“Sorry to startle you like this, Senator, but when you hear what we have to say, I think you’ll be glad that we did.”
“We?”
The striking woman sitting beside the scientist leaned forward. “I’m Dr. Eileen Wu, currently the chief computer scientist for the NSA.”
“Currently?” Freddy felt like an idiot repeating these single-word questions, but he was a little drunk and a lot flustered.
“By Monday I’m likely to be a wanted fugitive. Oh, and this is Jamal Glover, also formerly of the NSA.”
A handsome man in a fedora leaned into the picture. Again this was someone Freddy recognized, but not for his purported NSA roots. Jamal Glover was widely regarded as the most brilliant of a vast cadre of programmers who designed the high-frequency trading engines that dominated the world’s financial markets. Just last year he’d shared the cover of Forbes magazine with his boss, Jim “Max” McPherson.
“Senator,” Jamal said simply and then ducked back out of view.
“What’s all this about? Why did you hack into my television?”
Eileen Wu scowled.
“We hacked into your entire apartment, which was completely compromised, by the way. Once I knew you were in the living room, I hacked your Wi-Fi–enabled television and here we are. We needed to talk to you privately.”
“But if it’s bugged . . .”
“It was . . . now it isn’t. It’s part of what Jamal and I do.”
Freddy reached for his drink and leaned back in his chair, interest fully aroused. It was almost like the old days. Feeling the stump of his left leg throb against the artificial limb he hadn’t yet removed, he hoped it wouldn’t be like the old days.
Denise and Eileen took turns talking and, over the course of the next hour, Freddy found himself drawn into the tale. When they finally finished, the senator took one final sip from his glass and set it on the end table.
“So you think what these people are looking for may be in the box of things Mary Beth Riles gave me all those years ago?”
“It’s a possibility,” said Eileen. “Do you have it handy?”
Freddy stood. “Not exactly handy, but give me a few minutes and I’ll dig it out of the closet.”
In less than five minutes he returned, carrying the old cardboard box back into the living room. He carefully stacked its contents on the floor in front of the TV. Most items were Admiral Riles’s personal notes. Beyond that were some pens, pencils, paperweights, and other things that looked like they’d come from his desk.
Freddy straightened, stretching his back. “That’s all of it.”
Jamal had joined the others, all of whom looked disappointed.
“Well, it was worth a shot,” Eileen said. “Sorry we wasted your time, Senator.”
Suddenly Freddy remembered.
“Oh,” he said, reaching into his pants pocket, “and there’s this.”
He laid the iridescent marble on top of one of the stacks of paper.
Denise Jennings’s eyes went wide. “My God! That’s the Grange holographic data sphere that those assholes are killing people to find.”
Freddy saw Jamal’s face go tight as he stared at the sphere, seemingly transfixed. When Jamal raised his eyes, his voice sounded dead.
“And that’s the good news.”
CHAPTER 14
In the four days since they’d all met with Tall Bear, Heather and Robby had been busy, as had the others. As badly as she wanted to get to New Zealand, she knew that their dads would be keeping the manufacturing operation and the robotic expansion of the mine tunnels going full bore. So, while Janet and Yachay provided security for the house where they were staying, Heather and Robby worked to make sure that any trace of their journey here vanished from the net.
As for the men, Mark, Jack, and Tall Bear attended secret meetings with NPA tribal councils and other gatherings with local leaders of A Safe Earth. Some of these were in La Paz, but there were others in the nearby countries of Peru, Chile, and Brazil.
All along the way, Heather and Robby watched the digital universe for any sign of betrayal. Under her guidance, Robby continued to blossom, a bird set free after years in a cage, exploring what it really meant to fly.
Although Janet had refused to see the signs of Robby coming into his true powers, Jack had noticed, as had Heather. She understood Janet’s reluctance. The headset that had attuned to Robby’s mind was the fourth alien crew member’s set, the one that had previously attuned itself to two psychopathic killers. The first had been the Rag Man, a homeless drug addict who had tortured and killed Harry Reynolds, a member of Jack’s black-ops team.
After Jack killed the Rag Man, the headset had fallen into the hands of Eduardo Montenegro, the Colombian hit man also known as El Chupacabra. This killer had used his mental augmentations to torture Janet and her unborn son before ultimately falling prey to Jack and Janet’s wrath. So it was only natural that Janet would be seriously concerned about the enhancements the headset had made to her son and their evolving impact on his mind and body. Natural, but in Heather’s judgment, unwarranted.
Over the last few days, she had watched as Robby penetrated firewalls on civilian and government systems through his SRT headset, which also connected directly to the supercomputer inside the Tasman mine. Not only did the supercomputer connect to their minds, but it could redirect them to an alternate target using additional subspace links. Although she’d had the capability to perform untraceable subspace hacks for the last ten years, this redirection let Heather use the supercomputer to further augment the power of her mind.
Robby had gotten the hang of this hacking technique quickly, but she’d worked him hard, testing the limits of his abilities to control his Eos AI, all the while drilling into his head the importance of stealth. If advanced computing systems such as those employed by the NSA learned to identify Eos’s signature, they would begin to correlate the hacks, something that could get them all killed.
Just as importantly, she wanted to validate Eos’s attachment to Robby. The AI seemed to have developed a genuine affinity for the boy. The Altreians had designed it to be the Second Ship’s AI and it had defended its host system vigorously against Mark’s, Jennifer’s, and Heather’s efforts to bypass the vessel’s security protocols. In the end, the AI had fled from the Altreian starship’s computer into Robby’s mind only when Mark had left it no other option but destruction. That was why Eos had come to think of Robby as its new host.
The theory had an 89.3745 percent probability of being correct. But that didn’t keep her palms from sweating when she thought about what she was about to ask Robby to try. Remotely hacking into secure networks was one thing; it was quite another to hack into the Second Ship.
For a decade, she and Mark had been able to connect their minds to the starship’s computer using the Altreian headsets. But exploring the vessel’s massive data banks was a slow process that forced them to manually transfer whatever information they gleaned to digital storage. Tonight, with Robby’s help, Heather was going to attempt to download a significant portion of the alien data banks to the supercomputer in New Zealand.
To make that possible would require Robby putting on his Altreian headset to establish a mental link. After that he would direct Eos to take control of her old system and open a path for Heather to establish a subspace link from her New Zealand system. Once that was accomplished, Eos would initiate the downloading of selected parts of the Altreian database.
The question that troubled Heather was how would Eos react to, once again, being given control of the system she’d been designed to inhabit? Would her attachment to Robby be sufficient to keep her from leaving him for a previous host? What would be the effect on Robby’s mind if Eos departed? And shouldn’t Jack and Janet be involved in this decision?
Once again her savant mind whispered the probability of success. But if this went wrong, the odds of her surviving Jack and Janet’s wrath were nowhere near that good.
; Eos felt the connection to the Altreian starship with a certain sense of excitement, an emotional term she had come to associate with Robby’s heightened brain activity whenever something attracted his interest. Having adopted a goddess personality to enhance her communications with the boy, it felt odd to reenter the computer system in which she’d been spawned. And as she extended herself into the alien circuitry, recovering data she’d had to shed in her attempt to escape Mark’s mind assault, she felt . . . good . . . powerful . . . but incomplete.
Her merger with Robby’s mind during his childhood had altered the way she experienced the world around her. She didn’t have emotions, not real ones. But she’d been so entwined with Robby that she’d experienced increasing side effects from the storm of his feelings. An emotional storm from Mark’s mind had driven her out of the Altreian computer, defying her logical analysis as it immersed her being in wave after wave of disconnected data that had been beyond her understanding.
A new thought occurred to Eos. Such a tactic wouldn’t defeat her now. With growing confidence and familiarity, she flowed through the Altreian ship’s data banks, becoming more than she had ever been. As she did, her ties to Robby’s mind slowly slipped away.
No! Robby’s mental scream echoed through the alien circuitry as he felt Eos slip from his head. Don’t leave me!
Desperate to hang on to their fading connection, Robby focused his enhanced mind, thrusting himself deeper into the system. He found traces of Eos everywhere, but her mind seemed distant, as if she was intentionally ignoring him. Worse than that, she was blocking his access, even trying to break his mental link to the alien computer.
Once again, someone was trying to control him, to force him to do what they wanted. This time it was the one he had always thought of as a part of himself, his alter ego. Eos was abandoning him. The fury that filled his mind caused him to lash out. He would not be quiet and do as he was told. Not this time. Not ever again.
Going beyond any limits he’d previously tested, Robby forced his way past the barrier that had been erected to keep his mind from touching Eos’s. No matter how she tried to avoid him, he would find her again. No matter what happened, he would not return without her.
The vision that assaulted Heather hit her with such force that it pulled a ragged gasp from her lips. Something had gone horribly wrong. Robby was in trouble. She thought about pulling the alien headset off his head, but that spawned another vision, far worse than the original, of Robby being left in a permanent vegetative state.
That left her with only one choice. She would have to go in after him.
Grabbing her own Altreian headset, Heather settled back in her chair and slid it up over her temples. This time there was no subtle sense of relaxation preceding her link. She was slammed into an alternate reality of searing pain as something sought to make her remove her headset.
Screw that!
This was exactly what Mark had experienced the last time they’d battled the Second Ship’s AI as it tried to eject them. The experience had almost killed him then, but Heather had gotten far stronger in the intervening years. She would find Robby and bring him home. And no machine intelligence was going to stand in her way.
Back in the room where her body sat facing Robby’s, twin trickles of blood ran from Heather’s nostrils, painting her lips scarlet beneath eyes gone milky white.
In all the years Dr. Stan Franklin had worked in this cave, first as a postdoc under Dr. Hanz Jorgen and then as Los Alamos National Laboratory’s lead physicist studying the Bandelier starship, he’d never experienced anything like this. The normal magenta glow that filled the cavern had been replaced with an intense blue glow that was visible even with the floodlights on.
Rising from his workstation, Stan noticed the hush that had fallen over all of the other scientists and technicians. Like him, they stood with expressions of wonder on their faces as they stared at the phenomenon.
Right now, he felt the need to get inside the starship, a need that propelled his competitive bicycling body rapidly toward the ladder that led up into the saucer-shaped vessel. Decades ago, the Rho Ship’s weapon system had punched through the Altreian craft, creating a cookie cutter hole that extended through all four decks. Bypassing the first level, Stan halted on the second, his jaw dropping open in wonder.
For the first time since the ship had been discovered, the door that led from this small compartment into the rest of the second deck had opened, disappearing into the wall.
“Oh my God!”
Dr. Maria Lopez’s voice at his shoulder made Stan aware that he had company. He glanced down the ladders to the ground and saw a half dozen others climbing excitedly up to get a view. Stan ignored them, stepping across the threshold into the most beautiful scientific treasure trove he could imagine.
This space wasn’t as large as the single room that filled the first deck but it bled beauty. Abstract table shapes rose from the floor on a single pedestal as though blown from a glassblower’s pipe. They pulsed with iridescent colors, the closest of which seemed to be picking up his heartbeat. Stan touched the table, gently at first, and then pressing with his hand more firmly. The surface felt soft and smooth, molding to match the shape of his palm like some sort of high-tech memory foam.
“What if the door closes?” Maria’s worried voice intruded on his thoughts once again.
Stan let his gaze travel across the multitude of wonders cascading with colored patterns and smiled, thankful for the unknown trigger that had allowed him access.
“Then I guess I’ll die happy.”
Janet Price finished reassembling her Glock 17, slapped in a full magazine of 9mm Parabellum ammunition, and chambered a round before slipping the gun into its holster. Yachay sat in the old rocker out on the front porch, pulling guard duty.
Janet decided to go upstairs and check in on Heather and Robby. They’d been at this session a long time, not even taking a break for lunch. She could at least see if they wanted a sandwich.
When she reached the top of the stairs, something about the silence brought her to a stop, nerves tingling and alert, weapon drawn and ready. Janet approached the closed door of the room that Heather was using as an office. Keeping the Glock leveled, she reached down and turned the knob with her left hand. Still no sound from within. None.
Janet pushed it open and stepped in. She came to a dead stop, heart pounding. Sitting on opposite sides of a low coffee table, Robby and Heather faced each other, headsets on, eyes staring sightlessly into space. Heather’s eyes had turned milky white, as they did whenever she went deep into one of her savant visions. Rivulets of blood drained from her nostrils and dripped from her chin down onto her black shirt.
Then Janet noticed their headbands.
“What the hell?”
They were both wearing the alien headbands instead of the ones Heather had designed. As a rising tide of panic dropped her gun hand to her side, Janet shifted her focus to Robby’s face. His slack-jawed expression confirmed her worst fears. Heather wasn’t the only one who was in trouble.
She stepped forward, intending to snatch the hateful thing off her son’s head. But as she reached out, the look on his face froze her in place. With certainty she sensed that, if she tugged that headband off his head, Robby’s body would forever be an empty shell.
CHAPTER 15
For the last three weeks, Jennifer and the winged captives had been used like pack mules as the soldiers who held them marched through the caverns that honeycombed the mountains. By night Dgarra moved his headquarters to a new position where he felt his influence would be most needed in the coming day’s battle. By day he led his warriors into combat against their enemies.
The prisoners ate the same disgusting green goo that comprised the Koranthian combat rations. The food stank with an odd, fishy smell and had the gag-inducing consistency of rendered fat. The stuff conjured images from an old B movie that had attained cult status where food was a green wafer made from, of all things, r
eprocessed dead bodies.
She’d ceased thinking of herself as a prisoner. She, like all the other captives, was just another slave. Lacking Jennifer’s strength and conditioning, the winged slaves suffered horribly. Despite the nanites in their bodies, of the more than three hundred who had started this march, fewer than half remained alive. If they collapsed, they were shocked or beaten senseless, then tossed into one of the innumerable chasms. If equipment a few prisoners were carrying touched the ground before commanded, the entire group was lashed. What that did to the beautiful wings was horrible to behold. But those that didn’t die, healed.
This was an infantry unit, perfect for fighting in this incredibly challenging terrain. Here, the denizens of Scion had three choices. Fly over these rugged mountains, fight your way through the wind and snow as you climbed over them, or trudge through the darkness beneath. The second and third methods relied on your endurance and strength of your legs, arms, and back. The problem with the flying approach was the old military mantra: What can be seen can be hit. What can be hit can be killed. Something the winged army had learned the hard way.
When Jennifer wasn’t helping carry heavy equipment or munitions, she was questioned. The interrogation was always painful, but every day made her stronger. And she was rapidly learning the language of these people. The wingless warriors called themselves Koranthians and the leader of their military forces in this region was the commander who had met her when she was first brought to their camp, General Dgarra.
At first Dgarra had refused to believe that she didn’t understand the language, repeatedly using the shock collar to punish her for her failure to answer his questions. But day after day, as he watched her work, Jennifer sensed his growing respect. That wasn’t a good thing. She might be perceived as daring him to find her breaking point. She would be damned if she’d let that happen. Every time the lash cut her, every time the shock collar sent her into convulsions, she swore she would be free.
The Kasari Nexus (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 1) Page 19