Eternity's End (39 page)

They were no longer alone in the network; others were moving through the datastores on business of their own. None took note of them, and Deutsch did his best to veer quietly away from any that drew too close. He scanned the branch indices:
... maintenance, personnel, planning, production, shipping
... But what about the ones they really wanted, such as
armament, fleet operations, chains of command...?

But
were
those the ones he really wanted?

Move on, move on. Somewhere in here, he felt sure, he would find better information, maybe even a thread leading to the rumored Kyber underground...

Legroeder struggled to cope with the massive flow of information.

// We are sorting... categorizing... setting priorities... //

Yes, but what about his own control? They were flying past vast tracts of information, and he was caught between the risk of detection and the danger of missing data useful to the Narseil.

Deutsch seemed to be steering them upward through the layers, moving through one library after another. Legroeder felt a sudden fear that Deutsch was leading him straight into the hands of the enemy, or at least taking him in so deep he could never hope to get out by himself.

As if sensing his unease, Deutsch spoke, softly.
(Are you getting a look here? Some of this might be worth a scan.)

Legroeder moved in for a closer inspection. Deutsch had found stacks of archived planning sessions; Legroeder paused for a microsecond, perusing them.
(Look at all this talk about expanding the settlement.)
He thumbed and riffled a moment.
(More like building a goddamn empire.)

(True enough... )

Legroeder zipped up a packet and sent it downlink to Cantha.

(Let's keep moving,)
said Deutsch.

The earlier image persisted: they were moving upward through the roots of the mountains, searching for sunlight. Shadowy shapes were all around, the repositories of data. But far above were splinters of light that suggested change. Maybe more than change, maybe access to the indices that would let Deutsch run his sweeps. Legroeder held his breath, trying to remain inconspicuous.

There was a sudden flash of light—and then a series of light beams fanning past. Before he could react, Legroeder felt a breathless rush, as though he'd taken a deep lungful of oxygen. He realized dizzily that he had just absorbed a burst of data; his augments were madly trying to interpret.

(Sweep working... we're getting somewhere now,)
Deutsch said.

More and more splinters of light were breaking through the ceiling. Deutsch's sweep was darting among them. But Legroeder's own implants were signaling for his attention: a sharp aroma of peppermint stung his senses until he allowed a window to open...

// Tracking a thread... multiple references to
Impris
found... //

(Impris?)
Legroeder echoed.
(Freem'n, wait—!)

Deutsch was a beat behind Legroeder in recognizing the reference. He turned in surprise.
(What's that about Impris?)
He caught the data streaming from Legroeder's implants.
(Yes, I see it now. How did I miss that?)

He quickly ran his sweeps up the splinter of light that Legroeder had found, and saw a thread that electrified him.
(Take a look at this, Legroeder! It's not just Impris. Do you remember asking me about a Kyber underground? Here it is! In the same stream!)

(Not really,)
said Legroeder.

(It's right here.)
This was perfect, Deutsch thought; it seemed too good to be true.

And usually, he realized an instant after he started up the thread, when something seemed too good to be true...

Kyber underground? And
Impris
in the same thread? Legroeder sent a flash summary back to Cantha and flew up the thread after Deutsch.

A fraction of a second later, it occurred to him that perhaps there could be more to this than met the eye. Why would a connection to these two things be linked? Was the underground concerned with
Impris
? Or was it a...

A new sound came up suddenly in the back of his head—a wiry, nervous sound like a buzz underwater. It came first from one direction, then another, and suddenly grew to a hollow gonging that filled the space all around them.
(What the hell is that?)

(It's an alarm,)
Deutsch answered.
(We may have tripped something. We'd better back off. Fast.)

Legroeder cursed and hurried after the ghostly, retreating Deutsch. He felt a sudden, terrible suspicion. Had Deutsch triggered the alarm on purpose? Was this all a setup?

Deutsch's voice echoed,
(If we don't get out of here, they'll be down on us in no time.)
Deutsch peered back at him.
(What's wrong?)

For a heartbeat, Legroeder was frozen with doubt and indecision. Could he trust Deutsch, or should he flee? But where could he—?

(Legroeder, MOVE!)

That snapped him out of it.
(Coming!)
Legroeder fired himself down the thread after Deutsch—his friend, yes?—trying to outrun the buzz of the alarm. Whatever his doubts or fears, they were in this together.

Endless picoseconds later, they were back in the smoky room where they had started, in the docking station's intelnet subsystem. It still smelled oily and metallic, but the bass rhythm was more subdued now, and overlying it was a kind of harmonica sound. A persistent and growing harmonica sound. It made Legroeder increasingly uneasy.
(Freem'n, did
we
do that? I've got a bad feeling—)

He shut up when he realized that Deutsch was already scanning all connections into and out of the smoke-filled room. Legroeder could see little rays of light shooting this way and that through the data-matrix, as Deutsch unleashed his inner search machines, trying to localize the alarm. Trying to stay out of Deutsch's way, Legroeder conferred with his implants.

// We have stored data to 13% of our capacity, which we are currently analyzing. We believe the sounds you have identified are indeed alarm transmissions, possibly with autonomic blocking attachments. There may be danger. We recommend attending to your personal safety.//

(Meaning what? Should I get out of the intelnet?)

// Quickly, if possible.//

Legroeder hissed his breath out into the sudden chill of the data-matrix. Deutsch sensed it and turned.
(What is it?)

(My implants are telling me to get the hell out. Is there a security squad on the way?)

Deutsch's voice seemed seared by a dark pain.
(I think there might be. I don't know that we can do anything about it. You'd better pull out and warn the others.)

Legroeder blinked hard.
(Okay,)
he whispered.

So close, he thought. So goddamned close. And now...

He pulled out of the intelnet.

"He's out!" called a Narseil voice.

Fre'geel strode across the room, his face half covered by a transparent breathing mask. "What have you found? There are alarms going off all over! Did that pirate set them off?"

Legroeder gulped air. He felt as if he'd just come out of a cocoon. "Not on purpose. Everything I got went out to Cantha. I got—I'm not sure what all, but—" He closed his eyes for a moment and saw a streaking flash of emerald: an enormous amount of data. But any of it useful?

"Should I tell Cantha to transmit?" Fre'geel demanded.

Breathless, Legroeder tried to think. It might be their last chance to get a message out to
H'zzarrelik
, and at that they would have to be very lucky. But if they did transmit, it would telegraph their presence and their intentions to the entire Kyber defense—if they weren't already known. That would not only endanger them, but would also betray the presence of
H'zzarrelik
, hiding out in the Flux.

"Should we transmit?"
Fre'geel asked, his voice suddenly iron. His hand, much larger than Legroeder remembered it, was reaching out as though to seize Legroeder by the throat. "Did we get information worth transmitting?"

Meaning, if they had, this was the time to make themselves expendable. But if not, their next best hope was...

Legroeder shook his head, his stomach knotting. "I don't think so. We were just on the verge.
Dammit
."

"The verge of what, Rigger?"

Legroeder peered anxiously up at the Narseil commander. "Just before we tripped the alarm, we'd found a thread connected to the Kyber underground. There were also references to
Impris
. It could have been a trap, I suppose—but why? Unless there really is an underground out there."

Fre'geel's expression stopped him. He was squinting in the odd sort of way only a Narseil could squint, working at a decision. An army of Kyber troops was about to descend on them. But if they sent what they had, or boarded the ship and tried to flee...

No. Legroeder didn't want to die for the sake of a bunch of planning commission reports. "I think there's still a chance we could get what we came for.
Impris
. Maybe contacts that could make a difference if..."
If
they could hook up with a Kyber underground. But as captives?

"Are you prepared to take on your role, then?" Fre'geel said with a sharp glance upward. Footsteps could be heard through the ceiling. Fast and hard.
"Rigger Legroeder—"

Legroeder could barely draw a breath; the thought filled him with dread. Yes, he said, then realized it hadn't come out. He cleared his throat. "Yes."

Fre'geel's gaze snapped around to check the positions of his people, then back to Legroeder. "Very well. Begin your role now. And Rigger Legroeder, I hardly need to say—"

"Yes."

"This radically alters the mission. I will do what I can to protect my people. But you must leave us to whatever happens. The next step is yours." The Narseil's gaze held him like a steel pin. "Deutsch. Will he help you?"

"I think so," Legroeder said softly. He picked up his headset and put it back on. "Dear God, I hope so." And with great deliberation he turned away from Fre'geel.

Fre'geel watched with terrible unease as Legroeder returned to the intelnet connection. He had just dropped an enormous responsibility on Legroeder's shoulders. Would the human botch the job and bring the entire mission to an end? Would the pirate rigger betray them all?

It was out of the Narseil's hands now.

Fre'geel turned, touching his com-implant. "Cantha," he said, calling to
Flechette
.

"Here," said Cantha.

"Inform the crew to prepare for boarding and capture. Do not resist. We have turned primary control of the mission over to Rigger Legroeder. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Cantha, and Fre'geel knew that in that simple word were many emotions that Cantha would not reveal. The officer had developed a great fondness for the human, and was well aware of the risks. "Will there be a transmission to
H'zzarrelik
?"

"No," said Fre'geel. "Store what you can in your augments. Erase the rest." Risk all that they had gained so far, in hopes of gaining more later.

"Understood," said Cantha.

Fre'geel broke the connection. The Kyber troops were in the corridors outside. His voice tightened involuntarily he called to his crew of commandos, "Lower your weapons and prepare to surrender!"

Fre'geel's voice echoed in Legroeder's thoughts even after he was immersed in the net.
The next step is yours
...

In the data-matrix, everything was so confused that he had trouble even finding Deutsch. Before, the station had been a tech shop stinking of oil and smoke; now there were jets of steam everywhere, and lights flashing behind the billowing clouds of mist.
(Freem'n!)
he called, need overcoming caution.

There was no direct answer from Deutsch, but he heard a
tap tap tap
somewhere on the other side of the dataspace, beyond the clouds of steam. He tried to move that way, and called out again, but there was still no answer from Deutsch.
Tap tap tap
.

(Freem'n?)

A blast of steam shot out in front of him, sending him staggering backward. He cursed, steadying himself. It felt so real, he almost forgot it was just a rush of data, probably a security-sweep protocol. He hesitated, crouching, then launched himself past the dissipating billow, searching for Deutsch.
(Freem'n, where are you?)

He passed by several darkened pillars. The whole chamber looked different now, and yet was recognizably the same. He came upon a collection of large steel drums, grimy and covered with illegible warning signs. God knew what was in them, or what they represented. He squinted and tried in vain to read one of the inscriptions. As he straightened and moved on, he suddenly saw Deutsch. The man was sitting on a crate, on the far side of the collection, leaning back against one of the drums.

Legroeder hurried to him.

Tap tap tap
.

The sound was coming from Deutsch. It was his metal arm, shorn of the garment that had covered it, twitching and vibrating as if trying to move, stuck in a half-extended position. At first Legroeder thought it was tapping against the drum; then he realized that it was the arm jerking against itself in some kind of internal jam.

(Freem'n, do you need help?)

Deutsch seemed to gaze directly at Legroeder, but showed no sign of recognition, or any awareness at all. His eyes glowed like tiny light bulbs behind dusty, dark-colored glass.

Jesus, Legroeder thought.

What the hell could have happened?

The implants stirred.
// Likelihood: he may be trapped in an electrocution-web matrix. Any attempt to free him could result in injury to him or to you.//

(I can't just leave him here. How will he get free?)