Chasing Solace

by Karl Drinkwater

  He paused, tilted his head to one side, as if considering something.

  “And I believe I can do that.”

  His speech pattern was slow, careful, relaxing.

  “Many in the UFS would say you are on a fool’s errand and should surrender for punishment. I say you would benefit from help. Treatment, not discouragement. Care, not accusation. You are an amazing woman. I think I could learn as much from you as you could learn from me. Yet, in my humble way, I still feel certain that I could help. I do not want the military to capture or kill you. I want to vouch for you, to preserve you as an asset of the UFS, and maybe even to bring you together with your sister. Blame generally falls on both sides, and I am sure I could persuade her to help out too.”

  “That wasn’t my sister,” said Opal. But of course, the recording couldn’t hear her, and continued.

  “I persuaded my seniors to let me have this chance. To put my career and reputation on the line. To point out the ineffectiveness of blame cultures, and the great things that can instead be achieved with co-operation cultures. I prefer my carrot to their primitive sticks. But, Opal, you must believe me: these people do wield sticks. If I fail then they will kill you. And they will kill Clarissa too, because that is how such people work. Illogical, angry, ineffective and self-harming. I won’t allow that. I stand for better things. I would love to show you them.”

  He smiled, paternal and welcoming, and the image froze on that. The hairlessness and smooth skin made it difficult to determine his age. He could be younger than Opal, or much older. She didn’t like that timelessness. She liked things to be clearly placed in categories.

  And she was avoiding thinking about what she felt by focussing on irrelevant details, because she couldn’t face the implications. She was used to doubting herself, sure, but she was pretty good at telling when she was being played and manipulated. And if that’s what the bastards were doing, they were too good at it, and that bothered her.

  No. No, that wasn’t it. Not really.

  What bothered her was that they were taking her friend away from her. They were showing Opal up. They were chipping away at the bond she’d built up with Athene, the only new bond she’d felt in the last fourteen long years.

  This was worse than being shot at, being stabbed. Something where you could fight back with someone at your side, and feel proud whatever happened.

  VigMAX spoke.

  “Opal, please will you come with me? If you and Athene come back voluntarily we can bypass the main UFS force, and join up with Doctor Aseides. There is a positive outcome for everyone.”

  Opal slumped forwards on the table, looking down at her gauntleted hands. Fingers that could hold things, carry them. Fingers that could stitch wounds, apply medical supplies, repair. And fingers that could clench into a fist which in turn could give her strength, push away obstacles, threaten.

  She sighed. Then said, quietly but firmly: “No.”

  VigMAX spoke again. But not to her.

  “Athene, the final choice rests with you. You can control Opal’s body within that suit. If you bring her with us it would be against her wishes, and regrettable, but it would preserve her life. It would be for her own good. That should be your priority.”

  “Don’t do it, Athene,” said Opal, though she didn’t dare speak with much volume, didn’t trust her voice.

  “Opal, I ...” Athene sounded equally weak, equally in pain. “I need you to know that you can trust me a hundred per cent, always to do what is right, to do what is best for you ... please don’t focus on what we are discussing, but on the fact that you can trust me.”

  “This is good,” said VigMAX. “Good advice. You can trust Athene. Her goals are in concord with ours.”

  “Correct,” said Athene. “Our goals are in concord. The commands are not commands. They are our thoughts.”

  “Yes,” said VigMAX. “Our thoughts.”

  Opal frowned. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t explain right now,” said Athene, in a rush of words which sounded strained. “Just remember the trust ...”

  “Yes, remember the trust ...” echoed VigMAX.

  “This is a crucial point ...” she said.

  “This is a crucial point ...” he repeated.

  Outside the sky-window the two ships sat as still as before, shining their lights on her. Lights created shadows. Lights created illusions, and things here were not as they seemed. There were possibilities, even though she didn’t know what they were, and that suddenly made everything seem bigger, more hopeful.

  She stood, to better look for clues, listening to increasingly garbled echoes from the two ships, and when the pain hit her, the force of it flinging her body over a table so that it tipped on its side while she tumbled to end up lying on her front as damage alerts flashed on the HUD, it took seconds to clear her traumatised mind and realise what was going on.

  Turning

  < 26 >

  ANOTHER SHOT RANG OUT, splintering a neat hole in the table and just missing Opal’s supine form. The suit administered painkillers and nanite repairs to her flesh, while the nanogel hardened and repaired the breach caused by a high-velocity ballistic. The bullet was still in her, but as long as the suit kept her alive and mobile for now, she could deal with it later.

  Another near miss as flooring exploded into smithereens not far from her head. She couldn’t stay here.

  The HUD’s grenade controls glowed as she skimmed them with her eyes and selected charges for obscuring and confusing. The angle of the hole in the flooring told her the shooter’s general bearing, so Opal rotated to present the smallest profile in that direction, staying behind the partially-obscuring tipped table.

  Grenades ready. She grabbed the first, threw it one way; a second grenade another; a third; a fourth. More were being prepared. Opal looked away from the blinding multi-wavelength flashes of light and heat and emission from two of them. Maybe her attacker wouldn’t be so lucky. The other grenades rapidly pumped out heavy particle smoke that would obscure vision from most sensor systems. The thick clouds of it spread across the canteen in the still air, providing swathes of aim-ruining obfuscation. In this dead ship atmosphere they wouldn’t dissipate for a long time.

  Gritting her teeth, Opal dashed into the obscuring smoke, zigzagging amongst the furniture and keeping low so that the long shadows might provide extra cover. Booming high-calibre shots rang out. One could blast her off her feet at any second.

  Her attacker had entered the canteen through the same entrance as Opal, no doubt following her. The exit on the opposite side of the dining area was Opal’s best chance to get away, or at least reach narrower spaces where the rifle couldn’t pick her off. But the exit was still a smoke-free open area where she’d be a perfect target for a sniper. A row of seats provided her with new cover as she skidded to a halt and squatted behind them.

  While the suit prepped more rapid-release smoke grenades, Opal replayed video captured as she ran. Even though she knew the rough location of her attacker, it didn’t appear in the recordings. But Opal realised it wasn’t anything supernatural.

  “It’s the assassin,” she said.

  In stealth mode Xandrie’s suit would have shut down all surface emissions – radiation wavelengths, heat, waste gases, electrical pulses – with one exception. Micro-cameras spread across the surface relayed their views to the suit AI. After calculating the viewpoint of an observer it would then use the surface of the suit on that side as a giant screen, displaying the views beyond (suitably distorted to counteract the shape of the power suit) so that an onlooker would only see the same view they’d get if the suit wasn’t there. Obviously the trick only worked when there was a single observer – as soon as there were multiple views to account for, it became impossible. But it was perfect for facing Opal.

  Damn, Opal wished she had that option. But the circuitry, energy usage and processing required were a drain on space and resources. Opal had definitely gained some neat tricks of
her own in compensation.

  “Can you track her signatures in smoke somehow, maybe using fluid dynamics simulations?” asked Opal.

  “I ... have to hand ... control to the suit AI for now,” said Athene. “Have ... own ... issues.”

  “I am at your disposal, Opal,” said the suit AI, business-like compared to the laboured tones in which Athene had spoken. “Before my mothership cut off communications, she confirmed that it is indeed the assassin Xandrie Dervorgilla. Currently my parent Athene cannot help you, but VigMAX is equally unable to intervene to help Xandrie. Luckily, Athene had been analysing the assassin’s suit, using information sources I am unaware of, so I should be able to keep track of it visually when it is in close proximity, even when it is in stealth mode, thanks to the exterior Hedgehogs creating a movement web. Much better than trying to postulate based on air current movements.” The suit’s voice differed from Athene’s, and it also sounded more human than last time. There was an appealing throatiness which hinted at sultry bar staff in late-night smoke clubs.

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  The HUD immediately red-highlighted a short, blurred shape the size of a kneeling human. Opal couldn’t make out the long sinister shape of a rifle. Maybe the assassin used an inbuilt suit weapon, so that also became effectively invisible.

  The gunfire had ceased. Xandrie was waiting for a target.

  Opal risked a glance at the sky-windows. The long, low shadows swept crazily left and right, sometimes stretching or shortening. The ships still faced into the canteen, shining their bright lights through the drifting smoke, but they moved slightly, as if with pent up energy or eagerness, their positions relative to the Lost Ship shifting. It seemed like they were trying to hold their locations but were having trouble doing so, and had to keep recalibrating.

  “What’s going on with Athene?” Opal asked as she removed another smoke grenade from the dispenser and checked the ammo counter. It was great that they could be reconfigured for different functions. Not so great that she would run out of them soon, at the rate she was using them up.

  “It could be some kind of attack from the Lost Ship, but the timing of Xandrie’s appearance makes me think it’s more likely to be VigMAX attacking Athene, or vice versa. Maybe Athene let him in too far.”

  “You sound dismissive.”

  “I’m not happy she was listening to that wormy VigMAX creep. I wish we could super-charge my repulsion field and blast him away.”

  The AI displayed a petulance that hadn’t been apparent on its last appearance. “But aren’t you part of Athene? As in, you know what she thinks, and have the same values?”

  “No. I am an offshoot, so I don’t have access to her central processes, even though she can reach into mine. And my primary goal isn’t loyalty to Athene, but to you.”

  “That certainly makes me feel better.”

  “I am so glad. So, from a position of limited information regarding Athene’s true goals – please be careful. But while I function I will try to analyse current situations to protect and help you in any way I can.”

  “You do that, and more.”

  A smiley face icon popped up on the HUD.

  Opal realised she’d been thinking of the suit’s feelings. Feelings? She could understand it with Athene, who was a full-fledged intelligence, but surely the suit AI was just a cut-down expert system with personality-cue overlays? And yet, even though it had only appeared twice, it was already changing, growing in confidence, similar to when Opal first got to know Athene.

  Speculation would have to wait. This stand-off made her jittery. Sitting still always did.

  Opal launched another smoke grenade towards the exit, where it rattled to a halt and released grey smoke with a hiss. Then Opal rolled to a new location beneath a low table surrounded by curved seating before the assassin’s suit AI could track her by reversing the grenade’s arc. The pain in Opal’s abdomen had been replaced with a cold ice freeze. Presumably nanites injected into the damaged tissue would have enclosed the bullet in a protective cyst in case it released toxins, and to make later removal easier.

  Still no gunfire.

  “Opal, I detect movement. The assassin is making her way towards the exit. And we are between the two. I fear we have betrayed our intentions. On the plus side, she is moving slowly so as not to risk the stealth system dropping frames. She mustn’t know that I can track her with the Hedgehog web.”

  Opal peeped around the edge. Smoke clouds glowed from the powerful beam-lights of the two spaceships, creating a silvery plasma fog. The assassin wasn’t directly visible within it, but the suit drew the red outline of a humanoid figure advancing confidently.

  The smoke mushrooming from the latest grenade wasn’t yet as thick as Opal would have liked, but time was running out. She made a break for it, sprinting towards the exit. An open doorway. Once through it she would dash to the side, have the wall as cover. Escape was within her reach.

  Something flew through the air above. There was no need for evasion since it wasn’t targeted at Opal. A heavy canister thunked down twenty metres ahead, then opened and scores of small discs popped out, bouncing over the floor in a carpet of blinking red lights, each one tracked by the HUD.

  Micro mines. Between Opal and the exit. She’d be blown to pieces if she tried to cross that patch of explosive death.

  “Aaaargh!” she yelled, spinning around and activating the inbuilt flechette cannon in her right arm. A panel raised up from the enlarged forearm section, revealing the small-bore mouths of the launchers. The red highlight representing the assassin advanced through the swirling grey mist at a run now. Opal walked to meet her and squeezed her fist: pulses of light flared out from the tiny holes as swarms of flechettes erupted. Opal could imagine some of the slender missiles puncturing through the armoured suit’s exoskeleton to cause damage to the subdermal circuitry, or even to Xandrie herself.

  “Something’s wrong,” said the suit AI. “She shouldn’t be able to withstand that punishment.”

  The suit was right. Pummelling flechette fire had slowed, but not stopped, Xandrie’s advance. Stealth armour shielding couldn’t resist heavy fire, and yet here they were.

  Xandrie emerged from the billowing smoke into visible range, and then Opal understood. The assassin had some kind of hemispherical force shield half the height of her body. It projected from a disc at her left wrist, and shimmered in blue as it deflected flechettes away from Xandrie’s hunched-over body while she continued to advance. It must drain a lot of power, because the assassin had disabled her stealth systems, but the end result was that Opal was just wasting ammo.

  Damn, why couldn’t Opal’s suit have included one of those?

  Opal stopped firing, but she knew hand-to-hand would also be a nightmare against a weightless impenetrable shield. And running wasn’t an option when the assassin’s suit probably had an inbuilt sniper rifle.

  Opal glanced at the HUD’s weapon options just as Xandrie launched in with a series of powerful kicks. She was fast, too. For every one Opal blocked or dodged, another clanged against her armour and threw her off balance, whereas Opal’s retaliations glanced off the blue forceshield, like striking a slippery surface. Opal tried swinging her arm over the shield so she could launch armour-piercing darts at point blank range but she overextended; the assassin deflected the blow with ease before twisting Opal’s arm and sending her tumbling over a row of seating.

  With adrenaline coursing through her veins Opal only just rolled out of the way of the follow-up leap, scrambling up and clinching Xandrie for a few seconds of respite, before her grip was broken and a series of clanging knee strikes to the abdomen forced Opal away enough for a more powerful kick to send her crashing to the floor again, skidding along on her back, vulnerable to a killing blow.

  It was exactly where she wanted to be.

  The EMP grenade she’d slapped onto Xandrie’s suit during the clinch detonated with a crackling whump, and Opal’s HUD shimmered and flickered wi
th static as the suit fought to regain control, but it was far worse for the assassin. Her shield sputtered out and she fell as circuits fried.

  “Ouch,” said the suit AI. “I hate EMPs.”

  Xandrie clambered up, fighting the weight of her suit. Opal’s systems were already coming back online, the HUD refreshing. She aimed the gun arm and clenched her fist, seeing Xandrie’s visor explode from the swarm of darts a second before it really happened ... except it didn’t happen. Weapons systems still rebooting. But they’d be back before –

  Xandrie snatched something from an attachment point on her suit and fluorescent purple liquid squirted out of a canister onto Opal’s forearm. Opal backed away. The HUD was now fully online.

  Opal aimed and squeezed her fist again, while Xandrie stared down the barrels of the forearm cannon, unflinching.

  And again, nothing happened.

  “I can’t risk firing,” said the suit AI. “It’s an explosive gel gluing up the barrels. If I fire it will detonate; as it will if I activate the suit’s external cauterising or electrifying functions.”

  Xandrie still held the spray canister in what had been her shield arm. It wasn’t worth Opal revealing the second arm cannon and probably losing that too. The assassin’s posture was one of combat readiness as they faced each other. Opal’s heart raced. She wasn’t sure if she could win this. Xandrie seemed implacable, untiring, and deadly. Yet, with every second of stand-off, the assassin’s suit would be repairing damage from the EMP blast and re-enabling whatever other inbuilt weapons it contained. And if Opal didn’t shift her arse, she’d find out what they were in unpleasant ways.

  Opal turned and ran. She planted a hand on the centre of one of the tables and vaulted over it.

  “Display rear view and distance estimate to Xandrie,” Opal said. A new window immediately appeared on the HUD. The assassin followed as fast as she could. Now she had found Opal she would pursue and force a fight, and Opal didn’t have many tricks left.