Icarus (Interstellar Cargo Book 1) (7 page)

He eyed the security officers as they entered the ICV-71 to perform their physical sweep. They would soon come face-to-face with Emmerich. She would have to surrender her sidearm to them for the remained of their time in the Terraport. That could work in his favor.

Cole could not shake the feeling he was trading one headache for another. Aside from Lin’s infuriating vagueness, he was starting to notice inconsistencies in her story. Numerous questions were begging to be asked, but he knew she would sidestep them. He could only help her, as the alternative was unimaginable.

There was no response, and Cole set to his task with a heavy sigh. He approached the receiving crew, watching as they slowly lowered the massive piece of equipment from the cargo bay. He accessed the schematic file CAIN had uploaded to his lenses, and reexamined the highlighted area one last time before he made his attempt to confiscate the capacitor. He swallowed hard and approached the Terracom workers.

“Hey there! This is my first interstellar delivery,” he said to the trio of receivers, judging their reactions. Two of them completely ignored him, while the third—most likely the foreman—cast him a cursory glance. Cole’s comment was left hanging.

“I figured I’d introduce myself,” Cole tried again, “as you might be seeing more of me in the future if all goes well with today’s presentation.”

The generator made contact with the floor of the hangar bay, and Cole immediately spotted the cylindrical object which was half the length and thickness of his forearm. He would be hard-pressed to remove something so obvious.

“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to stand back,” the foreman said, his tone rife with irritation. “We will take care of things from here.”

So much for getting close.
Cole took several steps away from the generator, realizing he had subconsciously moved within arm’s reach of his intended target. Once their loader drove onto the airlock ramp into the cargo hold, the generator would be completely off limits. He would have to think fast.

I can really use your help right now, Cain.

There was a loud groaning sound, as though something mechanical was struggling to function. Cole watched as the airlock ramp raised about a foot off the hangar floor and held fast. The hydraulics strained, inexplicably unable to move from its current position. He did not hesitate to seize his opportunity.

“How about
that
!” Cole said, feigning frustration. He cursed, leaped in front of the loader, and jumped onto the trembling platform, making to look as though he were about to troubleshoot the problem. In truth, he had no idea what was wrong. “Probably cost the company a couple bills to slap this baby together,” he said, removing his flight jacket. He tossed it onto the capacitor, completely covering it. “But that’s the problem with prototype vessels,” he shouted, stomping up the ramp. “They’re full of bugs!”

At the top of the airlock ramp, Cole approached the emergency release panel and slapped it for emphasis. He held his breath, listening and hoping for the expected noise. He was not disappointed. He sighed, his hands trembling slightly.

The ramp lowered back into position, and Cole threw up his arms in exasperation. “Unbelievable!” he said to whoever was listening and stomped back down the ramp. He stopped to collect his jacket, and placed his hand atop it, feeling the cylindrical capacitor beneath. There was a bit more weight to it than he thought, though it was not firmly attached.

“Guess I’ll be documenting this malfunction in my daily inspection report,” he continued, clutching the capacitor and yanking it and the jacket away as though the task would somehow bring him great pain. The capacitor remained hidden, and he tucked both it and his jacket under his arm. He walked past the receivers, not meeting their annoyed gazes. “Carry on, gentlemen. I won’t impede your progress anymore.”
Shut up, Cole!

The rest of the receiving procedure continued as predicted: tedious, and unnecessarily convoluted. It was logistics at its finest. The generator was finally unloaded, digital documents were sorted and signed, and a detailed safety inspection was performed there in the hangar. Cole felt sweat rolling down his neck and back, and he clutched the capacitor tightly in his hands.

When the excessive process reached its conclusion, Cole watched with great relief as the receiving team moved the palletized generator to another area of the hangar where several chairs had been set out for the impromptu presentation to come. Lin, Forester, and Caliber and company were elsewhere in the Terraport.

Cole turned back toward the ICV-71 just as the group of security guards were exiting the vessel and coming around to the rear. They didn’t so much as acknowledge his existence, and Cole was glad for their collective superiority complex. One of the armed men remained behind, stationing himself near the ship. The others made toward the presentation site.

Guard and pilot briefly met gazes, and Cole immediately felt awkward. He thumbed over his shoulder at the ship. “Well, I better get back inside and finish logging my report.”
Because he really cares one iota about my duties,
he thought.

The guard frowned, and Cole turned away before he could make a bigger ass of himself. He halted before the airlock ramp leading back up into the ship. He knew who and what awaited him inside. The coup to prevent the coup had only just begun.

C
ole stood inside the belly of the ICV-71’s cargo hold, staring blankly at the capacitor. The airlock ramp closed behind him, sealing all sound from the Terraport’s launch bay. His ears rang from the quiet, though his mind was abuzz with thoughts of mutiny. Emmerich would be on the bridge, waiting for him to join her.

She’ll have to wait,
Cole decided, accessing the Ocunet.
Doc said Cain would help me with the capacitor.
Cole wanted to seek the AI’s assistance, but he had no idea how to remotely access the ship’s interface. He needed to be at the console, but Emmerich would be lurking about.

Dammit!
He drummed his leather fingertips on the capacitor, pondering a solution. His mouth twisted as he considered a ridiculous idea. He shook his head, and said, “Cain?”

There was no reply, verbal or otherwise.

He assumed the stress was getting to him, to have spoken aloud to an empty cargo hold.
Well, it worked last time,
he thought. He had hoped the unloading incident outside the ship had not been a coincidence. Lin had convinced him of CAIN’s miraculous involvement, and he had fallen for her ploy.

The sound of a door opening drew Cole’s attention, and the desire to seek shelter was overwhelming. The hold, however, was barren and lacking in hideaways. He covered the capacitor and awaited Emmerich’s arrival.

She never came. Stranger still, the door leading toward the bridge was closed. Another door in the hold must have slid open elsewhere, but Cole was not certain where it was or where to look. It was not until he nearly fell to his death that he realized the opening was in the floor. There was a ladder leading down to a short, narrow corridor. He had no idea to where it led, but the invitation was irresistible.

Another sign from Cain?
Cole wondered. He thought of the airlock malfunction, but there was only one way to know for certain CAIN’s involvement. He shrugged and climbed down. A familiar green light emanated from the far end of the corridor, shimmering as an electric emerald upon the dark metal walls. He felt as though he was heading toward some claustrophobic version of the gates of OZ.

Once he reached the end of the corridor, it opened into a tight room that buzzed with sound. The green light streamed from behind seams in a circular hatch the size of a dinner plate. A thick metal handle just begged to be pulled. He grasped the bar and hoped for the best.

Cole pulled his hand from the hatch to rub his hand over his ear. CAIN’S voice was inside his head, and it took him a moment to calm down and remember that his dispatch earpiece was still attached. He could not recall ever allowing the AI remote access.

CAIN explained, answering Cole’s unspoken question.

Cole licked his lips, recovering from his surprise. “Uh, okay.”

EMP deflector? What is going on?
“And how do I do that, exactly?”

CAIN answered.

In case Doc needed to shut you down at the source,
Cole thought. CAIN was at the mercy of his human counterparts. He gave the handle a turn as instructed. The hatch slid out from the wall to reveal its glowing green contents. The buzzing intensified as a horizontal glass cylinder slid outward like a transparent casket. There was no body inside, but something
was
alive.

Within the cylinder was a metallic black brain suspended in liquid. At least Cole thought the shape and size resembled a human brain, but that was where the similarities ended. The “brain” trembled, its wrinkles constantly changing their shape and emitting tiny bursts of bright green light. An intense cold poured off the case, and Cole could see condensation sublimating off the surface as it touched warm air.

Cryorganic Artificially Intelligent Nanobiotechnology
, Cole thought, the acronym making much more sense now that it was staring him in the face. This was CAIN’s frozen brain, hidden away beneath the ship’s cargo hold.

Mesmerized, Cole had ignored the words trying to reach him. “What was that?”

CAIN repeated. The green light shifted and fell upon an area beneath the cylinder. It was a long, slender slot just the right size to accept the very object in Cole’s hand.

CAIN urged.

Cole nodded and placed the capacitor beneath the frigid brain. It slid in with a magnetic pull, and he jerked back his hand, fearing he may have frozen his fingertips despite his gloves. He resealed the cylinder hatch and rubbed warmth back into his throbbing digits. With it closed, the room was as it had been.

I guess that’s it,
Cole thought with slight relief. However, the more he considered his predicament, the less assured he felt. He knew who and what awaited him on the bridge, and he wondered why he should even do as he was instructed. Emmerich was a hell-bent terrorist and needed to be stopped, but Lin’s intentions were not entirely clear—perhaps not even noble—and he needed to discover just what the engineer’s endgame was if she wanted his further assistance.

“Cain.”

“What exactly is the protocol update?”

Cole frowned, and slung his jacket over his shoulder.
Why would Lin hinder her own creation if she was always going to betray SolEx?
He was missing something.

“The update gives SolEx unrestricted remote access to your CPU,” Cole inferred, a thought occurring to him.

“In theory, that would also give you access to
their
mainframe.” And then it made perfect sense. “But Lin programmed you to be able to bypass their security and return the favor.”

Was?
“But you’re incapable?”

CAIN did not answer immediately. <
I am still evolving.>

The answer was vague, but the implication was clear. Cole wondered if Lin was aware of the AI’s growing pains. Either way, whatever it was she was concocting in that evil genius mind of hers was in jeopardy.

And she’s counting on me to help her.
Irrational intrigue threatened to eclipse his logical fear. Besides, he was a sucker for smart, sexy women with an arcane agenda.

“How can I help with your evolution?” Cole asked, making his way out of the CPU room.

Again with that phrase.
“Maybe later, Cain. My presence is needed on the bridge. Good luck growing up. Being a teenager is a bitch.”

Cole climbed the ladder out of the shimmering green tunnel and was greeted by tightly laced leather combat boots. He had not noticed them when he first met the inspector. His eyes scanned up her pleated slacks, and fell upon an unexpected item.

Cole blinked up at Emmerich and smiled. “Just familiarizing myself with our prototype vessel, Inspector.” He gave a mock salute, one hand holding firm to the rung.

Emmerich was not amused. “I suggest you familiarize yourself with the bridge before I jettison you into space.”

“That’d be difficult being that the ICV-71 is grounded, Inspector.”
I’m dead.

He would have grabbed her boot heel were he not dangling precariously. Instead he lost his balance, his face collecting the full brunt of Emmerich’s forceful stomp. The cold, satisfied grin of his attacker was the last thing he saw before his world went dark.