Authors: Sean Williams,Shane Dix
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Space Opera
The Prodigal Sun (18 page)
The Surin nodded.
The Surin shook her head, and the petrified Enforcer took one hesitant step forward, then another. The three of them reached the building’s vacant doorway just as the storm reclaimed the area. As the howling wind descended, Roche thought she heard the Mbatan calling for her again.
The Surin thought for a moment, then said:
Roche felt for the concealed tabs, found them, and pulled until they clicked. With a hiss, the helmet unsealed and fell forward, revealing the shaved head of a female Enforcer, her eyes staring vacantly. Roche raised the butt of her rifle and brought it down on the back of the Enforcer’s skull, knocking her unconscious.
The suit shuddered but stayed upright, held immobile by emergency overrides.
Roche did so, and the ceramic armor parted along invisible lines like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. The slabs of armor lifted outward a centimeter, then remained in that position, awaiting her next move. The air inside stank of sweat and fear, and aging rubber seals.
With Maii’s help, Roche managed to wrestle the limp Enforcer out of the suit’s intimate embrace through a sliding panel in the back. The interior was black and uninviting, a nest of glistening cables and contacts with holes for limbs to pass through.
Roche eyed the interior with distaste, but she had little choice. Slipping her left arm out of the bandages, wincing every time she moved her shoulder, she stepped into the suit. Maii slung the briefcase across her back, out of the way, and stepped back.
The moment her left hand made contact with the palm-link, the armor came to life.
Roche shrugged herself into a more comfortable position and felt the armor imitate the motion. Reaching up with her gloved right hand, she ripped the helmet from its hinge on the chest-plate and threw it aside.
Taking an experimental step forward, she felt the seductive strength of the power-assist echo through her limbs. She hadn’t used combat armor more than a couple of times in her career, but the old moves came back to her with ease. Although mindful not to shift her left arm more than was absolutely necessary, she began to feel confident for the first time in days.
Together they left the building and headed out into the storm. The Surin called out directions, using mental images of the town to find her way and her epsense abilities to target Enforcers through the dust. Four armored suits fell to Roche’s percussion rifle before word of the rogue spread through the Enforcement communication network. Then the uneven rumble of the troop carrier began to grow louder again, and the dust agitated more violently than ever, stirred by the field-effects of the craft above. Maii led her away from danger, deeper into the cloud.
They passed Cane moments later. His nimble form appeared out of the gloom, poised to strike her, but he realized who she was in time. He relaxed, made a gesture that might have been a salute but one Roche didn’t recognize, and stepped back. He had acquired both a percussion rifle and a bloody gash across his forehead. His manner, although outwardly relaxed, was urgent.
“There are too many of them!” He had to shout to be heard over the sound of the troop carrier. “The others are holed up not far from here, and the big ship is on its way.”
“What weapons do they have?”
“A handful of rifles. I’ve tried to pass on the ones I’ve come across, but...” He shrugged. “It hasn’t been easy, and the charges on the ones they have won’t last forever.”
Roche imagined Cane flitting through the dust like a demon, reaching out of the gloom to snatch rifles from the hands of the Enforcers, then vanishing again. His major problem, as had been Roche’s, was locating the others. It was all very well to have found weapons, but no use at all if he couldn’t distribute them,
“Okay,” she said, intending to ask him to lead the way, but getting no farther than that.
The vision through her left eye suddenly shifted, becoming clear. She blinked furiously, then realized that the Box was feeding her an external image taken from above the storm, or from a clear space within it. It showed the city not far below, moving slowly past. Armored Enforcers darted from building to building through the streets, converging on an area just inside the clear space.
With a jolt of surprise, she realized that the view was taken from one of the turret guns on the troop carrier itself.
An auxiliary view showed the airspace above the city. To her shock she saw not one flyer but five, circling the area like birds of prey, waiting for an opportunity to move in.
Furious sparks of light reached upward out of the clouds toward the troop carrier from a low building at the edge of a small courtyard. This, she assumed, was the work of the rebels. As she watched, her aerial view swiveled to focus on the building, and zoomed in to aim.
“The others are in trouble,” she said, blinking the view aside for a moment to focus on the world around her. “The troop carrier’s arrived. We have to hurry.”
Cane nodded and moved off. “Follow me.”
Roche lumbered after him, grateful for the power-assist enabling her to keep up. Maii sprinted behind, barely maintaining the pace.
The dust swirled around them, and the omnipresent rumble of the troop carrier reached a mind-numbing peak. Suddenly, and without warning, the three of them burst into clear air. Two Enforcers stood between them and the building, firing burst after burst at the roof where the others were hidden. Roche tackled one from behind while Cane tipped the other off balance. A third appeared from around the corner of a building, but Maii was quick to act and kept the Enforcer frozen until Cane could bring his weapon to bear.
Gasping, Roche looked around and up. The troop carrier had descended to a point not ten meters above the building. Turrets pumped powerful bolts of energy into the stone walls, sending short-lived blossoms of rock into the air. Sporadic fire lashed up at it from windows and smashed walls, as the rebels tried to fight back—but the superior weaponry of the troop carrier forced the defenders back under cover an instant later.
Behind her, two flyers swooped low over the city to lend the troop carrier support. They too concentrated their fire on the building.
Roche took one step forward, not certain what she was going to do but knowing she had to try something. Before she could fire a single shot, the Box suddenly whispered in triumph:
Seconds later the troop carrier stopped firing and banked to the left, turning away from the building. Its turrets swiveled wildly, searching the earth below and the sky above. Lances of energy speared the air, striking a handful of locations in the city. Two higher bolts connected with the nearest of the two flyers, sending it spinning out of control. The high-tech arrowhead dipped low, bucked for control, then clipped an ancient building. With a shriek of engines, it crashed out of sight and exploded in a crimson and yellow fireball.
Roche watched, stunned.
The battle below halted for a moment at the sudden reversal. Soon, though, the rebels took advantage of what must have been to them a mysterious turn of events. Firing at the Enforcers below, they began to clear the area for their escape. Likewise the underbelly turrets of the troop carrier picked out individual Enforcers, striking them from above.
Within moments, the Enforcers retaliated. The four remaining flyers swooped low to blast the treacherous troop carrier, while individual Enforcers fired from shelter underneath. The carrier was too bulky to successfully dodge the concentrated fire; only its heavy armor prevented it from being destroyed immediately. First one and then another of its underbelly turrets exploded, but not before a second flyer had been downed and perhaps ten more Enforcers shot from above.
With a bone-wrenching lurch, it ducked away, and the storm rushed into the area once more.
Roche looked around.
Under heavy fire from the remaining flyers, the troop carrier spun in a lazy arc above the town. Its starboard flank was ablaze, and deep craters pitted its armored surface. Two of its gun turrets still functioned, however, and with these it managed to down another flyer. The heavy crunch of impact and subsequent explosion were nearly enough to make Roche stumble. The two remaining flyers darted away, then returned a moment later. Furious bolts lashed at the troop carrier’s damaged flank, making it shudder. The steady rumble of its engines began to waver.
“It’s going to blow!” Roche watched breathlessly as the troop carrier banked sharply to starboard, its injured side seeming to drag it down from the sky. Its remaining firepower surged at the most distant flyer, damaging it. The last one darted closer, preying on the hulk’s damaged state. The rumble of the field-effect became a whine, and the troop carrier began to slow. Drifting in a sluggish circle, it passed over the area where the rebels were fleeing. The distinct dots of the dozen remaining Enforcers appeared out of the dust, doggedly pursuing the rebels. At that moment, Roche guessed what the Box was going to do and dragged the others to cover.
The last flyer dipped dangerously close to the troop carrier, strafing its bulk with concentrated fire. Suddenly the carrier banked again, this time swinging sharply around its center of gravity to bring its nose in line with the flyer’s trajectory. With a flash of flame, the two collided, and the rumble of engines ceased altogether. Roche’s view through the carrier began to fade, but not before she glimpsed the milling Enforcers rising up at her, slowly at first, but with increasing speed.
“Down!” She leapt for an open doorway, dragging Maii after her. Cane was a step ahead of them, rolling for safety within the stone walls.
With an earthshaking bellow of tortured metal, the crippled troop carrier crashed nose-first into the town. Its stricken power plant instantly exploded, enveloping everything around it in a ball of fiery heat. The shock wave flattened buildings, killed the Enforcers nearby despite their combat armor, and expanded at the speed of sound through the streets toward the building where Roche and the others had taken shelter.
The wall collapsed, and would have crushed Roche’s legs but for her stolen suit. Fragments of molten metal and glowing stone rained down on the rubble. For an instant, everything was white, even through her closed eyelids. Then something else, an uncomfortable mix of panic and grief, washed through her, causing her to shudder.
Roche wanted to bury her head in her hands as the cries intensified, but her position in the armor didn’t allow her any movement. All she could do was lie there, pinned to the ground, screaming as Maii’s hysterical anger burned ferociously, relentlessly, in her mind.
<
No!
>
PART THREE:
PORT PARVATI
10
DBMP
Ana Vereine
‘954.10.31 EN
1810
In the wake of the transmission from Port Parvati, a deathly silence fell.
On the main screen, a satellite view of the mountain range known as Behzad’s Wall replayed the explosion of the troop carrier in slow motion. The brilliant flash of light was followed by a billowing bubble of dust and superheated air, rising upward and obscuring the town. When it had passed, the storm once again enfolded the region. Like a blanket cast from the sky, the dust smothered the fires and enveloped the damage as though nothing had ever changed the eternal stillness of the doomed city.
“Summarize the report,” Kajic said to Atalia Makaev, when the video had finished. His hologram did not turn to face her.
“It would appear that—”
“In as few words as possible, if you please.” He kept his tone carefully controlled and even.
Makaev swallowed. “They have escaped, sir.”
“Succinctly put, Atalia.” Kajic killed the main screen and faced his second in command. “I can only be grateful that your analysis of the situation is not correct.”
Makaev frowned. “Sir, the warden’s report is quite clear.” She paused, obviously conscious that her remarks bordered on the insubordinate. “Evidence recovered from the wreckage of the lander has established that there were at least four people on board—two Pristines, an Eckandi, and possibly one Surin—yet the search team has found no traces of their bodies. The battle we have just witnessed, along with the disappearance of the recon team, strongly suggests that surface intransigents—”
“Nevertheless”—Kajic’s voice washed smoothly over hers—”the fugitives have
not
escaped.”
“Sir?”
“They remain on Sciacca’s World, do they not?” The question did not require a response, nor did Kajic wait for one. “Commander Roche is obviously aware that the wardens are unsympathetic to her cause, or else she would have surrendered herself to the port upon planetfall. She must therefore know that she is unable to leave the planet by official means, and has thus allied herself with the local underground in order to escape.” Kajic smiled. “All we have to do is ensure that she cannot.”
“Naturally, but—”
“To that end,” he continued, “you will place the
Ana Vereine
in a geosynchronous orbit directly above Port Parvati. Any craft attempting to reach orbit from the landing field will be boarded and searched.” He hesitated before adding, “Or destroyed in transit.”
“But sir, this directly contravenes the—”
“Regardless.” Kajic’s image wavered slightly.
priority gold-one
“Nothing will leave Sciacca’s World without our permission until the AI and the commander are in our hands. Is this clear, Atalia?” Again there was no expectation of a response, and again Makaev did not offer one. The straightening of her posture alone conveyed her understanding. “You will arrange this with Warden Delcasalle,” Kajic said, “within the hour.”
“The cost will be enormous,” she protested.
Kajic’s smile widened. “Cost is meaningless when the stakes are this high,” he said. “Make sure the warden is aware of this. Let him know that I am prepared to raze the surface of Sciacca’s World to slag and sift through the ruins to find that AI.” He shrugged. “It is practically indestructible, after all. And this method would certainly save us a good deal of time and effort—not to mention money.” Kajic’s image froze momentarily, the only movement being the flicker of its light. Then: “When you have convinced him, dispatch one of our own teams to assist his incompetents in their search.”
“Yes, sir. I shall lead it myself.”
“No. Send Major Gyori. I prefer you here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
Makaev winced slightly—which gave him some gratification—but she kept her eyes fixed upon Kajic. “As you wish, sir.”
“Good. See to it immediately, then join me in the command module. I wish to speak with you privately.”
Kajic let his hologram dissipate and his mind retreat from the bridge with a feeling of immense relief. The energy required to maintain a semblance of confident control had been enormous. His thoughts were in turmoil, his confidence was only an act—and these were facts he wished to keep carefully to himself, not parade in front of the bridge crew. But anyone with access to the back door in his mainframe could browse through his most intimate details at will.
With half a mind he followed the activities of his senior officers as they prepared the ship for reorientation and thrust. His virtual senses reported the firing of attitude jets and the priming of the reaction drive. The slowly changing orientation of the stars kept him occupied for several seconds. The sight was peaceful, and reminded him of his true purpose.
Where had he failed? His ship ran well; not one major system had been compromised on this, the
Ana Vereine’s
maiden voyage. And with the superior ability he possessed to study crew as well as ship, he had suffered none of the minor dissensions many new captains endured on their first command. Ship, crew, and captain were all in perfect working order, a unified system operating under his command.
Yet, to his dismay, there
was
evidence that he had failed, and it was mounting steadily...
Priority C (stealth) had already been broken, and now, after the day’s events, priority B had followed. Despite his denial, Roche
had
escaped from the ambush and was roaming free somewhere on the planet. She was the only person within easy reach who might be able to explain the operation and purpose of the AI, but the chances of her being captured alive were diminishing by the second, and his desperation to meet the last priority increased proportionately. If he failed at this mission, regardless how he had performed every other aspect of his mission, his command, and therefore his life,
would
be terminated. He had no doubts about that. To the Ethnarch’s Military Presidium, there was only success or failure; there was nothing in between.
Priority A was all he had left to hope for now.
capture the AI
Destroying the planet to find it wasn’t really an option, as far as he was concerned. Even his mission wasn’t worth risking all-out war with the COE Armada, which would retaliate regardless of Port Parvati’s inherent corruption. But he had no choice: whatever he did, it would
work.
He would achieve his goal and satisfy the orders written into his mind, branded onto his thoughts. What other choice did he have?
His priorities were like steel bars enclosing his free will: contemplating even the slightest deviation caused him severe mental pain. He could not disobey his superiors in the Military Presidium even to save his own life. And, to make matters worse, he would not want to. No matter how he might rationalize the alternatives, he would sacrifice his own life to meet his orders, if the situation demanded it. Where might once have been written “Do what thou wilt,” now it read “
Obey
...”
Some minutes passed before Makaev came to meet him. When she did, he projected his image into an armchair and assumed a relaxed disposition.
“I received your message,” he said without preamble. The memo had arrived just moments before the data from the warden of Port Parvati, leaving him little time to ponder it. The timing had seemed a little too unlucky, which only made him all the more anxious. “A full report, please.”
“Yes, sir.” Makaev remained at attention, standing with her arms at her sides in the center of the room. If what he suspected was true, she hid it well. “During your last rest period, as you instructed, I ordered a technician to examine your life support.”
“And?”
She leaned over the desk to key a wall-screen. Complex schematics appeared, an endless series of lines and junctures scrolling from top to bottom. “The system matches the diagnostics in the
Ana Vereine’s
mainframe exactly, with only one exception. At the base of your brainstem interface, there is this.” The display zoomed in on one particular point, where a knot of biocircuits converged; highlighted in bold red was a denser clump, not unlike the network of fibers surrounding a dreibon root.
“The back door?” Kajic prompted.
“No, sir,” said Makaev. “At least the technician doesn’t believe so. The device is quite ingenious. It will lie dormant and not interfere with the overall system until it receives a coded command from an outside source.” Makaev paused, her eyes suddenly restless. “Upon receiving that command, it will immediately sever all communication between your brain stem and the ship’s mainframe.”
“A kill-switch?” said Kajic.
“That appears to be its purpose,” said Makaev. “Yes, sir.”
“But who would dare sabotage a warship in such a way?” His ship—his very being—had been compromised!
“With respect, sir,” Makaev said, “it is not sabotage. Although the device does not appear on the circuit diagrams we have access to, it is not an afterthought.” Again she paused. “It’s an integral aspect of the life support’s design.”
“Integral? What are you saying? That it cannot be removed without damaging the system?”
“No, sir. I’m saying that it’s
supposed
to be there.”
Kajic used every sense at his disposal to assure himself that she was being honest. All the data concurred: she was telling the truth. A truth that he feared, that brought his mind to a halt.
“Why?” he finally managed.
“I can hazard a guess, sir,” said his second in command, then waited for him to indicate that she should continue. He did so irritably. “It makes sense, sir, if you examine the ‘how’ of it first. The plans for your life support were approved by the Presidium itself. If such a device was deliberately included, then the decision to do so could have come from nowhere else. As to the ‘why,’ well, we must remember that you are a prototype, one that has never been field-tested in genuine combat before. Who could anticipate what might happen, or how you would respond to the pressures of battle? The kill-switch must be a safeguard against command instability. Were you to become unstable at a critical moment—and I am not suggesting that you have, or will—your actions could cripple the ship. The kill-switch could then come into play, freeing the command systems for another officer to employ.”
Kajic mulled it over. Yes, it made sense, and it mirrored almost exactly his first thoughts on the matter. Makaev put the case well. Too well for Kajic’s liking. If she was lying, then her only fault was that she was too convincing.
“So where does the command signal come from?” he asked, following the argument to its conclusion. “And who decides whether to send the command or not?”
“One would assume, sir, that a high-ranking officer would enact that decision. Perhaps not the person who would actually assume control of the ship,” she added quickly, “but someone at least who knows the truth and is in the correct position to act upon it.”
“Which could be anyone from the bridge crew,” he said. “Or even life support. Anyone, in fact, with access to the back door. He—or she—need not necessarily be high-ranking, either.”
She nodded. “That is true.”
“Nevertheless,” said Kajic, “regardless who actually
gave
the order, it would be you who would assume command of the
Ana Vereine
.”
Of my ship.
His unblinking image locked eyes with her, daring her to look away.
Of me.
She nodded. “Yes, sir. It would seem that I am the most likely candidate.”
“So tell me, Atalia,” he said coldly, “
are
you the betrayer? Are you the one waiting for the first opportunity to strike me down?”
“If I said I wasn’t, would you believe me?”
Kajic smiled, finding some pleasure in the confrontation. “I might,” he said. “But I still wouldn’t entirely trust you.” He broke the locked gaze, letting his smile dissipate as he glanced again at the circuit diagram. “Perhaps I shouldn’t even ask.”
“Perhaps.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “The only way to be sure is to watch every member of the senior crew as they go about their duties. Try to find the one who is acting suspiciously.”
“That might work,” he said. “But I am just like any other Pristine: I can only think one thing at a time; I am limited to one single point of view. And—”
priority gold-one
“And I have more important things to contemplate at the moment than my own personal survival.”
She absorbed this in silence—perhaps with relief—and he watched her closely while she did so. How true his words were: the data he required might have been at his fingertips, but he had neither the ability nor the freedom to study it. He could feel the priorities bending his thoughts subtly back to his mission. Even now, at such a moment, he was unable to take concrete steps to save his own life. To remove or to interfere with the deadly mechanism would be to disobey the Ethnarch’s Military Presidium itself.
“Atalia,” he said after a moment. “This conversation will be kept between ourselves. We will continue our mission as though nothing has changed.” What else
can
I do? he asked himself. The fact that the Presidium didn’t fully trust him—had never trusted him—could not be allowed to interfere with his duty. Otherwise it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy—which was, perhaps, exactly what Makaev intended by telling him about the kill-switch, if she truly was the betrayer at his side. She could just as easily have lied about it to protect herself. Instead, she had thrown him off balance by sowing the seeds of distrust in his mind...
“I agree, sir,” she said, killing the display before them. “When we have recovered the AI and completed our mission, perhaps then we can discuss the matter in more detail.”
Yes, he thought to himself, and in the meantime I have my neck on the line. The slightest mistake and—
“Atalia?”
“Sir?”
“Please reinforce with Major Gyori that our orders are to capture both the AI and its courier. I want those orders obeyed to the letter. I want Commander Roche taken
alive
.” That way, he hoped, he might be able to improve his position with his superiors when the
Ana Vereine
returned from the mission.
