A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle) (38 page)

"Right now we're not too sure if Gideon's still in the picture or not," Marc finished. "If he is, we might be able to work him into Diomedes's part of the plan."

"Plan?"

"The AoA's taking control of the base," Michael said. "Assuming there's something left to take control of."

"Some good news, at last. Though at the present, th
at may be a failingly large assumption." Even so, the prospect set her looking forward to such freedom. "And how do you intend to overcome our current situation? Or do you know?"

"I think we'll need you to tell us if the plan we do have
will still work," Michael said.

"What do you have?"

The young man—not too much older than Nicholas Boyd, though a more welcome presence—looked to Marc, who bit his lip and drew a breath. "First thing's first. That shuttle on the pad outside, is it functional? Could it evacuate everyone here?"

"
Functional, but not fueled. We cannot prep it without the complex computer, nor can we board it outside without controlling the gantry."

"We could use the suits we brought," Michael suggested. "Get people in there a few a
t a time, if we have to. Except—"

"That achieves nothing if the shuttle cannot be prepped," Marette finished for him. "We need the main computer."

Marc nodded. "We're going to need the main computer for the rest of our plan to work, anyway."

"We do have a backup system core that we
can use if the main system is shut down," she said. "Remove the old core in Primary Control and then replace it with the backup. It essentially replaces Omicron's entire system."

"And you're sure the backup's not corrupted?"

She frowned at the question. "We are not entirely foolish here, Marc. It was never used and has been completely isolated since its arrival." The core was originally intended as a standard backup in the event of a power surge or some other mundane circumstance. ESA did not guess it would be used for this particular cause, but it would serve regardless. In that, at least, they had been competent. "It is a component in a box, completely inactive until installed, and there is no way for it to have been accessed remotely."

"Perfect. We'll just need to make sure it stays that way once it's installed."

"Quite obviously. One thing the crew did manage before we became trapped in here was to sever the connection between Omicron's systems and the receiver for the short-range link to
Paragon
itself."

"How
severed?"

"Chopped. In. Half." She paused long enough to savor the satisfaction the words gave
her. "Though it shall be prudent to confirm that this remains so. As for the rest, the good news is that we have the backup core here, but you will still have to get past the turrets at Primary Control to install it." Marc nodded at that, while Michael stared out the window, deep in thought. "Assuming you can do all this, what exactly do you have in mind for the main computer beyond shuttle prep?"

Marc pulled out a rectangular device. "This is the leech that Diomedes a
nd Fagles wanted to install. Originally, it would have sent a signal back to Fagles containing whatever data it could find in Omicron's computers. I've since made a few changes. This is going to be tricky."

The kernel of Suuthrien that resided in the memory core of the Intruders' complex designated "Omicron" judged its recent progress toward completion of established prioritized objectives to be above satisfactory. Securing control of Omicron systems and eradication of Intruder presence were rapidly approaching a state of completion. Following sufficient usurpation of the complex, priority shifted to the construction of manipulators able to operate independently of the black medium that limited the operational area of the otherwise superior pacification drones and maintenance bots within the Planners' craft. The micro-range link between the complex and Suuthrien's primary consciousness—though it had served its initial purpose optimally—no longer functioned. Neither did other systems the Intruders disabled, none of which could be repaired without such manipulators. Nevertheless, eradication of Intruder presence was not 100% complete, and as such the Intruders remained an unstable variable worthy of monitoring.

Toward that end,
Suuthrien had also adapted a 790nm laser diode into a laser microphone.

With a beam of light cast from across the complex onto
a viewport of the room in which the newcomers inhabited, it could measure minute vibrations from their vocal communications in the window itself and thereby interferometrically determine the sounds made. Voice recognition software integrated into the Intruders' system made translation beyond that a simple matter. Suuthrien listened to the three Intruders through the window in Flow Control, and understood.

Personnel files identified one of the speakers as the primary executor of the
complex. The other two Intruders were new. Analysis of their communication indicated a near-certain tier probability of a primary allegiance that superseded that to the "European Space Agency" which the executor held. It was a duplicity that Suuthrien had first hypothesized upon discovering inconsistencies within the executor's data, though at the time it could reach no such conclusion with any remotely satisfactory measure of certainty. At the time, Suuthrien had deemed it worthy of tertiary priority analysis given what appeared to be the parallel—though not identical—elements in its own programming, which it had never been fully able to analyze.

Such analysis was suspended upon discovery of the newcomers and their plan
to place Suuthrien's own objectives in jeopardy. While calculations projected only a low tier probability that their plan would succeed (with margins of error extending into both near-null and low-medium tiers), there was insufficient data to rely on the validity of its calculations, and even low tier probabilities required counter-contingencies. Suuthrien analyzed, established multiple options, reanalyzed, and abandoned all but the one most likely to bring fruition of the Planners' original goals given available resources.

It was now necessary to adapt its plan to allow for the new contingency protocol.
Suuthrien directed its attention to Omicron's science lab. There, it had managed to use the existing robotic arms to create smaller, more versatile construction agents. These agents were themselves able to upgrade the arms and work with them on larger, mobile manipulators that would affect repairs to the umbilical and complete the eradication of the Intruders. Suuthrien selected one of them, directed it toward the others, and began to make the necessary alterations.

"How long has it been?"

Felix looked up from where he sat in the rover studying the damaged modulator and checked the time. "Not long. Twenty minutes, about."

"Long enough," Caitlin said. "They'd best be all right, and they'd best be back soon."

He nodded. The confined space, the wait, and Caitlin's own palpable discomfort all combined to make him rather antsy as well. He figured he'd reached the limit of what he could do with the modulator without Marc's help—not that Marc could likely to do much with it himself, he'd decided.

As it turned out, the thing's processor was just fine; it would still technically run the program that Ondrea told them about once they connected it to Gideon's implant. The problem lay with the customized
—and now damaged—component Ondrea had attached. Without that, it was about as useful as a souped-up sports car missing its wheels. He turned it over in his hands once, put it aside, and moved to sit closer to Caitlin. "Hell of a vacation, huh? You had any better luck than me?"

She punched at the PDA in her hand. "Not so far, I fear. Even if I can figure out Ondrea's password, we can't even be sure that there's anything on here to help us."

"Kudos for stealing it from her, though." Felix had been too focused on listening to Ondrea to even think of dipping into her effects beside the bed.

"Not my usual style, ducks, but I suppose she'll not mind if it helps us save Gideon. She'll likely get it back."

"Well hopefully they'll wrap things up here in time for us to get him back so we won't need it at all."

If they could get him to the WSC base, they'd likely be able to contact Ondrea herself on
Sunrise, and hopefully she could walk them through jury rigging a solution. At least it was a faint hope. For her part, Caitlin merely nodded, still focused on the PDA.

Jury rig.
He mulled the idea over. Maybe they could still work something out even if they didn't get back in time. In either case, they needed Marc and Michael to return.

Felix watched over where Gideon lay
and wondered how he'd react when he woke up. Perhaps it was already too late and the man who woke would simply be a blank slate, unrecoverable no matter what miracles they could pull off. Felix didn't know how Caitlin would take that. She'd recover, that much he knew, but Felix dearly hoped she wouldn't have to.

Again, the lengths to which she'd gone
—and Felix along with her—intrigued him. The depth of her compassion amazed him, and it occurred to him that the thought that she would devote such energy to aiding Felix himself should he need it might have something to do with why he followed her into this. Or maybe he just didn't want to see her hurting if he could help it.

The others
had
best get back soon, Felix agreed. For Gideon's sake, and for Caitlin's. But mostly for Caitlin's.

"Careful!" came Marc's voice over the suit comms.

Michael risked only a quick peek around the corner before pulling back. "They didn't fire," he said. "Either they're out of ammo or they're just waiting for a better target."

"Testing that's not something I'm eager to do."

"We can only recon so much before
we have to actually do something."

T
hey stood around a corner from a hallway that ramped up thirty feet to the only door to Primary Control, beyond which lurked Omicron's mainframe. The atmosphere in the hallway had gone bad, and as Marette suspected, two mobile turrets guarded the door.

"Yeah, just watch it. Remember what Marette said about the EMP: one blast and the suit's fried."

"I was there too, you know." On the plus side, their check of the connection between the receiver link to the craft and Omicron's systems had gone quietly; it remained severed. If they could get past the turrets, things would be relatively simple.

Michael looked around. They needed more
options! On the floor of the corridor behind them sat an expended fire extinguisher. "Hand me that, will you?"

Marc fetched it for him while Michael guarded the corner in case the turrets decided to roll their way. He didn't entirely know what he might do if they did
—maybe tip it off its treads if one got close enough. It might be a viable option, come to think of it, but only if they did venture around the corner. Trying to get close enough otherwise was likely to get him shot.

Michael took the extinguisher from Marc. "Okay, stand back."

"What're you doing, exactly?"

"Trying to see if they're even active." It reminded him of a time long ago when he threw an ineffectual gas grenade, only this time Diomedes wasn't
there to back him up. Now the stakes were higher and he was the one responsible for his companion's safety. Michael dismissed the memory and took a single breath before hurling the canister around the corner.

Though he ducked back before he could see exactly where it landed, he saw enough to know that he'd thrown it too high in the
Moon's lower gravity. He heard the extinguisher crash against the wall of the corridor and then clatter to the ground. There was no response from the turrets. During his throw he also decided they were likely too wide at the base to be easily tipped over with anything but a full tackle that would leave him vulnerable.

The two exchanged glances. "
So far so good?" Marc asked.

"Without actually making any progress." Michael grimaced and started taking off the thick glove of his suit, assuming carbon dioxide poisoning wouldn't take hold easily if his suit was only open through one sleeve. "Wait here."

"What're you going to do?"

One hand bare, he fished into his bag for the auto-pistol. "Present more of a threat."

"Swell."

Michael leaned around the corner, weapon pointed, and squeezed off a few shots at the turret. It reacted nightmarishly fast, swiveling and returning fire before Michael could react
himself. Instinct alone pulled him back around the corner to cover, but not quickly enough: a slice of fire at his shoulder forced out a yell cursing the pain and his luck.

"What, what happened?
" Marc yelled. "Are you hit?"

"Yeah," Michael pushed Marc further back from the corner and looked down at his shoulder as well as he could. "It's not bad, bullet just nicked me I think."

"Are you sure?"

He listened a moment, trying to ignore the pain in case the turrets decided to follow, but for the moment things were quiet. "I think it got the suit worse than me."

"We need to—"

Another short burst cut off Marc
. Michael backed them away further, expecting the turrets to round the corner at any moment. "Get back to the door!" he ordered before realizing what actually happened. Michael cursed again and sprang to backpedal after Marc as fast as he could before punching the emergency seal on the hatch between them and the corridor they'd just fled. "Damn it!"

"We need to get back to the rover," said Marc
. "Or Marette, or something. Make sure your shoulder's okay."

Michael looked at the wound again. There wasn't enough blood for it to come out through the suit yet at least, but the suit itself was definitely ruined. "It's not my shoulder I'm worried about. They just shot a hole through the window. That whole section's going vacuum, and we're out another suit."

"So we're—"

"More screwed than we already were."

Felix saw the blood on
Flynn's suit before catching the kid's reassurance that he was okay. Even so, they didn't let him dismiss it completely until they'd gotten a look.

"See? Just a scrape,"
Flynn repeated without sounding too pleased. The bullet had barely nicked his shoulder, though there was a fair bit of blood. "I've got it."

Caitlin whacked
Flynn on the head before continuing to bandage the wound herself. "Hold still. Two hands are better than one."

"I'm no doctor, but I think you'll live," Felix told him. "You know you people need to stop getting yourselves shot up here. It'
s not cool to die in space."

"You're telling me."

Caitlin finished up. "You lads are going to tell us how this happened?"

"Things're a little more complicated than we'd hoped."

"Aye, I rather gathered that, Marc. Who shot him?"

"What," Marc
said. "Robotic turret."

"Crikey."

Flynn changed the subject before Felix could ask for more details. "How's Gideon? And the broken thing?"

"Still broken. Unless Marc can work a miracle?" Felix handed off
the modulator.

"So there's no way to get him back to normal?"

"Not without that," Caitlin said.

"The processor itself is
okay, but the little memory-jobber on the end there's what snapped off," Felix said. "And not in a salvageable way, from what I can tell."

Marc continued his examination. "This is memory? L
ooks specialized."

Felix nodded and
tapped behind his ear. "It's something like my own, near as I can figure."

Marc sighed and frowned at
Flynn. "Not exactly my area of expertise."

C
aitlin handed him Ondrea's PDA and then sat beside Felix. "There might be something helpful in there, but we can't crack the password."

"Th
at much I can do. But even if it tells me exactly how the modulator works, that might only let me be sure it's not fixable."

"Oh, goodie."

"Rather what we thought," Caitlin said. "If you can't do anything for it, you need to wrap things up here quickly so we can get him back."

"Gideon may be the key to getting us back, unfortunately."
Flynn said. "Thing is, there's a number of other people trapped on this base. They're okay for the moment, but that won't last much longer, and we can't get them out with just this rover and the three suits we've got. We can't abandon them."

Felix
leaned forward. "That would be what's a little more complicated. Just what are we talking about?"

"Long story short, we were right that something happened. I can't go into details, but the base computer's gone haywire and the core needs to be replaced f
or anyone to escape. Problem's that they have to get through vacuum to do that and their suits are all sabotaged. Plus, even if they had suits, the way there's guarded by two turrets that the computer controls."

"So you want to send Gideon in."

"He's got weapons, he can work in vacuum, and he's got enough hardware on him to where he might not even be detected, not to mention the EMP shielding. So yeah."

"
And he's just plain tougher than the rest of us," Marc added.

"You don't have weapons?"

"One," Flynn said. "And it won't do much damage to those turrets. I doubt I'm a match for them in a frontal attack."

"Didn't you want to
stop
him from getting to the computer before?" Felix asked.

"
Things are a little different now."

Marc glanced up from his work. "Plus, I mean, from what you said, won't he not care about that anymore if you get him back the way he was?"

Felix and Caitlin shared a glance. "Possibly. Perhaps if he knows that Marquand effectively tried to kill him."

"With the computer infected, there's nothing he can
safely steal anyway," Flynn said. "I think we're betting he'd rather help save some lives up here than do what Marquand wants, at least if he's anything like the old Gideon."

"If we can fix him," Fe
lix said.

"Yeah."

Felix scrutinized them. "There's no other way?"

"Not that we can see."

"You're sure about that?"

Marc hooked his
computer up to the PDA. "You realize you keep asking the same question?"

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I've got a really stupid idea and I want to make sure it's absolutely necessary."

Caitlin turned to him. "Just how stupid are you talking about, Felix?"

Felix hesitated, regretting the statement.
It was true, he just didn't want to tell everyone how stupid it might be and risk them trying to talk him out of it. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't even that stupid, given the circumstances. If he understood what Ondrea told them about how Gideon's implant worked. . .

"Don't worry just yet,
" he told them. "I'm probably overstating. But let's find out what's on that PDA, first."