Grunt Traitor (22 page)

“Your
moral compass
,” I repeated, not really knowing what to make of the comment.

“Your simple ideas of right and wrong, and that corporations and governments tend to manipulate the lives of its customers and citizens to their own ends, are absolutely correct. We think we know better. Often we manipulate ethics to the point that we redefine them. ‘Right’ becomes
acceptable
, or what we can afford. Some might see your candid comments as insubordination; I see them as reminders of what we should be doing.”

It was several seconds before I realized he’d stopped talking. Even so, I didn’t know what to say. I looked around the room and saw all eyes on me, so I felt I had to say something. “So your opinion is that GNA is a better option to partner with than the Cult of Mother because of their size and ability to defend themselves.”

“That about sums it up,” Mr. Pink said. “We’re making tough decisions all over the planet. We don’t always like who we’re working with, but it becomes a necessity sometimes.”

“Breaking a few eggs,” I said.

Mr. Pink nodded and smiled.

“I understand that’s where you’ve positioned HMID Thompson. Do you think it’s smart, leaving them outside of your control?”

His smile fell. “I see HMID Aquinas has been talking a little too much.”

I wasn’t surprised he knew about my ability to communicate with the HMIDs. For all I knew, he’d planned it all along. I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

“I figured that out on my own. He’s always been able to use theta waves.” I gave him a stern look and a shake of my head. “And to think you told me he was killed in Africa.”

He waved my comment away. “How does the communication work, between you and the HMIDs?”

“Peachy,” I said. “Maybe ask Ethridge and he can give you a better explanation.”

“We already have, but since you knew the HMIDs prior to transformation, I thought you might have some insight.”

“You don’t want to hear my insight. Speaking of HMID Aquinas, you told me I could see her upon mission completion.”

I saw Malrimple glancing our way out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t turn my head. Instead I held Mr. Pink’s gaze.

“Now wouldn’t be a good time,” he said evenly.

I concentrated and called Michelle the same way I had yesterday, but nothing happened. I tried again, closing my eyes and pouring every ounce of concentration I had into her. Nothing.

I opened my eyes. “What happened?”

Mr. Pink turned to Malrimple.

The scientist sighed. “She tried to take herself offline last night.”

I’d noted that she’d been silent. I just figured she’d been on assignment or something. “What’s that mean,
take herself offline
?”

“She’s...” Malrimple glanced at Mr. Pink, who nodded. “She’s injured herself.”

I was stunned. She’d tried to commit suicide? One would think that in her new form, that wasn’t possible, but she’d always showed the tendency. That’s why she’d joined OMBRA. She’d thought it would be suicide by soldiering.

“Is she going to be all right?” I asked, controlling the emotion in my voice.

“We should have her rebooted and working within twenty-four hours,” Malrimple said.

I stared at him, wanting nothing more than to wipe the condescending look off his face, retribution for his bald-faced dehumanizing of Michelle.

Mr. Pink must have noticed, because he put his hand on Malrimple’s shoulder and turned him towards the door. To me he said, “I believe you have a medical appointment tomorrow morning, but in the afternoon we have a critical mission brief.”

“I’ll be there,” I said without taking my cold gaze off Malrimple’s back.

We make mistakes, we have our faults, and God knows some of us have more than our share, but when danger threatens and duty calls, we go smiling to our own funeral.

James Larkin

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I
SPENT THE
rest of the day in my hooch. I’d made my plans. All I needed was to wait until nightfall. Occasionally I’d try and contact Michelle, but there was no reply. Olivares came and went. He tried to engage me in conversation, but when it became clear I didn’t want to talk, he grabbed his things and left.

At dinner, I found a table and sat alone.

Ohirra came by, but I remained remote.

What I was about to do was permanent; something I couldn’t come back from. I knew that if I told Olivares or Ohirra, two things would happen. First, they’d try and talk me out of it, providing solid arguments why I shouldn’t do it. I’d listen, then tell them I was going through with it anyway. Then, after a fair bit of complaining and name calling, they’d join me. And I didn’t want to put them in the jeopardy I was putting myself.

Ohirra knew I was planning something; before she left she whispered, “Be careful.”

I didn’t respond, nor did she expect me to. She took her tray to another table and was soon deep in conversation.

I finished my meal, dropped off my tray, then headed to the post library. It was crowded with lower enlisted, using the monitors and televisions to play the library’s collection of DVDs. I found an empty chair and sat down, staring blankly at a disc of the sit-com
Friends
. I sat through five episodes, remembering where I was and who I’d been with when it had still been on television. The catchy intro tune was something we’d all danced to, waiting for the clapping parts. I allowed myself to take a short journey down the road of sentimentality as I wondered what Michelle and I could have had if we’d met all those years ago, before the alien invasion. Would we have become a couple, or would we have crashed and burned like so many?

At ten I rose and left the library. I found South Loop Road and headed south on it until I got to Inner Loop Road, which angled away from all the major activity to a cluster of buildings. I couldn’t follow the road, so I continued another three hundred or so meters down South Loop, then angled into the brush. The desert terrain here was flat with the occasional scrub brush, and I kept my profile low as I moved.

I had the light of a quarter moon to guide me. I knew the field wouldn’t be mined, but I wasn’t sure if security was using ground surveillance radar. I kept my eyes out for the telltale signs, but there were too many shadows to be certain, so I crossed my fingers and continued until I got to the building’s parking lot.

The building itself was in the shape of a large H. The side nearest the parking lot had windows; the other side, without, was where the most generators were allocated. The parking lot was lit by several portable light generators. Their sound would cover any sound I’d make.

I started to make my way into the parking lot when the side door to the building opened and two men came out. I ducked behind an old military Chevy Blazer and watched with increasing worry as they headed in my direction. Had I just chosen their car, out of two dozen, to hide behind?

But they stopped two cars down and got into a Dodge pickup. I waited until they backed out and drove away before I stood and quickly walked to the side of the building. Now I’d see how well security was working. I skirted the edge of the building, then sprinted across the middle space to the other side of the H. Once there, I went to the other end of the building until I could see the generator field.

Each generator had been sunk into a pit, leaving three quarters of the generator hidden, which also served as a sound dampener. I chose three generators, then quickly sabotaged them. I pulled a lead free from one, adjusted the fuel filter to starve another of air, and turned the third off completely. As they began to die, I ran to the side of the building, to a spot that would be hidden when the door opened.

With three generators offline, a response didn’t take long. A man in a lab coat exited the building with a harried look on his face. He never saw me as I slid into the building. Now inside, I was greeted with white institutional walls. I was almost disappointed that there was no sign announcing that this was HMID headquarters. I reminded myself that this was one of three places that could be the home of the HMIDs, and it was only on a hunch that I chose this one. My hunch could be taking me to entirely the wrong place.

I heard footsteps and tried the nearest door. It was locked, so I tried the one next to it—thankfully unlocked—and quickly ducked inside. No lights were on, but I could smell cleaning chemicals. How clichéd! I was hiding in a supply closet.

I pressed my ear to the door and heard the footsteps go past. I counted to thirty, then opened the door to an empty hallway. From the hollow of my back, I drew my Sig Sauer P226 and held it at high ready. I went down a short hall, then peeked around a corner. Seeing it empty, I slipped down the hallway, keeping my back to the wall. Halfway down, a door opened right in front of me and out stepped Malrimple. We locked eyes right away. I saw his eyes go wide. When he opened his mouth to call out, I shoved the barrel of my pistol into his cheek, pressing the skin hard against his teeth.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.”

I could see the terror in his face. Part of me hated myself for relishing it.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” Malrimple whispered.

“I have no intention of getting away with this. Now take me to Michelle.”

He stared at me, fear locking his legs.

“HMID Aquinas.” I pushed the barrel harder against his skin. “Take me to her.
Now!
”

He turned to head down the hall.

I grabbed the back of his collar. “Don’t fuck around. I don’t like anything about you and wouldn’t mind putting a round into your smug face.”

He stiffened, then nodded.

I put the barrel of the pistol to the back of his neck and let him lead me down one hallway, then another.

A woman in uniform came out of an office holding a clipboard. She was looking down and might not have seen us, but when Malrimple stopped, she glanced over. She brought her clipboard to her chest and stared at me, trying to gauge what I was doing and what she should do.

I helped her out. “Go back into your office. If you think you need to call someone, then go ahead.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“See my girlfriend,” I said plainly.

Her eyes widened a moment, then she nodded and returned to her office. She closed the door and I heard the latch click into place.

We continued down the hall and came to a door with a keypad lock.

Malrimple hesitated.

“Punch it in,” I said.

“This isn’t the best time,” he began.

“It’s never going to be the best time. Now open the fucking door.”

He sighed and keyed in an eight-digit number. The door clicked open and we pushed into an immense room. I recognized the black box immediately. But there wasn’t just one—there were three of them. One stood at the end of the rectangular room, with the other two on either wall. Each had multiple cables exiting it. Some of the cables went through the wall to the generators outside, while others went to a row of computer servers squatting in racks against the walls. Here and there were tables with computer monitors and keyboards. At each one sat a worker. Another man in a lab coat stood at the servers, pressing lit buttons.

It took only a moment for me to take in all this, then my attention focused not on the visuals, but on the screams coming from the speakers. Michelle’s voice.

“
Let me go. Please fucking let me go!
” she cried.

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded as she launched into another scream. But the moment I spoke, she fell silent.

The others in the room turned at my voice and upon seeing my gun, reacted. Most them stood and backed against a wall, but the man at the server pulled a pistol from his side.

“Drop the weapon, soldier,” he said.

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Doctor Malrimple, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Doctor Cole. This is Lieutenant Mason. He wants to see HMID Aquinas.”

Doctor Cole stared at me but didn’t lower his pistol.

“You were with Norman.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about for a moment, then it clicked. Doctor Norman Dupree. I nodded. “I was there.”

“How did he die?”

“Saving the rest of us,” I said, realizing as I said it that it was absolutely true. “He died getting samples from the alien vine.”

“You were there?”

“I was.”

“You left him there?”

I licked my lips and nodded. “We had to. Listen, everything is going to be all right here.” My eyes were mainly on the pistol, but I glanced at his face and could see him working through what he should do.

“You know they’re going to arrest you,” he said.

“I know.”

Through the speakers came the words, “
You never should have come here, Ben.
”