The Nexus Series: Books 1-3 (37 page)

26

ON
the other side of the door—however sure Dizzie and Amber had been about their
warnings—was a room.  It seemed to be unoccupied at the moment.  They
stepped inside.

It was a computer
laboratory.  Most of the wide room was divided into workstations. 
Empty chairs sat before idle computers.  A few dimmed lamps reflected on
the polished black floor.  There were round windows in the far wall above
the workstations.  Behind the thick circles of glass was the murky darkness
of the lake’s water.

“They built this
place,” mused Corey.  “They’re not just using an abandoned section of the
tunnels.  They constructed a brand new base of operations with access to
the Dark Beneath.”

“Not the weapons
stash we were expecting,” Jill noted.  “What were they doing here?”

“You were right,
Corey,” said Bradley.  He pointed to an elevator set in the wall a few
paces away from the door they’d just used.  “I wonder where in the city
that comes from.”

“I have no idea
what’s above us,” said Corey.  “You lose your sense of direction down
here.  And we can’t ask Dizzie.  Our communication is still cut off.”

“They probably
think we’re dead,” said Jill.  “One of us has to go back where they can
hear us and let them know we’re okay.”

“Wait,” Bradley whispered,
holding up a silencing hand.  “Did you hear that?”

The muffled sound
of a voice was coming from behind a closed door to one side of the room.

THE
depths of the lake were eerily dark through the office’s round
window.   The man with the long gray ponytail stood before it as he
spoke into his phone.  “That’s correct:  The testing will begin
tomorrow.”

His assistant, a
pudgy little man with greasy hair, idled by the desk and waited for the
conversation to conclude.  He didn’t mean to keep looking at the glowing
red eye of the eagle on the wall, but somehow he found his gaze repeatedly
drawn to it.

“Yes, I’ll
personally accompany the team that will escort you here.  Where shall we
meet you?...Very good.  Until then.”  The man with the ponytail hung up
the phone.  “Everything is ready,” he told his assistant, leading the way
to the door exiting the office.

“Great,” the
pudgy man said as they stepped out into the computer lab.  They walked
past the rows of empty workstations.  “What time should I be here
tomorrow?”

“Not until the
tests begin—around noon.  But leave your briefcase here.”

“Are you sure?”
the assistant asked, obviously uncomfortable.  “It hasn’t left my side
since—”

“I know. 
But our chief programmer has some last-minute work to do before the testing can
begin.  He’ll be here sometime tonight—or early in the morning, more
likely.  Don’t worry, it’ll be perfectly safe down here.”

“I
s’pose
,” the assistant said grudgingly.  He placed the
briefcase in plain sight on a table at the end of a row of computer
workstations.  Then the two men called the elevator, stepped inside, and
vanished behind the closing doors.

Jill, Corey, and
Bradley had dived silently behind the workstation dividers just as the office
door had opened.  Now they ventured out from their hiding place.

A quick look at
the briefcase told them they wouldn’t be opening it easily.

“Looks like it
requires prints,” said Jill, studying the elaborate locking mechanism.

“Too bad we
didn’t know that a minute ago,” lamented Bradley.  “We could have stunned
him and borrowed his finger.”

Corey shook his
head.  “It’s better this way.  We can’t let them know we’re onto
them.  We need them to proceed with their plans so we can observe what
they’re up to.”

“You want to bug
the place?”

“Wouldn’t do any
good,” said Jill.  “We wouldn’t get the feed.  They’ve obviously set
up some kind of signal jammer.”

“What about the
elevator?” said Bradley.

Corey
smiled.  “Good thinking.”

SIX
stories directly above the room, a cluster of shops sat on the southern shore
of the lake.  The little shopping area had been constructed last
year.  It primarily served the tourists who flocked year-round to the
nearby Strickland Beach area.  Daytime hours saw droves of people milling
in and out of the stores and sipping coffee or eating sandwiches on patios
overlooking the water.

At the moment the
place was dead.  Night had fallen two hours ago, and the distant orb of
the Home Planet was darkening as well.  The shops, patios, and parking
lots were deserted.

One of the shops had
a display window full of various knickknacks.  CURIOSITIES KILLED THE CAT,
the sign over the door proclaimed.  The papers for this particular vendor
space had been signed the moment the shopping area had been announced, a full
year before its construction.  The buyer was a mild-mannered man with a
long gray ponytail.

The elevator
doors opened, and Corey and Jill stepped into a cramped, unlit room in the back
of Curiosities Killed the Cat.

“Dizzie, can you
hear us now?” Jill asked for the third time in a row.

For the third
time the only response was silence.

“Weird—she should
be able to hear you,” Bradley’s voice crackled in their ears.  He’d
stepped back into the tunnels, away from the communications block, and they’d
been in touch with him moments after the elevator began ascending.

“Why can’t we get
through to them?” Jill wondered aloud.

“They probably
came after us when they thought we’d flooded the tunnel,” said Corey.

“Yeah, but we
should still be able to reach Diz on her mobile.”

“We’ll keep trying,”
Corey said hopefully.

They started
setting up surveillance in the shop.  They wouldn’t be able to watch the
room five stories below, but at least they’d be able to watch who came and
went.

“Weird to think
of a crook moonlighting as a trinket salesman,” said Corey.

“It takes all
kinds to make a criminal ring,” said Jill.

They tried to
reach Dizzie again as they descended the elevator.  No luck.

BEFORE
they returned to the tunnels, they grabbed the pudgy assistant’s briefcase.

“Dizzie will know
how to break into this without leaving a trace,” said Corey.

“Those men said
that programmer will be here looking for it soon,” Jill reminded him.

“We’ll check it
out and bring it back here as quickly as possible.”

“We don’t know
when the programmer will show up,” said Bradley.  “What if he gets here
before we’ve returned the briefcase?”

“We’ll just have
to take a chance,” said Corey.  “Whatever’s inside here is obviously
important.  It may give us a clue about what they’re up to.  We’ll
hurry.”

“It’s hard to
hurry waiting for the crawlers to scout things out.”

“Forget the
crawlers.  Let’s get moving.”

THEY
ran.  Tunnels and passages, walkways and ramps, went by in a blur. 
Corey led the way.

At the bottom of
a curving cement-slab staircase, he paused.

“What’s up?” Jill
asked, nearly running into him.

“Which way did we
come from?” asked Corey, checking out the two branching passages at the
intersection.

Out of
communication with home base, they’d been retracing their steps from memory as
well as they could.

“This way,” Jill
and Bradley said simultaneously.  They were pointing opposite directions.

“I remember that
hallway,” Bradley insisted.

“Then why do I
remember
that
hallway?” countered Jill.

Bradley
shrugged.  “You can’t remember a place you’ve never been.”

“Which makes me
wonder why
you’re
claiming to remember being over
there
.”

“Okay, okay,”
said Corey, “let’s calm down, here.  We’ll scout out each direction, and
see if anything jogs our memories.”

“We’re losing
time,” complained Bradley.

“We can’t take a
chance on getting lost,” said Corey.

“We’re not
lost.  We came from this direction!”

“We
will
be lost if we go that way,” said Jill.

Corey wasn’t one
to raise his voice very often, but he did now:  “Both of you
shut
up.  Now
.”

They obeyed.

“We’re in a tough
spot,” Corey went on, back to his usual tone of voice.  “The only thing to
do is cooperate and keep our heads level.”

Jill took a deep
breath.  “You’re right.  Let’s try Bradley’s way first.”

Nothing in that
branch of the passage rang a bell.  They backtracked and tried Jill’s
direction.  Nothing there rang a bell either.

“Do you even
remember these stairs?” Corey asked back at the intersection.

“I think so,”
said Bradley.  “But these tunnels all look the same.”

“We’re lost,”
said Jill, “aren’t we?”

“It looks that
way,” said Corey.  “Okay, let’s not panic, here.”

Bradley’s tone of
voice told them he’d already disregarded that idea:  “So which way do we
go?  We can’t just wander around aimlessly!”

Corey pondered
their options.

Then they heard
footsteps.  A figure appeared at one end of the hallway.  Their night
vision couldn’t make out any features from this distance, but it sure looked
like whoever it was had a gun.

They backed
instinctively up the stairway out of sight.

They could hear
the figure running toward them and yelling—a growling male voice.

They crouched on
the stairs.  Jill and Bradley’s guns were already drawn.  Corey was
clutching the briefcase.

“Take it,”
Bradley urged.  “We’ll hold him off.”

Corey nodded,
turned, and dashed up the stairs.

Bradley reached
his gun around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and fired into the
passageway.

The approaching
footsteps haltered.  “Someone’s down here,” the growly voice reported to
an unknown accomplice.  “Take another route!”

Jill and Bradley
exchanged a knowing look.

Bradley fired a
few more shots around the corner.

Jill dropped flat
on the floor and slid out into the hallway.  She saw the figure crouching
several paces away.  She’d pulled the trigger three times before she
stopped sliding.

All three
stunners found their mark.

She and Bradley
examined the unconscious man.  Jill recognized him—Doreen Maybury’s stooge
from the conservatory.

COREY
clutched the briefcase as he ran.  He heard the gunshots echoing down the
stairway behind him.

“He’s down, Cor,”
Jill reported in his earpiece.  “But he’s got friends somewhere
nearby.  We’ll find them.  Just keep that briefcase safe.”

“I will,” said
Corey.  The passage dead-ended and he whipped around a corner.

The collision
knocked him to the floor.

He’d run into a
woman, and dropped the briefcase in the process.  She’d dropped a
gun.  They both went for the gun.

The woman got to
it first.  She leaped to her feet.  “What are you doing down here?”
she demanded.

Corey didn’t
answer.

Her finger closed
around the trigger.

A shot echoed in
the hallway.

27

THE
woman crumpled to the floor.

Down the passage
behind her stood Amber.  Smoke drifted from her leveled gun.

Dizzie peeked
timidly from behind Amber.  “Are we good?”

“She’s down,”
Amber confirmed.

Corey just
stared.

Dizzie smiled
lamely and help up her mobile.  The screen was black.  “Sorry—guess I
should’ve charged the battery this afternoon.”

“DOREEN
Maybury,” Jill confirmed, examining the stunned woman.  Bradley was
guarding the other unconscious man around the corner and down the stairs.

“We don’t have
time to drag them back to base,” said Corey.

“What’s the
hurry?” Amber asked.

He showed them
the briefcase.  “Dizzie, can you open this?”

She heaved on
last breath and checked the brand name embossed on the case.  “Would you
believe I’ve broken into one of these things before?”

“Yes,” they all
answered.

She tried—and
failed—not to look huffy while she slid her fingers around the print
reader.  It popped off, still connected by a series of wires.  She
took a bobby pin out of her hair and fed it between two of the wires. 
“Got it,” she announced.

“It’s open?”
Amber asked, impressed.

“Nope,” said
Dizzie.  She removed the bobby pin.  She’d used it like tiny surgeon’s
forceps to remove a small electronic part from the locking mechanism. 
“But I think I have the equipment to reprogram this back at the base.”

JILL
and Bradley guarded the unconscious Doreen and her pal while the others
returned to temporary HQ.  Dizzie was able to connect the chip to her
computer and perform the necessary actions.  She reinserted it into the
briefcase’s print reader.  The case clicked open.

The foam bed
inside contained nothing but a folder and five narrow glass cylinders, which
appeared to be empty.  Inside the folder was a stack of
papers—professionally drafted construction blueprints for...

Something
unrecognizable.

It was a kind of
machine; that was all they could tell at first glance.  The document’s
title called it
Project RedEyez—Version 7.2
.  Further perusal
showed that the blob of mechanized parts included several “lenses,” “audio
inputs,” and something called “independent thrusters” and “remote thrusters”
jutting from the object.  The core of the thing seemed to be nothing but a
computer and a small engine.

“Well, what is
it?” Bradley’s voice buzzed over the speakers.  He and Jill had remained
in the tunnels to guard the unconscious prisoners for the time being. 
“Either tell us about it or put a camera on it for us.”

“Plans for some
sort of surveillance tool?” Corey guessed aloud.

“Kind of
cumbersome for surveillance, don’t you think?” said Amber.

Dizzie shook her
head and pointed.  “Look at the dimensions.  These ‘RedEyez’ are
invisible to the naked eye.”

Corey
shrugged.  “Microscopic spy gear is nothing new.”

“Still, it’s a
little scary to see it in Sketch’s hands,” said Amber.

Dizzie shook her
head as she flipped through the pages of blueprints.  “This is way more
advanced than anything we use at the department.  This thing flies on its
own, guided by an AI navigational tool.  The cameras may be tiny, but they
capture images and video at a way higher definition than my mobile does. 
It’s weatherproof.  It knows when to fly back home to get the battery
recharged.  I could go on and on.”

“If Sketch builds
this thing,” Corey mused, “who knows what he could use it for?”

Dizzie swallowed
as she flipped to the last page.  “According to these records, it’s
already built.  And they didn’t just manufacture one.”  She looked up
at them gravely.  “They’ve got five hundred of ’
em
.”

They looked at
the glass cylinders.

Amber
swallowed.  “How much money do you think these are worth?”

“Why would they
need so many?” Dizzie wondered.  “What’s the point of gathering so much
data?”

“They’re really doing
it, aren’t they?” Corey whispered.  “Except that they won’t tap into
public surveillance like we do; they’ll have their own surveillance around the
city—
everywhere
around the city.  These RedEyez can travel
unimpeded, anywhere they want to go, into people’s houses and cars...”

“What are you
saying?” Bradley’s voice asked.

“He’s saying,”
Jill’s voice answered gravely, “they’re building their own Sherlock.”

COREY
met Jill and Bradley in the passage where they watched the still-unconscious
Doreen and her partner.  He’d brought the luggage cart to more easily
transfer the prisoners to the base.  They hoisted the two bound-and-gagged
forms onto the cart.

Corey handed Jill
the briefcase.  “Do you mind?”

“I’d rather do
that than wheel these two around.”

“Just drop it off
and get out.”

“Actually, if
it’s okay with you, there’s one other thing I’d like to do.”

SHE
was
staring down the long, dark passage again.  A few more steps and she’d be
out of communication with the home base.

“Anything, Diz?”

“Negative,”
Dizzie’s voice reported.  “No activity in the curiosity shop.  You
should be clear.”

“I’m going in.”

“Hurry up!”

“I wasn’t exactly
planning on lollygagging.”

“On
what
-
ing
?” Dizzie asked as her voice faded into static.

Jill turned the
wheel until the big door swung open.  She closed it behind her as she
stepped inside the room—a laboratory, they’d decided it was.  First things
first, she lay the briefcase back on the table where the assistant had left it
originally.

Now, to find the
signal jammer.  If she could disable it, they could set up surveillance in
the lab.  It would probably be in the long-haired man’s office, she
decided.

The door was
locked.  Her pick made short work of that.

Then she was
looking into the red eye of the eagle displayed on the wall behind the
desk.  It seemed to be staring back at her, warning her.

She looked away.

BRADLEY
wanted to rouse the prisoners and question them the moment they got back to the
base.  Corey insisted they transfer them back to HQ and let professional
interrogators handle it.

Their argument
was interrupted by an exclamation from Dizzie.  “Someone’s there!”

They ran across
the lobby to her station.  Her screen showed a live view of the curiosity
shop’s service door opening.

“The programmer,”
said Corey.

A figure stepped
into the shop’s back room and flipped the light on.  He moved toward the
elevator.

“Wait a minute,”
said Amber, “isn’t that...?”

“Yep,” said
Dizzie.

Corey
grimaced.  “It’d be nice if we could warn Jill.”

A
quick but thorough search of the office revealed nothing.  Jill went to
the door.

Across the lab,
she saw the elevator doors opening.

She darted back
into the office.  She could hear the programmer walking across the lab
floor, picking up the briefcase, walking a few more steps, sitting at a
computer and powering it on.

He wouldn’t be
looking this direction.  She risked a peek out the door.

Her heart skipped
a beat.  There was no mistaking that big afro in the glow of the computer
screen.