard-grid is all fully activated. I don't see how she could get through that way."

  Sandy didn't see a way either, but she didn't say so. She didn't want anyone to get relaxed in any direction.

  "My bet is," said Ari, "if she's here, she's already breached the perimeter ... she's got access codes and God-knows what else we don't know about. Can you track your staff? Do you know the whereabouts and identity of every person in the building and surrounds?"

  Sundaram nodded shortly. "Yes, and I've had everyone doublechecked visually, no false IDs. I've got people quietly sweeping storage spaces and rechecking delivery manifests. It's possible she got in a while ago and is just lying quietly somewhere ..."

  "Wait, wait, wait," said Sandy, holding up a hand. From the look in Sundaram's eyes, and the edgy looks on the faces of several of the S2s behind him, she thought she could see where this was going ... and it wasn't anywhere healthy. "Look, I think you've done a great job. Seriously. I know S-2 runs a tight ship, and with the measures you've put in place so far, I think you've got it all covered. We need to remain alert and ready, but let's not get carried away here. She's a GI. She's not a mythical spirit, she doesn't have supernatural powers, she's just a regular, run-of-the-mill GI like me. Okay?"

  Sundaram nodded, not looking particularly happier at that decla ration. Doubtless he knew only too well that there was nothing regular nor run-of-the-mill about CDF Commander Kresnov. But he appeared then, nonetheless, to surreptitiously take a longer, deeper breath. From the high skylight above the stonework hall, came the heavy, pattering sound of raindrops. "Maybe," Sundaram resumed, "if there's no immediate threat after all, we should just call in the heavy reinforcements."

  With a questioning look at Sandy in particular. Doubtless he had a couple of heavily armoured flyers in mind, with a full complement of troops to match.

  "No," said Sandy, with a slight but firm shake of the head. "We can't be sure yet. Let's leave it for a while longer, then reassess when we know more."

  "Sure." Sundaram took another, longer breath. "Keep it flexible, we can do that. You two have the run of the place, just stay uplinked to the network so we don't mistake you for infiltrators ... I know, Commander, it's not safe for you to be uplinked right now? That's okay ... just stay close to Mr. Ruben, if you please?"

  "I'll do that," Sandy assured him. Sundaram nodded again, gratefully, then strode off, taking one of his juniors in tow. Sandy and Ari walked on, the raindrops upon the skylight ceiling overhead growing to a thunderous din, punctuated now by a booming grumble of thunder.

  "Very diplomatic," Ari complimented her as they entered the broad space at the hall's end. Quiet, as the door to the hall shut behind. A bar-kitchen bench to the right, then a step down to broad windows leading onto a balcony that overlooked a courtyard surrounded by the lush gardens. Stepping up again to the right, where a dining room table overlooked those gardens from a higher vantage. "Great, more fucking windows."

  Ari drew the pistol from his shoulder holster, keeping close to the bar as he peered out at the garden foliage, rapidly becoming drenched in the downpour.

  "It's okay," Sandy assured him, "I count three visible security, and more sensors than a gnat could fly through without having its testicles counted."

  "The, um, rain won't affect that?" Waving a hand in that general direction.

  "Not unless Tanushan technology is shoddy crap, which I know it's not.,, A staff woman in white shirt and dark pants hurried from a door with a tray of empty glasses and small plates. Paused in surprise to see Sandy and Ari with weapons, and then did a double-take to recognise Sandy, despite the dark hair. Flashed her a nervous smile, hurrying quickly to the bar to begin unloading cups and plates. Sandy beckoned Ari onward, down to the sunken lounge, then up three steps to the raised dining room. Ari followed, eyes continuing to dart anxiously toward the windows.

  "Fuck," Ari muttered quietly when close at her side, "did you see how jumpy Sundaram was?"

  "He's okay," Sandy replied, just as quietly, as her gaze continued to sweep the dark, rainy gardens. "I was serious, I think he's doing fine ... and he'd be stupid not to be nervous. He's sure a hell of a lot more cooperative than some other security types I could mention. I'm not going to start busting his balls now."

  "Sandy," Ari said warningly, "what are you planning?"

  "I'm not planning anything," she said mildly.

  "Oh sure, right ... I know that look, Sandy. You're going to set a trap for he
r, aren't you?" Sandy made no comment. "Sandy, S-2 is positioned and trained to protect the Secretary of State, they're not a combat unit ..."

  "We might not get another chance," Sandy said simply.

  "Look ..." Ari raised both hands, expressively, "... I understand this is personal between you two, I understand you don't like her, that you think she's an ... an affront to all civilised GI-kind ..."

  "That's bullshit," Sandy said shortly.

  "Is it? Is it really? Shit, Sandy, look, don't insult my intelligence and don't insult your own. You're always accusing me of ideological leanings, why don't you look in the mirror one day?"

  "I'm with the Callayan Defence Force, Am" Sandy's gaze never left the windows, the snub-nosed assault rifle effortlessly poised in her good hand with clear field of fire over the dining room table. "I'm defending Callay."

  "I'm not a GI, Sandy." Pointing earnestly to his chest, with the beginnings of genuine temper. "These people aren't. If we can scare her off without a confrontation, we should do it-we try and execute one of your Dark Star traps here, we're liable to get good people killed!"

  "Ari, the longer we let this bitch wander Tanusha on her own, the higher the final death toll will be. This one kills people by the day, d'you understand that? We need to cut her operating time short, and that means now."

  "Yeah?" For one of the few times Sandy could remember, Ari looked genuinely, seriously pissed at her. "Well ... well fuck it, I disagree!"

  Sandy fixed him with a cool glance. "It's a combat scenario. I rank you." Ari took a deep breath through his nose, looking like he'd just smelled something extremely unpleasant. "Now get me a sweep of the network and main floor keypoints, I'm going to check the perimeter and get a few things worked out with our S-2 friends. Can you do that?"

  He didn't reply immediately. Sandy merely waited, counting the seconds. "Yeah," Ari said finally, his tone hard. Just two seconds before the limit she'd set as her deadline. "I can do that."

  "Good." She made off quickly down the three steps, headed for the door to the outside balcony. Ari stood in her wake and fumed.

  CHAPTER

  n hour later, they were waiting in an upstairs bedroom. Sandy sat by the French doors that led onto an outside balcony overlooking the main rear courtyard and surrounding gardens. Ari sat on the bed, gazing at a wall with a familiar, distant expression that meant he was uplinked and monitoring the network. Rain fell steadily, a constant silvery mist in the fall of houselight across the courtyard. Lightning periodically lit the sky, illuminating the outlines of several neighbouring mansions amidst a profusion of trees. After a moment, Ari's gaze flicked to Sandy. Studied her profile, the rarely blinking, unerring gaze across the courtyard. Illuminated, now, by a racing flash of blue across the sky. For a long while, he said nothing.

  "When did you realise that it was all wrong?" he said finally.

  "What was all wrong?" Sandy's gaze never shifted from the courtyard.

  "The war. That you were fighting for the wrong side."

  "I don't know. It was a combination of many things. I slowly began to discover my own view of the universe, and my own sense of what I believed in. And it just gradually dawned on me that the League's position on many things was problematic. And after a while longer, that made my position problematic."

  "But there must have been one single moment," Ari insisted sombrely. His tone was more serious than usual. Sombrely, moodily thoughtful. "A time when it really hit you. A revelation."

  Sandy shook her head, faintly. Not liking this new mood of Ari's. She preferred his sprightly, if somewhat cynical enthusiasm. Found it comforting, when things looked bleak, or confusing. She was the one with reason for moody introspection. This reversal wasn't fair. "I don't think so," she replied, trying not to sound evasive.

  "My mother took me to a protest march once when I was little." Sandy refrained from giving him a curious glance. Ari didn't talk about his family often with her. "They had them here too, even in Tanusha ... you had to go searching, sure, but after Valdez Station was destroyed in the outer system encirclements, you had that, plus the reports of famine where the food supplies failed, that got even some Tanushans out on the streets. And I remember all the slogans and chanting, and wondering what it was all about. My mother said that if they didn't stop the war where it was, it might end up here."

  Ari shook his head, and shot her a curious, dark look. Thunder rumbled, and separate panes of glass within the French doors vibrated. "I still remember thinking how selfish that sounded," he said. "I mean ... I remember ..." and he repressed an exasperated smile, ". . . I remember telling her a few years later, when I'd grown up a few millimetres ... or shouting at her more likely . . . `you don't really care what happens to them, do you? Just so long as they don't die in your general vicinity.' She, um, didn't find the implication very amusing ... to say nothing of my sisters. God, my sisters.

  "D'you know I got a message from Darla-that's my eldest sister, the one that's five years older than me-just the other day, in fact. She said that if I ever became disillusioned with the CSA, given the enormous mess it'd helped dig the planet into, and ... and needed a place to stay, well, her home would always be open to me." He ran a hand through his untidy hair, exasperated. And, Sandy thought, troubled. "I guess it was her way of trying to make peace. She's an artist, you know, Darla."

  "You told me," Sandy affirmed.

  "Did an exhibition a few months back in one of the small, private places on the subversive circuit ... called it `the silent soul.' All the usual stupid shit about how technology and bureaucracy have killed everything that's worthwhile about humanity ... all these humanist types are like that. Filled with romantic adulation for things that never existed. They were at the big demonstration in Tihber two weeks ago, both my sisters ... you know, the big anti-CDF rally?"

  "They weren't the only ones," said Sandy. A gust of wind blew raindrops in a flurry against the glass. "The way the Indian humanist community here reveres Gandhi, I'm not surprised the pacifist marches get plenty of people out."

  "I never signed on to be a soldier, Sandy." Sandy risked him a quick, sideways glance. He looked more distant, and more troubled, than she could remember seeing him. "I mean, tape-teach taught me to fight, and it turns out I'm pretty good at it ... but this ... I mean, guns and everything ..." he gestured absently with the pistol in his right hand, "... it's not what I'm about. It never has been."

  "You didn't have such a problem two years ago," Sandy reminded him. And gazed back out the window.

  "Yeah, and I've seen a lot of corpses since then."

  There was a silence, as the last of a distant roll of thunder slowly faded away. Only the rain, falling steadily through the trees, and the omni-present hum of the city itself.

  "Do you want to go on the next protest march with your sisters?" Sandy asked pointedly.

  Ari's look was faintly incredulous. "No! You fucking crazy?"

  "Why not?"

  "Because the goddamn pacifists, they don't know what they're for! It's so fucking easy to be against something if you've got no clue about possible alternatives ... life's not like that! They've got no damn alternative-they know they don't like war, but they've got no clue how else to defend the things we've got if other people come and try and take them by force. `You know, well,"' and he took on a mock intellectual, protester's voice, "`I got this real problem with gravity, I don't think it's morally correct for people's feet to be permanently bound to the planetary surface . . .' so fucking what? Do they think the universe cares?"

  "Ari," Sandy said as patiently as she could, "what's your point?"

  "My point is that you don't become a killer overnight and not wonder if it's worth it." Shortly, his eyes dark with intensity. "Maybe you can. Maybe your brain already handles that because it's all you've ever known. I'm just a network punk and compulsive socialiser who one day decided he was actually going to be for something, you know? To actually do something rather than just watch other people do
it, then bitch about it with friends over coffee. That's all. I didn't think it'd ever come to ... to this."

  "I promise you something, Ari," Sandy told him, "if we do go up to take the stations back, you're staying here."

  Ari stared at her for a long moment. Then gave a faint frown, as if in consternation. "What, you don't want me along?"

  "For one thing," said Sandy, "you're not a soldier. But besides that, I just won't let you. It's enough that I'd have to tolerate Vanessa risking her neck. I'm not having you risk yours too."

  Ari blinked. A corner of his mouth twitched upward. "That's ... that's really sweet, Sandy. Thank you, I'm touched." Then he frowned, and gazed away at a wall, as something else occurred to him. "Only now my masculinity's been offended."

  Sandy smiled calmly, seeing him only from the corner of her peripheral vision. "Deal with it."

  An entire five blocks of Canas security network chose that moment to abruptly disappear ... Sandy had been receiving uplink feed by relay from Ari, whose eyes widened a fractional moment before hers did.

  "I don't fucking believe that ... !" Ari exclaimed, concentrating hard to try and refind the lost network ...

  "Get me com relay!" Sandy demanded. "Keep the channel open, I need to know what's going on!"

  A flood of harsh, panicked voices assaulted her right ear as Ari's feed came through, Sundaram's orders securing the perimeter and confirming crossfire zones along all the predesignated approach routes ... and Sandy could see, in a flash, any number of ways in which a GI of her own designation and capability could come through the shadows, limiting threats to a pair at a time and eliminating them faster than any merely human opposition could coordinate a response ...

  "No, you don't, you fucking bitch," she snarled, snapped open the French doors and went out into the rain, ignoring Ari's exclamation. She got a foot onto the rail and leaped, straight up to the apex of the sloping rooftop.