The Whisper of Stars (25 page)

Should she tie him up? Leave him here? What if she didn’t make it back? He could die.

She eyed a branch, nestled amongst the bigger logs. It was just thin enough to wield, long and hard enough to use as a club. She picked it up and for a brief moment imagined striking him. The man turned, frowned, shook his head and continued to throw logs like they were made of paper. It was amazing how much connection could be made through simple body language.

She knew it was pure luck that he’d found her. If he hadn’t come along she would be dead, buried in thick snow. She sighed and added the potential weapon to the growing pile, knowing her decision might have serious repercussions.

It was a risk she was willing to take. She wasn’t a killer.

She wasn’t like Zitagi.

* * *

The news report echoed through the only occupied room in the Zvezda Hotel, Tolyatti, like a lone transmission drifting through deep space. The correspondent’s voice became choppy as the picture sliced through the middle and then disappeared completely. There had been another attack on a Hibernation zone in Italy somewhere, a resistance group known as The Liberation.
Nathan stared at the blank screen, watching his breath travel slowly towards the window, which was covered in swirling crystal patterns of blue and white ice.

The blizzard, which had hit Tolyatti two days ago, had frozen the place solid. Since then the power had been intermittent and a cluster of electric heaters, strategically positioned around him, worked just long enough to keep him alive. That morning, dreams of happier times had been stolen by the burden of waking. He’d been holding his wife, hugging her, telling her she would be okay. Some days it just didn’t make sense. All their history, the world they had made together, was his now. His alone. They would never look back on it together. He’d woken in the cold silence and allowed himself a few minutes to cry before wiping the tears roughly from his face.

The day before he’d visited the kitchen to order food and found it deserted, that staff nowhere to be seen. He searched and in the end managed to make a cheese sandwich. Sitting in front of the bar heater, defrosting it just enough to eat, he’d considered whether he could drag a generator up to his room.

Room? More like a tomb
.

He had spent the day testing equipment and trying the radio, a close-range, encrypted transmitter. Old technology that would only work when Jen was near. Every hour on the hour, nothing but static. He didn’t want to consider what might have happened. She would make it somehow. He thought about what to say when she did make contact. How would he break it to her? That without power he could do nothing?

He checked the temperature again – minus forty – and told himself not to think too much. The power returned, briefly illuminating the room before flickering out. It came again and then remained constant, the orange bars glowing on the multiple heaters surrounding him. In distant rooms he heard the whirring sounds of frozen machinery struggling back to life. It was surprising how quiet a hotel could be without the forces of energy running through its metal veins.

Making the most of the sudden power, he accessed his computer. Hacking the Shiryaevo mainframe would only be possible from the inside, but he could do some preparation. Local networks all led to a single exchange point. He could at least be ready, crouched, like a sprinter waiting for the gun.

He checked the Vaults blueprint again, and Jen’s route marked out through its multicoloured wireframe corridors.

Nothing to do now but wait. He checked local weather reports. The blizzard was subsiding but temperatures were set to remain, not quite the coldest the area had known, but close.
Close enough to freeze to death,
his mind assured him. The fear of failure washed through him again and he thought back to Brazil. The oppressive, dusty heat seemed strangely appealing now and he imagined just a few seconds of it, burning his lungs. It would be worth it, he decided, wondering if he would ever see his old body.

Suddenly the radio buzzed, three vibrating alerts sending the device dancing across the tabletop in front of him. Nathan let out a shocked, guttural cry and grabbed wildly at the radio, sending it crashing to the floor. He leapt up, relieved to see it intact, and entered the passkey.

‘Are you there?’ he shouted.

Nothing but static.

‘Jen, are you there?’ he asked again, desperate this time.

‘I’m here,’ she replied.

A huge sigh escaped him. ‘Are you okay? You’re late.’

‘I ran into some trouble.’

‘I was worried. Where are you?’

‘Near the entrance, freezing my arse off.’

The sarcasm was obvious and he was relieved to hear it. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the idea of losing her had been gnawing away at his loneliness since arriving in Russia. Some of his dreams had been about her, about them.

‘When do we go?’ he asked, praying the power would remain constant.

Her answer came without hesitation. ‘We go in now.’

Chapter 46

The freezing fog finally lifted and Jen could see the ridged peak of the mountain and the snaking silvery river Volga in the distance. The Zhiguli hydroelectric dam supplied the majority of the Vault’s power demand and its distant hum assured her she must be close. It was a relief. The terrain was treacherous underfoot and she wasn’t sure her legs – stiffening horribly against the cold – would last another day.

She descended awkwardly down the west face of the mountain, kicking up clouds of dusty snow into the ravine behind her until she reached her target: a large heat vent, around twenty feet in diameter, belching thick clouds of steam into the air like a boiling kettle. She scrambled down and knelt beside it for a while, enjoying the heat prickling her skin, breathing life back into her hands. Leaning over the edge, through a cross-hatch of thick metal bars and barely visible, she saw an access shaft and a ladder wrapped inside a safety cage. There was no way to open the vent from here; she would unlock it later from the inside. After a brief rest she stuffed her rucksack beneath a nearby rock, making mental notes of her location. Her plan was to exit here, retrieve her bag and slip away undetected.

Warmed and lighter, she continued, the strength returning to her legs along with a quiet optimism. The sun finally cut through the basin below her, revealing what she had come so far to see.
 

The Shiryaevo Vault, its glistening stone structure rising from the white mountain, bathed in glowing security lights.
 

Jen calculated her position. The visitor centre was clearly visible, surrounded by a high-gated fence and intersected by roads and car parks. Vehicles inched in convoy towards the main entrance and people, tiny and scattered, made their way in the misty morning gloom. The vault was a huge installation, the biggest of its kind in the world, and the majority of the facility was buried deep inside the mountain. What could be seen from here was just the tip of the iceberg.

The vault operated a three-tiered security protocol; the deeper you went the more secure it became. Tier one: numerous guards and patrol droids – they would require authorisation before firing – as well as scanners and motion sensors. Security checkpoints dotted every hundred feet or so. Tier-one guards would be friendly, carry sidearms only and be used to dealing with the workforce. Inside would be technical administration, home to hundreds of civilian workers and analysts. Beyond that was tier two security, heavily armed guards patrolling the miles of tunnels and corridors and automated systems protecting the data chambers. Finally, tier three, the critical zones. Government level. Where the secrets were kept. Here, the guards would shoot to kill and ask questions later, doors would be timed and security systems compartmentalised with safety lock-outs. Armed military droids would be programmed to make life-or-death decisions. It was the kind of security you could trust, the kind megacorporations and governments paid big money for, the kind terrorists would never get near.

Jen had been involved occasionally with counterterrorism units, and it always impressed her how organised and aware these teams appeared to be and yet how seemingly unprepared they were when a new threat arrived. Even with all the planning and preparation and vigilance, terrorists always seemed to manage to circumvent their countermeasures. Jen hoped that the Histeridae was another example of that: something this facility was never designed to cope with, something they never could have imagined. For the Histeridae to give her an edge, the vault’s weakness needed to be human. That’s how she would get inside, and once there, Nathan would do the rest.

Fifty feet from the road she heard the sound of trees being pushed aside by something big, something gathering speed. A red dot flashed through the branches in front of her and then settled on her chest.

‘I’ve been picked up as expected,’ she said to Nathan.

‘Okay, good luck. Talk again when you’re inside.’

‘You’re sure they can’t hear us?’

‘This tech is nearly thirty years old. They stopped listening for it a long time ago. And even if they did, it’s all secure, all encrypted. Trust me.’

Even though being found was part of the plan, Jen couldn’t help feeling technology could let them down. A droid appeared hovering above her, twice the size of a person, its dark orange jets melting the snow into pools of water below. It explained that she was in a restricted area and must be processed immediately.

She followed the droid along the perimeter fence, noting the less-than-expected number of personnel. Passing trucks were only half filled and the car parks the same. The conditions, it seemed, had reduced the vault to a skeleton crew, and whilst they were shipping people in, it was a slow process. Jen smiled. The weather might have worked in their favour after all.

* * *

Ahead Jen could see two guards approaching, side arms still holstered but body language that suggested they wouldn’t be for long. The taller of the two – the one who appeared to be in charge – was shaking his arms, instructing Jen to stop. He spoke quickly in Russian while the smaller, stockier one eyed her suspiciously. With language augmentation she would have understood them immediately. Without it, she had no idea what they were saying.

‘Do you speak English?’ she asked, feeling antiquated.

‘Of course,’ the tall guard replied sharply in a thick Russian accent. ‘Stand still and be scanned.’

The droid moved closer. ‘Remove your scarf,’ it instructed, in a deep metallic voice. ‘Prepare for scanning.’

A retina scan was to be expected, but Jen had hoped to get nearer first, to maybe give Nathan access to the security systems, a chance to change her results. It was earlier than planned, but there was nothing else she could do. She took a deep breath and accessed the Histeridae.

The short guard growled something in Russian, obviously confused and uncomfortable. Jen ignored him. In some ways it was a relief to be using the device again, to finally be on the offensive. She networked the guards together and began persuading them.

< I am with a team of technicians here to complete routine maintenance, but we became lost in the storm. >

The droid moved closer and repeated its request. Jen could feel the humming vibration of its metallic body. It would have a concealed taser.

‘No, is okay,’ the tall guard said, overruling the droid in broken English. ‘Follow me. I get you to security desk. You need to check in.’

The droid pulled back and immediately continued its designated patrol accompanied by the stocky guard, who only looked back once.

Jen followed the taller guard. He seemed relaxed, unfazed by her use of the Histeridae, and Jen was aware of her growing ability to control and function simultaneously. She wondered if perhaps her experience with the bird, albeit brief, had taught her something. If she concentrated, she could see through the host’s eyes, in this case
see
what the guard was
seeing
. It was a form of split concentration that was becoming easier the more she practiced.

Ahead was the main entrance, an ugly lump of construction built directly into the rock with a revolving steel doorway in the centre. Jen instinctively slipped her hand inside her pocket and felt for the data transmitter. Presuming she could get inside, it would give Nathan access to the security system.

She turned to the guard accompanying her.

< I’m going to need a security pass,>
she explained silently.

‘We arrange that inside,’ the guard replied, apparently not realising she hadn’t spoken.

Jen continued walking. There were more people now, and cameras, scanning and watching. Two armed guards stood at the doorway checking the odd pass as people flooded in and out. She knew if they became suspicious things could get complicated very quickly.

Jen suggested.

The guard stopped and handed it to her.

< You can forget about this now, it doesn’t matter. Okay? >

Jen watched him until he was back at the perimeter fence and then carefully retracted the Histeridae’s tendrils from his mind. Ahead she could see a short queue of people disappearing into the building, swiping their passes across a panel to the side of the main door. She joined them, her face still covered. It was fast and there was no time to think before it was her turn. She swiped her stolen ID card across the reader, her heart pounding. The panel flashed green. She walked past the guards, through the rotating glass door and into the building.

The lobby reminded her of airport security, cold and clinical with paneled steel walls and a polished stone floor. The sound of heels and voices was mixed with polite announcements and the whir of scanning machinery. Ahead she saw a row of turnstiles, and beyond that a number of larger scanners where a group of people were being processed. It looked to be retinal scans and breath tests. To her left, a long reception desk, and to her right, a canteen with corridors leading off in various directions. She estimated there were about twenty people in the reception area, another thirty or so in the canteen, and spotted at least six armed guards: four covering the scanners and two more ahead.