“We are on the same side, Lieutenant Hewlett.”
“Sure thing, Doc. I was in the courtroom. Remember that.”
“I am on record as objecting to that adventure. Couteur is extremely duplicitous, and intelligent. It is a bad combination.”
“We’ll bear that in mind. Now how many of the lab staff have you accounted for?”
Gilmore glanced along the main corridor running round the laboratory complex. Several of the silvery doors were open, with
people peering out nervously. “Nine have not responded to my general datavise.”
“Shit!” Murphy accessed the floor plan file in his neural nanonics. The laboratory complex covered two levels; essentially
a ring of research labs on top of the environmental and power systems, with storage and engineering facilities included. “Okay,
everyone is to return to their office or lab, wherever they are now. The existing marine detail is to stay with them and guard
against intrusion. I don’t want anyone moving round except for my squad, and that includes you, Doctor. Then I want an AI
brought on-line to monitor the complex’s processors for glitches.”
“We’re doing that already,” Gilmore said.
“And it can’t find her?”
“Not yet. Jacqueline knows how we track possessed, of course. She will be concealing her power. Which means she will be vulnerable
during the first few seconds after you locate her.”
“Yeah. Tell you, it’s all good news, this assignment, Doc.”
The procedure Murphy initiated was a simple enough one; five marines were left behind to cover the door in case Couteur made
a break for it. Unlikely, Murphy admitted to himself, but with her there was always the prospect of double bluff. The remainder
of the squad he split into two groups, going in opposite directions to work their way round the ring. Each laboratory was
examined in turn, using electronic warfare blocks and infrared (in case Couteur was disguising herself as a piece of equipment).
All the staff were tested and verified; they then had to leave their neural nanonics open to the CNIS office overseeing the
mission, to confirm they weren’t being possessed after the marines left. One room at a time, and even scanning the corridor
walls as they progressed. Murphy was leaving absolutely nothing to chance.
He led the group going counterclockwise from the door. The laboratory corridor might have been a much simpler geometry than
Lalonde’s jungle, denying her any real ambush opportunity, but he couldn’t get rid of the old feeling that the enemy was right
behind him. Several times he caught himself turning to stare past the marines following along behind. That wasn’t good, because
it made them jumpy, distracted. He concentrated hard on the curving space ahead, securing each empty room. Taking it a stage
at a time, setting a proper example.
Despite the jumble of equipment in most labs, it was a simple enough task to scan their sensors round. The scientists and
technicians inside were profoundly relieved to see them, although each welcome was subdued. Every time, they were checked
out then sealed in.
The biological isolation facility, where Couteur had been held, was the ninth room Murphy visited. Its door had been forced
half-way open, buckled metal runners preventing it from moving further. Murphy signalled the technical sergeant forward. He
flattened himself against the wall, and gingerly extended a sensor block around the edge of the door.
“Clean sweep,” the sergeant reported. “If she’s in there, she’s not in range.”
It was a perfect double cover advance into the room. The marines deployed inside, scanning every centimetre as they went.
A glass wall divided the room in half, with a large oval hole smashed through it. That, Murphy was expecting, along with the
bodies torn by unpleasantly familiar deep char marks. There was a surgical table on the other side of the glass, surrounded
by equipment stacks. Tubes and wires were strewn around it, a complement to the limb restraint straps which hung limply over
the edges where they’d been severed.
Who could really blame the occupant for breaking free? Murphy didn’t appreciate being made to ask that question.
They left two sensor blocks behind to cover the broken door as they filed out, in case she returned. The next room, an office,
had one of Couteur’s other victims sprawled on the carpet. They scanned the corpse first, and applied the static sensor. Murphy
wasn’t going to be caught out that way.
But it was a genuine corpse, with a large number of small burns and several broken bones. A characteristics scan confirmed
it was Eithne Cramley, one of the physics department technicians. Murphy was sure Couteur had tried to make Cramley submit
to possession, but wouldn’t have had enough time to make a success of the process. The rest of the room was empty. They sealed
it and moved on.
It took ninety minutes for the two marine groups to meet up. All they’d found was six of the staff who didn’t respond to Gilmore’s
datavise.
“Looks like she’s lurking in the basement,” he told them. He ordered ten marines to stand guard at the top of the stairs,
and took the remainder down with him. This, he thought, was more her territory. The construction crew hadn’t lavished the
same kind of care down here as they had up in the ring of laboratories. They’d made it spacious enough, and well lit; but
in the end it was just six caverns drilled in a line to house utility systems.
Again the marines deployed in perfect formation when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Murphy supervised them with growing
unease. His heart rate now had to be regulated by his neural nanonics he was wired so tight, even the regenerated flesh on
the fingers of his left hand was tingling with phantom sensation. He just wished it was a reliable way of warning him a possessed
was coming close. With each meter they advanced he was expecting Couteur to launch some vicious attack. He just couldn’t understand
what she was doing. Most likely scenario was that the three staff they hadn’t located yet were now possessed. But she would
know he’d be working on that assumption. There was nothing in this for her. Except being free of her bondage for a few hours.
A reasonable enough impetus for most people. Murphy couldn’t forget that voyage back to Trafalgar on the
Ilex
, the wearisome power struggle she’d waged against her captors the whole time. It hadn’t taken him long to realize she’d allowed
herself to be captured, making a mockery of poor old Regehr’s terrible burns.
Advantage, that was her sole ambition, gaining the upper hand. This escape couldn’t provide that for her. Not unless there
was some enormity he’d overlooked. He felt as though his brain was being fossilised by the pressure of worry.
“Sir,” the marine on point duty shouted. “Infrared signature.”
They’d reached the environmental processing machinery. A hall of naked rock with seven big, boxy, air filter/regenerator units
in a row down the centre. Pipes and ducts rose out from them in conical webs, leading away into glare of the overhead lighting
panels. The marines were advancing along both sides of the bulky grey casings.
Someone was crouching down on top of the third, secreted amid a twist of metre-wide pipes. When Murphy switched his retinas
to infrared, a distinctive thermal emission hazed around the edge of the pipes like a pink mist. Neural nanonics computed
the output as consistent with a single person.
“Wrong,” he muttered. His suit audio speaker boosted the word, sending it rumbling round the hall. Okay, she’d made an effort
to hide, but it was a pitiful one. Going through the motions.
Why?
“Dr Gilmore?” Murphy datavised. “Is there any kind of super weapon she could have stolen from one of your laboratories?”
“Absolutely not,” Gilmore datavised back. “Only three portable weapons are undergoing examination in the laboratory. I verified
their locations as soon as we knew Couteur had escaped.”
Another explanation gone, Murphy acknowledged miserably. “Encirclement,” he datavised to the squad. They began to fan out
along the hall, keeping behind the pipes and machinery. When they had her surrounded he cranked the volume up further. “Come
along, Jacqueline. You know we’re here, and we know where you are. Game over.” There was no visible response.
“Sir,” the technical sergeant said. “I’m picking up activity on the electronic warfare block. She’s increasing her energistic
power.”
“Jacqueline, stop that right now. I have full shoot to kill authorization on this mission. You really have pissed off our
top brass with these stunts of yours. Now take a good look at what you’re sitting on. That casing is all metal. We don’t even
have to use our machine guns, I’ll just order someone to lob an EE grenade in your direction. You ought to know what electricity
does to you by now.”
He waited a few seconds, then fired three rounds at the pipes just above the thermal emission. The bullets sliced a dim violet
streak across his vision that vanished as soon as it began.
Jacqueline Couteur slowly stood up, hands raised high. She glanced round with supreme disdain at the marines crouched beneath
her, their weapons gripped purposefully.
“Down on the ground, now,” Murphy ordered.
She did as she was told with insultingly measured slowness; descending the rungs welded on to the side of the conditioner.
When she reached the ground five marines advanced on her.
“On the ground,” Murphy repeated.
Sighing at how she’d been wronged she lowered herself to her knees, and slowly bent forward. “I trust this makes you feel
safe?” she enquired archly.
The first marine to reach her shouldered his machine gun and took a holding stick from his belt. It telescoped out to two
metres, and he closed the pincer clamp around Couteur’s neck.
“Scan and secure the rest of the hall,” Murphy instructed. “We’re still missing three bodies.”
He walked over to where Jacqueline Couteur was being held fast. The pincer was riding high on her neck, tilting her jaw back.
It was an uncomfortable position, but she never showed any ire.
“What are you doing?” Murphy asked.
“I believe you’re in charge.” The tone was calculated to annoy, superior and amused. “You tell me.”
“You mean this is all you’ve achieved? Two hours’ liberty and you’re sulking about down here? That’s pathetic, Couteur.”
“Two hours tying up your resources, frightening your squad. And you, I can see the fear clouding your mind. Then I also eliminated
several key CNIS science personnel. Possibly I engendered some more possessed to run loose in your precious asteroid. You’ll
have to find that out for yourself. Do you really regard that as insignificant, lieutenant?”
“No, but it’s beneath you.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. I’ll find out whatever scam you’re pulling, and I’ll blow it out the fucking airlock. You don’t fool me, Couteur.”
Murphy pushed up his visor, and shoved his face centimetres from hers. “Zero-tau for you. You’ve abused our decency for way
too long. I should have shot you back on Lalonde.”
“No you wouldn’t,” she sneered. “As you said, you’re too decent.”
“Get her up to the lab,” Murphy snarled.
Gilmore was waiting for them at the top of the stairs; he directed them to professor Nowak’s laboratory where a couple of
technicians had prepared a zero-tau pod. Jacqueline Couteur hesitated slightly when she saw it. Two machine guns prodded into
the small of her back, urging her forwards.
“I ought to say sorry for any suffering you’ve undergone,” Gilmore said awkwardly. “But after the courtroom, I feel completely
vindicated.”
“You would,” Jacqueline said. “I shall be watching you from the beyond. When your time comes to join us, I’ll be there.”
Gilmore gestured at the zero-tau pod, as if getting in was voluntary. “Empty threats, I’m afraid. By that time, we shall have
solved the problem of the beyond.”
Couteur gave him a final withering glance, and climbed into the pod.
“Any final message?” Murphy asked. “Children or grandchildren you want to say something to? I’ll see it’s passed on.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
He grunted and nodded to the technician operating the pod. Couteur was immediately smothered beneath the jet-black field.
“How long?” Murphy asked tensely. He still couldn’t believe this was all there was to it.
“Leave her in for at least an hour,” Gilmore said with bitter respect. “She’s tough.”
“Very well.” Murphy refused to allow the door connecting the secure laboratory with the rest of the asteroid to be re-opened,
not with three people still unaccounted for. The marines continued their sweep of the utility caverns. As well as people,
Murphy had them examine the fusion generators. Since the loss of the external heat exchangers, they’d been operating in breakeven
mode, shunting their small thermal output into the emergency heat storage silo. Couteur couldn’t rig them to explode, but
the plasma could do a lot of damage if the confinement field had been tampered with.
The technicians reported back that they were untouched. After another forty minutes one of the missing bodies was found, dead,
and stuffed behind an air conditioning vent. Murphy ordered the squad to go back through the rooms they’d covered and open
all the remaining grilles, no matter what size. A possessed could easily hollow out a small nest for themselves in the rock.
He waited seventy minutes before ordering the zero-tau pod to be switched off. The woman inside was wearing a tattered and
burnt laboratory tunic with the CNIS insignia on her shoulder. She was weeping fervently as she tottered out, clutching at
a bloody wound across her abdomen. Murphy’s characteristics recognition program identified her as Toshi Numour, one of the
weapons section’s biophysics researchers.
“Shit,” Murphy groaned. “Dr Gilmore,” he datavised. There was no reply. “Doctor?” The communications processors in the secure
laboratory complex reported they couldn’t acquire Dr Gilmore’s neural nanonics.
Murphy burst out into the main corridor, and shouted at his squad to follow. With ten suited figures clattering along at his
heels, he sprinted for Gilmore’s office.