They weren’t yet close enough to the elevated ground level to make out any details about the swarms of people traversing the platforms, but she wasn’t going to be surprised if they all wore matching soot gray uniforms with close-clasped collars to keep their chins locked rigidly in place.
“I take back every cruel thing I ever said about Alliance military aesthetics. This place could use a bunch of gaudy brass accents and fountain walls something fierce.”
It wasn’t merely the architecture, either, though the ubiquitous monochrome steel was audacious in its melancholiness. Even the weather had gotten into the act. A blanket of leaden gray clouds extended from horizon to horizon, and it appeared those clouds had settled in for the duration.
“Did they pick the planet for the climate?”
Eren shrugged. “Probably.”
Caleb hadn’t responded to any of her attempts at dark humor, and he didn’t chime in now. As they descended toward the sprawling Machim Central Command Complex on precisely the vector and at precisely the speed which Entry Security Control had ordered them to proceed, she studied him, already knowing what she would find.
His jaw had locked into opposing right angles, while his eyes churned dark and turbulent. Eren had insisted they didn’t have enough crimson in them, so in a minute Caleb would add a solution via drops to heighten the effect.
He stared stonily out the viewport, though she doubted he was seeing the view. His focus was inward as he readied himself to become the very thing he despised.
He’d done it before; he’d played the part of criminals, drug runners and cold killers in sting operations for Division. But she didn’t dare allow this fact to discount the sacrifice he was making now, nor what it was costing him. This mission was a little more complex and a lot more personal than any undercover operation that had come before.
She wanted to tell him he needn’t torture himself so; whatever genetic heritage he shared with them, he was not one of these monsters, and he never could be. Not because he didn’t have darkness within him, but because he felt that darkness. He knew its nature and named it so.
If it were possible to do so, she’d take this burden from him. But instead she could only show him always how she believed in him.
As perimeter security hailed them and Valkyrie impersonated one of the automated navigation systems Anaden ships used, Eren touched Caleb’s arm. “Okay, it’s time for everyone to get into costume. Let’s get your eyes done and your cloak on, then Alex and I need to be invisible.”
She blinked out of the reverie and inhaled deeply. An existential crisis in the aftermath wasn’t going to matter a whit if they didn’t succeed here first. She wasn’t accompanying them, not at first, but in an abundance of caution she would be invisible on the ship in case it was scanned in some manner.
Caleb was adjusting his trench coat per Eren’s fashion advice when Valkyrie called for him. ‘The Central Command Complex docking security is requesting your authorization.’
He moved into the cockpit and activated the comm. “This is Inquisitor Andreas ela-Praesidis. I’m here on Assignment I-4821-F116-L024 to investigate a suspected breach of the Data Control Department server.”
They all held their breath.
“Clearance granted, Inquisitor. Proceed to docking berth E-51C.”
He turned and met her gaze. What she saw in his eyes tore at her heart, but she gave him a playful smile, mouthed ‘I love you,’ activated the Veil and vanished.
Caleb: Testing mission comms.
Alex: Check.
Eren: Check.
Valkyrie: Check
Caleb: Mesme?
Mnemosyne: Why must I reply ‘check’? What am I checking?
Alex: You’re checking to see if you can hear us and we can hear you.
Mnemosyne: Ah. I am able to do so. That is to say, check.
Caleb: Testing visual transmission.
On one of the screens she’d opened at the data center table, Caleb’s view of the cabin sprung to life. Valkyrie had developed a ware routine which used his eVi to access the feed from his ocular implant and send it to Valkyrie, and from Valkyrie to the table.
As a result, Alex was going to see everything he saw. Honestly, she may need a good chimeral, or at least a synthetic sedative, to avoid having heart failure.
She returned to the cockpit as the HQ complex began to dominate the scene outside. Six hulking wings surrounded a circular, open center lined in latticed towers.
A whoosh of movement upward corrected her assumption. It wasn’t an open center. It was a space elevator.
The docking bays extended out from the end of each wing of the building. They’d been directed to one on their right, but from the outside each section was identical to all the others.
The hull rumbled as they docked into one of thousands of berths.
Caleb moved to the airlock, then took a last look around the cabin, perhaps instinctively searching for her. The expression on his face as his eyes passed unknowingly over her chilled her to the bone. But it also gave her confidence.
He was going to be able to pull this off.
Caleb’s pace didn’t falter when he passed through the first Vigil security checkpoint. His gait didn’t hitch when he strode beyond a Praesidis Watchman—identifiable as such by the attire Eren had described, but also by the increased hum of the diati beneath his skin—nor when multiple drones scanning everyone in the area circled him twice.
Inquisitors did not wait for approval. They were their own approval.
Those he encountered seemed to agree, for to a one they behaved respectfully toward him, often retreating as he passed. One young man even bowed to him.
For the briefest moment he was back in his old life, before the Metigens, before Alex, before the Humans Against Artificials operation went south, laughing with Samuel over drinks about some goon bowing to him on a mission. It helped to imagine that; it helped to frame this as just another undercover mission, and not something far more unsettling, if also far more important.
The mental distance allowed him to study the setting with a critical eye.
Most of the staff and nearly all the visitors were Machim. The Dynasty was identifiable on sight by their stocky, muscular build, tawny complexions and always trimmed hair, which ranged from dirty blond to a dull chestnut brown.
According to Eren, Vigil was a multi-Dynasty security organization staffed by local officers, a horde of drones and a small number of supervisors, typically Machim or Praesidis. This explained the Watchman’s presence amid the overwhelmingly Machim security officers.
He’d yet to see a single alien—non-Anaden alien, he hurriedly corrected himself. The Anadens looked disturbingly familiar, but they were not human. They hadn’t been so for hundreds of thousands of years.
This included his mission partner, aligned interests and tentatively burgeoning friendship notwithstanding. They may genuinely be on the same side, but Eren’s moral paradigm, social references and historical memory—not to mention his actual genetics—made him more alien than Pinchu or Iona-Cead Jaisc. Admittedly, not more alien than Akeso.
Eren: Take a left here. Okay, this guy you’re going to have to answer to. By his uniform and accoutrements, he’s a mid-level officer, probably a ploiarch rank, and on-duty head of dock security.
Caleb didn’t respond but came to a curt halt at the checkpoint.
The officer frowned at him. “Inquisitor. Your entry filing states you’re here to investigate a possible data breach? I’m not aware of any breach, and I would expect such an incident to have prompted heightened security measures.”
“Primor Machim is keeping the breach quiet due to the sensitive nature of the data which has been compromised. The investigation was instituted at the highest level, and at present no more than five individuals are aware of it. You are not one of those five.”
The man bristled. “The fact remains I can’t allow visitors into the Data Control Department without prior—”
<
br /> Caleb flicked his wrist in a small, controlled motion, and the man blinked in surprise. He’d be feeling an unusual tightness in his chest about now.
“Ploiarch, I do not require your blessing to pursue my investigation. The only blessing I require is that of my Primor and yours, which I carry in full or I would not be here. I indulged your inquiry for politeness’ sake, but I will be proceeding to the Data Control Department now.”
“Ah…” the man cleared his throat nervously “…yes, Inquisitor. Of course. Take the third transit tube down to—”
“I know where it is.” Caleb walked off, leaving the man stuttering.
Eren: Holy gods. That was scary good.
Alex: Well, he is.
Caleb kept his eyes locked ahead, to all appearances ignoring the heavily armed soldiers moving with purpose in all directions along the wide passages as he left the docking area for the innards of the facility. He was deep in the enemy’s lair, but all here deferred to him.
He loathed it.
The first lift ride was short and uneventful. A series of interchangeable hallways followed, then a ride down a large, circular pad that was closer to a transport than a lift in the company of a dozen predictably dour soldiers. He maneuvered through another checkpoint, easily on account of the officer from the docks having cleared him through the system.
The halls narrowed and the lifts shrank in size as they descended into the bowels of the Complex. The final lift down to the Data Control level was squeezed into a transit tube less than two meters wide, and they had another passenger.
Eren cursed on the comm channel as he tiptoed this way and that to avoid the woman’s shifting stance. The woman dipped her chin demurely at Caleb as she departed, leaving them to continue down another twenty levels alone.
Eren: Data Control security should be mostly automated and staffed by Machim-modified Vigil drone units.
Caleb: Is that better or worse?
Eren: Worse—they won’t care that you look like an Inquisitor, only that you are one. You’ve got the spoofed credentials ready? The drones will read the coded information directly.
Caleb: I do.
In the last day he’d learned the anarch resistance possessed an impressive library of information about the security protocols in use at high-level Anaden facilities; they simply didn’t have the other pieces needed to make proper use of the information. Pieces like Caleb.
But it meant in theory he carried on him or in his eVi all the credentials, passcodes and authorizations he needed to reach the data server and access it.
The first checkpoint on the Data Control level was automated. Caleb held up the Reor slab containing his authorization and allowed the scanner to ping it.
Upon receiving a beep in response, he walked through the force field while invisible Eren physically clung to him. It was the only way for the anarch to get through, and a fresh string of curses, most of them gibberish even with a translator, accompanied the act.
Eren: Let’s never do that again.
Caleb: Agreed.
Two Vigil drones staffed the next security gate. They were more interested in his person than his credentials, and they scanned him twice. For weapons? Inquisitors didn’t need weapons. But these were non-sentient machines, after all, doing the job they’d been programmed to do.
The Veil mirage held as the scanners incidentally passed over Eren as well, and a large glass door Caleb hadn’t realized was there opened to allow him entry.
It turned out to be not merely a door but also a projection. What had appeared to be a continuation of the hallway transformed into a warehouse room some two hundred fifty meters long and almost as wide. Machim workers—organic, not mechanical—staffed rows upon rows of workstations.
Eren: Keep walking straight ahead, right down the middle. The server room should be behind this workroom.
He ignored the stares as he strode down the gauntlet of workers. They were beneath him, so inconsequential they may as well not exist.
…It wasn’t so difficult to envision how Inquisitors came to wield their power so casually and callously.
In his peripheral vision, he noted several of the Machim stood and scurried toward the door as soon as he passed them, presumably not wanting to be around when the trouble which brought an Inquisitor here came to fruition.
A yet larger, more intimidating large black orb waited for them at the entrance to the server room.
Its electronic voice boomed with programmed authority. “This is a restricted area. Provide your authorization or be pacified.”
Caleb again presented the Reor slab. “Inquisitor Andreas ela-Praesidis, here on an official investigation. I require access to the data server.”
The Vigil unit whirred in judgment for several seconds. “Authorization granted. Your presence in the server room will be monitored.”
Caleb: Shit.
Eren: It’s not a problem. I expected this. I’ll handle it.
He nodded brusquely. “Understood, but I should not be interrupted.”
“This way.” The unit didn’t indicate whether Caleb’s declaration would be honored as it rotated and entered an anteroom. A large metal door receded into the wall and a force field dissipated.
He suspected Eren rushed through, but he forced himself to stride deliberately but coolly. Once he reached the other side he spun and glared at the Vigil unit in bona fide disdain.
“Close the door behind me. As I stated, I don’t wish to be interrupted, and this is a high-security investigation which the asi in the workroom cannot be allowed to observe.”
The unit whirred, and the door closed behind it.
Caleb didn’t break character. Now what about the surveillance?
Eren: Bypassing and looping it now. Ten more seconds. Walk toward the display panel ahead of you and to your left.
He did as instructed.
“Done.” Eren appeared, visible, at his side.
“You’re sure?”
“We’ll know in a few seconds if I’m not.”
No alarms pealed, and no soldiers stormed the room. Eren shrugged. “See? It worked. The looping footage should be good for eighteen minutes.”
Caleb: Alex, Mesme, you’re clear to join us.
Alex: On the way.
The air began to glow a pale blue near the entrance to the room. It gained definition and luminosity then substance, and Alex leapt out of the center of the gleaming lights in her own tornado of energy.
His forced façade crumbled and fell away on seeing her. Her presence here was like an ocean breeze invading a tomb. When she reached him he grasped her hands firmly, and their foreheads dropped to touch one another for a breath.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi yourself, priyazn.” She exhaled. “Time to work.”
“Go. I’ve got your back.”
She surveyed the substantial hardware. “Eren, tell me there’s an external access point, then tell me you know where it is.”
“This way.” He jerked his head down an aisle and moved to a virtual panel at the start of the aisle. “I’m inputting the access key string to gain entry to the server lobby and….”
Several meters farther down an iris cover rotated open to reveal an intricate matrix of pulsing light within. Some of the data streams branched off to connect to stacks of Reor slabs deeper in the room, while others continued into the shadowy depths and destinations unknown.
Eren returned to Alex. “Now, in order to read the data, find what you need and copy it, I think you need to start by—”
“We don’t have time for subtlety.” Alex studied the matrix for a beat then stretched her arm out, fingers drawn together and flattened to form a knife.
She thrust her hand and half her arm into the labyrinth of light.
Her stare blanked, and in the halo of the matrix her eyes and glyphs blazed so radiantly she looked as if she were being consumed by a primordial fire.
Eren took a hesitant step back and glanced at Caleb. �
�She just stuck her hand into the data server’s central matrix.”
Caleb smiled, watching on in blatant awe. “She does that.”
Mnemosyne: He speaks truth.
“Isn’t she going to get electrocuted? Or overload her cybernetics?”
“Hasn’t so far.”
Eren peered at Alex. “Huh.”
Caleb: Valkyrie, how are we doing?
Valkyrie: We have located the primary data store and the index for comprehensive Machim fleet information. I am beginning the upload stream.
Caleb: Terrific. Alex doing okay?
Valkyrie: Alex is occupied passing judgment on the weapons research data.
Caleb: Yeah, she’s fine.
“Halt! Vigil authority!”
The shout rang out simultaneously with the hefty door sliding open. The next second several things happened at once.
Eren flung some kind of mesh net over one of the drones charging through the doorway on his way to the shadows of a far server aisle. The net closed around the drone, sending it sputtering in erratic circles.
Mesme dissipated into nothingness.
Caleb sprinted toward Alex while calling up the diati, readying to direct its full force at the Watchman and two remaining drones in the doorway. Valkyrie, get her out of that matrix!
Valkyrie: There is—
A figure stepped out from behind the server block and wrapped a garrote around Alex’s neck, then yanked her backward out of the matrix and into his clutches.
She was blinking rapidly, dazed. He couldn’t say what damage the abrupt disconnection might have done, except it hadn’t killed her.
“Move a fraction closer, and her throat is slit.”
Two men, two armed drones. Four targets increasingly spread across the room. He couldn’t take them all out before the garrote was tightened—at least, he didn’t know that he could.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 27