by Jason LaPier
Runstom watched him, then turned to Leesen. “I think you struck a nerve.”
“He knows I don’t approve of your presence.”
Runstom thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “We’re the over-engineered pen to your problems.”
“Peter’s smarter than I thought. I didn’t think he’d put that together.”
“Well, this is just a trial, Doctor. If there’s not a reason for us to be here …” Runstom trailed off, unsure of how to finish.
“We already have local security. We’re not completely helpless.” She glanced at Troyo who was still filling up a tray, then leaned in to Runstom. “Why did you think something was up with Captain Oliver?”
“Uh.” Runstom fidgeted with his hands, wishing for the security of the notebook he’d just tucked away. “Well, she had all four lieutenants with her. And they weren’t wearing dress uniforms, they were wearing combat fatigues.”
“All four?”
“Four of four. Which means whatever they were about to go do, they’re taking the whole unit with them. Or close to it.”
She leaned back. “That’s either quality deduction or mild paranoia. Reminds me of my third husband.”
“Was he a detective?” Runstom hoped aloud.
“No,” she said. “He was paranoid.”
* * *
Dava introduced herself not with a blade, but with a slap-stick that she had relieved from an insistent security guard while poking around the underground quarters of Barnard-4. She had been saving the flimsy weapon for an occasion when she needed to let her targets keep a heartbeat.
For twenty minutes, she’d forced the others wait with her in the shadows a few dozen meters away from the perimeter of the building so she could track the movements of the guards. As it turned out, the two stout Sirius-5 souls at the front gate did little moving other than yawning and scratching.
She didn’t want to give them a chance to alert anyone else, so she’d decided to slink along the low fence and then show herself when she was close enough to smell their bad breath.
The guards flinched in synchronicity. “Whoa there,” one of them said. “Where’d you come from, ma’am?”
She watched their eyes, moving slowly. They stood rigid and watched her, unable to work out her unbidden presence.
“This uh – this is a restricted area,” the other one said. When her silence extended, he looked at his partner and whispered, “She looks like she’s all painted up.”
“Dude,” the first one spat back in a hush. “She’s not painted, she’s … like Mrs. Harrison.” He turned to face her and raised his voice. “Do you have any ID, ma’am?” He put a hand on his hip so that he could surreptitiously flick the strap of his holster open.
She held out her right hand and their eyes went to it. The weapon extended from a palm-sized rod into a meter-long stick with a twitch of her wrist. They wore helmets, but the coverage was poor. With a flick, she slapped the first one across the temple with a sharp diagonal stroke. The contact flashed blue as the burning-plastic smell of electricity bloomed forth and the guard’s legs twisted, then buckled.
The other had his pistol out already. “You’re the fast one.” She twirled the stick around and brought it close to her body.
“Lady, drop that fuckin’ weapon.” He put on a stern voice and leveled his gun at her. “Drop it or I’m gonna drop you.”
“I’d advise you of the same,” she said, meeting his eyes. “But it won’t be as fun if you give up that easily.”
“Hey, you done yet?”
The voice from Dava’s right caused her to flinch, but she held her sight on the guard. His head whipped toward the sound and his gun shook as if it didn’t know which way to point.
“I really gotta take a piss, Dava. Did you kill those guys or what?”
The guard’s eyes widened and his gun made its decision to point at the new target. She sighed, but she understood. Based on appearances, Eyeball always took the Most Threatening title.
She spun the slap-stick and caught the guard on the underside of his outstretched forearm. The insulation of his uniform protected him from the zap, but the whip was nasty enough for him to lose his grip on the pistol. She reversed the spin to catch him on the top of the arm, sending the gun clattering to the ground.
He clutched his arm and took a few steps back, eyes darting from Dava to Johnny. She stalked closer as he inched toward the wall where there was no doubt an alarm. Without taking her eyes off him, she slowly bent down to retrieve the gun with her left hand, keeping her stick-wielding arm outstretched.
“Is this a stun gun?” she asked.
“Uh …”
“Answer me.”
“Y-yeah. It’s a stunnerrrRRAAAHH!”
“Man, I hate those things,” Eyeball said as he stepped to Dava’s side and they watched the man twitch violently before coming to a clenched fetal position.
“You were supposed to hang back until I gave the signal.”
“I know, but I told you – I really gotta take a piss.”
“Johnny—”
“Hey, wait, how come you didn’t kill those guys?”
She sighed and looked around. The others must have had enough sense to wait, so she turned her head back to the darkness and blew out a low whistle.
She stepped up to the first guard and bent down to take a closer look. One side of his face was marked black and his eyes were squeezed tight, but he was breathing shallow, spasming breaths. She rolled him over and lifted his jacket from behind to reveal the monitor strapped to the small of his back. It was a black rectangle smaller than a hand and there were a couple of tiny lights, all blinking green, as well as a little LCD panel that read, STATUS: OK.
“We don’t kill anyone until we have to,” she said, looking up at Eyeball. The others were approaching, so she stood up to address all of them. “This is what I was talking about. See the monitor on his back? His heart stops or his breathing stops, and this damn thing will have the whole moon on alert.”
Johnny shifted his massive laser rifle from one shoulder to another. “Whole moon’s gonna be on alert anyway.”
“Exactly,” Dava said. “Which is why we need to get this place shut down, quickly, without hiccups.”
She looked at Barndoor, Thompson, and Freezer. “Tommy, you take this stunner.” She kicked at the guard at her feet. “Barney, you get the one off this guy. Frank – you keep that blaster in your pants.”
“Yeah-yeah, of course.” She watched him look over each shoulder several times, unable to find a place to put his hands, kneading them nervously across his stomach.
“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go. We don’t know how many more are inside, so nice and slow.”
“Wait,” Freezer said suddenly. Just inside the gate there was a side door that he had his eyes on. “Is that the guardhouse?”
They all looked at it and the brazen red lettering that proclaimed NO ENTRY. Dava could feel the energy level tick upward as her companions itched to cross a portal they were told was off limits.
Johnny took a step forward and wrapped his meaty hand around the door handle and gave it a good yank, but it didn’t budge. He yanked again, then took a step back and pulled his gun off his shoulder.
“Hold on, hold on,” Freezer said, jogging up to the big man and putting a hand on his arm. In the other hand, he dangled a keycard on a chain. “Got it from that one. You’re going to have to pick him up. His thumb needs to be on this side of the card when it goes into the lock.”
Eyeball frowned, winked, and grunted at Barndoor, who took it as an order to help him hoist up the limp guard and drag him toward the door.
“Shit, these Sirius-5 motherfuckers are dense,” Barndoor said, trying desperately to keep his half of the unconscious man moving at the speed of Johnny’s half. “Can’t imagine trying to move a body planetside if they’re this heavy on a moon.”
“Good thing you didn’t kill him,” Freezer said as they got the
man’s hand close enough for him to pin the thumb to the keycard. He slid it into the slot and they heard a click. “Wouldn’t work otherwise.”
“Stunners,” Dava said, directing Thompson and Barndoor to cover the door as Eyeball yanked it open, a lot less carefully than she would have preferred.
The small room was empty except for a couple of desks and a cabinet. She flicked her slap-stick open, stepped inside, and checked the corners. She retracted the stick and Freezer came in behind her.
There were screens and indicators set into the surface of the desks, but they weren’t active. She turned her interest to the cabinet, which was tall and looked sturdy, like the kind of cabinet that weapons were stored in.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Freezer said. “That thing will definitely set alarms off. I can smell the hot wires running through it. Probably only opens at shift change.”
“Right,” Dava said. Maybe bringing the kid along was worth the extra babysitting effort. “Well, anything else? Can you get these monitors on?”
“No. But.” He slid open a few drawers until he found a handypad of some kind. He toyed with it for a moment, mumbling to himself. “Ah, yes. Yes! Still logged in.”
She leaned over his shoulder to see the screen winking with activity. He tapped around for a moment and then a map came up. “Is that this building?” she asked.
“Sure is. And check it out – see those red dots?”
She looked at the small blips that wavered in various parts of the map, some inside hallways, others bobbing around in rooms. There were about ten altogether. “What are those? Wait – are those – you’re kidding me.”
“Yep. That’s our security.”
Dava grinned. All mapped out. This was too easy. “What about other personnel?”
Freezer tapped around the screen. “Nope. This is just tracking those vita-stat monitors. Including those two,” he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
She took the pad from him. He was useful, she had to admit, even if knowing where all the guards were took the fun out of infiltrating a building. Given that her stealth was hampered by the team that had been forced on her, she would take any advantage she could get.
CHAPTER 7
The map made it trivial for Dava to weave her way to the main control center of the building, her team following close behind. They didn’t have to deal with a single guard, which was both good and bad: it maximized their chances of getting Freezer where he needed to be in order to disable the power relay, but it also meant they would have to face the lot of them when the alarms inevitably went off and it was time to make an exit. But this mission was all about timing, and as much as she would enjoy it if Rando Jansen’s plan failed, she was in it for the duration and was going to do her job the best that she could. And that meant giving the other team the time they needed to get to the observatory in force.
She looked at the map. “No security inside,” she whispered. “But there will be a couple of operators.”
“We’ll take care of them,” Thompson said, reaching back for her submachinegun.
Dava put out a hand. “Too noisy. If the alarms go off, then you bring out the big guns – we’ll want them to think there’s an army in here. Until then, we’re nothing but shadows.”
“Yeah,” Freezer said, coming close to the door. He wiped sweat from his brow, then wiped his hands on his pants. That big, stupid pistol jutting from his waistband. “Besides, these guys are just operators. You don’t need to hurt them.”
“Well,” Barndoor said, shrugging. “We probably are going to need to hurt them.”
“Whatever, but you don’t need to kill them,” Freezer said, his eyes almost pleading. Dava saw his finger absently tapping the butt of his handgun.
Thompson sighed. “Soft spot for the geeks, huh? Fine, fine. They can live.”
They nodded to each other and then all turned to Eyeball, who held the rear. He seemed oddly calm. Dava wondered if he was dreaming of whiskey.
“Frank wants them to live, then they live,” he grunted with a wink.
“Thompson, if I give the signal, get their attention.” Dava flicked the stun-stick and put a hand on the door.
She went in first, making her way across the back of the room quickly and quietly. It was dark except for a myriad of tall screens, about a dozen in all, across one side of the broad room. Two women sat at consoles in the center, half-heartedly tapping at keys and flipping between views of the system while engaged in conversation.
“So how much longer you got?” one said. She was a Sirius-fiver with straight blond hair, combed back and cut off just below her ears.
“Oh I still have eighteen months,” the other said. “Gonna take forever.” She was also a Sirius-fiver, slightly heavier with hair that must have been dyed black and curled. Dava could smell the goop that held it in place as she crept through the shadows along the back of the room.
The blond sighed. “I just started. Signed up for a four-year.”
“I’d tell you it goes quick, but I’d be lying.”
“Hey, what does this mean?”
The two of them bent forward to inspect a monitor up close. Dava slunk forward, coming up behind them. She glanced at the door. Thompson and Barndoor slid into the room, splitting up to hug the wall on either side of the doorway. They moved into position and Dava took a steady, deep breath, then let it out. She stuck a finger upward, and Thompson whistled. The heads of the operators snapped to the sound.
“Hey,” the senior operator said. “Who the hell are you? Do you have a paaAAAA!”
She practically flipped out of her ergonomic chair as Dava slipped the slap-stick up under one of her arms. The blond spun around to watch her co-worker spasm to the floor, then followed the long weapon to Dava’s hand.
She looked Dava in the eyes and her hands shot up. “I give up!”
Dava sighed. “Fine. Thompson, get over here and tie her up. Make sure to gag her. Johnny, you stay at the door. Barndoor, check the other exits. And Frank – are we happy?”
Freezer was already perusing the monitors and controls. “Yeah. We’re definitely happy.” He kept looking over his shoulder, flinching at every unheard sound.
“Then get to work.”
“Who the hell are you people?”
There was a door in the back of the room that hadn’t been on Dava’s map; probably a restroom. A heavyset figure stood silhouetted against the yellow light that winked out as the door swung closed, revealing a man in the same uniform as the other operators.
He was practically on top of Barndoor, who reached back for his scattergun.
“No!” Freezer shouted. “Get down, man!”
The big, stupid pistol came out. The ceiling above the new operator exploded with fire. He threw himself to the floor, covering his head.
Then the whole room turned red.
The ceiling rained white, like frenzied snow. As the tiny blobs of anti-inflamant touched anything with heat, they expanded and coated. Within seconds, they were all sticky with the stuff.
Klaxons bellowed, mixed with a vocal recording that repeated, “Warning: fire in the building. Please evacuate.” The blond began to scream and cry and rock back and forth, half-tied to her chair. Freezer and Thompson dove for cover under the console. Barndoor flailed his long hair wildly, trying to keep it from being glued to his face by the goop.
Johnny Eyeball stood silently at the door. His whole head was white, his shoulders were white, his arms were white, shading red with each flash of the alarm lights.
He winked his angriest wink.
Then roared. A pulse rifle appeared in his hands and began chewing up the corridor. The sound faded to a distant high-pitched snapping as he disappeared down the hallway.
Dava hit the floor under the console next to Thompson and Freezer. “Frank, can you shut that shit off?”
“Yeah, maybe.” He was shaking, the pistol gripped tightly in both hands.
She covered his hands gently with he
rs. “Okay, Frank. Take a breath. We have a job to do, and now we have to think fast. I hear you’re good at that. Is that right?”
“Wh-what?”
She tugged lightly on the gun and he released it. “You’re good at thinking fast.”
“Y-yeah.” He swallowed and looked at her. “Yeah.”
The raining goop sputtered out. “Did it stop?” Thompson said. “Why did it stop?”
“Room temperature,” Freezer said. With the gun out of his hands, he loosened noticeably and his words began to speed up to their normal run-on pace. “It must have a shut-off if the room temperature is below a certain value. That crap is expensive, they wouldn’t want to waste it.”
“Okay, good,” Dava said. She stood up and looked around. It might have looked like fresh snowfall if everything wasn’t glistening and the warning lights weren’t making everything glow crimson. The cold floor was the only part of the room not covered in the stuff. Barndoor shambled around like the bloody ghost of a snowman. The blond operator sat whimpering in her chair next to her still-unconscious companion. The third who’d come from the restroom was nowhere to be seen.
Any moment, guards would be headed to the control center to see what caused the alarm. Eyeball would definitely slow them down, but he might need backup. Dava gestured for Thompson and Freezer to come out and yelled over the alarms, “Thompson, you and Barney go find Johnny and keep the heat away from us. Frank: can you still operate any of this stuff?”
Freezer came out and looked at the whitewashed console. He walked to the middle section and began feeling around, picking at it with his fingernails. “Yeah, here we go,” he said, pulling a stretch of the stuff away from a control panel. “It’s already solidified. It’ll peel off like plastic. You wanna give me a hand? We just need this section here.”
Together they worked quickly to clean away the flame retardant and expose a handful of controls and a couple of screens. Freezer gave the console some experimental tapping and images and read-outs began to flicker. To Dava, it looked like a jumble of blueprints, gauges, and statistics.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Freezer whispered as he navigated the system. “Okay. We ready?”