A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle) (37 page)

False name or no, the sight of Marc was a welcome surprise for Marette after the crisis of the last couple of days. Even so, as the last member of the hacker team, ESA was likely still looking for him, and she could not entirely fathom just why it was him that the AoA had sent. It was a risk even if none at Omicron but her knew of ESA's attempts to silence them. Either the AoA had resolved that situation since the quarantine, or they had cause to think it worth the risk. It was good to see him alive regardless, though further indulgence about his welfare was a luxury she did not have.

"We are under quarantine, Officer," she told Levy as she neared the door. "ESA will not officially send any aid, but there are certain protocols undertaken in such times—for which you have not the clearance—that allow for the Space Agency to violate legal safety guidelines. As such, this is not to be discussed outside of this base, is that clear?"

Levy nodded dutifully. "Understood, ma'am. Any help at this point is right welcome."

Marette displayed her right arm, which was currently immobilized and healing in a sling. "I would offer to shake your hands, gentleman, but I fear I am currently at a disadvantage."

Marc smiled, good enough to pick up on the hint. "We won't take it personally. And Michael shakes just the same as I do, so you're not missing much, I'm sure."

So Michael was AoA as well. It was a fair assumption already, but without shaking his hand she had no other way to confirm it.

"As for why we're here breaking quarantine," Marc went on, "you're right. There's something of a third party headed for Omicron."

Levy stiffened. "Bloody hell, like we don't have enough problems." Marette echoed the sentiment internally and hoped it was simply an AoA ploy rather than the truth. She needed to get the two men alone.

"It's nothing on the magnitude of what you're already dealing with, I'm sure," Marc's companion assured them. "But it's a security risk." He pulled an ESA ID badge from a suit compartment and displayed it to them all. Marc did the same, and Marette gave a show of examining it in front of the others
while they deferred to her.

"We do not have much time," she told them
afterward. "Follow me. There are things you must see." She turned to Levy. "Officer, I shall brief them on our situation in the Flow Control chamber where we can have a view of the complex. Check the life support controls. Confirm that opening the door has not destabilized the system."

"Aye, ma'am." Limping from his still-healing wound, Levy followed her into the main room as she led Marc and h
is companion through it toward Flow Control. "You were here before, weren't you?" she heard him say to Marc. "With that hacker team?"

Marette turned to cut off the exchange in time to see Marc wink at the officer and smile. "You didn't think ESA would bring in a freelance team without at least one person to keep an eye on them, did you?"

Levy seemed content to take Marc at his word, and they continued on. It was not a long walk at all across Life Support—the larger of the two chambers they managed to secure against the alien computer's influence. What few personnel left—only seven, including Marette—were clustered in amongst the equipment and supplies that they were able to stockpile before being completely cut off. Most of those left were uninjured, but she gave a quick check on the few who were not. The sight of new arrivals brought a trace of renewed hope to their faces, save for O'Shea's.

Of those who had survived,
O'Shea was the worst. They had been able to do a little for his wounds—the turret's bullet had not yet been fatal—but he was still unconscious and would soon need better attention than they could give. Marette herself was likely the second most wounded after him, but her arm would heal, and the gashes on her head were mostly cosmetic. Even so, her head still throbbed from the blow she'd suffered.

She deflected those survivors who rushed up in hopes of gaining new information, putting them off with a promise that they could speak to Levy about it for the moment and she would tell them all more once she had a chance to talk to the new arrivals. It was a testament to their discipline and the trust they placed in her that they allowed themselves to be patient.

She led Marc and Michael into a separate room normally used for the supervision of adding externally supplied water, oxygen, and other vital fluids to the life support system. It was barely large enough for the three of them among the storage tanks once she sealed the door behind them, but it did afford them privacy. The narrow window looking out beyond the exterior tank feeds to the rest of the complex was not a bad excuse to bring them there, either.

She let out a breath she had not realized she
had been holding. "It is excellent to see you. Both of you. I did not expect to see you return after what ESA did to the others. You are alright?" The latter was mostly toward Marc. She needed to ask.

Marc removed his visor. "More or less
. I'm not the one with the broken arm and bandages on my head." He glanced at Michael as if hesitating about something, but it wasn't until after he moved to embrace her that she realized he was planning to do so. She returned the hug as best she could; the contact, while not unwelcome, was not a luxury for which they had time. Marette pulled away first.

The confusion on Marc's face at that was unmistakable. "Ah, we haven't really had any trouble from ESA, exactly." He slid his visor back onto his eyes. "Michael's been keeping an eye on me for that."

"And it's Michael Flynn, actually," the other said with a quizzical look at Marc. "I don't mean to rush you, but what happened here?"

Marc nodded. "The last transmission out listed the quarantine order as yours, but you weren't the one to transmit it; the AoA wasn't even sure you were still
—I mean we knew you were at least injured."

She frowned at the reminder. If she had kept her cool inside
Paragon
she might not have gotten injured and been able to do more to help the AoA's position before the quarantine. Now they were forced to come in blind. Now there was nothing for Marette to do about it but prevent the same mistake in the future.

She said,
"You already know about the attempt to link directly to the domes in the new chamber,
oui
? After isolating it from the black material?"

"That much we got from your final report."

"It was
not
isolated," she told them. "There was something we missed. Even if it was not, it was believed—we believed—that anything out of the ordinary would be detected before it would be able to get far. We were fools.
Paragon
sent a buried signal through the connection that existed for at least ninety minutes before we detected anything. Even then, the idea that it could do so much to our own system was. . ." She shook her head. "As I said, we were fools, limiting our estimates of what technology from another world was capable."

They continued to listen as she detailed how, too late, they realized it had gained foothold control of Omicron's computers and reinforced its own link to their mainframe. She told of the drone attack that she believed to be a diversionary tactic, the chaos when they discovered that their own defensive turrets were turned against them, and the last moments she herself witnessed upon putting herself further in danger to come to Levy's aid
when the chamber decompressed.

"I only vaguely remember ordering the quarantine, but it was my decision. If it could exit through the link to Omicron, it might spread further beyond the site. Were I conscious, I could have given the AoA better information."

"You did what you could," Marc said.

"
Oui
, but not what I should." She looked out the window toward the complex's transmitter, now physically disabled. "Thanks to my heroics, I was unconscious for much of what happened next. I am told that those left in the chamber managed to pull me out. That the drones were more concerned with protecting the link than exterminating us, though our turret in the chamber had to be destroyed.

"The
lull did not last for long. Primary Control decompressed. Those inside suffocated. Soon our space suits, all of which are linked to Control for vital sign monitoring, ceased to be viable due to forced electrical burnout and O
2
venting. It was reportedly a running battle to properly disable everything completely. The mobile turrets we had in storage turned against us, and ammunition in the hand-helds was spent on fighting them. Some of the base corridors are no longer viable as a result; bullets punctured windows and bulkheads auto-sealed against the vacuum."

"They're destroyed then?" Michael asked. "The turrets?"

"Most, but not all. They are mobile. We believe there is one left, possibly two. They likely guard Primary Control, or are otherwise held in reserve."

"Reserve for what?"

"Presumably, to guard against further efforts to retake Omicron. Or until whatever has taken control of them decides that they are needed. We are effectively beaten for the moment, gentlemen. All we have managed is to isolate Life Support Control itself to provide us with breathable atmosphere here; we are running it off of a portable terminal and have physically severed any external links. We have physically disabled Omicron's transmitter and some minor systems that have kept it from further sabotaging our position. Beyond this, we are trapped. What atmosphere that exists outside these few chambers is not viable, and the base computer controls many of the complex doors and the main airlock—"

"The smaller ones still work," Michael told her. "At least the lock by the shuttle pad."

She nodded. "That may be the only one that does. I am told the lock nearest to
Paragon
's entrance was damaged in the fighting. To say it is not an optimal situation would be an extreme understatement. And whatever controls Omicron is, for lack of a more specific term, up to something."

The two men waited for her to elaborate, and she pointed out the window. "On the other side of the complex is the lab. Before we lost control completely, someone succeeded in accessing the security cameras. The lab has robotic manipulators that we have previously used to dissect the disabled security drones with a measure of safety. This thing is using them to build something. Or many somethings. We know not what precisely, but I am told that certain elements were seen that may indicate that it is building mobile devices."

"Robots?"

"Likely. Though they could not learn more before the camera feed was lost."

"Well now that we've got some suits that still work, we might be able to make it to the mainframe, right?" Michael asked. "Shut it down somehow and keep it from doing whatever it's doing."

"Perhaps. Though we suspect the remaining turrets to be guarding against that very measure. As I said, ammunition for what
few weapons we have is depleted, and the two of you seem to be carrying little yourselves."

Marc sighed. "If any."

"We couldn't smuggle much the way we got here, and what we do have won't likely do much against those turrets. Or those drone things, for that matter. Though you didn't mention seeing those since
Paragon
?"

"One blessing," she agreed. "We believe they are unable to function outside of the influence of the black material."

Marc looked even more uncomfortable than previously. "Are you sure?"

"Hypothesis only," she answered, "based on circumstance and study of the damaged ones pri
or to the incident." She cursed. "And you have no weapons."

Michael nodded grimly. "We had a way to get here fast, so
we took the opportunity. I'm sorry we couldn't bring more, but we're not entirely useless just yet."

"It was not my intent to imply that you were. I will say that the decision to send you here with so little offensive capacity represents a drastic lack of sanity on the AoA's part!
Mon Dieu
, can you even fire those with suit gloves?"

"We had a damn time just getting us here at all!" Michael shot. "Look, for now we're the best they could do."

She frowned and tried to calm herself. The AoA would've done more if it were possible. "I apologize." Marette pulled herself back to the present.

"They w
eren't even sure you were still here," Marc added with an awkward touch to her shoulder. "Or if there even was a threat. Knapp floated the idea that you might have been found out yourself and that's why the place was shut down. But we're not exactly just here for recon."

"You refer to this third party you mentioned to Officer Levy? Or was that merely a cover?"

Marc gave a smile similar to one he'd flashed when he came up with an idea during the hackers' planning session. "A little of both, really."

It was then that they told her of Gideon and what had become of the ESA mole. It baffled her. There were technological wonders on either side of them, some extra-terrestrial, some not. Marette held her reaction while they went on to describe how they had joined with the freelancer Diomedes as part of still another effort to claim the secrets at Omicron, and finally what transpired when they found Gideon at the airlock.