Terra…
Home…
All the things I’ve spent years here, under an airless desert, trying to forget. The arcologies, ring towns, gangs, and everything from my early life. The constant surveillance, Special Security, camps, random arrests, assassinations, and raids of my later life. I’m as trapped by Terra as Luna is; I can never truly get away.
My network comes alive as a very specific code comes in. I let it access my array, and Sharron appears once more. She’s back in my array, and her image is floating in my visor. At least, I think it’s Sharron, but if this program can fool my array, I don’t have any better way to deal with it. I’ll just have to trust the program’s OK and be ready for any sabotage or double cross. The same as any other day.
“Anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head. I review the small bits of data she’s gotten. Helpful, but not enough. Their security is too tight. Sharron couldn’t break in, and I couldn’t get any remotes in. I don’t have the months it would take to turn someone into an agent.
No point in waiting any longer. Tomorrow, I go in.
Singularity, I’m coming for you.
* * * * *
Part Nine: Singularity
Chapter 62
The tunnels are wide, brightly lit, and clean, and I mean clean. I mean really, really clean. You know that last bit of dust that always shows up on inspection? It’s not here. It makes sense, actually. When you live on a world covered in corrosive, abrasive, statically charged dust that can clog your lungs and destroy your machinery, you get neat-freaks or corpses.
So, airlocks and hatches are everywhere, with charged vents to absorb any dust, spores, and micro-sensors (unfortunately). So, my attempts to get a smart-dust bug onto someone going into Singularity have all failed.
The same level of deep, deep caution explains their computer networks. A single hacker, a single virus, or a major piece of bad code can kill quickly. Hard vacuum is right outside the door, after all. So, while Luna has excellent computers, you don’t find gigantic inter-linked networks. There are plenty of information and services available on the main networks, but nothing vital. Ever. You want to access that kind of computer, you have to go to it. It keeps crazy things like insane hackers, terrorists, and emergent AIs from running rampant throughout all of Luna.
Unfortunately, it has also kept me from getting a lot of information on Singularity. Sharron has done a great job locating a lot of basic information—offices, staff, locations, and all that. But for the real info, I’m going to have to go in.
So many people, Lunars, a few Terrans, coming and going casually, with no idea about the horrors in the tower ahead. I want to warn them away from it, from the danger inside, and about the threat coming from the State of Terra infiltrating Luna. It would be useless, of course; it would only blow my cover.
Outside the tunnel windows, I see it—Singularity Tower. The tall, triangular spear of crystal shines in the night, tapering as it rises for kilometers into the glory of the sunlight streaming in over the crater rim. Cables and support strands lead up to it, all aglow with shimmering, spectral color. It’s a shining work of art. A den of evil should look the part, not like this.
This is the only way. I have to go into the belly of the beast. I’m a Terran, so they will be able to access my identity file and then cross check it with their Special Security files of Terran citizens. If Sharron’s work is not flawless, I’m dead. Still, I have no choice. I need to get into the tower proper, then I can use my bag of tricks and the monster to get into the secured sections.
My weapons and gear are disassembled, hidden in with the other electrical devices I’ve picked up or assembled into them. The smart fiber in my new clothes has been programmed to display one of the holographic patterns that is popular these days. The pattern was modified by Sharron’s ghost to create an interference pattern to hide my gear from scanners. Hopefully, anyway.
So, as long as I don’t run into a real security checkpoint, I should be ok.
Around the bend, there is a commotion by the entrance to the tower. Armored security is all over some kind of disturbance, and the doors are locked.
The crowds pile up, and I come to a halt. They are searching people, amid cries of outrage. I look back the other way as the red emergency lights come on. The doors out of the tunnel seal slowly shut behind me.
Trapped.
* * * * *
Chapter 63
“Do not move, or we will fire!” the guards roar.
The tightly packed and fearful crowd in the tunnel does the predictable thing; it panics.
Bodies press up against me as the mob surges toward the sealed hatch. With my strength, it’s easy to keep from getting smothered or trampled. Others aren’t so lucky. A few quick shoves, and I help some of the people on the floor up.
Targeting lasers sweep across the crowd. Those lasers and scanners are probably hooked up to facial recognition systems in the guard’s visors. As soon as they see their target, they can fire. I don’t move. A gunfight in this packed corridor would turn it into a slaughterhouse and open the tube to vacuum. If they are going to take me, I’ll let them. I can always try something when I’m away from the crowds.
Unless, of course, they shoot me out of hand. I don’t have to pretend to be frightened as the targeting lasers sweep back and forth, searching. The monster stirs. No, not here, not now. It would be a disaster if that happened here. I force it back under control.
The beams continue to search, and I wait until they find their target.
“You!” the guards scream, weapons aimed at a short, startled Terran. The guy is about as harmless looking as they come, but the guards are deadly serious with their aim. The crowds melt away from the targeted man.
He’s blubbering in terror, sliding down the walls of the tube, his legs no longer able to hold him up. A sight I’ve seen too often back home. It’s news for the Lunars, though. They stare as he’s hit with stunners, clubbed to the ground, then bound with smart cord. They aren’t from Earth; they don’t know how to pretend nothing is happening. They don’t know how to look away from the everyday atrocity.
The masked guards drag his limp form into the tower and seal the hatch, leaving us in the tunnel. Now, the guards are gone. Convenient. Too convenient.
“Sharron, what’s the story?” I sub-vocalize.
She appears to float in my shades. “You needed a distraction.”
“Now, they are on alert, Sharron. This isn’t helping.”
“Look, Brandt.” She sighs. “This tower is like a city. They can’t keep it locked down with one security breech after another. There will be pressure to open the gates, and you should be able to get through the perimeter more easily. Also, I needed a fall guy for my attempts to break into their systems and your attempts to get smart dust inside. I left traces to incriminate him on their security computers. Now, they won’t be looking for whoever tried to break in, at least for a while.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit much? They’re probably going to kill him.” The Singularity Tower is sovereign. Lunar cops aren’t going to be able to save that guy from the interrogation rooms and execution that pass for justice on Terra.
“If it helps, I discovered this guy is guilty of embezzling from Singularity, so he’ll make a great distraction.”
Still, it’s a bad way to go. “Once they break that guy, and they will, they will be on high alert, looking for whoever actually breached their defenses. That puts my mission on a short timetable. I won’t get another chance after this.”
“Sure, they will figure it out eventually, but that still gives you time to get in there.” She smiles. “You always said you work best under pressure.”
I’m going to have to have to talk to her about this later. Endangering others. How come she is so good at infiltrating systems? This sounds so much like Sharron, I’m wondering if my computer is haunted or just has an AI. Neither one is supposed to be possible.
The ou
ter hatch opens. Cops, real ones from Luna, not Terran thugs-in-uniform, come in. They’re sorting things out. Lots of people are griping on phones. Lots of people have business inside or want to get away from Singularity. Sure enough, Sharron’s right, and they yield to pressure and open the hatches.
Some have changed their minds after what they saw and are leaving. I go in with a large crowd. I want to shout at them, “Go back! Didn’t you see what just happened? Get away while you can!” I don’t, though; I just let the crowds pull me in over the threshold and into Singularity.
* * * * *
Chapter 64
Getting into Singularity was difficult. Getting out will be almost impossible.
The crowds flow into a large screening hall. Everything is brightly lit with artificial sunlight, while crystalline chandeliers scatter rainbow hues upon walls of white and gold. Soft music is playing in the background. Floating holograms of Earth are everywhere—sun-drenched fields of flowers, misty forests, pristine beaches, and happy, smiling, welcoming people everywhere. Everything projects an aura of peace, tranquility, wealth, and abundance.
I want to scream, “It’s not like that! Turn back! Get out while you can!” at the Lunars. I finally got out. I turned to a life of crime, had an illegal operation to remove my nanotechnology implants, and got myself smuggled off of Earth. Even with my skills, it was mostly luck that saw me through. These fools will be going to Earth, without being forced. It’s easy to go down the gravity well; it’s not so easy to come back up.
I reach the security line in the hall. Faintly glowing, crystal pylons rise in a line. People go between the scanning pylons and have their personal effects searched by guards. If my identity isn’t solid, facial recognition programs will pick it up. The computers might be able to detect my devices, even broken down and disguised as they are. If I get pulled aside for a detailed search, my devices and disguise won’t hold up. I’ll get a biometric analysis and a cyber probe for sure.
Long lines pile up as they try to get everyone processed. About one in ten gets pulled aside for a more detailed search. If they are following proper procedure, there will be random searches too.
“Sharron,” I sub-vocalize, “can you do anything about the scanning systems?”
“Sorry, but no,” her voice replies. “The scanning systems won’t take any transmissions or orders from this side, and all of the interfaces are deeper in the Tower. There isn’t any way to subvert those systems without getting inside first.”
Of course not. These are real security procedures, meant to stop actual infiltration, not a holo-drama set. She will be able to receive information from the main systems and send basic signals to them, but she can only override them from a secure port. Still, it was worth a try.
I’m coming up soon. Will I be searched?
“How dare you?!” bellows a red-faced, chubby, little Terran. He throws off the arms of the security guards and starts pitching a fit. My file indicates he’s one of the big shots in Singularity. The guards, following procedure, had the bad luck of pulling this guy for a search.
The line grinds to a halt as his screaming rises in volume and pitch. More guards show up. No one is getting through. The guy running in must be the security shift supervisor. He’s trying to calm the little tyrant, but no deal. He just gets madder.
While all this is going on, somewhere, they are interrogating the other guy from the tunnel. He’ll break within the hour, I expect. Breathing routines help me control my heartbeat, but the monster senses danger and conflict and wants to fight. Claw tips begin to grow. I force the monster back down.
Minutes feel like hours. They let the guy through, and I don’t need enhanced hearing to hear him bellowing all the way down the hall. The lines are all jammed up, and everyone is short tempered. The guards yield to pressure and start letting us through more quickly. Everyone is still going through the scanner pylons, but they abandon procedure and let people through without the usual intensive scrutiny. How much can it hurt, right?
I pass through the crystal pylons.
Nothing happens. I let out my breath. Now, I’m just another person in the crowd. I don’t even stand out as a Terran; about half the people here are Terrans.
The security line will bar the way back, and the computers recorded my time of entry and ID. No way back now. I’m committed.
My whole face has begun to itch. As I rub it, an oily film comes away. Dead epithelial symbionts.
My disguise is dying.
* * * * *
Chapter 65
The sanitation curtain crackles and smells of ozone as I rush into the bathroom. My footsteps echo on synthetic marble as I run over to the mirrors for confirmation. I tear my glasses off and stare at myself.
My face is melting. Long, ropy strands of dying cells slough off my face and run down it, and it loses all distinction. My hair easily comes out in strands. There is a wet plop as my left cheek slides off and lands in the basin. Ropy strings of dead skin web my hands when I hold them up.
There is no pain, it’s just the epithelial symbionts of my disguise, not my real face.
What caused it? This disguise should have lasted days or weeks, living off nourishment from my capillaries. The monster. It must have responded to it like it was fighting a foreign disease. Or maybe it was just a turf fight, one parasite verses another. Either way, the monster fought and won over my disguise.
Water vapor blasts up from the rim of the basin as I turn it on high. I dunk my face inside, washing the useless disguise off my face and hands. No alarm sounds, yet. The drain is programmed to search for drugs and contraband, not dead flesh.
My familiar, bald features are back and ugly as ever as I towel off.
Now I have the face of a wanted man. The cameras are recording everything, of course. I’ll have to do something about that, fast. I jam a code breaker into a port by the sink and whip the shades back on.
“Sharron,” I sub-vocalize, “I need you to access the local cameras. Delete the current image and set up a loop with my previous face and ID.” The shades access the nearby sink terminal via wireless communication as Sharron goes through the systems.
“It’s just a local system, Brandt,” she reports. “I’ll be able to scrub this before it downloads to the main system and put in a resident program to fool it for a while, but I cannot access anything higher from here.”
“That will have to do.”
That was fast, even for Lunar technology.
Am I trapped in here? There is no hiding from the cameras; they are everywhere. The tower’s main system is collecting all that data and analyzing it, constantly checking for facial recognition or unusual behavior patterns. Anything could set off an alarm and send an army after me. A real army, not just the rented goons I’ve been fighting so far.
The murder-lab wants me dead, but is the main system, here, set to trigger an alarm after seeing my face? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I’ll attract less attention with my own face than walking around as the Amazing Melting Man. Once the master systems recognize me, though, the alarm is likely to be silent, and some kind of ambush will be set up. I’ll have to watch for any signs of that.
There is also the issue of leaving. Basically, I can’t. When I go back through security, my ID won’t match the ID I checked in with. My first warning will be the suppression fields hitting me from the security pylons. Then there will be the security guards, coming at me, while the heavy security doors and isolation fields lock the place down. If I’m somehow still alive after that, the Special Security teams will pop up from wherever they are hiding and turn me into a cloud of free ions with the heavy hardware they’re packing.
I doubt the monster can regenerate me if I’m atomized.
I can’t wait here, so it looks like I’ll have to take my chances outside.
Time to be ready for action. I break out my weapon components and reassemble, load, power, and re-initialize my guns. Thirty seconds. I’ve still got it.
; I conceal my weapons when I hear someone coming. I check myself in the mirror. Any gunk left on my face? Nope. Just act natural. No need to cause an early alarm.
A security guard bursts into the restroom.
* * * * *
Chapter 66
The masked guard runs past me without a word, whips open a stall and dives in. After a brief rustling, organic sounds and smells emanate through the privacy barrier.
When you gotta go, you gotta go. He has dropped his armor and belt on the floor.
His gear gives me an idea.
“Sharron,” I sub-vocalize, “can you access the guard’s computers and overlay a transmission, impersonating him to the master systems?”
“I’ll need physical access first,” she replies.
“OK, thanks.”
I get out the needler. Silent and fast, it won’t make a mess or leave a visible wound. I weigh two magazines—lethal poison or narcotic tranquilizers? Killing this guy won’t make my mission any easier; once I KO him, he’s no further threat. I select the tranqs.
I kick in the stall door and shoot the surprised guard in the face. He gasps, trying to say something, then falls limp and finishes his business. The dart’s computer will regulate the amount of drugs it pumps into his system, keeping him out for hours.
“Sleep tight,” I whisper.
I move fast, plug a lead into the guard’s computers, and let Sharron go to work. While that’s happening, I grab the guard’s gear, weapons, and armor. It looks like the Terran Guard haven’t changed their loadout gear much.
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