Inquisitor (9 page)

[But you did kill Xavier.]

“He was trying to kill me.”

[And now you’re on the run with the planet’s law enforcement out to kill you. Coincidence after coincidence.]

She’d been in sticky situations before, but this one was the most bizarre by far. She needed to find out who’d really killed Viktor and set Xavier onto her. The obvious candidate was Mercurial Logic Incorporated. After all was stripped away, Xavier was no more than a paid thug. Someone had to be pulling his strings, but whether it was his employer or someone else behind the scenes remained to be established.

They were going to keep coming after her unless she rescued Charlotte. Her gut told her the girl was key to what was happening—and she could be used as dirt on Mercurial or perhaps as a bargaining chip. But Angel didn’t know whether the door Charlotte opened would lead to answers, or more questions.

Chapter 6

Angel input the circuitous route Charlotte-Rose had given her, and the taxi hummed down the streets of the city. Occasionally, she had it stop, and opened and closed the door, resetting the meter, as if it had dropped someone off and picked up a new passenger. It was chewing through her credits, but not alarmingly so. She had no idea what she would be up against after she’d freed Charlotte-Rose, and that made her cautious.

Her simple search algorithm had turned up an unsolved case of an infant girl’s kidnapping a few years ago. A girl called Charlotte-Rose. There had been no clues, no ransom, and no body, and the case had grown cold quickly. If one of the corporations had kidnapped her and used her for experiments, there would be massive repercussions. Ones Mercurial Logic Incorporated would do just about anything to avoid.

[They won’t know you’re coming, and I’ve planned this to the tiniest detail. You’ll be all right, unless there’s a slip-up. But I’ve prepared for a certain number of contingencies as well.]

“A certain number,” said Angel. “How many is that? I can count about a hundred things that could go wrong, even before I reach you.”

[I’ve calculated there is a seventeen percent chance of interruption, and a three percent chance we’ll have to abort.]

“And what’s the chance I take a bullet?” Angel replied, half joking.

[Less than one percent.]

Angel slunk further down in the taxi’s spongy seat, even though she’d set the windows to maximum reflection and no one could possibly see inside. Nights never became too dark in the city, as energy was cheap and the corporations liked their citizens to be well illuminated, no doubt to make them feel safer and reduce any possible crime.

For the tenth time, she checked her weapons to take her mind off what she was about to do. As if the situation wasn’t complicated enough, she had to agree to rescue a child from inside the headquarters of one of the richest and most powerful corporations since the Desolation Wars.

And she was relying on that uncannily intelligent child to come up with the breakout plan.

Angel shook her head, biting her bottom lip.

Charlotte-Rose had told her that she knew the complex where she was being held intimately from the information her program had brought back to her. And because her program originated from inside the security surrounding the building, it had been able to pick up access codes and passwords to allow it virtually free rein. It was an assertion Angel found almost plausible, apart from the niggling sensation at the back of her mind that it was too easy. Hey, break me out of prison; and by the way, you don’t have to do anything. Just come in and pick me up, and we’ll be on our way.

Too easy by half.

She clenched her fists and breathed deeply, gazing out the window as trees and glowing lampposts flashed past.

“So, I don’t have to worry about getting you out?”

[No, it’s all planned. You’ll see, once you’re inside.]

“But you can’t, or won’t, tell me now.”

[Well… just in case… you know…]

“In case I’m captured? I see. Then your escape plan might become known.”

It sounded an awful lot like she was expendable. What had they done to the poor girl to make her think like this? Nothing good.

Angel knew a lot about isolation and oppression from her own childhood. Cold lonely nights locked away from the others: punishment for misbehaving. The real House siblings treating the adopted children like trash.

Charlotte-Rose’s plight struck a chord with her. It also brought to the surface some memories she’d tried hard to suppress. Her hand moved up to touch her photo through her jacket pocket.

“Charlotte-Rose, can you run through entry to the facility? I’ll need to know where I’m going and what I’m doing, at least.”

There was a pause, as if Charlotte-Rose were considering denying her request.

[Very well. And please, call me Charlotte.]

Thank you
, thought Angel. “Will do.”

[The taxi will drop you off at the employees’ entrance at the back. At this time of night, no one’s around. I’ll open the door for you—]

“Won’t that trigger an alarm?” interrupted Angel. “A door opening when it’s not supposed to.”

[No, I can override low-level security. It’s only when you get deeper into the complex that I’ll need your help. Can I continue?]

Touchy
. “You may.”

[Once inside, you’ll hide in one of the automated floor cleaners. I’ll reprogram it to head down through the outer security levels, and you’ll get out and make your way through another security door, which will give you access to my level.]

“Easy.”
Too easy by half
.

[It should be, if all goes well.]

“Then, let’s hope it does.”

Angel’s weight shifted as the taxi took a sharp left turn, her right shoulder pressing into the padding.

[You’re almost here.]

Excitement tinged Charlotte’s voice, and Angel smiled. Whatever the eventual fate of this strange girl, at least she’d be free to make her own way. No court on any of the planets would allow a corporation to lock her up again for whatever experiments they were conducting. This would mean the downfall of Mercurial Logic. If they’d had a hand in Viktor’s death and sending Xavier after her, as seemed likely, that’d be another nail in their coffin. She needed to expose Mercurial and get revenge for Viktor’s death. Helping Charlotte wasn’t the only reason she was here.

The taxi slowed to a stop, and the door opened.

Angel exited and stretched her aching legs. In front of her was a solid metal door with no handles. On the right, a keyboard with a flashing green light winked at her.

There was a click, the door opened outward, and for a brief moment panic washed through her.
If this is a trap…
Before she knew it, her hand-cannon was aimed at the opening.

Air blew against her from the higher pressure inside, and she blinked at the bright lights illuminating the corridor beyond. Angel breathed a sigh of relief and holstered her weapon.

The taxi drove silently away, and she stepped through the doorway.

[Third door on the left. It’s forty-three meters ahead.]

Angel nodded, assuming Charlotte or her program was watching her through the building’s security cameras. Once the outside door had opened and no alarms sounded, Angel felt slightly more reassured Charlotte knew what she was doing; and that meant she should be able to help Angel clear her name.

“You’re scrubbing the camera recordings?”

[Of course.]

Angel slipped through the door and into a room, which had to be the main scrub-bot warehouse. Rows of sparkling machines sat unmoving in ruler-straight lines, from small brush-covered automatons designed for air-conditioning ducts to the larger floor cleaners.

As Angel paused, one of the floor polishers hummed to life and broke ranks. A yellow warning light began flashing on its roof, and it rolled over to her.

“Can you turn that off?”

[It would look unusual. It’s for safety.]

Grunting, Angel pulled the handle on the side, and a hatch slid open. Inside was a space just big enough for her to fit if she squeezed into a ball.

[I know it’ll be uncomfortable, but it’ll only be for a short time. I promise.]

Angel scrunched into the hole, nose pressing against her knees. She could smell the sweat and dirt on her trousers. It wasn’t long before the air inside became fuggy as the automaton wound its way to wherever it was going.

Why was she doing this on the say-so of a young girl she’d never met? Should she just leave and return when she had more information? But Charlotte had made it clear it was now or never, that all the variables in her plan had favorable probabilities at this particular time.

And she needed to do something to damage Mercurial. For Viktor.

At least no one would be looking for Inquisitor Xia of the House of Liwei in the bowels of Mercurial Logic, inside a bloody scrub-bot.

Her cleaner bumped to a stop.

[We’re here.]

Angel kicked the hatch open, and blissfully fresh air wafted over her. She untangled herself and groaned as she climbed out of her hole.

“There’s only one of us here, Charlotte.”

[I’m with you in spirit. And when we get out of here, I’ll owe you more than I’ll ever be able to repay.]

“Just live a good life.”

[I’ll… live.]

“And stay out of trouble.”

[I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee it.]

“That’s all any of us can do.”

The cleaner beeped, and the yellow light flashed as it moved on, leaving Angel looking around, checking to see if anyone had seen her exit. The place was as quiet as a tomb and just as cold. She shivered and rubbed her arms. She must be close to the building’s main computer servers for it to be so chilly, as they’d be kept at close to freezing.

Two wall panels stood out from the usual gray plascrete, their metal polished to a mirror brightness.

“This is the door?”

[Yes.]

Angel frowned at the brief response. The wall panels were unmarked by any lock she could see, and to either side there was no keyboard or keypad, nor a scanner. Then she twigged.

“I’ll need to blast my way through.”

[Ah… yes. If that’s all right with you?]

“It’s a bit late to pull out now. What’s the door made from?”

[Steel, cobalt, and… uranium.]

Angel licked her lips. “That’ll take some getting through, and I’ll set off the alarms.”

[They’re taken care of, and if you’ll please step aside.]

A humming came from behind her as another floor-cleaning automaton rolled toward the door. It beeped.

[Inside.]

Angel opened the hatch to reveal a midnight black ball the size of her fist. Its surface was covered with dozens of flat hexagons. She recognized the unstable device from her antiterrorist training.

“Where did you get this? And how did you get it through security?”

[It’s from Mercurial’s own stores. It was a simple matter to erase its existence from the records and have it transported here.]

“Why would they—no, don’t tell me; I don’t want to know. Where’s the detonator?”

[You’ll have to shoot it.]

This just gets better and better
. “You’re not serious.”

[It’s all I could come up with. It’ll work.]

“It had better.”

Angel struggled to lift the heavy bomb out of the cleaner, only just managing to avoid dropping it on her foot. On the floor, it was easier to manage, and she rolled it against the door.

Glancing back at the ball, she followed the cleaner as it trundled down the corridor, then told Charlotte to have it stop when she was about fifty meters away from the door.

Drawing her hand-cannon, Angel rested it on top of the cleaner and switched her ammunition type to armor-piercing/incendiary. She flipped up the scope and trained the guidance laser on the black ball. Mini-processors collated the data from the laser, which fed back to her retinal display.

INCENDIARY TARGET. CONFIRM?

“Confirmed,” Angel said, and squeezed the trigger.

The ball erupted in a flare of white light, terrifying and pure and beautiful, cascading over the door and down the corridor. Angel’s retinal implants blinked to black to protect her sight, and she ducked behind the cleaner before the reaction could complete.

Something hit her with the force of a thousand hammers, crushing her to the floor. Everything went black.

•

Angel came to, body aching and head throbbing. She tasted iron in her mouth and could smell something burning. She opened her eyes and blinked to clear the whiteness. Was she blind? No, she was staring at the floor, which she was lying on. Her lips and chin felt damp, and she wiped away drool. There was a small puddle on the floor under her head.

[Angel! I’m sorry. You were only unconscious for a few seconds.]

“Gurgh,” Angel said, and rolled onto her back, sucking in cool lungfuls of air. She squeezed her hands into fists to stop them shaking.

[I don’t know what happened. The cleaner should have protected you from the blast.]

Angel felt like she could lie there for a good while, but an explosion of that size must have triggered alarms, and security would be on the way. It was a wonder they weren’t already swarming over the place… except Charlotte had said they’d been taken care of. How?

Reluctantly, she sat up and surveyed the corridor. She’d been thrown a good ten meters from the cleaner, which now looked ready for the scrap heap. Jagged gashes covered its thin metal skin, and she could see straight through to the other side. Wisps of smoke rose from smoldering plastic parts.

“They don’t make them like they used to.”

[Make what? The cleaner? Were earlier models more structurally sound?]

Angel said nothing. Despite her addled state after the explosion, Charlotte’s words still struck her as peculiar. For a child, she seemed… overly intelligent… gifted even. Perhaps that’s why she’d been kept hidden away, a child prodigy of a sort. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Later. Now, she needed to focus.

She gazed ahead past the ravaged cleaner to the polished metal doors—which were now missing. Bright metallic debris littered the floor: pieces of the doors with edges melted from the intense heat. The pile of fused-together chunks would take some removing.