Empire Of Light Part 28

The several minutes before Martinez arrived were some of the most uncomfortable Dakota had ever experienced.

She could have communicated with Lamoureaux via their implants, but her gut told her that Nancy would only become even more paranoid if she guessed what they were doing. So they waited in silence, trying to avoid looking directly at Nancy, while Corso checked data-files on the med-bay's terminal.

Martinez, when he arrived, studied the ruined equipment with a defeated expression. 'Well, looks like n.o.body's getting scanned any time soon,' he muttered.

'Or maybe one of them them did it,' said Nancy, her eyes burning into Dakota's. 'It's what we're all thinking, isn't it?' did it,' said Nancy, her eyes burning into Dakota's. 'It's what we're all thinking, isn't it?'

Dakota did her best not to flinch from her gaze. 'Or maybe you you did it, Nancy,' she suggested. 'It's not like anyone doesn't know you've got a problem with me and Ted.' did it, Nancy,' she suggested. 'It's not like anyone doesn't know you've got a problem with me and Ted.'

'Oh, come on on,' Nancy snapped, gripping her weapon closer to her chest. 'n.o.body's going to smash this stuff to pieces unless they were scared of what it might reveal.'

'Shut the h.e.l.l up, Nancy,' growled Martinez. 'I don't want to hear one more word of idle speculation.'

Nancy fell silent, but still looked defiant.

'Lucas,' Martinez continued, 'how long would it take for us to build some new diagnostic units?'

'We can't,' Corso replied wearily. 'I just checked the fabricator databases and the med-bay blueprints have all been wiped as well.'

Nancy's gaze once again settled on Dakota, as if she had just heard a piece of particularly d.a.m.ning evidence. 'Well, what do you know,' she murmured, and stepped back out of the room.

Corso stared after her with an alarmed expression. 'Eduard-'

'Don't worry about her,' Martinez interrupted quietly. 'She's not going to do anything stupid. She's just scared like the rest of us.'

Scared people do dangerous things, Dakota almost observed, but thought better of it. Dakota almost observed, but thought better of it.

Martinez declared the bay off-limits and sealed the room with Schiller's help, placing a couple of dedicated sensors on the door that would sound a full alert if anyone tried to enter without permission. Corso and Lamoureaux made their way back to the bridge together.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Lamoureaux pulled Corso to a halt. 'We have to talk about Whitecloud,' he said urgently.

Corso nodded, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'I think I know what you're going to say. He's the only other one on board with an implant, so maybe he can also be compromised.'

Lamoureaux nodded. 'Uchidan implant technology isn't so very different from what I've got in my my head.' head.'

'I thought the Uchidan technology was a lot more limited?'

'Sure, extremely limited,' Lamoureaux confirmed. 'No localized environmental data, no ability to interface with any machinery outside of a dedicated transceiver, and even then only in the crudest possible way. I could stand right next to him and I wouldn't be able to tell if there's anything lodged in his brain, but that wouldn't necessarily mean he isn't vulnerable to outside control. I mean, I don't know whether it can be done, but that's not the same thing as saying it can't.'

'You've got to admit,' said Corso, 'it'd be kind of ironic if that did turn out to be the case.'

'Ironic how?'

'He's at least partly responsible for what happened at Port Gabriel, so it'd be a kind of karmic justice, don't you think?'

'Maybe.' The corner of Lamoureaux's mouth twitched slightly. 'I'll have to admit I hadn't thought of that.'

Corso nodded in the direction they'd been heading. 'We should get back to the bridge now,' he said, pushing away from the bulkhead they had paused to rest against.

'Lucas, wait. I didn't just want to talk to you about Whitecloud.'

Corso grabbed a rung, before he could drift too far ahead. 'What then?'

'I mean Olivarri. Your aides asked me some questions about him when we were back at Ocean's Deep.'

'What kind of questions?'

'About who I might have seen him talking to.'

Corso frowned. 'Ray Willis was Olivarri's boss. He'd have told me if something was wrong.'

'I had the impression they were just feeling something out, like there was just the merest suggestion suggestion of irregularities. That's what Nisha said to me.' of irregularities. That's what Nisha said to me.'

'Why are you telling me this now?'

'It's not too late to send a signal back to Ocean's Deep. I don't know what's happened to Nisha or Yugo since the Legislate took over, but maybe one of them might still be in a position to help us run a deeper background check on him.'

'I don't know,' said Corso. 'It's going to use a lot of power to boost a signal that far.'

'Sure,' Lamoureaux agreed. 'But on the other hand we might find out why someone wanted him dead.'

Chapter Twenty-six.

Over the next few days, Ty was surprised at how quickly normal routines rea.s.serted themselves. When Nancy made an unexpected visit to the lab on the evening after the discovery of Olivarri's body, he had asked her questions even as he undressed her, until finally she pressed a finger against his mouth to forestall any further interrogation.

By the following evening, the last of the disrupted systems were back to normal, and Ty found himself scheduled to take part in the first of a series of hull-maintenance shifts, in the company of Martinez and Perez. As soon as they were outside, Ty made an excuse to head off in the direction of the stern, and a failing drive-spine, accompanied by a half-dozen spider-mechs.

He set the hull-clamps to retract, and waited until they had unlocked from around the spine, before setting the spiders to work in lifting it out of its socket. He then left them to it, making his way quickly to an emergency airlock close by.

Ty clambered inside and yanked the hatch shut after him, pulling his helmet off as soon as the air had finished cycling. Then he activated the airlock's inbuilt comms terminal.

This, he knew, was where he ran the greatest risk of being caught. Although he had been careful to pick out an airlock equipped with an imager-enabled terminal, the unscheduled tach-net link he was about to open might drain enough power to trigger an alert on the bridge, one that could in turn be traced back to his current whereabouts. But it was still a risk he was prepared to take.

He pulled off his right glove and reached out to the terminal screen, then paused. He could stop now, go back outside, and get on with his scheduled task. He could simply forget about his encounter with Olivarri.

No. He took a deep breath, shook his head as if to dispel his fears, and pressed his palm flat against the screen making sure the ring given to him by the avatar came into full contact with it. He took a deep breath, shook his head as if to dispel his fears, and pressed his palm flat against the screen making sure the ring given to him by the avatar came into full contact with it.

The panel flashed twice, to show it had recognized the ring as imager-compatible. Ty waited as the terminal pulled a data package out of the ring and dumped it into its own localized memory. The panel flashed again, letting him know it was working at opening up a line of communication.

Whoever was behind the avatar hadn't lied when boasting about the level of encryption involved. Ty had uploaded the same data packages into the lab's own stacks, but hadn't been able to crack them, despite several days of effort. But that didn't matter nearly so much as finding out what was really going on.

He fidgeted there in the coffin-like s.p.a.ce for several minutes, while he waited for the terminal to establish a link. He briefly opened up his s.p.a.cesuit's comms to check in on Martinez and Perez, but they were busy talking sports, so he turned it off again and waited.

The terminal chimed eventually, and a confirmation request appeared. Ty tapped the screen, and a moment later the same avatar he had encountered in Unity appeared before him.

'Mr Whitecloud,' acknowledged the voice behind the avatar.

'There was another Consortium agent on the Mjollnir, Mjollnir, and now he's dead,' Ty yelled, without any preamble. 'What the h.e.l.l is going on? Just how many of you people are on this ship? And . . . how the h.e.l.l do I even know and now he's dead,' Ty yelled, without any preamble. 'What the h.e.l.l is going on? Just how many of you people are on this ship? And . . . how the h.e.l.l do I even know you're you're really a Consortium agent? In fact, what proof did I ever get?' really a Consortium agent? In fact, what proof did I ever get?'

The avatar gazed back, silent and calm and so clearly artificial, while whoever was behind it tried to put together a response.

'We're aware of your encounter with Leo Olivarri,' the synthesized voice finally responded. 'Olivarri was in reality an agent for the Freehold Senate not not for the Consortium.' for the Consortium.'

Ty stared at the screen, befuddled. How could they have found out about Olivarri's death already? How-?

'No.' Ty shook his head several times, slowly at first, then more violently. 'No, that's bulls.h.i.t. I talked to him! He told me he was a Consortium agent, and I asked him why he'd approached me, when you you had already contacted me. He didn't know what the h.e.l.l I was talking about. So I had already contacted me. He didn't know what the h.e.l.l I was talking about. So I know know he was telling me the truth. He had no idea who you were and now he's dead!' he was telling me the truth. He had no idea who you were and now he's dead!'

There was another long pause, and Ty imagined whatever shadowy figure lurked behind the avatar trying to come up with a plausible response.

'It's possible,' the avatar said eventually, 'that whoever killed him might target you next.'

'None of what you're saying makes any sense!' Ty shouted at the tiny screen. 'If he was really working for the Freehold, then who killed him? Yet another another Consortium agent?' Consortium agent?'

He pounded the hard plastic of the screen with one fist, feeling pain like hot needles being rammed into his knuckles. He was breathing hard, hyperventilating, fast using up the airlock's limited supply of air. He sobbed with frustration, and felt hot salt tears trickle down his cheeks.

'Listen to me,' he spat, both hands now gripping the sides of the screen, as if framing the face of the avatar. 'Show yourself. Do you hear me? Show yourself. Show yourself. And tell me who the h.e.l.l killed Olivarri . . . and if it had anything to do with your talking to me!' And tell me who the h.e.l.l killed Olivarri . . . and if it had anything to do with your talking to me!'

'Nathan?'

It was Martinez, his voice sounding tinny from within Ty's discarded suit helmet. He grabbed up the helmet and opened a channel.

'Where are you?' asked Martinez. 'We can see your spiders, but we can't see you. You need to stay in sight at all times, Nathan.'

'I'm fine. Sorry,' Ty replied, a little too hurriedly. He swallowed and forced himself to sound calm, or they would suspect something was wrong. 'I'm . . . I thought some of the stern drive-spines might have got more damaged than we thought. So I figured it might be better to check them out, just in case. I'll be right back.'

'Well, okay,' said Martinez, doubt evident in his voice. 'We're heading up to one of the middle hull sections. Mr Corso's currently picking up some fail signatures from up that way, and we're off to take a look. We'll see you there in . . . make it five hundred seconds from now. Got that?'

'Got that,' Ty replied and cut the connection.

The avatar was gone, and the screen had turned black. If he wanted answers, Ty was going to have to find them somewhere else. He re-secured his helmet, cursing and muttering as he twisted around in the confined s.p.a.ce, then paused just as he was about to pull his glove back on.

He left the same glove spinning slowly in the air, as he pulled the other one off as well. Then he tried to slide the data-ring off his finger.

The moment he worked it up to his knuckle, a deep, primal terror washed over him like a black tide. Worse, the ring actually became tighter, tighter, rather than looser, as it was designed to do when removed. rather than looser, as it was designed to do when removed.

Ty gritted his teeth and once again tried to work the ring past his knuckle. It could only get so tight, after all.

Something like an electric current surged up his spine before exploding inside his skull. He writhed in pain, his head feeling like it was on fire, twisting around in the zero gee like a trapped animal.

When this pain finally subsided, the knowledge of how thoroughly he had been duped became unavoidable. He had suspected as much when he first encountered the avatar, but had been so desperate to escape from the residency and from Marcus Weil that he had ignored his own instincts.

Worse, he now had a pretty good idea what had been done to him.

It was still difficult for Ty to think back to his days developing military technologies for the Uchidans; conscripted or not, he had allowed himself to be sufficiently drawn into his work that it became easy to ignore the potential human cost of their research, while helping his fellow scientists develop a variety of possible means by which neural implants could be attacked or compromised. One in particular had involved the use of the body's own bio-electric field as a conduit for signals that could overcome or suppress the flow of information in implants except that, in order to work, whatever affected the bio-electric field had to remain in constant contact with the target's own body. This, in turn, had led to the development of hardware-based neural-feedback mechanisms that could manipulate the neuro-chemical balance of the target's brain, eliciting powerful negative emotions or even generating escalating levels of pain and distress that could prove ultimately deadly.

Something like a cheap data-ring could do the job. And whoever was behind the avatar had somehow figured out how to use Ty's own research against him.

Chapter Twenty-seven.

Eleven days out from Redstone, Dakota made her way to one of the airlock bays. She was surprised to find Nancy Schiller there, along with Ted Lamoureaux.

Lamoureaux nodded guardedly to her. Nancy, on the other hand, was doing her level best to ignore both of them.

'I thought Dan was scheduled for this crew,' Dakota said cautiously. Since Schiller herself was in charge of scheduling the repair shifts, she had so far arranged them so that she had never once had to work on the same crew as Dakota.

Nancy didn't look up while she ran her s.p.a.cesuit's auto-diagnostics. 'Yeah, he was, but something else came up.'

'You know, me and Ted could probably handle this just fine with only the two of us,' said Dakota.

Nancy finally raised her head and flashed her a look of contempt. 'I don't think so,' she barked. 'Just get suited up, all right?'

Dakota pushed her way over to one of the racks and grabbed a suit.

What happened to Dan? Dakota sent. Dakota sent.

Lamoureaux replied. There's an increase in Emissary tach-net traffic because we just jumped straight past the Long War and deep into the gap between spiral arms, remember? So that means they have to boost their signals all the way from the Perseus Arm, and we're just picking up stray long-range transmissions. It doesn't actually mean there's more Emissaries out there any closer at hand.

Their last jump had taken place fourteen hours before, with the drive-spines running at about 70 per cent efficiency. The frigate was now nearly three and a half thousand light-years from home, and the Consortium had been reduced to a barely discernible smudge of stars lying somewhere in the direction of the Core.

See why you need me? Dakota sent, now making for the locker next to his. He was making a typical hash of getting into his own suit here in zero gee. sent, now making for the locker next to his. He was making a typical hash of getting into his own suit here in zero gee.

Lamoureaux laughed at her expression, and Schiller snapped her head around to stare at them both.

'I know you're talking,' she said. 'Don't think I don't know it.'

Dakota turned to face her. 'Is that a problem, Nancy?'

For a few seconds, the other woman looked like she might make something more of it, then she uttered a sound of disgust. 'Just get ready,' she muttered. 'I want this over and done with.'

Nancy turned away and Dakota stared silently at her back for a few seconds. Then she began to strip off, throwing her discarded clothing into the open locker.

Lamoureaux meanwhile kept his gaze politely averted and concentrated on checking his own s.p.a.cesuit's integrity, once he had finally managed to pull himself inside it. When Dakota was completely naked, she padded towards the airlock entrance on bare feet.

Nancy's face turned a stormy red. 'I don't know what you think you're . . .'

Her jaw dropped open as the black tide of Dakota's filmsuit spilled out of its hidden orifices, rapidly coating her skin overall in a thick layer that could protect her from the vacuum and radiation beyond the hull. Dakota swallowed as the same tide of black flowed down her throat and into her lungs, stilling them as their function was temporarily abrogated to tiny power units inside her spine.