Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten (5 page)

Once a TARP impacted upon the deflecting field of a D-Shield, the ‘Swarm within the Shield would predict where the hyper-sonic bolt would head next and, immediately, it would move to deflect it again.  By every third or fourth deviation, the Shield would be able to duplicate itself, leaving yet another surface to literally “bounce” the TARP away from its’ intended target.  Over a relatively short duration, a complete “cocoon” will develop about the TARP, effectively containing it within.  When the dart finally lost its’ velocity, it would merely “fall” to the bottom of the now spherical D-Shield – harmless.

Problems only develop when the probability matrix of a given Shield improperly predicts a ricochet.  Since TARP’s are so incredibly dangerous, the outcome of such a miscalcul
ation could sometimes be horrendous.

Estefan was glued to the virtua-HUD on his sim-screen.

Eight TARP’s, four from each weapon rack, burst to life and streaked from the pursuing –car.  A quarter of an eye-blink later, eight D-Shields “popped” from the rear bumper of their vehicle.  At once, the Shields expanded.  They oriented themselves at precisely fifteen degrees upward relative to the oncoming missiles.  By now, the TARP’s had been reduced to molten slag within a high-powered electromagnetic field set to disengage upon impact.

The Keeper braced himself as everything seemed to happen simultaneously.  All eight TARP’s struck a corresponding D-Shield.  Their Grav-car swerved across seven lanes of traffic, going afterburner to make the maneuver without hitting anything.  Flavia settled into a Weapons Control Module that hadn’t been in the backseat seconds before.  He counted as all eight D-Shields “caught” their respective TARP’s, each beginning an intricate dance of deflection.  Each slag-bolt ricocheted off the impenetrable Diatainium surface of the Shields, only to ricochet off another – again and again.  The D-Shield spheres began to form almost at once, trapping the TARP’s, lifting them up into the night air, above the flood of traffic on the highway.

Then, eight more flashes caught his attention as the extra-long Grav-car banked suddenly, bringing their conveyance into range - eight more TARP’s were catapulting toward them.

“D-Shields deployed!” quailed the ‘Swarm.

The scene before him repeated.  Eight interceptions, eight containments as the TARP’s were lifted above the congested freeway.

“Flavia, do something!” he ordered, accessing the city-grid, trying to see if Public Safety had been alerted to this mini-battle on the Artery.  They had!  There were at least two score ground units dispatched and double that in the air. 
Shit, things are going to get really bad, very soon.

“I’m trying!  What do you think I’m doing here, picking my ass?”

Eight more TARP’s flashed.

Fuck!

Their enemy was done playing games, hoping to overwhelm their D-Shields.  Eight more TARP’s fired on the heels of the second volley, followed by eight more, then eight after that.

Estefan re-opened their private channel on Angel Free Town’s CommNet, feeling the back of their Grav-car vibrate
as an equal number of the Shields “popped” to block the incoming slag-bolts.  “Michael, you still there?” he asked into his sim-screen.

The first D-Shields began to interact with the TARP’s.

“Never left, sir,” came the clipped reply.  The blinking pixel once again turned into the fuzzy video feed from before.

More Shields “caught” their targets.

“We need Synod security forces down here at once,” commanded the Keeper.

More interceptions, more deflections – their enemy fired another round, then another.

“Already en route, Lord Keeper – ETA: twelve point two minutes.”

More Shields arrayed –
a lot more!
  Their Grav-car’s ‘Swarm must’ve anticipated the enemy’s tactics.  It was jettisoning many more of the countermeasures than was necessary.  It was smart, though.

More TARP’s screeched from the weapon rocks behind them.

Estefan frowned.  “How is
that
possible?”

The entire freeway behind them was now clear of vehicles, all twelve lanes were filled with Shield spheres.  The TARP’s were bursting with brilliant cascades of light each time they rebounded off a Diatainium surface.

“Lord Keeper, Synoddess Cervantes has been monitoring this transmission for the past four minutes.  She’s using a passive trace, designate Alpha-Omega 1, Priority Delta, Serial Number 02.  That makes her Aegis Synod grade…”  He paused to clear his throat.  “…Just as you, my Lord.”

Still, more TARP’s came.

Estefan didn’t reply.  He minimized the video feed back down to a single pixel, shaking his head. 
Well, she was only in orbit above the earth…
, he was thinking when one of the D-Shields misinterpreted the course of its’ TARP.  The molten slag streaked upward into the underbelly of the highway above them.  The electric storm that followed was so bright, it hurt Estefan’s eyes – and that was a hard thing to do to a Heavy.

It was a horrific thing to see – the slag-dart ripping through the two middle lanes of the twelve-laned freeway, the explo
sion and the bolts of generated-lightening striking into the traffic below.  Hundreds were electrocuted, cooked alive in their –cars or –buses or –skiffs.  The Grav-fields failed at once, sending every vehicle down into the emergency suspension-nets a meter or so below the former surface of the road.  Most of them were saved.  A few, though… the heaviest of the transports couldn’t be helped and unseen generators squealed in protest to keep those ponderous monsters aloft – to no avail.

Another round of deflections flickered behind them as huge Glide-haulers, over-long bus-trains, Grav-trucks and many, many more specialized conveyances fell from the upper level and onto the level they were traversing.  Collisions, explosions, pulverized bodies, tremendous heat and flames stretched back as far as the one-time brother and sister could see.

“Do you have them?” asked the Keeper through clenched teeth.  Though they had left Angel Free Town years and years ago, it was obvious Estefan was still possessive of it.  It had been, after all, his hand that had raised it from the ashes of war and famine.

Flavia didn’t answer.  Her fingers, like a pianist above his keys, never stopped moving over the Weapons Interface.  Suddenly, their Grav-car shuddered beneath them.

The Keeper watched as single Mark 97-Super G, anti-Grav Torp ejected from a hard-point somewhere within their vehicle.  Its warhead was already searching for the specific gravitational signature of the elongated chase car.  The Guardian had been imputing its frequency the entire time.

The chasing Grav-car turned aside violently, trying to avoid the large weapon.  Its occupants hastily raising a Beam-Shield, hoping its electronic “thrum” would be enough to
confuse the Super G’s homing mechanisms.  It worked – almost.

Instead of a direct hit, the torpedo slammed into the rearmost section of the –car.  It wasn’t a killing blow, because it mostly exploded in the storage compartment of the vehicle, which, unfortunately, was armored.  Thus, most of the Dia-The
rm Hybrid warhead’s detonation was contained within.  It did serve, however, to disable one of the rear Grav-lifts, which had to be compensated for by the other three.  This was no easy task.  It forced the extra-long Grav-car to hover at an angle ten degrees to the right.  It also meant, their enemies couldn’t travel any faster than one hundred and fifty kilometers an hour.

Estefan and Flavia quickly left them behind.  There were few vehicles that could keep up with their modified Merc-Ford 5500 at full capacity.  A hobbled –car simply couldn’t manage it.

“Someone’s going to feel my foot up their ass for this,” grumbled the Keeper as his one-time step-sister extracted herself from the Weapons Module and snaked her way back to the driver’s seat.

She flipped her hair behind her ears, settling into the adaptive chair.  “Fucking audacious,” was all she’d say.

“Imm-hmm,” agreed the Keeper through pursed lips.

She didn’t take over navigation of the Grav-car right away.  She left their conveyance in auto-mode and began checking all of its many systems instead.

Estefan had anticipated this.  “Our course is still true.  We’re spot on for the Null-unit.”

“We gonna need it,” she said, nodding her head at the hundreds of flashing lights as Public Safety descended upon the scene.

“Go stealth, Flavy, and get us the fuck out of here.”

She flicked her fingers over the correct modulator and took control of the –car, the Spaceport already in sight, though it was still some ten kilometers away.

A long silence ensued.  They were both immersed in thought.  Who could’ve done this?  Why?  Who had the means?  Who had funded a Fermonist
and
such advanced weaponry like the TARP?  Who had compromised Dr. Ahmed’s security?  What were they getting into?

Flavia breathed a few heavy breaths, then sighed hugely.  “They killed a lot of people, Eff.”

He nodded, looking out the window, trying to find solace in the farms.  He failed.  “They’ll pay.  We’ll find them and they’ll pay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Earth Summer – 2385)

The Aegis Synod

Estefan Ernando, the Keeper of the Aegis Synod, sat there looking anywhere but at her – the wall, the floor – anywhere.  It was taking every fiber in his body
not to look.  He didn’t want to make things worse. 
Why does this have to be so damned hard?
  Absently, he placed his hands upon his knees and slouched, a valiant attempt to hide the frustration, turning ever closer to anger. 
All I ever wanted was to sit aside and watch mankind hang itself upon a noose of its own making.  Why do they ask me to remove the rope?   I have no desire to do so!  I will never help them!  Never!

An ancient thought came to mind and made his head come up of its’ own accord. 
I miss you, mama…

She was waiting patiently, though she wasn’t his mother.

His eyes found hers finally.  He had to take a deep breath to keep his composure.  She was sitting so complacent, calm, while inside his guts churned and clenched, powerful emotions of the present combined with primordial stirrings of the past.  They made him sick. 
How could they ask this of me and my family?

An hour earlier, they had screamed into the VIP section of parking bay 167, the signature of their Glide-car enough to gain them entry without human discourse.  Estefan’s homing beacon took them directly to it.  It hadn’t taken them long to access the mobile Null-unit, which looked no different than a Glide-hauler on the outside.  It was what lay beneath the paint and the fake company logos that differentiated its’ true nature from everything else around it.  It was formed from a compound so secret and so rare – not to mention expensive - only the highest echelons
of society could afford it.  Its’ technology was so incredible; the true reach of its application had yet to be realized.  This was despite the fact it had been discovered back in 2074.  All this time, only the Keeper and his Aegis Synod knew its secrets, only they profited from the enormous advantage technology of this sort could bestow upon its’ owners.  It was Null-tech, a hybrid helix of conjoined elements that could thwart Muto powers – all of them.  It was so vital to the Synod’s existence, it accounted for nearly fifty-seven percent of their annual profits.  It made Diatainium mining look like pawn shop sales by comparison.

Once one stepped within a confined space surrounded by this compound, they couldn’t be found.  They were simply “nullified” from the world around them.  Not even the greatest Fermonist could find them.  He could be standing in the very next room or skulk beside a similar mobile Null-unit and never catch a single sense his prey were mere inches away.  Null-tech was the skeleton that kept the Aegis Synod upright, if not uplifted, above
all
their competition.  They guarded it with more firepower than all the terrible weapons conceived by the two superpowers during the age-old Cold War.

The two of them had ditched their Glide-car, bolted for the rear
of this new, wondrous vehicle.  They had subjected themselves to the same sort of verification required of all Synod owned technologies and entered.  Inside, they found themselves in a long room, apartment-like, complete with all the accoutrements therein.

Once the door had sealed behind them, the Null-unit activated, invisible to the world. No one could hope to find them.  They were gone.

The Null-unit’s localized programming had kicked-in and the entire vehicles had lurched from its’ parking space and lumbered from the bay.  Within minutes, it had joined the throng of traffic Angel Free Town was famous for having upon its’ thoroughfares, highways and sky-paths.  It was just another Glide-hauler among millions, driving about the fifteen levels of the megalith.

They had a minimum 24-hour stretch within th
is strange vehicle as it moved randomly about the city, choosing to go where it wished to go.  When it’s’ ‘Swarm projected their situation was safe enough, or within allowable parameters, it would open.  Where it would do so, they had no idea, because they had no internal control over the Null-unit.  It would simply stop and open, giving them opportunity to disembark.

Estefan wrenched his gaze from hers, his head bowed once more.

She seemed to notice his discomfort was seeded deeper than the mere disagreement between the two of them, and a flash of concern echoed about her visage.  Then, “Effy, why does all of this bother you so much?  It’s not like we haven’t been through worse.”  She wasn’t being facetious or sarcastic.  She genuinely wanted to know.

In silent anguish, Estefan’s hand cupped his bald head.  He shook with the same sort of nervous energy filling him when he was on the verge of killing.  “You
do
remember
them
, don’t you?  Or maybe you’re becoming forgetful in your old age.”  He couldn’t help the edge to his voice, so sharp it could cut.  He was angry all over again. 
Sonofabitch!

Her eyes narrowed.  “Don’t insult me, because you can’t explain what you’re feeling.  I’m on your side, you thick-headed mule, and I always will be,” she said forcefully, sitting on a chair opposite him, wrapped in a glow-shawl.  It was a garment that provided both warmth and light to its wearer
.  It was the only luminance in the ten by forty meter chamber.  It was the only heat as well, though temperature mattered little to him.  Heavies were seldom affected by cold, or heat, for that matter.  It had something to do with the imperviousness of their skin.

He felt adequately chagrined at his outburst.  She was, after all, right.  She had been there on that day.  She had been the one pulling him from the confused fog in his mind, getting him out of the line of fire, despite the carnage raging around them.  She had been the only one thinking clear enough to act.  It didn’t matter he’d been covered in blood, his victim laid sprawled on the tiled floor of the balcony, lifeless, headless.  Flavia had come and got him the fuck out of there.

“I’m sorry, Flavy,” he mumbled.

“I know,” she began, “but you still didn’t answer my question…”  Her brow lifted upon her forehead.

He was silent for a long time, but she waited him out, determined to hear what he had to say.  “I can’t reconcile the risk against the reward,” he murmured, looking away.

“What risk?” she asked meaningfully, somewhat aware of the answer already.

He replied at once.  “I will not risk you or any of our family just because someone tells us if we don’t act, the human race will surely face extinction.  How many times have we heard such nonsense in the past?  I’m not a complete idiot.”

She sighed wearily.  “Estefan, I think you should consider the source this time before you go off making
decisions as rash as that.”

He didn’t answer, though his scowl deepened.

Nevertheless, Flavia was determined.  “Dr. Ball’s family and ours go way back, my dear, further than any of our other business partners.  Our little transaction back then helped us both, tremendously.  It gave him and his people the means to leave earth and colonize Europa, and it gave us the liquid funds we needed to insure our survival here on earth.  Why would he come to us now, if he weren’t telling the truth about this new threat?  It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It would if you knew
the nature of our past and were using it to manipulate the situation.  It’s the perfect entry point; establish contact via a trusted source – a source that’s already been compromised,” explained Estefan as if he were talking to a four-year-old.

The auburn-haired beauty shook with frustration.  “You’re too darned paranoid.  You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh, am I?” countered the Keeper, trying his best not to give her the dirty look threatening to blanket his face. 
Heavies don’t get ulcers!

She ignored him, reaching down to unstrap her heels from her feet, groaning, as an abrupt wave of fatigue washing over her.  She hadn’t been expected being this tired, but should’ve.  It had been a long, grueling day
, filled with too much destruction and death. 
How many had died on the Artery today?  A thousand?  Ten thousand? 
It was hard for her to think about.  How could she not feel sorry for them?

Estefan stared at her as she slowly massaged her feet, her long, slim fingers splaying long, thin toes.  Her nails were polished black as usual, her fingernails colored the same, and
, for a brief moment, he couldn’t tell what belonged to her foot and what belonged to her hand.  Despite his ire over the topic of discussion, he felt himself harden. 
Is she trying to distract me on purpose?
he thought out of the blue.  He had a notion to let the idea anger him further, but he forgot it almost as quickly as it occurred to him.  He had always loved Flavia’s feet…

She continued for a moment longer, and then a wave of self-consciousness washed over her.  She stared up at him from her slightly bent position, seeing a different sort of gleam in his eye.  She knew it well, but decided to play dumb. They had been on the verge of a fight for much too long and it was growing bothersome.  “What’re you thinking, Effy?” she asked in a low voice.

“Though I have to admit that I like it, I’m thinking you’re intending to use
every
weapon in your arsenal,” he replied, his voice rougher than he wanted to convey.

“You think I’m that crude?” she wondered, her tone the same.

“I believe you’re that smart, Flavy.  You always have been,” he admitted, though his eyes never left her hands as they continued to course over her lower extremities.

She brought her hands to her knees. 

His eyes stayed glued to her feet.

“I really don’t have to be anything, my dear.  I could have you at any time and you could take me just as well.  Neither of us would complain.  So, why would I resort to such carnal games, knowing full well it wouldn’t change your mind…?”

He laughed aloud, hard and from deep within his chest.

Her smile lit up the room.  The man she had once called brother, who she had loved for more years than she could remember, was back.

“You’re good, Flavy.  You are waaaay too good,” he grinned.  It was his way of complimenting her for lightening the mood, though there was still a film of residual lust coating the manner in which he said it.

She pulled something from one of the tiny pockets in her suit and began to pull her hair back away from her v-shaped face.

He realized it was an auto-twining hair tie, and thought,
she’s giving herself a ponytail.
  He liked her with a ponytail.  It accentuated her long neck and thin-boned chin. 
You are so beautiful, Flavia,
he felt himself think and decided being circumspect was a waste of everyone’s time.  The reality of what she was always seemed to center him.

“Truth be told,” he began, standing quickly, which made the chair he had been sitting upon squeak in protest.  They both ignored it.  “After what they did to us, they don’t deserve our protection.”

Her eyes followed him, her brow furling.  “That was a long time ago, Estefan, that government, everyone who represented it, they’re all dead.  Shit, my dear, they’re probably all
dust
by now.”

He shook with anger so intense it startled him.  He hadn’t thought about the past – the far past – so long, he’d forgotten how much he buried below guilt and sorrow… and time.  He’d tried with all of his might to forget, but somehow, some way, he couldn’t. 
They had no right to take my family!
  He balled his fists until they began to turn red-hot with the incredible pressure he was applying.  It was another by-product of being a Heavy – one had to control how tight they held onto something.  They could inadvertently squeeze it into pure energy, which typically wasn’t a good thing, especially when the energy was released.

“I don’t think I care, Flavy,” he spoke through tight lips.

She was at his side before he knew otherwise.  “Oh, Estefan, you can’t do that to yourself,” she smoothed, touching his shoulder, but avoiding his fists.  She knew they were lethal when he had them clenched so tightly.

He turned away, though he slowly loosened the tension in his hands.

To her, he looked ashamed at the display of raw emotion.  “Maybe, we should call the others,” she prompted.  “You need to hear from more than just me on this subject.”

He turned back, under control.  “Ok,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheeks with fingers still warm against her skin.  “You are a better person than I am, Flavia.  You always have been.”

She smiled warmly and activated her Neuro-Nanoswarm; the thousands of nanites particles and motes came from all about the room at her bidding.  It was time for the wives of the Aegis Synod to speak as one.

*****

Mena was the last to join them, and, with her arrival, the eight women comprising the centermost part of Estefan’s life were present.  Well almost, their projections, at least, were before him as he sat in the Null-unit, nearly twenty minutes later.

She smiled demurely at her tardiness, her big, brown eyes blinking rapidly beneath pencil-thin eyebrows, framed within long, flowing, ruddy-brown hair.  The 360-tru-def projection depicted her as real as if she’d been standing there before him in person.  She was far away, though, somewhere deep in the Jovian system, exactly where
, he could only guess.