by G J Ogden
During their journey from Vesta to the hideout, Dakota had explained that the vessels had been stolen from dozens of orbital and deep-space scrapyards over a number of years. After Dr. Rand’s cyber-attack had put the Randenite refineries out of action, with the exception of the Centrum, thousands of interstellar ships ended up being mothballed or sold for scrap. There simply wasn’t enough fuel to sustain them all. And even for the majority of haulage firms and interstellar transport companies that could get hold of Randenite, the radically spiraling fuel costs soon put them out of business. However, while the market for interstellar transportation and haulage contracted massively, the Centrum still produced enough Randenite to keep the network of bridge worlds supplied and fed.
Hallam followed Dakota toward the hangar exit as engineering crews rushed in to take care of her fighter. In amongst the throng of blue overall-wearing techs, there was someone else approaching, and she looked ready for a war.
“What the hell happened out there?” yelled the woman, marching directly up to Dakota and blocking her path.
“Kien disobeyed my order and got himself killed, that’s what happened,” snarled Dakota, meeting fire with fire.
“You should have let me come with you, like I said. Then he wouldn’t have felt like he had to go it alone,” the woman hit back, eyes still locked on to Dakota’s. “But it sounds like we were both right, because he saved your ass.” Hallam felt as though he was invisible.
Dakota stood her ground. However, although she was giving no quarter, she hadn’t gotten angry. It was a side to his usually hotheaded partner he hadn’t seen before; Dakota was usually the one to give in to emotion.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Dakota replied. “But the fool got himself killed in the process, which was exactly why I told you both to sit this out, so that no one else was put in danger. He made his choice, Ruby; that’s on him, not me.”
The woman Dakota had addressed as Ruby blew a loud huff from her nostrils, like an angry bull, but then seemed to back down and concede Dakota’s point. Then, for the first time since she’d stormed onto the hangar deck, spoiling for a fight, her eyes flicked over to Hallam. Suddenly, a blue bubble of gum inflated out of her mouth, popped, and was sucked back through her pouty lips.
“I just hope he’s worth it,” Ruby said, still glaring at Hallam.
“I went to Vesta for the tech, not for him,” Dakota replied before realizing her slip, and adding, while glancing awkwardly at Hallam, “Though I wanted to rescue Hal too, of course.”
Hallam let out an affronted snort-laugh, shaking his head at both of them. “Way to make a guy feel welcome,” he said, altering his gaze between Dakota and Ruby. “Do you want to just blast me out of the airlock now, or are you not done insulting me yet?”
“Oh, boo hoo, tanker man,” Ruby hit back, pretending to rub her eye with her fist. “If it were up to me, you’d have been jettisoned into bridge space before you even got here.”
“Then I’m glad it’s not up to you,” Hallam snapped back. He’d always considered himself a gregarious and easy-going sort of guy, but the speed with which Ruby had jumped down his throat had really got his back up.
“Alright, knock it off,” Dakota cut in, for once being the mediator rather than the instigator. To Ruby, she added, “We’ll talk about Kien later; right now, we need to see Dr. Rand and figure out our next move. The Blackfire Squadron showing up on Vesta was no coincidence. If they’re involved, Doyle may be stepping up his offensive against us. We need to know why.”
Ruby chewed her gum aggressively for a couple of seconds before saying, “Fine…” in the sort of manner people say “fine” when they don’t mean it. She then again glared at Hallam before blowing out another large blue bubble. They all waited for it to pop before Ruby added, “So what are we doing about tanker man; is he coming too, or do we airlock him?”
Hallam watched as Ruby blew out another bubble, but instead of waiting for it to pop, this time, he stabbed it with the end of his finger. The blue gum exploded onto Ruby’s chin, and she quickly peeled it off, looking annoyed and embarrassed.
“I’m coming too,” Hallam said, choosing also to fight fire with fire. “And the name is Hallam, by the way. Hallam Knight.” He folded his arms and held Ruby’s now narrowed eyes. “You got a full name, or should I just call you Ruby Gumface?”
Hallam saw Dakota smirk in his peripheral vision, though Ruby’s expression was still as hard as iron. “Call me gumface if you want a kick in the balls,” she answered, though ironically, her tone was a touch friendlier than it had been at the start. “But the name is Ruby Rivas, or Wolf Three when I’m in the cockpit. However, you can call me…” she then paused and stared pensively at the ceiling, before clicking her fingers and meeting Hallam’s gaze again with wide eyes. “…you can call me nothing at all, because I don’t want your sorry ass to speak to me, ever again.”
“No problem, gumface,” replied Hallam, smirking. Ruby, however, didn’t see the funny side. She was ready to launch her promised kick to Hallam’s nether regions, when the appearance of Shelby Rand snapped her to attention, like a rookie on parade.
“Is there a problem here, Miss Rivas?” said Dr. Rand, raising an eyebrow toward the young pilot.
“No, ma’am, I’m just welcoming our new guest,” replied Ruby, now fully focused on Dr. Rand.
“Good, well, we can save the formal introductions till later,” said Dr. Rand, turning to Hallam, “Right now, we have more important matters to attend to.”
Hallam reached into his pocket and removed the authenticator he’d stolen from the Consortium HQ, handing it to Dr. Rand. “I hope this thing turns out to be worth all the trouble,” he said.
“My sentiments exactly…” added Ruby, shooting a quick glance toward Hallam but maintaining her more soldierly posture.
“The codes stored in this device will have already been changed, but if I can pick apart how it functions, then it could still prove extremely valuable,” said Dr. Rand, holding up the device to Hallam and adding, “Thank you, Mr. Knight. I know it must not have been easy to get hold of this.”
“No problem, Doc,” replied Hallam. “A little more warning next time would be nice, though.”
Ruby sprang up next to Dr. Rand, looking anxious. “What do you mean, ‘next time’? Surely he’s not staying with us?”
“Well, I can hardly go back to flying tankers, now can I?” Hallam hit back. It hadn’t taken long for Ruby’s temper to reassert itself.
“What Mr. Knight does or does not do next is none of your business, Miss Rivas,” Dr. Rand cut in, eager to diffuse the obvious tension between them. “But it may be some time before I can decipher how this device works.”
“Time is something we may soon be running short of,” said Dakota, stepping up and taking charge of the conversation. “It was the Blackfire Squadron that intercepted us on Vesta. Our intel put them on the other side of the bridge network at the time I departed here, so for them to be called in so quickly, it must have come from Doyle.”
Dr. Rand’s eyes narrowed. “You think he suspects something? About the bases, or even me?”
“I think we can’t take any chances,” Dakota answered confidently. “I think we need to step up our plans and move for the probe sooner, rather than later.”
Dr. Rand contemplated this for a moment before turning back to Hallam. “And what about you, Mr. Knight? Are you ready to pick a side yet?”
“I thought I already had,” said Hallam, feeling a little insulted that his recent actions hadn’t made that obvious.
“It gets much more serious from here on, Mr. Knight,” Dr. Rand answered darkly. “Are you ready to put your life on the line, like Kien did, and like Dakota and Ruby do every day?”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Doc,” Hallam replied a little evasively; the question had made him feel strangely uncomfortable. “I’m done with the Consortium.”
Dr. Rand nodded and smiled politely, although she
seemed less than convinced. “I hope that’s true. Though I very much doubt the Consortium are done with you.”
Dr. Rand then turned to leave, but she only made it a couple of steps before stopping and meeting Dakota’s eyes, head bowed a little. “There will be a memorial service for Kien Anders in the morning. Please see to the arrangements.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Dakota before Dr. Rand moved away, head still tilted toward the cold metal deck of the hangar.
23
Scarlett Brock lay slumped over, face down on her office desk, blood leaking from her broken nose. Draga Vex watched with interest as the thick, red liquid flowed across the imperfections in the surface. It pooled in certain places, while in others it ran off and danced around the various frivolous office accessories that were also on the desk. Cad knew Draga hadn’t even gotten warmed up yet; in a few minutes, any number of Scarlett Brock’s office trinkets would be used in cruel and creative ways, all designed to elicit the maximum amount of pain. However, as much as he enjoyed watching Draga indulge in her favorite pastime, they needed to move fast. This would inevitably mean spoiling her fun, catching it in the neck from her as a result.
The easy part of their plan had been dragging a drugged Scarlett Brock out of her house in the middle of the night and into an unmarked transport. This had been a helpful addition, courtesy of one of Doyle’s many business assets on Janus. They had then managed to sneak into the Wareham Enterprises tower block through the basement garage, and haul the then-delirious Scarlett Brock up to the Wareham & Doyle office on the fifty-third floor. Secrecy and anonymity had been assured though a combination of Alexis’ technical prowess, and the fact that half of the building was owned by Doyle. This had allowed them to access and amend the guard duty rota, as well as download detailed plans for the building’s security systems, which Alexis had then duly hacked. However, they still had to be gone from the office by five a.m. local, before the next guard shift arrived.
“Look, Scarlett, we know who you are, and we know you feed information to the renegades,” said Cad as he patted the flat of his sword blade on the back of the woman’s neck. “So let’s just cut the crap and get down to it, before we really have to hurt you.”
Draga suddenly reached down and pressed Scarlett Brock’s face into the desk, creating a grotesquely bloody imprint that wouldn’t have been out of place in a modern art exhibition.
“Please don’t help us,” Draga said, whispering into Scarlett Brock’s ear like a demonic spirit before steadily increasing the pressure on her skull. “Please let me hurt you some more…”
Cad sighed and slid the blade off the woman’s neck before resting on it like a cane. “Just use the drugs already; we don’t have time for this.”
Draga released the woman, who was now gently sobbing, spilling hot tears into the rapidly cooling blood. Draga looked incensed, and Cad knew he was about to get an ear-bashing.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, Draga. We can’t hang around here all night,” Cad said, trying to head off her complaint. “Besides, once we have the location of the renegade hideout, there will be more than enough bodies to satisfy your hunger.”
Draga grumbled some words under her breath, most of which seemed to be either curses or insults, before yanking a syringe out of a pouch on her belt. Without hesitation, she plunged it into the woman’s neck, injected the contents as she squirmed underneath her vise-like grip, then discarded it onto the floor.
Cad threw his arms out wide, “Come on, Draga. Evidence…” he said before extending an open palm toward the syringe.
Draga sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s hardly like we’re not leaving a trail already,” she complained, picking it up and placing it back in the pouch. “Doyle’s cleaners would have taken care of it anyway.”
Cad watched as Scarlett Brock lolled back in her chair, looking drunk. “The cleaner will take care of her and the room,” he said while frowning at the woman, who appeared to be having a far more severe reaction to the drugs than he’d expected. “But we don’t leave anything that could tie us to this place. Anyway, you know I hate mess.” Then he looked up at Draga again, scowling. “How much of that stuff did you give her? She looks dead already.”
“Enough…” replied Draga huffily.
“It’s crimson henbane, Draga, not paracetamol,” Cad hit back. “Too much will turn her brain to mush before we can get anything useful from her.”
Crimson henbane was derived from a genetically engineered species of deadly nightshade that now grew wild on the dry, loamy soils of Vediovis’ northeastern continent. It was ideal for making people suggestible, but had the unfortunate side-effect of killing them afterwards. This was especially true in very high doses, which was what Draga appeared to have injected Scarlett Brock with as a protest against Cad for ruining her fun.
“I hate to break up the party, but we have a couple of hours before the guard switchover, during which time the building’s security system reverts back to the regular camera feed,” Alexis suddenly chimed in. She was currently in the more playful of her dual personalities, since the current task did not require her particular expertise or combat proficiency. As such, she was sitting in one of the guest chairs with her feet up on the desk, playing a puzzle game on her palm computer. “And we still have to get the cleaner in, so can we hurry this up a little, maybe?”
Draga folded her arms and glared back at Cad. “She’ll be compliant for a few minutes,” she said, still looking moody before adding with the faintest suggestion of a smirk, “And then dead for quite a few more minutes after that.”
Cad sighed and perched himself on the edge of the desk, careful to avoid sitting in any blood. He drew the computer’s holo-display emitter closer to the woman’s face and pushed her keyboard in front of her hands. It slid across the blood-soaked surface like a vehicle aquaplaning on water. Cad then lifted his Black Prince sword and tapped the flat of the blade on top of Scarlett Brock’s head, as if he were knocking to enter a room.
“Hello, Scarlett, this is the Darkspace Renegades calling,” he said in a sort of soothing, storyteller voice. “Are you ready to send us some more data?”
Scarlett frowned and stared at the computer monitor. “You’re not s'posed to contact me directly…” she slurred.
Alexis laughed. “She sounds hammered!” But Cad and Draga both glared at her, and she realized her mistake, pressing a finger to her lips.
“Who’s there?” yelled Scarlett Brock, groggily looking around the room.
“It’s just us, the Darkspace Renegades,” said Cad, still in his soothing accent. “We need your help. It’s an emergency. Can you send us the information you have, right away?”
The woman still appeared to look confused. “But I’m not due to make a transmission till Tuesday,” she said, now peering at the holo screen. It was like Cad and the others were ghosts. “If I transmit from here too frequently, I risk being detected.”
“We’ve taken care of everything, Scarlett,” sang Cad. “You’re completely safe. But we’re all in danger, Scarlett. Without your help, we can’t go on. The Consortium will continue building more bridges to more and more planets. That would be terrible, wouldn’t it, Scarlett?”
“Yes, it would,” the woman replied, suddenly growing sad. “Okay, I’ll send you what I have,” she continued, reaching for the keyboard. The sleeves of her jacket dipped into the blood and began to soak it up.
Cad nodded to Alexis, who swiftly slid her feet off the desk before silently moving to Scarlett’s side. She then removed the device Falken had given them and placed it on the desk, next to the computer terminal unit, careful to avoid any blood. Still without making a sound, she then switched from the puzzle game on her palm computer to a BridgeNet route tracing app. A circle of light on the top of the device lit up and Alexis nodded back to Cad.
“Hurry, Scarlett. We might lose the connection soon,” said Cad, continuing in his whispery delivery.
“I’m trying…” s
aid Scarlett as Cad watched her follow an elaborate procedure on the computer, entering what appeared to be a secure armored terminal environment and typing all of the content in code. Cad could only presume she must have memorized it, like learning a new language.
Damn, Rand really has gone to a lot of trouble to protect these hideouts… Cad mused as the woman worked. It was almost enough to impress him, but not quite. After all, he’d manage to follow Dr. Rand’s trail and was on the verge of striking at the heart of her organization. He’d gotten the better of her, and knowing this merely reinforced his already robust opinion of himself.
Scarlett then paused, reached a hand up to her chest and pulled out a small silver pendant necklace. She squeezed the top and bottom gently, and the metal glowed with a sequence of numbers and letters, similar to the code she was entering. Cad glanced at Alexis, who was the one that got a kick out of technology, and she shot a look back that told him she was highly impressed. She mouthed the word authenticator at him, and Cad understood the pendant’s significance. It was basically like a key, providing Scarlett Brock with access to Dr. Rand’s hidden network.
A couple more minutes went by, where everyone remained as still and as silent as the empty cubicles outside the office. The circle of light on Falken’s device continued to swirl hypnotically as she worked, until Scarlett was finally done.
“I’ve sent… what I… have,” the woman slurred before shutting down the armored terminal and restoring the computer display to its normal user interface. “Did… you get… it?”