The Machinery of Light (40 page)

“Aha,” says Sarmax

“What order are we going to try this in?” says Jarvin.

“All at once,” says Spencer.

T
his is the place Sarmax hid from Carson,” says Haskell.

“He hoped to use it again someday.”

“How’d you find out about it?”

“Would you believe he told me?”

The elevator stops. They’ve gone as far down as they can go. One of the marines leads the way onto the catwalk; the other follows Szilard and Haskell as they move toward the intersection of catwalks at the center.

“Actually,” says Haskell, “I would.”

If Sarmax thought it could be used as a tool against Carson, anything’s possible. And if this place does what she suspects it’s about to—

T
hey move out into a deserted hangar. Equipment’s everywhere but nothing looks flyable. Or even useful, for that matter. This stuff is from a bygone era.

“We’re off the beaten track,” says Maschler.

“We’re going even farther,” says Lynx. “You ready, Strom?”

“Assuming Maschler and Riley are ready to run point,” says the Operative.

Maschler and Riley look at him. “Sure,” says Riley.

“What route?” says Maschler.

“We’ll tell you as we go,” says Lynx.

H
ow does this work?” says Sarmax.

“You get in one of these alcoves,” says Spencer. “You first.”

“There’s something I need to do first,” says Spencer—starts working the console. The fact that it’s totally unintuitive matters not in the slightest when he’s already hacked the instruction manual—the manual that sat at the heart of the Kremlin for all
that time, the one that Jarvin almost found. But not quite—and now Spencer’s the one who’s calling the shots. He keys in the last of the sequence. There’s a low rumbling hum. The alcoves light up, shimmer with a strange energy.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he says.

T
he pillar at the center of the room is a strange kind of metal Haskell can’t identify, without evidence of grooves or bolts. It looks more organic than mechanic. She’s got a funny feeling it’s made of the same substance as the rails that run along the floor and ceiling. She walks up to it.

“Don’t touch it,” says Szilard.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing,” she says.

T
hey head through corridors that look like they could use some maintenance. It’s mostly dark, save for their own sensors. They’re seeing no one. Maschler’s voice comes through on the group channel:

“What are you expecting?” he asks.

“Surprises,” says Lynx.

The men on point get the message. They shut up. For now, at any rate. They keep on cautiously leading the way, Lynx and Carson following, Linehan walking backward, bringing up the rear. He figures that if anything was following them, it probably would have made its move by now. But he doesn’t know for sure. He watches the passageway recede, hears Riley’s voice echo in his head:

“Lights. Up ahead.”

S
pencer walks calmly into one of the flickering alcoves.

Jarvin does the same. Sarmax simply stands there.

“Move,”
says Jarvin.

“Why?” says Sarmax.

“What the hell’s your problem?”

“You guys really think you’re going to pull this off?”

“Got an alternative?” says Spencer.

“Take over this ship,” replies Sarmax. “Drive it into deep space.”

“And do what?” asks Jarvin.

“Live in splendid isolation.”

“Without your precious Indigo?” says Spencer.

Sarmax stares at him.

“She’s still alive,” adds Spencer.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Better hurry if you want to find out.”

Sarmax walks into an alcove. There’s a blinding flash.

Y
ou do
not
want to turn this thing on,” says Haskell.

“It’s not a question of what I
want,”
says Szilard.

Haskell can see the president isn’t wasting any time. While he’s talking, he’s operating controls via wireless—she feels a low hum pass through her suit. Far overhead, the ceiling-rail starts flickering, along with the rail below. But nothing seems to be happening to the pillar. The humming intensifies.

“I’m begging you,” she says.

“You think I’m walking into Sarmax’s trap?”

“Try Sinclair’s.”

T
hey’ve come through into an area of the war-sat that looks to be a lot better maintained. The lighting’s a lot more reliable. There’s an open door up ahead. Emanating from within is a noise that sounds a lot like someone’s fingers hitting a keyboard.

“Hmmm,” says Lynx.

“No shooting unless I say otherwise,” says the Operative.

“Now he tells us,” says Riley—gestures. Maschler moves through the doorway, guns at the ready.

T
he flash dies away. Spencer blinks, adjusts his vision. Looks at the alcove he’s in—at the room beyond that. It looks exactly the same as it did before. He feels like a jet engine just went through his head. Dust is everywhere. A lot of it looks like it just got blasted from the alcoves.

“What do you mean she’s still alive?” says Sarmax.

“I don’t think this worked,” says Jarvin.

S
inclair
wants
you to switch this on,” says Haskell.