Provenance I - Flee The Bonds (37 page)

Read Provenance I - Flee The Bonds Online

Authors: V J Kavanagh

Tags: #artificial life, #combat, #dystopia, #dystopian, #future earth, #future society, #genetics, #inequality, #military, #robot, #robotics, #sci-fi, #science fiction, #social engineering, #space, #spaceship, #technology, #war

They bundled the unconscious Defender into the vacant cryotube and headed for the deck-car. By the time they’d reached it, Kacee had persuaded the Defender to exit by another route. Otherwise, she’d have had no choice but to neutralise him. Her faith in humanity had died long before her parents.

He pressed the deck-car call button and turned around. ‘Are you sure you can manage?’

Kacee had her arm around Penny, as did the surprisingly resilient Dobriana. ‘We’ll be fine, and thanks for . . .’ A vertical slit of light expanded to a doorway and a figural shadow fell upon the Defender. Kacee’s eyes widened. The Defender spun to face the deck-car, his right hand across his body searching for the pistol grip. The man in the deck-car retracted his fist.

Kacee let go of Penny and stepped forward, her head snapping left under the warm vomit like spray. The headless Defender collapsed to the floor, a cardinal red spurt accompanied each spasmodic twitch.

Through cloying splatter, Kacee blinked at the man immersed in the deck-car’s ghostly light; his tilted head seemingly mesmerised by his glistening red fist.

‘Go!’

Behind her, the squeaking footfalls receded. Kacee flexed her arms, her readiness focused on the man’s nanocrystalline eyes.

02:59 SUN 05:11:2119

Corridor 15-04-02, Provenance, LEO

Only SIS stood between Francois and control of Provenance. The assault through Core Command to the bridge would be the most difficult, the most dangerous. Someone had to lead it, someone who SIS would not want to harm.

He raised his left wrist. ‘Steve, where are you?’

‘Where are you?’

Francois glared at the blank MPS screen; Steve had masked his biofield again. ‘I am on deck fifteen, section four. That is where you should be.’

‘Sorry Francois, I misunderstood.’

‘I will meet with you on deck seven, maintenance section five. Be careful, Command report the Resistance are aboard.’

‘I know. I’ll see you up there.’

Francois dialled the MPS selector. ‘Bring them to maintenance, deck seven, section five.’ He knew Steve’s location, because Morton had been tracking them. Francois could not take command without Steve and Alex. The trigger and the carrier.

He nodded at the artificial standing by the sealed doorway. With a swish, the moulded white doors slid back to reveal another empty beige corridor. Francois stood and waved forward.

As the protector suits filed past, Francois’s eyes narrowed on a large man held against the wall by a much slender man.

He barged through the line of soldiers and stormed towards the confrontation.

His gaze fell to the holster under the slender man’s left arm. It held a Cogent. ‘What is the problem?’

The Advocate’s glare remained fixed on the larger man. ‘First Sergeant Nik Gorniak, sir. This idiot is wandering around with his safety off.’

‘Why are you here, First Sergeant? Advocates have been ordered to stay in the arrival hall and wait for orders.’

Francois received a sharp sideways stare. ‘I’m looking for Steve Arrowsbury. I heard he was up here.’


Captain
Arrowsbury is not here. Why do you want to see him?’

Gorniak released his grip and stepped back. ‘I’ve a message from Admiral Smithson.’

‘Tell me. I will give it to him.’

‘Can’t do that, sir. It’s F-To-F.’

‘Captain Arrowsbury is on deck fifteen. I do not know his precise location.’

‘Thanks, I’ll find him.’

Gorniak’s head swung back to the taller man. ‘What’s your CID?’

Francois ignored his soldier’s pleading eyes, ‘This is
my
command, First Sergeant.’

Gorniak made piercing eye contact. ‘Rumour has it; the Resistance have infiltrated CONSEC. One way to tell them apart is they don’t have valid CIDs.’ His glare shifted back up to the red-faced soldier clamped to the wall. ‘The
other
, is they don’t know how to carry a weapon properly.’

Francois smiled. ‘I guarantee that this man is under my command.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You have a message to deliver, yes?’

Gorniak turned and walked away. ‘Don’t blame me if you get shot in the back.’

Francois watched the Advocate disappear around the corner before glaring up. ‘Go to the front.’ He lifted his MPS. ‘Four-nine-three come to me.’

When the artificial arrived, Francois leaned in and extended his thumb. ‘Follow that Advocate, and at the first opportune moment confine him to a secure location.’

Francois had tried to coerce Admiral Smithson. Perhaps he had tried too hard.

 

* * * *
 

The expansive maintenance deck in section five swallowed their footfalls. A wasteland of polished metal gleamed under a stadium of lights. Francois’s nose twitched; the citrus taint of hyperlonic fuel spiked the tranquil air.

Yellow lines on the floor fanned out to the eight gigantic maintenance bays, their colossal numbered entrances sealed by one-metre thick blast doors. Above each one, a curved observation platform projected out like an enormous glass croissant.

Francois’s perusal halted at the door of bay 03. Behind it waited Cargo Vessel 05, and in segment three, his
cheval de Troie
. His
Garde Impériale
of two hundred AH-74s. They would obey only him, they had to. He had programmed them personally.

03:31 SUN 05:11:2119

Cryostasis Depot 17-11-33, Provenance, LEO

Cogent at the ready, Steve stepped out of the deck-car into the euthanasic solemnity of Depot 33. Tucking into the shade of the bulkhead, he led Dee towards the rotating red light.

‘Just one rack?’

Steve matched Dee’s hushed voice. ‘Exactly.’

‘Where’s Alex, we could use his eyes.’

Steve glanced at his blank MPS, ‘I think he might have gone to find Dobriana.’ When they next met, Steve would explain to Alex the concept of sticking to a plan.

He swung his Cogent right, stopped, and crouched. His periphery vision had detected something. His thumb rested on the Cogent’s serrated wheel. No, he couldn’t risk it. He gestured at Rack 64 and crept forward, the soles of his combat boots rolling out on the metal deck. It was clearer now, at the edge of the lowest tube, a hint of brown within the penumbra of the tube’s shadow.

‘CONSEC! Show yourself!’

Steve blinked. From the achromatic undersides of the first three tubes came a scrabble of dark colour. Limbs of orange, purple, and green sprouted into the aisle.

‘Steve!’ The orange arms wrapped around his waist. Neither the poor light nor Penny’s smile could hide the pain in her bloodshot eyes. The nanobytes were still at work. He looked up; his focus switching from the Dobriana’s swollen eyelids to Kacee’s eyes. She broke contact.

Steve held Penny’s shoulders, leant down, and kissed her forehead. ‘We have to go.’ His gaze lifted to Dobriana. ‘Can you see?’

‘Yes, but keep me away from mirror.’

Kacee stepped towards him, her blonde hair and purple tunic flecked with globules of dark coagulum. ‘He’s over by the other deck-car.’

The Cogent’s serrated wheel revolved under Steve’s thumb. He had no choice. He signalled for Dee to join them. ‘We’ll go back the way we came. You lead, I’ll cover.’

He turned to Kacee, ‘Stay behind Dee. If Morton shows, grab the other two and stay put.’

‘It’s not Morton, it’s someone who looks like you.’

Steve’s head swung to Dee. ‘Alex.’ His fist balled, MP 14, the Prefect. SIS had led him to
one
of the transducers, and he’d led them to Penny.

Dee’s eyes blazed, ‘Behind!’

Steve spun. Alex strolled out of the dark.

‘Hello, Steve.’

Steve levelled the Cogent. ‘Stop there.’

Alex complied, his facial actuators forming a puzzled expression in his tilted head, ‘I don’t understand, I saved them, a Defender was taking them to SIS.’

Kacee stepped in front of Penny. ‘The Defender was helping us. Until Alex killed him.’

Alex grinned. ‘Morton is coming.’

‘Dee, move!’ Steve walked backwards. Alex followed.

When they reached Rack 70, Steve stopped. ‘Okay Alex, we’re moving into the deck-car. You stay there.’ There was no winning hand. If he killed Alex, SIS would drift through space, everyone on Earth would die.

Steve lifted his foot, but before his sole touched the floor, the deck-car doors behind him opened. Light spread around his boots and a whip of adrenalin lashed his body. ‘Dee!’

‘It’s alright. I think.’

‘Steve Arrowsbury?’ The gruff voice sounded surprisingly calm considering the scenario.

Dee replied with equal composure, ‘Who are you?’

‘First Sergeant Nik Gorniak. I’ve a message for Steve Arrowsbury from Admiral Smithson.’

Steve took a step back, ‘Everyone move into the deck-car. Dee, take my Cogent and keep it on Alex.’

After the Cogent exchange, Steve turned around and approached the deck-car. He sniffed, and relaxed. ‘Hello Nik.’

Nik’s scarred chin crumpled into a smile. ‘Hi, sir. CID?’

Steve’s eyebrows flicked up. ‘74379015181226.’

Nik stared down at his MCD, ‘Can’t be too sure. Met some odd beanie above who’d forgotten his — that’s fine, sir.’ He looked up. ‘Admiral said he’s knocking on the door. I guess that means something to you.’

Steve nodded. It did. The problem was the chief component of his plan B was Alex. ‘Yes, thanks. Can you stay? We could use another Cogent.’

‘Sorry, sir. Got an AH tailing me, better find out why.’

‘Sure, good—’ Steve’s body twisted, his Cogent sliced through the cool air. A blur to a human, but not an AH. The plasma ball evaporated the darkness, illuminating the pale bulkhead on the right, and flashing off the tubes of Rack 70 to the left. Distance was against him, Morton had already stepped aside.

The ball struck the far wall and exploded in a blinding flash. Jagged white tendrils spat out, searching for something to cling to. They found nothing, and instead imploded into a glowing orange disc.

Steve held out his left hand. ‘Penny, Kacee, Dobriana

into deck-car. Dee, swap out the Cogents. Nik, the lights.’

Ambient blocks of sterility stepped towards them, lifting the veil of darkness from the blue and white racks. Steve blinked; Morton had vanished.

Steve’s head jolted right, long fingers with pearlescent nails rested on his shoulder plate, ‘Go, I’ll hold Morton.’

His mind flashed back. Kacee might be different, but she definitely wasn’t an AH. ‘He’ll kill you, besides we need Alex.’

‘It was you!’

Steve turned around. Penny stood in the deck-car doorway, her wide eyes thrusting at Kacee. ‘It was you that day wasn’t it? You poisoned me.’

Kacee’s head dropped. ‘You don’t understand, I—’

‘Steve!’ Dee’s ferocious glare shot up over Steve’s head.

Morton had leapt from the top of the rack, his closed hand striking Steve’s left forearm guard. The Cogent clattered onto the deck.

Although disparity in reaction time wasn’t as great as it should have been, Morton still had the advantage. As Steve’s hand dropped towards the Cogent, Morton grabbed his shoulder plates and threw him up against the wall. Steve twisted his head, his left cheekbone taking the brunt of the impact.

The deck-car doors remained open. Dee had his arm wrapped around Penny, her face contorted into a scream. Someone was missing. A splintering crack preceded Kacee’s piercing cry.

Before Steve could react, his vision disintegrated into shards of sickly yellow; his chest plates creaked under the blow, ribs popped. Kacee’s echoing cry drowned in his own.

Steve collapsed to the floor, his chest seized by crippling pain. Morton’s anvil like fist had hammered the staples. He raised his head in time to see Kacee scrabble to her feet. Her right arm dangled and above her drooping shoulders, her face wilted. He followed her despondent gaze to the closing deck-car doors.

Penny’s desperate shout spilled out. ‘Wait!’

A combat boot protruded through the gap, jamming the doors. Steve twisted around. Morton wriggled in an agitated smear, Alex held on, arms wrapped, teeth bared. ‘Shoot him!’ He’d conquered his alter ego.

Steve snatched up the Cogent and hesitated. Alex would never look the same again — but he’d survive. He took careful aim.

Morton stiffened, and then sagged in Alex’s arms.

Steve eased up and expanded his aching chest, hoping that the warm slime oozing down his back was from the burst GelPlas. ‘You can let go now.’

Alex opened his arms, allowing Morton to collapse into a jumble of limbs. ‘Have I killed him?’

Steve closed the distance and stared down. A faceless mannequin stared back. ‘No, he’s been reassigned. Give me your interface plug and lie down.’

Alex did as told. Steve knelt, extracted an interface pin from the side of his MCD and inserted it into the tooth cavity. By this time, an audience had gathered.

‘What are you doing?’ Penny’s voice subdued Steve’s anger. ‘Alex managed to trigger his core programming, but SIS will attempt to re-establish control. I need to take him offline until we can scan for the remaining transducers.’ Steve tapped the MCD, Alex’s eyes closed, his head rolled to one side.

Penny leant in. ‘Why hasn’t his face changed like the other one?’

Steve swung his head towards the vacuous AH crumpled nearby. ‘I don’t know, different model I guess.’ He stood and glanced around. Dee rested against the wall, Nik stood by the deck-car. ‘Dee, cover us. Nik, lock the doors open and help me with Alex.’ Steve reached down, and grabbed Alex’s shoulder plate strap. His shoulder raged heat, but he wasn’t the priority. He calculated Penny had less than nine hours. As soon as Alex came back online, she’d go into surgery.

He’d speak with Kacee later. Unless Penny died.

With everyone in the deck-car he turned to Nik. ‘We’ll go to the MEDLAB first, then you can go and find your AH.’

‘Sure thing, sir. What’s the DC?’

‘06-21-15.’

Steve pulled on his gloves and as the doors began to close, he turned to Penny. Blanched by unforgiving light her face appeared blotchy, dark lines encircled her eyes. She didn’t return his smile, instead her bloodshot eyes flared.

Dee’s voice bellowed in the stainless steel box, ‘Steeeve!’

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