Exodus, page 74
“Heading for the capsule now,” she told him, slightly breathless. “I don’t think he’s seen me; I’m keeping at least fifty meters away. But I miss not using the insect drones to track him.”
“The life support department gets upset about flocks of insects in High Rosa.”
“Infestations.”
“Huh?”
“It’s an infestation of insects, not a flock.”
“Duly noted.”
“It’s harder for me to control an aireel. Not everything new is progress.”
Terence didn’t say anything; he liked the aireels. Makaio-Faraji had given them a set five years ago. They were slender threads three centimeters long and as thin as gossamer, with a density that gave them neutral buoyancy in air (not that it mattered in zero gee). They maneuvered by undulating their body—a motion apparently derived from an eel. Their complex molecular composition meant they were effectively translucent, making them extremely hard to see. “Pray you never encounter the battle-class versions,” Makaio-Faraji’s accompanying message had informed him.
“Let me see him,” Terence said. The CI switched to the aireel’s feed. It was an odd viewpoint; the aireel’s sinuous movement sent the perspective swaying from side to side. The High Rosa transit corridor Toše was gliding along was five meters wide, with plenty of humans floating along in zero gee—some proficiently, some not so much. Toše definitely had plenty of free-fall experience, Terence decided; he was moving effortlessly toward the capsule embarkation lounge at the far end. The aireel was keeping pace a couple of meters behind him.
“You depart in eight minutes,” Terence said. “You might want to get a bit closer.”
“Thank you for sharing your travel experience. They close the airlock two minutes before. I’ve got plenty of time.”
Terence grinned to himself; it was like offering advice to his children.
“So this Medusa,” Lućia said. “What have you got on her so far?”
“She’s a security freelancer, estimated age is sixty-five biological. We know she’s flown with Travelers, but not recently.”
“Define ‘recent.’ ”
“Twenty years, maybe more. There’s also some unsubstantiated rumors that she does more than basic security work. She might be an assassin.”
“Nothing concrete, though?”
“No. But I’m arranging to place her under total surveillance and lnc intercept; the team will be ready to deploy in four hours. She’s the closest we have to the top of Network Three. And I’m desperate to see if she’s going to go for Toše again when he reaches Santa Rosa.”
The aireel feed showed Toše entering the hemispherical embarkation lounge.
“Yeah,” Lućia drawled. “Does it bother you that we’re always on the verge of a breakthrough, but it never quite happens?”
“Extremely. Why?”
“No real point. I was just thinking, what if they grew their network to find out what we’re doing and we grew our network to find out what they’re doing, and neither of us is actually ‘doing’ anything apart from watching the other?”
“Okay, so what about Medusa planning to ask about Toše, and the whole Bopbe disaster?”
“Maybe just…gang-on-gang?”
“Don’t spoil my day.”
“Just saying, you know.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. I’m going to organize a second total surveillance op to greet Toše as soon as the capsule arrives down here.”
Terence watched Toše pass through the short airlock tube into the passenger capsule. The aireel followed him. As it went into the tube, a service andy flew out of the capsule where it had been cleaning, propelled by a set of ducted fans. The aireel sashayed to one side so it wouldn’t get close. The two of them passed half a meter apart. That was the moment when the service andy swiveled its vacuum hose around and rotated so the nozzle end faced the airlock tube surface. The movement swung the end of its nozzle past the aireel. The feed turned to a jumble of spinning images; then the aireel was tumbling down the inside of the service andy’s hose in complete darkness.
“Son of a bitch,” Lućia squealed. “I fucking hate aireels!”
“Get into the capsule,” Terence said. “Now!”
“No shit!”
The feed flicked to Lućia’s personal sensors. Terence could see her arms moving fast, smacking the ridges along the transit corridor as she raced for the embarkation lounge.
“Get me the capsule’s internal sensor network,” Terence told the CI. “Visual recognition, locate Toše.”
“Accessing,” it replied.
Lućia arrived in the embarkation lounge and soared across it to the airlock tube. The service andy buzzed out, its nozzle running industriously around the edge of the tube, sucking down any dirt it could find.
“Can you see him?” Terence asked.
“No.”
Lućia came out of the airlock into a small vestibule chamber. The capsule had two elevators that connected the four decks. The indicators showed one on its way up to the vestibule, the other going down to the lower deck. A family with three kids came in through the tube behind her, the mother shooting her a disapproving look.
“Where’s my feed from the capsule?” Terence asked the CI. “I need the cameras in the elevators.”
“There is a glitch in the lnc.”
He sat up in the chair, staring urgently at the orbital tower. “Down here or at High Rosa?”
“The problem is in the capsule systems.”
“Asteria, is the capsule faulty?” Too much coincidence, he thought. Way too much.
“No. Tower control monitors are showing all systems functional.”
“Can they access the internal sensors?”
“There are partial connections.”
“Can you get me anything?”
“Vestibule, second deck, stairwell passage, travel attendant galley, and first deck restroom annex are available.”
“What about the elevators?”
“No lnc.”
“Is our target in any of the areas you can scan?”
“Negative.”
“Okay, find a way around the problem. Lućia, get down to the lower deck.”
“On it.” She was already heading across the vestibule for the door to the stairwell.
Terence waited anxiously as she pulled herself down the open center of the spiraling stairs. Then a soft alarm sounded, and netting started to telescope out at each deck level, forcing her onto the stairs.
“Damn it,” Lućia grunted. “The capsule’s getting ready for acceleration.”
“Freeze that service andy,” Terence told his CI. “Analyze its routines.”
Lućia reached the bottom of the stairwell and hurried into the lounge. Curving rows of seats were arranged theater-style in front of a glass wall, providing passengers a view of the planet they were about to descend toward. The terminator line was already creeping along toward Santa Rosa, the darkness it left punctured by the tiny lights of farming towns. Attendants were urging people to take their seats before acceleration began and gravity brought them to the floor.
“He’s not here,” Lućia said.
Tower travel displays playing in Terence’s retinal membranes told him the capsule airlock had closed. It was going to disengage from High Rosa in twenty seconds.
“Replay all embarkation lounge visual sensors from the time the aireel was lost,” he told the CI.
“Files unavailable.”
“What— No. How is that possible?”
“The network around the capsule has been soft burnt,” the CI told him. “High Rosa’s CI is now aware of the attack and is purging the system. Full functionality will return in eleven seconds.”
“Run a scan for Toše. Access all functioning sensors within half a kilometer of the capsule terminus.”
“The capsule’s departing,” Lućia said.
“Can you get up to the next lounge?”
“On my way.”
“The service andy has been secured,” the CI said. “Running diagnostics.”
Lućia’s feed showed her charging up the stairs as the capsule’s gravity began to build. She went into the deck three lounge, which was almost identical to the fourth, but with fewer, larger chairs. “He’s not here. Son of a bitch, I’ll try deck two.”
“The service andy was under remote control for three minutes,” the CI said. “The lnc sending its instructions is now inactive.”
“This was planned,” Terence said bitterly. “He got off, somehow. He knew we were observing him. Asteria’s arse, Toše must be using Celestial tech.”
“But…Terence, it’s only you and me that know Toše arrived back at High Rosa.”
“Wrong!” He sprang out of the chair and went over to the window. Both hands pressed against the cool glass, and he craned his head to see the far end of the orbital tower, but the angle was too great. The rigid black line simply vanished up into the blue sky. “They knew we were looking,” he said, “so they knew we’d pick him up as soon as the Cybele’s Eagle filed to dock at High Rosa.”
“Yeah, but I only just got up here in time,” Lućia said. “Have they got teams we don’t even know about?”
“Looks like it. Hell, I’ll get the dock authority to impound the Cybele’s Eagle. We’ll question the crew, find out where Toše has been and what he was doing.”
“That’s a pretty poor second, Terence.”
“I know. Access High Rosa dock management and give them my authority code. I want the Cybele’s Eagle impounded.”
“The Cybele’s Eagle has now undocked,” the CI said.
“Crap! Can they get it back?”
“He’s on it, isn’t he?” Lućia said.
Her feed was showing him the second deck lounge. Toše wasn’t there.
Terence didn’t even try to fool himself that Toše was in the capsule’s first lounge. “Yes.”
“I don’t understand this. If Network Two has the capability to extract Toše from High Rosa, why trick me onto the capsule?”
A very bad feeling made Terence press himself harder against the glass. “Crap.”
“Do you think they’re trying to discredit us—well, you, I guess?”
“Lućia. Toše had a case when he came out of the Cybele’s Eagle, I saw an andy take it. Did he have luggage checked on board the capsule?”
“Oh, you don’t think…?”
“Is it possible to bring the capsule back up to the tower?” he asked the CI.
“Yes. An emergency would have to be declared.”
“Declare it. Now. Alert georing security and tower control there is an explosive device on board that capsule. As soon as the airlock engages, evacuate everyone immediately.”
“I’ll go down into the cargo hold,” Lućia said.
“No!”
“He did have luggage loaded. I have the bag code; I can check it.”
“And do what? Stay the fuck away! Are there any emergency spacesuits on board?”
“Tower control is acknowledging,” the CI said. “They are requesting your authority confirmation for the emergency.”
“Asteria’s tits, full authority! I’m declaring a crisis status one-red-one.”
“Confirmed.”
“Are the tower emergency services deploying?”
“The capsule network says there are some spacesuits on board. I don’t think—”
Lućia’s lnc dropped out of his retinal display. “Lućia!” he screamed. “Lućia! Lućia! Restore lnc right fucking now.”
“Unable to comply. All lncs to the capsule are severed. Tower engineering reports capsule explosion.”
“No!” He hammered a fist on the glass, staring desperately up into the unblemished sky. His CI displayed a feed from the georing. The tower sank away below, a thick dark column of supreme Celestial engineering plunging away to pierce the exquisite blue-and-green globe far away. Kilometers below, a small bright cloud was expanding away from it, sending glowing wreckage fragments whirling away into space.
Horror froze Terence’s body as he gazed at the awesome line reaching up from the city. If the explosion had snapped it—“Tower status,” he whispered. “Please, Asteria, is the tower intact?”
“Tower integrity ratified.”
Terence let out a sob and rested his forehead against the glass as his ragged breathing shook his body. Eventually he regained control and stared up at the invisible georing with utter hatred. “I will find you, motherfuckers, I swear I will find you. And when I do, not even the Elohim will be able to protect you from me.”
* * *
—
Ten days after the tower capsule explosion, Terence parked his globecab in the private garage under the Zetian Palace and made his way to the meeting room. He’d lost count of how many times he’d attended over the decades since he came back from his fateful meeting with Makaio-Faraji on Wynid. Zelinda Jalgori-Tobu still attended, of course—the other constant. After Fábilo deMederios had retired twelve years ago, the Santa Rosa Police commander had started attending in his place. For María José, the newest commander, this was her third meeting. Terence almost felt sorry for her. She’d only been appointed five months ago, and she hadn’t been entirely comfortable at their first meeting, when she discovered that archons were running clandestine networks in Santa Rosa and one of her own officers was an archon agent, who had spent decades amassing exacting information on most of the gang activities in the city.
“Why haven’t you made this available to the force and shut them down?” she’d asked incredulously.
“Because we need to monitor their activities to see what the other networks are doing. If we arrest all the informers and members we observe, my network will be reduced to a point where it is ineffective.”
It wasn’t an answer she was pleased with. Now this.
“I suppose you know who did it,” she snapped accusingly as soon as the three of them sat down.
Terence kept his face expressionless. “Members of the Syralee Angelics; they operate in the city’s northern districts. I’ve been monitoring them for a while.” Claiming that was painful beyond belief, but he couldn’t give her Toše’s identity. The mood that had engulfed Santa Rosa immediately after the atrocity was one of absolute shock, which had now given way to smoldering fury. There’d never been anything like it committed on Gondiar before. The whole concept of being protected by the power of the Celestial empress had been upended. Practically every tree in the city had a black ribbon tied around it. Everyone was demanding answers—and, more importantly, the perpetrators.
If he named Toše, María José would file arrest warrants with her counterparts across Gondiar’s cities and prefectures, and it would all be for nothing. If Toše could elude him and Lućia when he was under active observation from Celestial systems, the police would never catch him. Besides, it wasn’t just Toše who’d arranged the bomb. Whoever was running Network Two had prepared the vanishing trick before the Cybele’s Eagle had docked.
“Why were you monitoring them?” María José asked.
“The Syralee Angelics have brought weapons down the tower before; we believed they were going to do so again.”
“Before?” she said in dismay. “They’ve done it before and you never thought to inform me? They’re part of these bloody archon spy networks, aren’t they?”
“There is some crossover, yes.”
“What spying? What the hell are they looking for? This is Gondiar, for Asteria’s sake; we’re not some dominion navy armed with star-killing weapons. We farm; that’s all we do. Farm!”
“I don’t know what their purpose is.”
“Then what fucking use are you? You’re a police officer and you certainly don’t help the police. Does your archon think you’re doing a good job for him?”
“Enough,” Zelinda said. “All of us here operate within the fields defined by the representatives of the empress. Director Wilson-Fletcher is simply following orders.”
“Two hundred and thirty-seven people were on board that capsule,” María José said icily. “Twenty of them children.”
“They killed one of my officers,” Terence replied. “Who was my friend. I will provide all the information you need to put them away for good. This file has the names of everyone involved.” He’d worked up the file with his CI, implicating the Syralee Angelics members, two of whom had been up at High Rosa at the time. It listed several crimes they’d taken part in over the last ten months, the principal one being selling a batch of Remnant Era weapons to another gang in San Huasna. The story being they knew Lućia was on to them and responded with the capsule bomb. The intel in the file would provide an unbreakable prosecution case. He told his CI to send it to the commander.
“The only thing I don’t know is which of them planted the capsule bomb. But the recorded observation evidence and informer affidavits will provide you with the proof necessary to charge every one of them with collusion resulting in the destruction of the capsule. It’s more than enough to get them fifty years age-acceleration, followed by perpetuity on a penal farm.” The fact that they were all guilty of crimes that genuinely deserved life sentences didn’t stop him from feeling like shit.
María José stared at him for a long minute. “It better do.”
“I can help with—”
“No thank you, director. My police officers are more than capable of organizing eighteen arrest teams.”
“Of course.”
“I’d like them arrested within thirty-six hours,” Zelinda said.
“I can’t guarantee that,” María José said.
“You’re going to have to. In thirty-six hours, the marchioness will be leading the city in the official memorial service. We will require the perpetrators in custody by then. Director, are you sure the evidence in your file will lead to successful guilty verdicts?”
