Provenance I - Flee The Bonds (39 page)

He had no choice but to follow this route. The conical cap attached to the transducer was a bio-induction trigger. Any human proximity and Alex would evaporate in a radioactive fireball.

Steve now realised the dolphins held the correction algorithm. Alex was no longer essential to SIS’s plans. The fake dolphin they’d embedded in his chest was a lure to hook its twin. He glanced at Alex’s peaceful face; perhaps his alter ego had taken Penny’s.

Moving his thumb under the exploder, he took hold and glanced up at the chronometer. 05:41. Penny was out of time and if this was a collapsing circuit, so was he.

With his body leaning away, he yanked out his hand.

Breath blew through dry lips as he straightened up and opened his palm. Light highlighted the chiselled edges of needle-like fingertips embossed onto the flat metal cylinder.

He retrieved his MCD, set the cylinder on the screen, and waited for the bleep. With deactivation complete, Steve stuffed the exploder in his pocket. He intended to return it to SIS. ‘Tower up! Bring in the RMD.’

Once the RMD had microwaved the transducer, Steve interfaced with Alex and set the acoustic encoded password. ‘Janus.’ The gateway program upload took ten seconds.

He disconnected the MCD, reinitialised Alex and held out his hand. ‘You can have your tooth back now. I’ve loaded a gateway program into your core. It needs to be installed in Core Command’s central processor.’

‘I don’t have access to that pathway.’

‘You will. I’ll tell you when it’s open.’

Alex sat up and looked down at the open gastromy. His head jerked up. ‘What else have you done to me?’

‘Saved you from yourself, now Penny needs decontaminating.’

Alex’s disconcerted gaze fell back to his stomach.

‘
Now
, Alex.’

Steve’s prickly tone had the desired effect and in less than five minutes, a sedated Penny lay on the gurney.

Pain lines creased her face as she went under. Steve gave her clammy hand a gentle squeeze. ‘It won’t be long now, then no more headaches.’ Her eyes fluttered shut and her grip relaxed. ‘Okay, Alex, let’s go.’

Steve stepped back. The RMD positioned itself at the head of the bed. Its corrugated arms extended and fitted an opaque dome over Penny’s matted hair.

Alex stared up at the monitors. ‘Begin accumulation, flux twelve, induction thirty.’

Behind the glass, Dobriana stared at her console, ‘Flux twelve, induction thirty.’

The dome glowed, emitting pulses of hazy purple. Nanobytes contained indium molecules, just enough to be attracted to the hollow magnetic needle piercing Penny’s skull.

Alex leant in, and touched the second monitor. ‘Watch the field amplitude, it’s fluctuating.’

‘Stabilised, sir.’

Steve raised his vibrating MPS. ‘Francois.’

‘Where are you?’

‘MEDLAB fifteen central.’

‘Why are you there?’ Francois sounded edgy.

‘Dee needed attention. Are you on the bridge deck?’

‘No, I am in armoury seventeen on deck six, black Prefects have attacked. I need your help — your Cogent.’

Pessimism weighed on Steve’s shoulders; they only had two modified Cogents. ‘I’m on my way.’ He looked at Dee, ‘Wait for me here. SIS will be ripping the ship apart looking for Alex. Make sure everyone’s off net.’

‘Whatta you gonna do?’

‘SIS have rumbled Francois, so I’ll have to go with him and try and shut down the Prefects.’ He nodded at Kacee. ‘Keep an eye on her, she’s a TYPE.’

Kacee held her buckled arm across her blood-flecked chest, although Steve doubted the pained expression related to that. ‘I’m not SIS.’ Her dejected eyes rose to meet his, ‘Fran—’

Steve cut her off. ‘Explain it to Penny.’

06:14 SUN 05:11:2119

Corridor 06-18-06, Provenance, LEO

Steve followed an AH through the silent ranks of protector suits lining the curved corridor.

He found Francois crouched in the recess of a deck-car doorway. Armoury 17 waited around the corner.

Francois stood up. ‘I am happy that you are here, SIS have killed many.’

Steve’s eyes narrowed on the sweeping corridor. ‘They didn’t follow you out here?’

‘Not yet.’

Steve scanned left and right. ‘I don’t see any Advocates.’

‘They are the reserve; they wait in the arrival hall.’

‘I think they’d be more useful here, and less exposed.’

Francois nodded. ‘I agree. I will send someone.’

‘No.’ Steve flicked his head back, ‘Nik can bring them up.’

Francois’s expression fluctuated. As did his tone. ‘You have given to him the message?’

Nik stepped up. ‘Yep.’

Steve ignored Francois’s odd behaviour and turned to Nik, ‘Send one Quad to MEDLAB 06-21-15 to escort Dee and the others to Alex’s quarters. Send two to secure the drives, place one in rearguard, and bring the rest here. If anyone kicks up, call Admiral Smithson at INC. He’ll countermand any of Choo’s orders.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Wait.’ Francois pointed at Nik’s holster. ‘Give me your Cogent.’

Steve sidestepped and blocked Francois’s view of Nik. ‘That isn’t yours to take.’

Francois reached up and placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder plate, ‘Our priority is to take control of Core Command and disable the black Prefects.’ He lowered his voice, ‘
And
I am Alpha One.’

Steve compressed his lips and stepped aside. ‘Sorry, Nik, can you swap Cogents with Commander Thibeauchet.’ He had little choice, without Francois’s support he’d never reach the bridge. Besides, Francois would return it soon enough.

Taking the lead, Steve edged along the curving corridor to Armoury 17’s moulded white doors. He raised his hand and glanced over his shoulder at Francois. ‘Wait here.’

The doors hissed apart, releasing a necrotic taint of metallic blood and molten plastic into the sterile corridor. Gripping his Cogent with both hands, Steve slipped around the edge of the doorway and swept his extended arms across the flickering expanse.

All the way to the distant row of deck-car doors, bodies and parts thereof littered the decking. Lights dangled from the smashed ceiling, their intermittent flashes reflecting in the cubes’ metallic sheen and highlighting the carnage below. Steve’s gaze moved down over the peppered containers to surface zero and its scorched burst of chalky white. His nemesis was never far away.

It took him three minutes to clear Armoury 17 and the Semaphores ten minutes to repair three deck-cars.

During that time, he and Francois had formulated a plan. Francois would create a diversion in the comms section while Steve attacked the access hall at the rear of the bridge. His two sections would arrive simultaneously at both ends of the hall. Although heavily defended, not even SIS could overcome the hall’s physical limitations.

After a final COMNET check, Steve stepped into the only available space of deck-car eight. Damp tension oozed from the grim faces of the other thirty-nine occupants. Some less than others, there were two Quads of Advocates in each section, Nik would be leading the other section from deck-car one. They had no AHs, Francois had insisted on taking them all.

When the deck-car doors closed, Steve spoke to his obscure reflection. ‘Op recap. Quad alpha with me, quad bravo split across upper and lower bridge decks. Two defenders per door, the remainder cover. Section two are coming in from the other end, so no axis fire once you hit the hall deck. Remember, bridge crew are unarmed, so aim first. Good luck.’

Steve looked down left, above the keypad a neon-blue counter glowed. They’d arrive in seventeen seconds. He nodded at the Semaphore next to the control panel. They’d bypassed the deck-car’s security protocols; the doors slid back, revealing a blur of monochrome lines.

The access hall snapped into view.

Steve sprang out and fired, ignoring the eye stabbing flashes ahead and the red cloudburst that spattered his right side. ‘Go!’ He fired again, the second Prefect, bound in ribbons of arcing light tilted sideways before crashing down next to the smouldering hulk of the first.

In the distance, spouts of yellow gunfire interspersed a black Prefect hovering under a downpour of light. On his right, a blue-grey parapet wall arched over five recessed entrances and edged a slate-grey ramp that sloped to the upper deck’s five pairs of white doors.

The beige tiled hall was five metres wide, bounded on the left by another blue-grey wall three storeys high. Two bands of mirrored glass delineated the upper half of the wall and reflected the line of massive light domes that perforated the ceiling.

Steve leapt down the tiled staircase, firing into the recessed doorways on each bound. Flashes of staccato noise shrieked past him towards the recesses, wall coverings erupted, blasting sprays of fiery dust into the hall.

A twitching AH staggered out from the second recess; no human could have survived. Steve’s Cogent swept towards it, but before he could squeeze the trigger his ears clamped shut in acoustic reflex. The scorched AH’s chest exploded and it toppled backwards. As it scrabbled to its feet, a second shot removed its head.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, his gaze climbing the staircase and coming to rest on the barrel of an APR 32.
Soon Bo, soon.

He sprinted forward, firing into all five recesses. Each one bloomed in a crackle of blue tinged white, devouring shadow and blazing out across the hall.

Ahead, a single black Prefect had pinned Section 2 under the staircase. Scorched craters peppered the steps and two bodies slumped against the right banister.

Steve ran towards the staircase, fired and dived. As he landed, the deck in front shattered, spraying his face with scorching grit. His left elbow plate whacked the crater’s edge, sending a ligament-tearing jar into his shoulder. He looked back and watched the Prefect crash at his feet, its saucer of a lens reflecting the flames jetting from its weapons port. A white cube steamed close by.

Steve climbed to his feet, rolled his left shoulder, and turned around to face the hall. His inner ear squealed, but beyond that — silence. Dusty fragments, gouged from the ragged edges of the lower door recesses sprinkled the hall’s shiny floor. Outside the second recess lay the headless AH, smoke from its shiny bared chest ascending into the lofty aisle.

He raised his left wrist. ‘Alphas all, alpha two. Confirm ready, over.’

The responses cycled through each of the bridge deck’s numbered entrances, ending with, ‘Ten, ready.’

‘Alpha two. Wait out.’

Nik joined him. Steve counted twelve sombre expressions. ‘Is this it?’

Nik’s face hardened. ‘We lost seven before we left the deck-car.’

Steve’s misgivings focused on the smouldering black carcass to his right. ‘Something’s wrong. This is too easy.’

‘Too easy!’ Nik nodded at Steve’s Cogent. ‘Excuse me for pointing out the obvious, sir, but
I
haven’t got one of those.’

‘I know, Nik, but SIS fielded one AH and three Prefects out of hundreds. Something’s wrong.’ Steve repressed his guilt; he knew SIS needed him alive. Everyone else was expendable.

He led Nik and the remainder of the section up the ramp to the upper level, which except for the pitted walls appeared relatively unscathed.

At the top, his thoughts strayed towards the mezzanine. Amongst the dark crimson footprints and jagged chunks of protector plates, two Defenders tended three wounded. His grip on the Cogent tightened; four more bodies lay motionless in the open deck-car. He raised his MPS. ‘Alpha one, alpha two. Sitrep, over.’

Francois sounded calm. ‘Alpha one. We hold the communications deck, no hostiles, over.’

Now I know something’s wrong.
‘Alpha two. Roger. Moving to phase two, out.’

Steve looked across the doorway of Entrance 3. The Defender’s blue and red diamond sleeve badge designated him a Semaphore. ‘Ready?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Alphas all, alpha two. Phase two in three, two, one. Go!’ The white moulded doors whished apart.

Steve swung into the doorway and blinked in the dimness. Ahead, beyond the chromed railings, the empty main viewer spanned the entire wall. The blue luminosity of its cinema like screen painted the bridge cerulean. He stepped forward onto the platform, sweeping both sides of the curved upper deck with his Cogent.

The ends of the concave upper deck arched out towards the screen. On both sides of him, the soft-light screens of three convex consoles each shone onto two high backed chairs. All but one of the twelve chairs sat empty. ‘Alphas all, alpha two. Secure the bridge and take positions on the doors, out.’

Steve walked to the railings and peered down onto the large circle of light below, the ‘Spectator’. A five-metre diameter screen sitting one metre above the navy carpet. It displayed a diagrammatic view of Provenance, deck by deck, room by room, person by person.

Nik’s voice came in over his left shoulder. ‘Where is everyone?’

Steve stared out across at the blank main viewer. ‘I have a feeling we’re about to find out.’ He swung right towards the occupied chair, ‘Take command. Call up Francois; tell him we’re on the bridge. I’m going to speak with that specialist.’

Before Steve reached the second console, the pure white uniform and tied-back blonde hair had swivelled in his direction. Three bars of cobalt blue attached to her collar ranked her as a Captain and the rhodium sphere and loop chest clasp, a pilot. Her tall slender frame stood, glistening lips formed a knowing smile as she extended her hand. ‘Hello, Captain Arrowsbury, we’ve been expecting you.’

Steve snatched up his Cogent and raised his MPS, ‘Dee where are you?’ No response. He twisted his right arm and tapped the MCD; Dee was in Alex’s room.

‘Steve.’

At the sound of Penny’s desperate voice, the tumble of thoughts stacked up. Only one person could have betrayed Penny’s location. Francois.

The main viewer split into three, Penny’s frightened pallor in the left and an overhead view of Alex’s room in the right.

Morton’s sardonic grin dominated the middle screen. ‘Your plan, the Resistance’s plan, has failed. You will not take control.’

Steve stared at Penny’s downcast face as the camera zoomed out. Behind her, framed against the interrogation room’s gleaming white tiles stood an Interrogator’s black and red uniform.