The Universe - or Nothing Part 31

Zolan carefully adjusted the controls to slip the flitter away from the screening vessels. Clear, he maneuvered his craft close to a s.p.a.ce buoy that marked the route through Fandango.

A yellow-green striped tug appeared in the distance and grew larger. The Gateway's diameter could expand to pa.s.s the largest freighters or close completely.

It could be straight or as convoluted as a randomly configured corkscrew. The tug pa.s.sed through, flashing the agreed-on signals.

Zolan responded. The tug stopped, reversed heading, and waited for him to line up. Inside the force field, the route took them over, under and around huge freighters and through swarms of shuttles, tugs, and barges. Five hundred meters from the depot Zolan pressed a disk on his control column and a mag beam reached out and locked on to the tug.

The tug's thrusters glowed brighter with the power to match up both craft. Aligned, Zolan released the tug, and gentling his thrusters, brought his flitter to rest on a landing platform that had articulated from a portal.

s.p.a.ce suit closed and glare screens partially activated to veil his features, Zolan strode the Depot's corridors behind his escort. Although he had docked at the portal nearest his destination, the spunnel console was still almost a quarter kay from the air lock.

Reaching the console chamber, Zolan motioned his guide to wait outside. He entered and inspected the area for intruders and bugs. It seemed secure.

Approaching the squat spunnel transmitter he noted that Hanno had activated the system for immediate use and disengaged all logs and file-for-record links. Confirming the disconnect, Zolan wasted no time in preliminaries. Inserting the capsule he keyed the transmitter to the channels a.s.signed to Sentinel and set off his burst.

The transmitter was a model that dated back several centuries to the depot's construction. Zolan knew from his training for the mission that a spunnel burst from the depot had to be arranged in parts.

Each segment was to be inserted separately into the spunnel dispatch slot. The ancient transmitter could process only so much at a bite.

Zolan held the final segment and reached to insert it. A couple of seconds and the transmission would be complete. The console was coded to dissolve the capsule immediately following the burst; there would be no residue.

Zolan bent to insert the end of the message.

Sensing movement behind him, he slipped sideways and hit the deck. Without warning and in the line-of-fire, the squat console disintegrated as a rending flash arced across to where he had been a fraction of second before. Off balance, twisting to face the door, Zolan drew his weapon.

The flash blinded him. His suit shielded him against the instant h.e.l.l-fire that bounced off the console.

Silence followed the attacker's second shot. Zolan crouched, weapon extended, vision clearing. No further shots. Snapping a quick glance around, he took in the damage. The console was a melted lump and the room a shambles. He had to get out and away.

Up on his feet, he raced through the open doorway, gun raised. His escort to the comm room lay spread-eagled in the corridor, head burned to a crisp by what must have been a max shot. The corridor was empty.

"They cleared the area of everyone but the killer,"

he thought bitterly.

Having committed the route to memory as he followed the escort to the spunnel room, Zolan raced along the corridors, gun in hand. No one barred his way.

The air lock came in view. He hurried through and twisted into the flitter driver's cage. He cut the mag beam to the dock and signaled the waiting tug.

They met on the transit strip.

Standing close, facing off the strip, observant, Zolan briefed Brad in quick, terse phrases.

"What's your a.s.sessment?" Brad asked when Zolan finished.

"It was a long, straight corridor. The escort must have been shot from the bend some distance away.

Damage to the comm room was extensive. Scarf must have an agent there. My having the area cleared alerted him. That brought on the attack."

"Did you get word to Hanno?"

"No. It would have raised questions I couldn't answer without breaking our cover. He'll have to figure it out for himself. I'm concerned about what the agent will report to his control."

"Whatever they conclude, the action eliminates the depot as a comm resource for us. Did you get the entire message on its way?"

"I don't know. The last fragment included the Point Icarus coordinates."

Their eyes met.

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

President Camari stonily contemplated the incomplete communication and turned to Intelligence Director Dynal. Ram sat immobile, nearby.

"Allen?" Camari's raised brows posed his question.

"We couldn't get through directly to Hanno to find out why the message was cut short. So we went spunnel to the Terminals and patched in to the Depot on coded conventional. Hanno reports his spunnel transmitter was destroyed. He was certain he was hoodwinked into permitting a saboteur aboard and screamed about a security breach on the Sentinel Support Plan. He said the 'saboteur' escaped before the alarm could be acted on. A d.a.m.ned lucky delay, I think."

"Did you enlighten Hanno?"

"No, sir. Too risky for Sentinel, and he has no need-to-know. I did tell him to run deep background checks and truth verification tests on all Depot personnel. He objected, thinking he had already pinpointed the culprit. I told him to do it anyhow, slap into the brig anyone who didn't pa.s.s, and report the results to me under highest cla.s.sification through the construction site's spunnel center."

"Good. No question they've been infiltrated. We must consider the depot compromised for cla.s.sified until Hanno a.s.sures us he's cleared the problem from his facility."

The President touched a b.u.t.ton on his desk, running the message through again in its entirety.

He switched the screen dark.

"The Outer Region's target might be the depot, but I wonder." Ram said. "Perhaps destroying the depot's spunnel transmitter is prelude to an attack. If it is, they must realize that the incident set off alarms throughout our defenses.

They'll also know we can maintain spunnel contact and relay messages to and from our patrollers and other craft through the construction site."

"Considering Hanno's report on what happened, the attack on his spunnel transmitter focused on keeping this message from getting through, not to merely destroy the machine. That alone would not have been worth the effort."

"We're down to one comm spunnel link in the Special Zone," Dynal added. "The one we built on Planet Pluto is controlled by Narval's people."

"Does Sentinel have access to the transmitter at the Terminals?"

"The sender would need to personally key in the clearances as well as the text," said Ram, "otherwise the message would be compromised.

Sentinel would be compromised. We do have the last resort."

"Have you checked it lately?"

"We run random tests from this end to be certain that it's ready to function. As you know, sir, it has its uncertainties and imposes a high price."

"Back to the message," Camari sighed and rubbed his temple gently as he pondered. "Their combined forces, and the distances involved, place us at an enormous disadvantage."

"Without question."