Rubicon, page 40
“We can’t,” Daroga said, dejected. “The ship’s still on blackouts—stealth generator’s spooled, comms are disabled. There’s nothing getting out of this system—hell, off this planet—unless it’s through that ansible West’s hijacking.” His gaze drifted down, and his lips opened, but nothing came out.
“What?” she asked. “You have an idea?”
He glanced up, expression taut. “I was going to say … I could rezone.”
“No way in hell,” she growled.
He held up a placating hand. “I know—and it’s a nonstarter anyway. We’re dozens of light-years from the closest rezone hub. By the time I told anyone what was going on and reinforcements arrived, it’d be way too late. We have a couple hours, at best.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Then I’ll have to destroy the facility.”
Dread flitted across Daroga’s eyes. “How?”
“Steal a nuke.”
He shook his head. “All the WMDs are fail-safed—most of the firepower is. Even if we could get a missile to lock onto a friendly target, it won’t detonate within thirty klicks of the ship.”
“Can you override the failsafe?”
“Not in a matter of hours, no. Even if I had infinite time, I can’t say for sure.”
She grunted, shifting her weight and climbing slowly to her feet. Daroga stood as well, holding his arms out as if she might topple at any second.
Pressing both palms deep into her temples, she willed the suffocating headache tightening around her brain to abate. She didn’t have time for pain.
She let out a long, slow breath, then met Daroga’s eyes. “All right. If we can’t send a missile, then I’ll take whatever explosives I can, and walk them in the front doors.”
He swallowed, his brow drawing down. “Except all of Flintlock is already hybridized. As soon as anyone sees you, West sees you. He’ll be onto us.”
She set her jaw. “Then he’ll be onto us. He can’t control my Rubicon, and you don’t have one.” She swallowed, pushing down the swell of angst that choked her throat. “I’ll have to kill my way through them. They’ll rezone—they’ll be okay.” She bit her lip, well aware she was primarily trying to convince herself. “At least then they’ll be free of the hive mind, and they can tell someone else what’s going on. And it’ll be that many fewer people the scrappers can capture and use as blueprints.”
“That may all be true,” Daroga said. “But you’re only one soldier. Versus fifty. Not that I doubt your skills, but … those aren’t great odds.”
A flash of guilt pushed its way into the forefront of her mind, and she instantly hated herself for what she was about to suggest. But Daroga was right. She’d be beyond outmatched and was running out of options.
“What about my squad?” she asked. “And the Stormwalkers? Are they back from rezoning?”
“Rendezvoused yesterday.”
“Have you installed their implants yet?”
“Only Brigham and Rhett, this morning. I haven’t seen Kato or anyone else yet. I tried, but they were keeping them in quarantine.”
Adriene’s stomach turned.
Brigham was already part of it. His mind shelved to the background, playing host to West’s abominable “collective consciousness.” He was trapped, helpless in a body he couldn’t control.
Daroga lifted the tablet and brought up a new screen. “Looks like the others were interned in the brig shortly after arrival—says they were fighting among themselves.”
She sneered. “That’s a damn believable excuse.”
“Yeah. West probably had them locked up so he wouldn’t have to deal with them catching on before their Rubicons could be installed.”
“Well, that works out fine. That’s five more on our side.”
“If we can get to them.”
She eyed his tablet. “Can you hack ship systems with that thing?”
His cheeks flushed a little darker. “Yeah.”
“See if you can get a life signs trace going; it’ll help us move freely.”
He nodded and got to work.
“Check the mainframe control hub first.”
He shot a glance up at her. “Why?”
“There’s one more advantage we can pick up on the way.”
* * *
Adriene took point as they wound their way through the engine tunnels. Daroga directed their path using ship schematics, while also keeping a close eye on the life signs trace.
They were about halfway when Adriene halted, feet stuck to the floor.
A sickly odor engulfed her, the stench overwhelming in an instant. Her stomach heaved. She turned to brace herself on the wall, swallowing a deluge of bile and acid rushing up her throat.
“Adriene—shit.” Daroga came up behind her, rubbing a hand over her back. “What’s wrong?”
She panted as she glanced up and down the hallway for the source of the stench, but saw nothing. “What is that?”
“The smell? I don’t know. It’s not great, but I can barely smell it…”
Her mind reeled, trying to compute how it was possible. She’d recognize it anywhere—the sterile yet bitter, acrid scent of a new husk. It was burned into the back of her mind.
How could she be smelling it here? In the bowels of the Aurora? It made no sense.
She glanced up at Daroga, surprised by his blank expression. She could practically feel the stench permeating her skin—how could he not even smell it?
She stepped out of the main corridor into a narrow engine-access hallway.
“It’s … the other way,” Daroga whispered, but then followed close after her.
Adriene marched down the hot passageway, homing in on the putrid smell. She had to stop herself from hurling a few more times before she turned another corner and came face-to-face with it.
Her eyes drifted over the angular lines of black glass and tendrils of bundled cabling.
Only one. Stationary and lone and quiet—like an exhibit at a fucking museum. She’d never seen just one before.
Daroga came up behind her.
She wiped the sweat from her eyes. “You see it, right?”
“Yeah, I see it. What is it?”
She looked back at him. His expression was serious, brow drawn down. He really had no idea.
That made sense, she supposed. He’d never had to fall out of one before.
When she found her voice again, it came out hoarse and low. “It’s a rezone bin.”
He was silent for a few long moments, then finally whispered, “Why…?”
Adriene simply shook her head.
She stepped up to the dark glass container, her stomach lurching as the stench intensified. She ran her hand over the cold, dark glass, but couldn’t see through. Couldn’t see what, or whose, body was being grown inside—or constructed, fucking apparently.
This had to be West’s doing. He’d be the only person capable of building a bin from scratch and figuring out how to make the technology portable.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She had no idea how this played into West’s plans; he’d been adamant about not having to resort to an even more synthetic version of his body. So much so, he willingly staked the lives and freedom of the 505th and risked the fate of humanity to accomplish his campaign before he succumbed to death.
Maybe it was just a last resort. A lifeline back to the ship in case he was killed in the field before it was all over.
She marched toward it, reaching into the dark recesses behind the machine. Grabbing a handful of cabling, she yanked as hard as she could. Some of the bundle broke free, sending out a spray of yellow-orange sparks.
The bin beeped, then let out a hard warning tone. A small readout on the side lit with “Backup Power Activated.”
Adriene grabbed another handful, ripped again.
With a sharp exhale of air, the large, domed cover slid open. The full strength of the brutal scent wafted out, clogging Adriene’s lungs. Stumbling back, she covered her mouth with the side of her hand, gagging.
She stepped around to the front, squinting into the open bin.
Daroga took a few cautious steps toward it, peering into the vacant chamber. Gray sludge pooled at the bottom, glistening and wet, with desiccating remnants crusting the inner surface.
“Empty…” Daroga mumbled. “Weird.”
She shook her head. “Not empty.”
He turned to look at her, brow raised.
“Used.”
His throat bobbed with a hard gulp.
She ground her teeth. Whatever. It was too late. She didn’t fucking care—she didn’t even want to know.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed Daroga’s hand, and his shocked look fell away, hardening into bitter resolve.
* * *
When they arrived, the half-moon hub was eerily cool and disturbingly silent. The screens were dark, the drive cores powered down, the holographic interfaces all disabled. On the console still sat the glittering pile of razor-sharp, honed-metal shards.
Adriene grabbed a tool case from the workbench, opening it and upending the contents onto the ground. Using a drive core as a shovel, she pushed the pile off the edge and into the empty case.
“What are those?” Daroga asked.
“The shrapnel the Creator used to kill everyone at the black site. The stuff that cut right through our suits like cloth.”
He blew out an anxious sigh. “Speaking of advantages, we should turn your Rubicon on for this, right?”
Her heart spiked with nervous anticipation. She’d considered her Rubicon a lost cause. “He’s locked out, but even if you can get him back, surely West would notice if I connect to the mainframe?”
“I can make sure it only has local access. It’ll remain cut off from the mainframe, but at least be able to help you interface with your suit. From what you’ve told me about its ability to create networks, I think it’ll allow the others’ suits to connect to yours, so you can all share data.”
Adriene swallowed. As much as she dreaded the idea of acting as a mini-mainframe, having her Rubicon even partly functional could be their greatest asset. “All right, let’s do it,” she agreed.
Daroga lifted his tablet and worked for a few quiet minutes before he glanced back up at her. “All set. You good?”
“Go for it.”
A brilliant flash of white engulfed her vision. It cleared into the sharp, black-or-white lines of her HUD, and a thick warmth descended on her, instantly sieving tension from her muscles.
But any calm it’d caused darkened an instant later with an idle shadow of worry.
// Welc—What happened? Did it work? Are you all right? //
I’m fi—
// I’ve been trying so hard to reach you. //
I know.
// I don’t have access to the mainframe. What’s going on? //
She pushed out a long breath and let the memories of the last few days—what little she could remember—play back in her mind.
// Mira’s ashes. I knew West couldn’t be trusted. //
She scoffed. Swearing now, are we?
// I learned from the best. //
She let out a breathy laugh, then focused past her HUD onto Daroga. Heat rose to her face.
Daroga grinned. “Should I give you two some privacy?”
She shot him a flat look, and he raised his hands in surrender.
// I’m not sure about that one, if we’re being honest. //
He’s fine—let’s focus, shall we?
// You’re the boss. //
We’re going to have to fight. I’m going to need your help.
// I know. //
His voice came out so steady, so serious, so dread-laden, it caused her breath to hitch.
// Are you ready? //
The corners of her mouth tugged up, and warmth bloomed from her chest, waves of strength rushing down her limbs. “Always.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Adriene and Daroga carefully crept through the vacant corridors of the upper decks.
When they arrived at the brig area, they found a single MP posted at the intake desk. Daroga used his newly hacked connection to the ship systems to force an automatic door to malfunction.
As the confused guard passed to check it out, Adriene slipped up behind her, covering her mouth and clamping her into a headlock. The MP struggled as Adriene carefully tightened down, restricting the airway just enough. The woman’s fingers fell lifeless as they reached futilely for the call button at her wrist. Adriene lowered the unconscious guard to the ground.
Daroga helped her restrain the MP and lock her in a nearby bulkhead pass-through. Adriene had half a mind to try to recruit the MPs to their cause, since no one in the military police should have an implant, but her Rubicon had warned her against it. They were already low on time, and it’d take far too long to justify their mutinous intentions to strangers—if they’d even be willing to believe it at all. Even convincing her own squadmates was going to be a stretch.
A fact she became even more sure of when the brig door slid open and she caught sight of their dejected scowls. Kato and Gallagher sat in a glass-walled room opposite a narrow aisle from another cell, which held Ivon, Coleson, and Wyatt. All five sat in silence, staring into the distance, not a single word or look passing between them.
Daroga went straight to the security console to access the lock controls. Adriene set down the shrapnel-filled toolbox, then wiped the slicks of sweat from the palms of her hands. She stepped to the glass opposite Kato. His eyes drifted over, and life seemed to fill his dejected face in an instant, color flushing his pale cheeks.
He pushed to his feet and pressed a palm against the glass. “Ninety-Six…”
He met her gaze with bloodshot eyes, his perpetually upturned mouth pressed into a thin, grim line. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
Gallagher stepped up beside him, not looking much better off. Her dark, curly hair fell well past her shoulders—much longer than it’d been when she’d died. It’d clearly been a very long time since she’d used a husk at that incubator. Her dark brown eyes darted paranoid looks up and down the cellblock. “Valero, what the hell’s going on? Where is everyone?”
“Most of the company’s deployed,” Adriene said, then breathed a sigh of relief as a soft clunk sounded and both cell doors slid open. Kato and Gallagher stepped out into the aisle.
Daroga joined them, gripping Kato’s forearm before it morphed into a hug.
“You okay?” Daroga asked.
“Yeah, man.” Kato exhaled, and the hug broke. He offered Daroga a toothy smile, though it lacked heart. Daroga gripped his shoulder.
Adriene forced herself to lock eyes with Gallagher for a few steady seconds, then Kato. “Guys, I’m…” She paused, clearing the hard lump from the back of her throat. “I’m sorry. Truly. You know I wouldn’t wish a rezone on anyone.”
Gallagher’s gaze softened slightly, and she gave an acquiescent tilt of her head.
Kato’s haunted expression remained, but he nodded, reassuring. “Don’t worry about it, Ninety-Six.”
Ivon grumbled, “What the hell’s going on, Valero?”
She looked over her shoulder as the Stormwalkers filed out of their own cell, their bored, tired looks folding into concern. Though Ivon and Wyatt appeared all but unchanged, Adriene had to do a double take as her eyes landed on Coleson. He looked at least ten years younger—wrinkles smoothed, eyes wider, the grayness at his temples gone in favor of a shaggy mop of thick, light brown hair.
“Something’s going on,” she began warily. “Something bad. I need your help. All of you.”
Kato lowered his voice. “Does this have anything to do with your superpowered Rubicon?”
She grimaced. “Noticed that, huh?”
// We weren’t exactly being subtle. //
Kato cast a wry grin. “Hard not to.”
Ivon glared at Adriene, though he didn’t pry.
“Did it work?” Kato asked. “Did we get the bot?”
A vise tightened in her chest. “It worked, yes.”
Gallagher’s look darkened. “You look like shit, Valero. What happened?”
Adriene grazed her bruised cheek and sucked in a steadying breath. She gave them a short primer on the situation: the AI upgrades, the hybridization, the hive mind. Hearing West’s theory about the bots wanting human bodies really threw them off, and it took a few minutes for everyone to recover. In the end, they were accepting if not confused, but there simply wasn’t time to answer every question. She had to ask for blind faith, regardless of how well they understood it.
Kato scratched the back of his head, then shrugged. “Whatever you need, Ninety-Six.”
Gallagher hesitated, running her hands through her loose curls for a few long moments before finally nodding her agreement.
The Stormwalkers, however, stood in varying degrees of unconvinced. Ivon and Coleson stood back, huddled in quiet discussion while Wyatt crossed and uncrossed her arms a few times, letting out a couple of sharp huffs before looking back to Adriene. “Yeah, all right. I’m in.”
Ivon’s look softened as he watched Wyatt give in, but Coleson’s concern only deepened.
Adriene stepped toward the men. “I can’t force you, obviously. The decision’s yours. But if we’re gonna have even a chance in hell, we really do need you.”
Coleson’s brow furrowed as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. “This is mutiny.”
“Think of it less as mutiny and more of … taking matters into our own hands.”
Ivon frowned. “What assurance do we have that we won’t be court-martialed for this?”
She shook her head. “None.”
Coleson threw a flat look at Daroga. “Your girlfriend’s negotiating skills leave something to be desired.”
Something akin to a real smile broke Kato’s face, and he elbowed Daroga.
Adriene sighed, taking a step closer to Coleson, Ivon, and Wyatt. “There are no guarantees. We don’t know how involved Thurston or Blackwell are, or any of the rest of Command, for that matter. But I don’t think Major West would have locked me up in a cell downstairs if it was all aboveboard. That might grant us some lenience when the time comes.”
