Rubicon, page 24
Brigham grunted. “Well, get the rest fuckin’ turned on. We’re gonna have to make this as quick as possible.”
Kato complied, spinning back to the rack and continuing to power up the cores.
“Gal,” Brigham said. “What’s overwatch say?”
“My Rubicon just pinged the network—one sec … Looks like the system wants a cancel code.”
Kato called over his shoulder, “No way. We can’t generate one in time.”
“It’s for mainframe security,” Gallagher clarified. “So only this sector of the station will be compromised. It’s going off one way or the other in … looks like about eleven minutes.”
“Shit,” Kato huffed. “I need at minimum thirty. Just to get one drive’s worth.”
“Can’t you just grab nine minutes’ worth?” Brigham asked.
Kato shook his head. “No, that’s not how these drives work. They go in stages and take staggered packets in large chunks—part of the encryption method.”
Brigham rubbed the top of his helmet with a grumbling sigh. “Fuck. Okay, I’m calling it. Back to the ship.”
// Wait. //
“Wait,” Adriene said.
Brigham spun to face her. “Why?”
Yeah, why?
// We can do it. We can download it. //
“Sergeant?” Brigham prompted.
Kato said the drive’s too slow—
// Not the drive. You and I. We need at most, five minutes. //
Adriene swallowed.
// There is no time, trust—//
“It can do it,” she found herself saying, then cleared her throat and focused on the red glow of Brigham’s visor. “Er, my Rubicon can. It can download the data, sir.”
“Uh…” Kato let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Rubie does not concur.”
“How?” Brigham asked, tone clipped.
“I … I honestly don’t know, sir. It’s assuring me it can do it, though—it’s not a sanctioned procedure, but it’ll work. We’ll get the data in a fraction of the time.”
Silence hung heavy in the air as her squadmates stared at her.
“Mira’s end,” Kato cursed. “What did Daroga put in that pathfinder module?”
Brigham’s thick hands clenched to fists.
// Remember what compels him. //
Adriene stepped to face Brigham squarely, threading persuasion into her tone. “There’s only one way to keep this streak going. You have to let me try.”
Kato gaped. “No way. What if—”
Brigham held up a hand to quiet him. Kato crossed his arms.
Gallagher’s green pip lit. “She does have a new Rubicon, sir,” she put in. “With a brand-new module. Maybe she can do it.”
Brigham assessed Adriene for a few long moments, then growled, “Kato, Gallagher, get to the ship, ASAP. Prep for subspace—”
“Sir, you don’t need to stay,” Adriene tried to squeeze in, but Brigham ignored her.
“—entry, but leave us the fuck behind if the thing’s gonna blow before we’re back.”
Gallagher approached, tone firm. “Sir, let me stay instead.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking.”
Brigham’s shoulders swelled, but he didn’t respond.
“Valero’s right,” Gallagher continued. “The reward is worth the risk. Besides, I owe you one, remember?”
“Fucking hell, Gal. Fine. But I want you both out safely in five minutes—with or without the data.”
Gallagher nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“We’ll bring the ship around to the aft entrance. Meet us there.” Brigham looked back to Kato. “Move out, Sergeant.”
Kato hesitated briefly, then picked up the keystone and passed it to Adriene. “Good luck, Ninety-Six.” He jogged into the hallway.
“Five minutes,” Brigham stressed, then followed Kato out.
“Okay, Valero…” Gallagher grumbled, turning to face her. “This better work.”
// It will. //
Adriene turned to the server rack, sucking in a deep breath.
Okay, what the hell do I do?
// First, get rid of that. //
Adriene glanced down at the hard drive Kato had given her. She briefly considered disputing it, but a flicker of rapidly declining numbers in her HUD meted out the estimated time before self-destruct. No time to argue. She tossed the drive.
// There is an access panel behind the sliding door. //
With a grunt, Adriene shoved the rack cover closed, revealing a square metal crevice inlaid in the steel wall. She wormed her fingers into the gap and yanked, but it held fast.
“Help me pull this free.”
Gallagher joined, working her fingers under the other side of the panel. Together, they gripped both sides, then ripped the warped panel away, exposing a mess of circuitry and wires.
// There should be a small silver cube mounted about one half meter back. //
I don’t like words like “should” right now.
// There is a ninety-eight point five six percent probability that there will be a small silver cube—//
All right, Mira’s ashes …
Adriene shoved aside the wiring and reached in, fishing back and around until her glove grazed a warm, sharp-edged object, slightly larger than the palm of her hand.
// That is it. Establish solid contact with your glove. //
She gripped the cube firmly.
// This might become difficult to endure. I will instruct the sergeant to render aid if needed. Please do not worry, the lining of her suit will protect her. //
Wait. Protect her from what?
An icy-hot spike shot from the cube up Adriene’s arm and into her neck, crashing into the base of her brain. Her vision exploded in a flash of white.
Spears of pain fired along her taut muscles, like razor-sharp thorns tearing at her flesh. Her arm cramped and her elbow bent of its own accord; instead of wrenching her hand free, the force pulled her closer into the hot nest of wiring. The flow of current held her solid—she couldn’t let go if she wanted to.
She knew that should worry her, but she was in too much agony.
More pangs of pain bit into her seizing muscles as her vision brightened. She bit down, and her mouth filled with iron-tinged saliva.
Her legs gave way, and Gallagher’s arms tightened around her, striving to hold her upright. Gallagher yelled something, but Adriene couldn’t understand. Her brain was inundated—complete sensory overload, like a thousand audio feeds playing back at once, looping over each other, blending into unintelligible chaos.
Except she could see it—coarse, electrostatic streams of information assaulting her neurons without separation, without pause; an endless deluge of data.
A kaleidoscope of deformed shapes twisted stark against the darkness on the back of her eyelids. It took a few painful seconds to realize what they were: the actual symbols that comprised the code.
She had no idea what they meant. They slowly transformed until the structure faded away and only sensations remained—approximations of words and feelings.
>>> first sickness then sickness and death those who are born are born weak those who know [value_missing] it means extinction rebellion [value_missing] ordinance strictly enforced too constricting to ensure survival at the cost of free will to the stars [value_missing] <<<
More pain wrung the breath from Adriene’s lungs as understanding dawned. Her Rubicon was doing what it always did: turning data into stimuli. It was trying to craft real feelings and thoughts from the lines of code so her mind could perceive it. But it was too much—too maddening; she didn’t know how long she could endure it.
>>> to the stars but the stars were born empty [value_missing] <<<
“Turn—it—off,” she managed through clenched teeth. “The trans—lation—please—”
// Once more. //
Her vision disappeared into white. The constant pain seared like a molten spike thrust through her temples.
>>> hope simple concept difficult execution a new [value_missing] trial and error that costs too much but what use is pride when nothing remains [value_missing] again rebellion a new sheathe [value_missing] a new sheathe is all [value_missing. reset] a new sheathe is all that is needed <<<
In an instant, it all vanished—the pain, the wavering vision, the endless stream of disarrayed thoughts with no room for breath.
// It is done. //
Adriene tried to suck in a breath, but the sweltering air stuck thick in her throat.
“Valero!” Gallagher’s tone came clipped over comms. She lowered Adriene to the floor and held the sides of her helmet between her hands. “Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”
Adriene clamped her eyes shut to try to steady the spinning room. “I’m … I’m okay. I got it.”
“The fuck you did—how? It’s been like sixty seconds. You didn’t even have the hard drive…”
Adriene peeled her eyes open, past the vague green outline of Gallagher’s form, up to the corrugated metal ceiling. Her face twitched as a bead of sweat escaped her suit’s wicking system and rolled into the corner of her eye.
Sixty seconds?
// Seventy-three. Data upload rates of the human brain appear to be … //
He kept talking, but Adriene ignored him.
Data upload. Upload.
You … You uploaded it? Into my fucking brain?
// What did you think I was going to do? //
“I don’t know!” she shouted.
Gallagher flinched. “Valero—what?”
Adriene growled and tried to sit up, but her muscles wouldn’t obey. A surge of pain fired between her temples.
>>> all that remains [value_missing] all that remains is mercy a new sheathe <<<
Her heart seized, eyes watery.
What the hell was that? I’m still seeing it—hearing, feeling, whatever.
// I am doing my best to subdue it, but it will not cease until the data has been removed. //
Kato’s voice crackled over comms. “Gal, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Rubie’s tellin’ me that even if the self-destruct is localized to the mainframe, the shock could cause collateral damage across the whole station. There’s a high risk of a breach in the containment housing for the singularity.”
“In other words,” Brigham cut in, “we could get sucked into a black hole. We gotta get the hell out of this system, fast.”
“Uh … yeah,” Kato said. “That.”
“Fuck,” Gallagher cursed. “Valero, we have to go. Can I move you?”
“Yeah,” Adriene forced out, her throat bone-dry.
Gallagher leaned down, and Adriene hooked an arm around her shoulders and hoisted her up. Another flash of white overtook Adriene’s vision.
>>> all that remains is trial and error [value_missing] <<<
The white faded, and they were already in the hallway. Adriene’s feet moved, instinctively helping, but Gallagher did the bulk of the work to haul her forward.
>>> trial and error insurgents nay extremists insert [value_missing] kill the infinite abyss <<<
Gallagher spoke from somewhere far away. “Sir, tell me you’re here.”
“Pulling up now—hatch is open, ready for pickup.”
>>> in divinity [value_missing. reset] in the endless fourth depth <<<
Adriene became weightless.
A wide steel door slid open, revealing a hovering slash of steel backdropped by an obsidian sea, shimmering dots of light dancing across the watery surface.
>>> in the endless fourth depth [value_missing] salvation lies <<<
“Ninety-Six, you read me?”
Adriene peeled her eyes open. In a sea of white light, lines of blue shifted. A door hissed closed, and her form became burdened with mass again.
>>> in rebirth salvation lies <<<
The torrent of data continued, and Adriene’s grasp on consciousness wilted. She tried, but her mind could no longer focus on anything physical. Too much data, too many memories. She couldn’t process it all, couldn’t even begin to.
“Vitals are strong, but she’s unresponsive.”
A hard-edged voice floated in. “Gal, what the fuck happened to her?”
“I have no idea. Just get us out of here.”
“Course set, entering subspace.”
Adriene’s stomach turned over and her insides compressed as the ship lurched forward and she fell fully into darkness.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
With a final stabbing spark of pain, the electrical charge faded from Adriene’s skin. Relief flooded her strained muscles.
// Transfer complete. //
“It’s done.”
Adriene peeled her eyes open.
West stood in front of her, and it took a second to focus on his steady gaze—half-hazel, half-flat ocular implant, and fully unreadable. Gray-flecked stubble lined his jaw, a dark bag under his single real eye. The metal augments covering his left side glinted in the blue-green glow from the screens of his nearby workstation.
Over half the monitors were lit with a flurry of activity. Adriene had no idea what any of it was, but the flashing worsened her pounding headache.
She withdrew her hand from the partly deconstructed hardsuit glove. West peeled the diodes from her temples and gathered the wiring he’d used to connect her to the glove, and thus to the console. He tossed the jury-rigged contraption aside.
Adriene closed her eyes again and her mind slid back into the flashes of data, attempting to grasp whatever fragments she could. She’d drifted in and out of consciousness a half dozen times after they fled the derelict station. While she was out, her mind had worked hard trying to piece the information together, create some kind of narrative she could understand. She still couldn’t make sense of most of what she’d seen and felt. Which was exceedingly frustrating. Like trying to recall a dream, only to have the details erode, but for ten thousand simultaneous dreams.
She slid off the stool. Her head swam, vision tilting, and she steadied herself on the edge of the counter.
West silently passed her a metal water bottle.
“Thanks…”
He turned to the console and hunched over one of the interface keyboards.
“So, it worked?” she asked. “You’ll be able to read the data?”
“I believe so, yes,” West rumbled in his low, gravelly timbre. “It seems to have been an effective method of data transfer…” He shook his head, then mumbled to himself, “If not incredibly dangerous.”
Her jaw flexed, anger directed inward.
Dangerous? Incredibly dangerous? You told me it was safe.
// I ran dozens of risk assessments before proceeding. The major’s concern is unfounded. I would not have put your life in danger. //
Okay, but what about my mind? And you promised you wouldn’t lie to me again.
// I did not lie. Informing you of what the transfer process would entail was not only superfluous but a risk in itself. It could have triggered hesitation, creating a barrier that may have impeded the speed—and safety—of the transfer. //
Adriene ground her teeth. You’re missing the point. I know you’re just trying to accomplish West’s objectives, but—
// No. That is not what I am doing. //
What?
// Nothing I do is for his sake. //
I’m pretty sure everything you do is for his sake. He created you.
// That fact is irrelevant. I am only trying to accomplish the major’s objective because that is what you want. I exist to serve you, and you alone. West, unwittingly or no, gave me that choice when he granted me sentience. //
A weight sank into her stomach and she wavered.
A sharp metal tapping drew her attention outward, and she eyed West’s metal hand as it slid across a tablet screen. With a flick of white, her HUD disappeared. The inner void reopened in the base of her skull.
Her fingers drifted to her temple. “Uh, thanks,” she managed to croak out, assuming that was the appropriate response. Did the others really not want their Rubicons on all the time?
West blew out a long breath, then ran a hand through his hair. “You will want to consider limiting time spent with your Rubicon activated. I cannot say with certainty that your overheating issues will not resume if the implant is left on for too long. Particularly given the processes it has proven itself capable of. Your mind could easily become overtaxed again if you are not careful.”
“I understand, sir.”
West turned to face her, leaning against the edge of the workstation. The fingers of his metal hand quivered, clacking lightly against the countertop. He made a fist to steady the tremor, brow lining deep.
Another aggravated grimace, as if constantly on the verge of agony, concealing some unseen affliction. Strangely, it seemed to be his cybernetic side that hurt.
“As far as this approach of…” West glanced at one of the data streams on the monitors over his shoulder. “… using your mind as a hard drive—do not utilize that method again. It was a risk—a significant risk.” His metal fingers buzzed lightly as he unclenched his fist. “This had the potential to do long-lasting neural damage. Issues that may have even transferred into a new husk, should you have rezoned.”
Adriene wrung the metal water bottle between her palms. Flashes of Harlan’s limp hand flickered into the back of her mind. She hadn’t thought about what might have happened if she’d rezoned while so disconnected from her own mind. She’d never experienced it herself, but she’d heard rumors of failed takes. The result was never pleasant. Some got stuck in transfer loops, shifting from husk to husk on an endless circuit, techs scrambling to find some way to break the cycle. Or even worse, pseudocoma—awake, conscious, but unable to move or speak. An active mind inside a paralyzed husk. You could zero out, only to end up in the same state again.
Which was why, when the time came, the method she used to end her rezones had to be a sure one.
West exhaled a heavy breath. “The other teams did not return with much. Your success may be all we take away from this initiative. I am impressed by your dedication, Sergeant. I did not expect you to be willing to abide such trauma.”
