Heretics (Stars Edge: Nel Bently Book 4)

by V. S. Holmes

  When she emerged, she found them both in the kitchen, Dar poring over a mess of papers and a large holographic computer screen while Emilio washed dishes from what must have been lunch. Her field pack sat at the end of the couch.

  Emilio glanced over at her and nodded to the silver decorated gourd steaming on the counter with a faint smile. “Feel better?”

  “Bit.” She sniffed the bright bitter drink. “Mate?”

  “Cousin from down south taught me. Thought we both could use caffeine. And the time to talk.”

  The symbolism wasn’t lost on her, and she whispered a quiet thanks before taking a deep sip through its silver straw before offering it to Dar. The man waved it away, eyes fixed on his screen.

  “So.” Nel crossed her arms.

  “So.” Emilio was leaner than before, new muscles stark under his brown skin. Bright pink scars laced the right side of his face and peppered one shoulder. His shaggy hair was more salt than pepper. “Glad you made it.”

  “You too.” She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. “So, how’d I get here? Last I remember I was being an asshole in a helicopter trying to figure out how to dump a doomsday device into the sea.”

  “Of all the things, that is the most Nel plan I’ve heard. A few hours ago, I heard someone hammering at my door. When I opened it, you were slumped on the stoop with a note pinned to your shirt.” He chuckled. “Said ‘Trowel gone rogue.’”

  Nel snorted. “I’m impressed she had someone drop me here. She should have chucked me out the chopper hatch.”

  “I think you’ll find most of us down here value human life a bit more than our starborn cousins.”

  “Shut it, Sepulveda,” Dar interrupted. “Andy dropped you here because her client asked her to.”

  “Her client?”

  His grin was predatory. “You think just anyone has the money and clout to get a journalist into IDH’s missions?”

  The spaceship in Chile’s desert. “You crashed here,” Nel realized.

  “Not through any fault of my own,” Dar snapped. “I was betting on Alexandria’s computer being fully online. Can’t override a shuttle’s autopilot trajectory with a defunct senti-comp. Best I could do was crash it using its history.”

  “CE7? Will you lot stop trying to ruin my site?”

  “Yours?” Emilio’s brows rose, but he waved away her stammered apology. “We got your message, by the way. About the device. That true?”

  Nel shrugged. “Seemed pretty convincing to me. Lin told me it was some dampening device they were going to protect us with. Dar would probably know more.”

  He shook his head. “Haven’t been in the loop since I left Odyssey. Part of going off-radar, Bently.”

  “Right.” Nel raked a hand through her sopping hair. “Well the thing that opened Samsara was almost identical to the device arriving at ALMA right now. Arnav’s reports say whatever changed the planet was a prototype, maybe. A trial. If it failed, a gate opened to lead to the next stage of testing: Earth. So, here we are.”

  Emilio took a sip before handing the drink back to Nel. “You have a stack of evidence here, you’re telling me not a single person listened? Not even Letnan Nalawangsa?”

  Dar snorted. “Ever tried to convince her of something? Bitch is even more stubborn than me.”

  Nel squirmed. “Guess I just spouted off my mouth enough they’ve all decided to stop listening. Honestly, I don’t know if IDH is doing it, or they just aren’t stopping whoever is. Doesn’t really matter.”

  Dar frowned at the table before them, dark brows curled in a knot. “Killing Earth, even with a dozen contingency plans up in the sky, is foolish. IDH is complicated, but they have never been outright fools.”

  “You think it’s the Teachers, then?” Emilio asked.

  “I think it’s someone with as much influence and no morals,” Dar decided. “Beyond that I’m refusing to speculate too deeply. I don’t want to color my vision when we unearth more evidence. By all the stories, they weren’t amoral when we first met them back then. But I see how thousands of years changed one species. I imagine it can change another just as much.”

  “What about you, Bently? You must have a theory. One doesn’t abandon their partner and only security on a gut feeling.”

  “Went into space on less,” she whispered. The colossus of Lin’s betrayal dwarfed the indignation at Harris’s. But the latter still stung. “But I do know Harris has no love for Earth. Told me that the first day we were here. I have no clue why he tried to befriend me.”

  “Don’t you?” Dar drawled.

  “It’s not like I’m anyone important, grand scheme. Hell, they didn’t even recognize me enough to catch my shitty hostage attempt.”

  Emilio took a long sip of mate. “You’re the biggest pain in their ass they’ve had for a while. Absurd plans that work solely because no one would try it. He kept tabs on you to manipulate and isolate you. I did the same when you dug down here—you know how loudmouthed you were over drinks downstairs?”

  “Point taken.” Nel flushed and drew the bitter liquid into her mouth, enjoying the buzz of energy and truth. “So, what now?”

  Emilio leaned back on the counter. “So this device, when did you say it arrived in ALMA?”

  “It was on the chopper with me.” Nel watched as he cleaned the gourd and resumed washing the rest of the dishes. “Best bet is it’s already there. Dar—can’t you just ask Andy to disarm the thing? She’s on your payroll or whatever.”

  “Every IDH system went down two hours ago. Every contact, even the database. Gone. Last thing that got out was some bullheaded archaeologist’s non-encrypted email in the middle of the night.”

  “What an asshole,” she joked.

  “The worst,” Emilio deadpanned.

  “Okay, what do we need?” Nel asked, plopping into the seat across from Dar.

  He glared and leaned away. “A working senti-comp or something with equal processing power to remote-access the device. The bomb’s disarm code. A whole lot of luck.”

  Emilio shuffled through satellite photos of ALMA, frown burrowing into his brow. “And what do we have?”

  “The senti-comp—she’s dead?” Nel asked.

  True sorrow flitted across Dar’s face. “When I got there, she was…” he shrugged, “empty. Doesn’t matter how much processing you have if there’s just no OS. Don’t know who did it, but it’s not right, doing that to something so beautiful.”

  Nel peered at him. Whatever her own opinions on senti-comps, she would never call them beautiful.

  He flashed a brittle smile at her apparent confusion. “My whole life has been around them. Had my life saved by more than a few. Kasanove—the one who controls my parents’ place—was practically an uncle.”

  “You can just erase them like a program?”

  Dar shrugged. “It’s murder. But yes. It’s what happened to Odyssey’s during the initial blackout on Samsara. Probably a safeguard so we couldn’t stop this. With the threat looming on Earth it was the perfect ruse to power Polyana down. By the time we would realize we couldn’t bring her back online, it’d be too late.”

  “So she’s just gone?”

  “I assume. Successful transfer has only been done a few times, with limited results. The power needed is astronomical.”

  I have as many processing units as most of Earth combined, Doctor. Polyana. A dozen pieces settled into place. She scrambled to her bag and pulled out her comm. It took a moment to find Phil’s first message to her. She settled back into her seat, staring at the attachment. “Dar, what’s a ‘thank’ file?”

  His eyes went wide. “A ‘think’ file, you mean?”

  “Phil sent me something at the beginning of this. Told me I might feel alone, but I wouldn’t be. I thought he was being colloquial.” She grinned, wolfish, and showed him her screen. “Harris might have dragged a doomsday device across the world, but apparently I had its kill-switch.” />
  Dar brushed a hand over the crackling holograph. “I kept her in stasis, much as I could. You’d have to be at the interface. But assuming no one’s found the crash, this could work.”

  “So, what—one: us three stroll out into the desert, boot up a supercomputer—if she’s stable. Two: convince her to hack into IDH—if we can get access to their network, which is down. Three: shut down the device—if we figure out the disarm codes. Whole lot of fucking ifs,” Nel mused. “And all of humanity riding on one file transfer.”

  “Unless you have a better plan,” Dar noted.

  “You’ve seen my plans.”

  “I do,” Emilio cut in. “Nalawangsa—your family has clearance for pretty much anything in IDH, correct?”

  “My codes are revoked,” he clarified.

  Nel grinned. “Lin gave me hers. You think he sneaks into ALMA?”

  Dar leaned forward, excitement erasing his distaste for physical proximity. “That’d be easy enough. I could get access to the system and figure out the disarm codes. Getting them to you would be the hardest part, honestly.”

  “Disarm codes don’t matter if we can’t get the computer online. But once we do,” Nel forced optimism into her voice, “you could radio to us.”

  Emilio tossed Lin’s brother a blocky wrist comm. “Founders tech. Different network than yours and encrypted. Been running since the beginning.” He looked over to Nel. “You think you can get into the ship on your own?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I know the area well enough. This high-tech stuff is pretty alien to me, but I think I could manage. Why? What about you?”

  “The backup plan.” His gaze was fixed a thousand miles away. “In case you fail.”

  Nel put a hand out, wondering if it was the concussions or the dread in his voice that set the world spinning. “Right. Yeah. Good. What’s the backup plan?”

  “Reapers,” whispered Dar.

  Emilio nodded. “We hoped to have enough time to get everyone to safety before it came to it. I’ll get a hold of Munashi Gamal. Call in every favor, grab as many people as we can and get clear of the planet.” He extended a piece of paper to Nel without meeting her eyes. “Look under ‘B.’”

  She unfolded it to find a passenger manifest; hundreds of names all bound for the same ship: Recursive. Sure enough, between Bedi and Berger was Mindi Bently. The rest of the names blurred as her eyes filled. “Where is she?”

  “Safe. No matter what happens down here. You and I would be on the same ship if it weren’t for that email you sent.”

  Nel turned away, pressing the list to her chest as if any movement too fast might send her mother’s name skittering off the paper. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. You gave us the time to maybe save more than just a handful of families. You risked your life to help us. Let’s call it even.”

  “No, Emilio. I smashed my way through this entire project, too wrapped up in my own bullshit to realize we were all suffering in the same damn boat. I made that mistake with you. With Lin. But I won’t again.”

  “This is sweet,” Dar ground out, gathering his computer and standing. “But love and platitudes won’t stop the world from blowing up.”

  Emilio tossed the man a set of keys. “Car’s out front. Tank should be full. Be careful.”

  “You too.” Dar turned to fix Nel with a narrow glare. “Are you sure you’ve got this?”

  They were shoulder to shoulder, his build so much like Lin’s her heart ached. “As I ever am. Look, about Lin—”

  “Can it, Bently. I’ll see you on the other side.” And then the door slammed shut and she and Emilio were left in silence.

  He drew a slow breath, then jerked a thumb at the infamous shed outside. “To business?”

  Nel followed him down the winding back staircase to the rear of the building. It was strange to smell the food and hear the bustle of dining after years away. For a heart-aching moment she longed to step inside and order a round, spend her last few hours on Earth lounging with the locals and pretending she didn’t know what was coming. That she didn’t know how to stop it.

  Emilio unlocked his shed—rebuilt after the fire, apparently, judging by the bright new wood. Inside, it was far from a garden shed. HAM radio equipment and several high-tech computers covered the benches, and a crate by the back wall held a pile of crumpled electromesh. He tugged the pull-switch to the naked bulb overhead and moved to boot up the radio.

  “That shit still scares me,” Nel confided.

  “I think we’re beyond that point now. Lesser of evils, you know?”

  “Right.” Nel peered around the room, skin crawling at the memories of when she last stood in this spot. The night my world changed.

  “You’re going to want to be armed.” He jerked a thumb at the box of electromesh.

  “Hard pass. Last one I tried wouldn’t pair with me. Or whatever. Fucking brain Bluetooth gives me the heebies. Besides, guns and gloves just make me more of a hazard.”

  “Impossible,” he argued without looking up from tuning the radio. “These aren’t IDH tech anyway. And if you think strolling into a potential firefight with one of the highest-ranking officers in IDH with nothing but a trowel and a fuck-you grin is going to work, I’ll remind you of how you ended up on my couch.”

  “Hopefully no one even knows Dar’s ship is here,” she said. Nel drew a breath and then another before tugging one of the suits from the crate. The fabric was essentially the same, but thicker, more rugged. Made for a life not enveloped in recycled air and gleaming lights. “Changing,” she warned, turning her back before exchanging Andy’s borrowed clothes for the unnerving press of electromesh. She zipped it up, flexing into the soft lining. A panel folded back in the inside of her forearm showing a thin wire running along the interior of the glove.

  Nel’s stomach churned at the thought. She couldn’t handle getting her ears pierced, and she’d never seen a diamond stud capable of thought-triggered oblivion. “Where—?”

  He reached over, thumb pressing a button in the corner.

  Fire blazed up Nel’s arm, biting inside her elbow, raging along her humerus and curling through her rotator cuff until it seared a spider-silk line through her head. “Motherfucker!”

  When her vision cleared Emilio wore an apologetic smile. “Going to punch me?”

  “Kinda really want to, yeah,” Nel spat. She was more concerned with the tingling tracing the heat up her limb. “What the fuck was that?”

  “IDH has really advanced tech. Wireless, touchless, all that. Everything running on signals and brainwaves and Wi-Fi. Founders do too, of course, but lately we all prefer these. A lot harder to hack.”

  Hardwired. Nel looked down at the leather and carbon fiber encasing her body. It wasn’t horror, exactly. A thrill, from the piece of her that met Phil’s eyes and still called him a man. Twisting there too, though, was the same sorrow and dread as when she first saw her foot, bandaged with fewer toes than that morning. At least gloves were removable.

  “At least it doesn’t talk to you. Makes it less creepy. More…”

  “You?”

  Nel winced. That was a circuit too far. “A tool.” The radio hissed static and she shot it a glare. She buckled her own comm over the bulky wrist of the Founder’s suit and blinked away the saltwater swell of feelings. There was everything and nothing left to do. She scrambled to think of something to stall, some excuse beyond cowardice that meant she and Emilio could just run for the last lifeboat off of Earth.

  The door at the rear of the shed groaned as Emilio levered it open. Nel slipped into the dark tunnel wishing Lin was there for this journey too. Wishing anyone was, frankly.

  “When you get to the fork after the cave, cut north—left. It’ll take you straight to the site. There’s a flashlight in your glove.”

  “Thanks.” Nel fumbled a button on her wrist and bright white light flooded the tunnel. She glanced back through
the narrowing crack of the door. “Lock it behind me. Just in case.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, face unreadable. “Thank you. And good luck.”

  “You too.” It was easy, she told herself. Dar would get her the codes. Emilio would get everyone off the planet. And I’ll make sure it doesn't get blown to kingdom come. The door thudded shut behind her. A series of clicks sealed her in. She gripped her bag and edged downward.

  ONE

  Nel’s nerves buzzed with a biological static that made it difficult to hear anything besides the pounding of her own heart. Bouncing shadows dotted her periphery with new monsters, but she didn’t trust her next step without it. It was easier this time, when they weren’t scrambling through the darkness, when all of this was brand new. Now, though, she was acutely aware of the press of earth. For someone who dug for a living, she didn’t like being surrounded by dirt.

  She reached the fork and cut left. The rock work here was newer, she noted. Maybe even since she was here last. There was so much she wanted to ask Emilio about his ancestors. All she had to do was make it through this. It seemed like an eternity before she was scrambling up an incline. She stumbled to a halt, heart sinking.

  The tunnel ended in a pile of rubble.

  Her gaze dropped to her free right hand, shaking. Before she could think better of it, she raised her hand and flexed. Sound and light rocked the tunnel and she ducked, holding her bag over her head. When her vision cleared, the blockage was gone, and she was looking at the gleaming interior of an IDH shuttlecraft.

  It was dark, lit only with flickering emergency lights. Sand and stone dust covered most of the surfaces. Nel scanned the floor for footprints or blood splatter. One set. She couldn’t say if they were Dar’s.

  She moved along the corridor, trying to recall the layout of the other shuttles she had been on. It was a deceptive word, she decided, ducking under a crumpled support beam and into the mess hall. IDH shuttles were built to carry hundreds of people. Why Dar commandeered one for his one-man head-napping was beyond her.

  She edged through the mess hall which, living up to its name, was scattered with dehydrated protein and steel dinnerware. Half the tables had been knocked from their bolts and were piled against the far door that led to the cockpit. Nel raised her hand, but lowered it a second later. She didn’t dare fire off an electric round when she had no idea what might be waiting in the next room. Scanning the upper walls, she caught sight of an air vent leading toward the front of the ship. Bingo. It would be harder than when Phil coached her through Odyssey’s ducts, but since when did “hard” stop Nel?