Code Breakers Complete Series: Books 1-4 (51 page)

Sasha came up to Petal. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Good,” Petal said. “I’m feeling much better. I wanted to thank you for bringing me back here. You probably saved my life.”

“The least I could do. Do you think it worked?” Sasha said.

Petal shrugged. “The code seemed good. The simulation went through okay, but who knows how these things work in the real world?”

“They’re coming back,” Sasha said.

Together, they moved out of the way of the door. Vickers and Robertson came out into the corridor, and addressed the crowd awaiting them. Robertson spoke first.

“I can confirm that at 05:15 this morning, the LEMP successfully fired and…”

“And what?” Petal said, unable to bare the tension, wanting desperately for it to have worked so that she could get on the Meshwork, and try to find Gerry. “Did it work or not?”

Robertson brushed dust from his cuffs, said. “I can confirm that the attack was successful. Our systems indicate zero signals from the satellite. It is offline.”

A great cheer and a roar went up. Scientists and soldiers alike high-fived and hugged each other. Everyone was smiling. It clearly meant more than taking out a Family satellite. It was the thought of freedom, the realisation that they were free to leave their underground facility. Most of them had been born there, and those not in the armed division or the aquatic research division had never even been outside. Never breathed the air, or felt the sun on their skin.

But Petal didn’t cheer as loudly. She politely smiled and shook hands with those who thanked her for the help with the coding, but she knew that many of these people wouldn’t live beyond the next few days. They had no idea of the brutality and unforgiving nature of the world. Life had little meaning on the outside. Those who’d feel nothing about it could snuff it out in seconds.

They’d all face a lot more hardship before they could cheer and feel secure again. But despite that, she admired them for their courage and spirit. Even if they couldn’t fully understand what they were letting themselves in for.

Vickers hushed the crowd, gave orders. “This is the first part of the plan. It’s good to feel jubilant right now, but we’re leaving a place we’ve called home for a number of decades now. The next part is to travel to the mainland, to the city of Darkhan where we’re going to face a strong enemy. It’ll take courage and discipline to fight for our freedom, and protect others from tyranny. Our time has come, and it’s time for us to leave, to fight, and to claim our future. You all know what to do. The transporters are waiting in Hangar Eighteen. Gather your things, and be there by oh-five-forty hours.”

He curtly saluted, turned on his heel, and headed down the corridor. The rest of his division returned the salute and followed.

Robertson approached Petal and Sasha, along with his group of six scientist-engineers. “Are you two ready?” He asked. Petal and Sasha nodded. “Then follow me, and we’ll get you two settled on the planes. It’ll be about a five hour journey, so I’d suggest you get some sleep, rest up.”

“Sounds good to me,” Petal said as she turned and followed Sasha by her side.

***

As Petal followed Robertson down the corridors, she hung back to chat with Sasha.

“How many are there here? People I mean. The ones leaving?”

“All in all about two hundred and fifty, including scientists and the military personnel, but then there’s the androids. There are five thousand of those.”

“Christ, how big are your transporter planes? You can’t take all of them, surely?”

Sasha laughed. “Of course not. We’ve got three transporters. Each one takes about three hundred personnel plus weapons, provisions, equipment, etc. We’ll only take eight pods of ‘droids. About four hundred in all, but still a potent force that can be drop-shipped within minutes.”

“Sounds very useful,” Petal said. “I’m sure that’d be enough to take Darkhan back. What kind of ‘droids are they?”

“Combat models mostly,” Sasha said. “Although we were adapting many for tasks such as farming, engineering etc. The plan was to have them ready to work on infrastructure and farming when they went to the surface.”

“And is that still the plan?”

Sasha shrugged. “It was until you arrived. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I mean, you gave us the intel to know what was going on. Perhaps if the war, if it comes to that, isn’t too bad, then we could start to clean up the land, maybe make a new home for ourselves.”

Petal didn’t want to say that was wishful thinking. So many groups of survivors had had the same idea over the years, but none had made much of a life on the land. Even the Upsiders, one of the more successful groups, still bore the mark of the Cataclysm within their mutations. And the Bachians were more interested in drinking and fighting than making a viable alternative to the Dome.

Sasha led her through yet more corridors until they came to the hangar.

She never thought she’d see something so large and yet still be underground. The three great transporters sat wing-to wing next to each other. Lines of people passed supplies into the transporters.

The planes looked like old-fashioned commercial aircraft, except they didn’t have the huge wingspan or the old, round jet engines. Much like the Jaguars and the ATVs, these, too, sported great VTOL motors within the stub wings that allowed them to take off at all angles, and pivoted at the fuselage, making them act like high-powered rotors when in flight. The surface of the planes was a dull grey colour, but Sasha had informed her that these had an earlier version of Robertson’s stealth technology. This older system was an upgraded version of the famous pre-war American company Lockheed’s first stealth fighter, the F-117. None of it really mattered to Petal. All she cared about was whether or not it’d get them there safely.

Robertson and Vickers dashed around that great expanse of a hangar, ushering people into lines, making order out of chaos. It felt like some great wild migration. While she and Sasha were standing in a line, waiting to board one of the transporters, she felt her systems finally come online.

At first it was a small buzz in her head. A persistent flow of electricity that flowed throughout her neural network, and then down through her spine and out into every nerve within her body. It wasn’t unpleasant, and she found herself smiling as it felt like every cell in her body tingled.

“Are you okay?” Sasha said.

“Yeah, my new chip’s finally online. It feels crazy.”

Through her new upgraded chip she reached out with her mind to sense the flow of data within Criborg’s system. But there was another network, its signals faint, and the flow of data sluggish. She recognised it straight away. She was connected to the Meshwork, its data flow no longer suppressed by the satellite. Via her internal GUI she tracked the data as a slow trickle at first. Obviously the users of the network over the weeks had dropped off, realising it wasn’t working. The only data that existed now were networking protocols and a bunch of automated maintenance scripts running on the server. Omega!

At least now Petal knew it was still running.

Sasha chatted on about some inconsequential detail when they finally started to move closer to their designated transporter. At the head of the line stood the twin poles of Criborg: Vickers and Robertson. Working in tandem they checked against their slates, probably a manifest, and directed each individual to the appropriate transporter.

The two transporters on the left received the android pods: square Polymar™ boxes with clear sides, loaded by anti-grav heavy loaders. Within the pods, Petal could make out hundreds of suspended human-like androids, decked out in the grey and orange livery: the colours of Criborg. They looked like real people, or more accurately lots of the same person, and she wondered if Jimmy Robertson had modelled these on another member of his family. Were these mechanical clones of his son, brother, father?

“Are they good?” Petal asked. “Combat wise.”

“Hell yeah. We could have used them way before now, but as usual, ol’ Jimmy was too conservative. There was a small bug in their software, and a few people got killed once. It was fixed, but he was still too nervous. But I guess in time likes these, even Jimmy has to bite the bullet and have a little faith.”

“Wait, they were defective?”

“Kinda, sorta, not really. They’re okay now. Like I said, a small software bug, it’s been sorted. Vickers, he—”

As if invoking his name had somehow summoned him, he strode across to Petal and Sasha.

“You two are riding with me and the Doc. Move out.”

Sasha gave him a sharp salute before dashing ahead of the line to the transporter. Each plane sported a bird logo on the rear stabiliser fin: Falcon, Condor, and Vulture. She, Sasha, and Robertson were in Condor.

“You too,” Vickers said pointing his finger at Petal. “Time to move out.”

It occurred to her how much he seemed to enjoy pointing at people. Must be some kind of military leader-type bullshit, she thought. Petal gave him the stink eye. “I ain’t one of your soldiers, General, so you can stop your damned pointing and address me with a little respect.”

He sneered at her, “I don’t like your attitude, girl.”

Before he could turn his back and return to the lines of people, Petal responded. “Have you always been a chauvinistic prick, General? Or do you save it for special occasions?” She said it so loud it seemed the entire population of Criborg turned to watch the argument.

That got him fuming again. She so enjoyed how his face puffed up ready to explode.

He stepped towards her, sucking in his breath, making himself big and dominating. “How dare you!”

Petal dashed to the side and circled him so fast he had barely time to consider what had happened. She extended her chromed spikes and brought them up to his ribs. He stiffened at the touch of those sharp points.

“Just remember who you’re talking to, General. I’m not one of your goons to be ordered around like some dumb soldier. And if you disrespect me, or anyone else for that matter, once more, or pull that sexist bullshit, I’ll make you a eunuch. You understand me?”

He tensed. Petal could feel the waves of hatred crash against her, but she kept her spikes digging into his ribs, pushing that little bit further. After a few more seconds, with the place quietened to a hush, Vickers almost choked it out like it was something stuck in his throat.

“Okay, I understand.”

Petal retracted her spikes.

Vickers spun round, aimed a great meaty fist at her with a wild swing, but Petal was too quick, and stepped forward into his lunge. Taking his weight and momentum she pivoted on her hip and sent him crashing to the ground face first, while gripping his wrist, pulling his arm back, and placing her boot on his back.

“We could play this out all damned day, General. I suggest you swallow your pride, and stop trying to assert yourself like some prized cockerel. We need your strategizing and leadership, not your ego-driven nonsense.”

“Okay, Petal. That’s enough.” Jimmy Robertson said as he dashed across to put his hands on her shoulders. “The General has certain problems, but can we try and keep a lid on all this. We don’t have a lot of time if we’re to make progress to Darkhan.”

“Sure thing, Doc.” Petal lifted her boot and casually walked away to the same transporter that Sasha had boarded. She ignored the open-mouthed stares from the General’s men and women, and the gleeful smiles of the scientific lot.

Jimmy was right though: she did feel quicker and more capable with her upgrades. It felt good to be active again, to feel alive and alert.

When she climbed up inside the plane, Sasha was sitting in a seat in the middle row of three. She was fiddling with a slate. Petal slumped into the seat next to her.

“You shouldn’t antagonise him like that,” Sasha said. “He’s not such a bad guy. He just has limited social skills.”

“The guy’s a dick, and his ego will get people killed out there on the surface. You lot don’t know what it’s like up there. You’ve all been so sheltered down here, practising your military tactics with computer-generated enemies. You think it’ll be the same up there?”

“I guess we’ll see,” Sasha said. “Look, the Meshwork’s getting busier. It seems the news has got out.”

Petal looked at Sasha’s slate. A traffic analysis program counted the gigabytes of data flowing across the network. It wouldn’t be long before it was terabytes once those survivors out in the abandoned lands knew it was operational again.

“That’s good. This will help us,” Petal said, thinking of finally getting back in touch with Gerry, and the others too. She wondered about Gabe and Enna, hoped they were safe.

“Do you have an internal interface, for programming and such like?” Petal asked. She wondered given that she could access the same data and visual representations internally that Sasha was looking at on her slate.

“No. Jimmy never gave me that capability. Mostly combat stuff.”

“Gotcha,” Petal said. “Makes sense, I suppose.”

“We kinda complement each other’s skill sets quite nicely, don’t ya think?”

“I’d say we do.”

While Sasha occupied herself watching the network grow, Petal checked her VPN connection with Gerry. She tried to access her internal router, send out a message, but there was no connection. The VPN tunnel was down, or Gerry was no longer running the server on his side. If he was even still alive.

She ached not knowing what had happened to him or where he might be. Gabe had only said The Family took him. She tried to keep faith that he was still out there, waiting for her.

She closed her eyes and tried to meditate while the boarding continued.

After a few minutes of deep relaxation, Petal felt a nudge on her arm. Sasha.

“Hey, we’re ready,” Sasha said. “Buckle up.”

Robertson sat in the aisle to her right. He looked over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Looking forward to some rest. Is anyone staying behind with the other clones?”

Robertson shook his head. “They’re coming with us. I couldn’t trust anyone to look after them.”

“I thought they were dead?”