Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (41 page)

“Old man? Ha. I suppose he is, isn’t he?”

“Yes, sir.”

He studied me for a while more, a nostalgic look upon his face. He turned to face Art after a while.

“What about you? You the offspring of any of my old enemies?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir.” she was taking a page out of my book.

He appeared deep in thought for a few more moments before addressing us again.

“So the Protectorate are not coming?”

“No, sir,” I answered, “They’ll be shutting down the system’s Jump Gate in a couple of weeks. This is the last chance you’ll get to be able leave. I strongly suggest you also allow your people to leave with you.”

“Why?”

It was my turn to get frustrated. “Because of the army coming to kill everybody!”

“You don’t think my boys can handle them?”

“No, sir.”

He nodded to himself. “I don’t think so, either.”

He looked down at the desk, hand on his chin in thought.

“Can you tell me something?” I asked.

He looked up at me, eyebrows raised.

“Why are they raiding like this? Why are those people killing everyone?”

He gave a short huff. “They don’t kill everyone. They used to recruit. Convert or die, that age old ultimatum.”

“Convert?”

He looked over us, taking in the survivors of Naga Team this time.

“I know now why you have Protectorate dogs with you – they’re here to make sure I let these people get out with me, aren’t they?”

“No, sir. I’m here for that.”

“Are you now?” his smile returned, “You’re a lot like Heiron, you know?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You got balls. I’ll give you that. Not many people would talk to me that way. Not here, not back in Protectorate space, either.”

“I’m not many people.”

“No, you’re a Donovan. It’s because of that that I’m going to let you keep those balls you’re so proud of.”

“Thank you, sir.” I could see Art getting anxious in the corner of my eye. I knew it was dangerous to bait this man, but something about him set my danger sense on edge.

“So let me get this straight. You,” he said, pointing at Art, “are Benedict’s agent. Your job is to get me out of here. You,” he pointed at me, “your job was to get her here, but your Donovan morals have made you want to step in and rescue as many innocents as possible. That about right, Miss Derris?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You never answered my question.” I said.

“No, I didn’t. I bet you have a whole galaxy of other questions too. Where is the Ghantri Fleet? What are all those strange symbols everywhere? What were the Ghantri looking for in the asteroids? Why did the Betrayal ever happen?”

I turned to look at Kekkin and the others.

“Yes I do.”

“You ask a lot. But I am a generous man. I can certainly answer a few of those questions. One thing my old man taught me, though, was that realisation was better than explanation.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m going to cut you a deal. I’ll take you up on your offer. I’ll take this ride through this Jump Gate, and I’ll take as many people with me as I can.”

I suddenly felt a weight fall off my shoulders.

“Thank you, sir.” I said, and I meant it.

“On one condition,” he held up a bony finger, “You kill someone for me.”

I looked at Artemis, worry clear on her face.

“Who? Why?”

“Who – I’ll sort that out next. Why? Isn’t the fact that you’ll be responsible for saving all these people reason enough?”

“Why do you want them dead?”

He grinned, teeth flashing like a
galab
. “Why I want them dead is tied into that first question – Who. If I’m to get off this cursed station, I want to be sure that one being is dead before I go.”

“Who?”

“Now you’re talking like one of my own. The ‘Why’ doesn’t matter. Only the ‘Who’.”

“Who?” I repeated, fists clenched at my sides.

“Who is the answer to many of your questions. Have you ever met a Ghantri Sectis?”

“No.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. The Sectis are the ‘Who’. They are also the ‘Why’. They the ‘How’, the ‘Where’ and the ‘What’. The Sectis are the everything. Everything you seek to know about the Gossamer System is the Sectis. And there is one Sectis on Ambrose Station.”

A cog turned, a light switched on, a sensor beacon pinged inside my mind.

“A religious caste Ghantri?”

Osiris smiled an evil grin, nodding slowly.

“The Ghantri are converting the refugees out there?”

“Convert or die.”

“For what purpose?”

He shrugged. “Maybe they want an army. There are several more, just like this horde. They’ve already wiped out the other settlements. ”

“That’s it? That’s all you know?”

“I know where the Sectis is. You can get the rest of the information from it. Then you kill it. You do that, I’ll make sure every man, woman and child here gets through your Jump Gate.”

“Deal.” I shook his hand, and he nodded.

“I’ll have my people give you lodgings here for the time being. Your wounded can rest while you do it.” he indicated Rego, still propped up against Renthal.

I turned and walked out, Naga Team following on my heels.

65.

True to his word, Osiris sent a lackey to show us to some vacant rooms in his tower. There were many people moving about, on various tasks. There seemed to be a lot going on – preparation for the coming battle, no doubt. I questioned our guide about the source of the technology we saw and he muttered something about scout teams and salvage crews. He didn’t elaborate, except to say that the ‘General’ had been gathering the tech for years.

So Osiris calls himself General,
I thought,
I wonder if it was self-appointed or awarded.

Our quarters were sparse, but functional. One of the many barracks stationed in the tower. Seemed that Osiris’ soldiers were given lodgings in the heart of this stronghold, while the civilians lived and worked in the fields outside. I tried not to feel cynical about it, these men and women were doing the best they could to defend those weaker than themselves, but I couldn’t shake the feeling they were being used somehow.

Maybe it was just my bullshit detector going into overdrive around Blackburn.

We collected our gear from outside and stowed it inside the walls, then made sure Rego was comfortable. His painkillers were all gone, and his wounds were giving him grief. Some natural rest would do him some good. We were interrupted by the arrival of Alexander, carrying a bundle of folded maps.

He tossed them on the nearest bunk. “The General asked me to give you these. I’m to lead a scout team to guide you to the Sectis as well.”

“What can you tell us about it?” I asked.

“Not much. No one has seen it. Not really.” he said, apologetically.

“No one has seen it?” asked Renthal, “How do you know where it is, then?”

“We track it by the effect it has.”

“Explain.” ordered Kekkin.

“Where ever it travels, it always seems to draw the more fanatical converts to it’s location. They’re stronger and faster, as well.”

“When the converts are near the Sectis, they’re augmented somehow?” I asked.

“Yes. We’ve been doing hit and fade attacks along this industrial concourse,” he explained, drawing his finger down one of the maps, “About here, we started to see the effects of the Sectis – mortal wounds ignored, incredibly accurate throws of their spears and bow shots. They wouldn’t fall back, fighting to the last instead of digging in.”

“Do they care about their safety? Or do they rush into oncoming fire?” I asked.

“They run at us like madmen.” he whispered. His stare took on a faraway look.

“Have you ever captured one?”

“Several times, but when we try to take then back to the university they have convulsions and die before we get them here.”

“Suicide pill?” Harris asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Art, “they would have secured the prisoners fairly well. Especially after the first few died.”

“Did you keep the bodies?” I asked.

“We still have two here,” replied Alexander, “We haven’t had time to burn them yet. Why?”

“I’d like to examine them, please.”

“Okay, shouldn’t we be going, though? The raiders will be here in a day, the Sectis needs to be killed before then.”

“The key to any victory is intelligence.” stated Kekkin, giving me a knowing nod.

“I’d like to know how these raiders are being augmented before we attack. We need to know if it’s something we can neutralise or if it will affect us.”

Alexander led us down to the base of the tower, and across the field to a building set up as a hospital. In the basement was a functional morgue. An orderly pointed out the bodies for us to examine and we placed them on a set of examination tables.

One of the bodies was human, while the other was an Orlii. Both had non-fatal wounds, but their faces were twisted in horrid fashion – as if in the grip of pain.

“What are we doing here, boss?” asked Renthal, unease clear in his voice.

I picked up a scalpel and made a small incision on the human’s arm. They had been dead for nearly two days, so their flesh had begun to return to a flaccid state. I activated my battlenet connection.

Ormund, I need an analysis of a blood and tissue sample I’m sending you. Get it to Zoe.

Standing by.

I activated my Scan Paradigm, letting the nanites explore the dead flesh, the thick, congealed blood that oozed from the wound. I did the same to the Orlii body. Lastly, I picked up a cranial drill and took a sample of their brain matter. It was gruesome work, but if the effect was biological or chemical – we had to know how to defend against it. A simple suit breach might be enough for us to become infected.

When I had a full spectrum of data prepared, I sent it to Ormund. Fifteen minutes passed before I received a reply.

Ms. Ward says that there are trace amounts of an unknown chemical compound within the blood samples, but the most troubling is the brain samples. She said they are almost total devoid of normal neural transmitters – dopomine, serotonin, GABA. She also says that norepinephrine levels are through the roof.

What can she tell me about this chemical in the blood?

Wait one…she says she doesn’t recognise it. She’s sure it’s indigenous to the planet Ghan, or was at least developed locally.

What does it do?

No way to know without more information and research.

I swore under my breath. I explained about the bodies, and the effects they exhibited.

She says that the levels of naturally occurring chemicals in the samples indicates that they were definitely augmented somehow. Are you sure there are no bio-augs in the bodies?

I checked with my nanites, they showed they were both young enough to have been born on Ambrose, with no augs – Bio or otherwise.

She says that the deaths, and the samples, show that they may have died of withdrawal. The chemical found in the blood could be a narcotic, which produces the effects witnessed, which these crazies need to take regularly. Would explain why they stay near the Sectis – and why they died within hours of removal from the source.

“Help me examine the skin,” I said to the others, going over the arms and neck, “Look for needle marks, injector scars or chem-patch stains.”

After a while, we gave up.
Can’t find any signs of regular drug use. How would they be taking it?

Zoe says it could be an aerosol. It would have to be fast acting, so orally is out of the question.

So this Sectis thing sprays clouds of this drug wherever it goes?

Could be. In smaller doses, the drug could also be used to convert these people. What better reward than the added strength and toughness to fight?

I was suddenly reminded of the drug deal I had helped set up, back on Eridani Station. My blood ran cold as I recalled the ampoules that the black market trafficker Wilson Graham had stolen. I sent Ormund the data from that deal, but I didn’t explain where I’d gotten it from.

Zoe says it’s a match. It’s the same chemical as the traces found in the blood.

Is there enough data to formulate an antidote, or a defence against this?

Wait one…yes. Zoe says she can do it, but she’ll need an hour. She says we have enough AI cores here to work a solution.

What will I need to produce the serum?

Sending you a list of equipment that can do the job.

Thanks.

I grabbed a tablet from my pack and transferred the list to it, then passed it to Alexander.

“Can you find out if you have any of these items here?”

He nodded, leaving at a run.

“Why don’t we just wear our M4 MAEL’s with full life support?” asked Renthal.

“When was the last time you did a suit integrity test?”

He frowned. “It’s repairable.”

“Not full seal. You’ll have enough insulation to survive in vacuum, but you won’t have full integrity against biological or chemical weapons. I’m not willing to take that risk. Not yet, anyway. If we can synthesise an antidote against this, it’s our best shot.”

“
Naga-zak
is right,” said Kekkin, “If we fail, these people will need a defence against the
calak
drug. May be the only hope they have of defending against the Ghantri Sectis and it’s horde.”

No pressure,
I thought,
a few thousand lives depending on me is all.