Excision Verdict, page 23
part #5 of ShadowTech Series
In more ways than one.
“Guess they took all the machines, then,” Dia said. Her voice echoed around the empty space. “Could’ve taken their rubbish too.”
“People using it as a squat.” Keelin pointed. “Couple of mattresses, mobile stove, old power gen. No recent traces, though.”
“Except your pal.”
“Doubt she used the facilities.”
There were puddles on the floor, and half the roof was missing. Water trickled down the walls. Apart from the sound of the rain, the place was silent.
And Tallia spent all day here?
“Offices through that rear door?” Dia asked, pointing.
They checked. Six rooms—seven, counting the toilet area. Four small offices, a couple of meeting rooms. Desks and chairs lay in ruins. A dispenser in one of the meeting rooms had been set on fire, something black and noxious smeared across the floor.
“This your friend?”
Keelin shook her head. “She’d be looking for answers, not trashing the place. There.”
Two rows of storage units were still fixed to the wall in the corridor. Keelin yanked open a door. The metal creaked and she heard something break. She looked inside.
“Burnt,” she said. “One way of destroying documents.”
“Would’ve been stored on a system too?”
“Don’t see any terminals”
“They’d have a master unit somewhere.”
“If it hasn’t been trashed. Or taken.” Keelin stood straight. “Reckon it’ll be in the plant room. Through that door,” and she pointed to the slab of metal that stood at the end of the corridor.
Dia raised her eyebrows. “Been doing your homework.”
“Gathering intel.” She zoomed in with her lenses. “Door looks sealed. Weld-marks, yeah?”
Dia nodded. Then she frowned.
“What?”
Dia held up a hand. She looked around. Then she shook her head. “Thought I caught something. Must be imagining things. Come on.” She took a step to the door.
Keelin barred her way with an arm. “What was it?”
“Nothing. Old traces merging. Playing tricks on me.”
Keelin focused. Dia was right—the mass of traces was a chaotic web, making it impossible to tease apart strands. But there was something else. On the periphery.
Not in the building, but outside.
Beyond the fence.
Keelin crouched. Her NeoGen reactions kicked in, enhancing her senses and controlling the adrenaline that pumped around her system.
“You sense it too?” Dia whispered. “It’s one of them, isn’t it?”
Keelin nodded. She widened her focus.
“She’s not alone,” she said. “At least twenty.”
“Got them. Company goons, right? They’re not the problem, though. It’s the one by the road I’m worried about.”
The road? The Eve Keelin had felt was at the rear of the whole compound, nowhere near the road.
She shifted her focus and found Dia’s Eve.
“Two of them,” she said.
Dia cursed under her breath. “Must’ve followed us,” she said. “Why the hell didn’t I feel them?”
“Might’ve been here, waiting.”
“For us?”
“Or for Tallia.”
Dia frowned. “She’s working with them? You reckon she’s gone over to the company?”
“Not a chance. Reckon it’s the company tracking her. Or us.”
“But two Eves? Isn’t that overkill?”
“Company making sure.” She looked around the corridor, then through the door into the main part of the building. “Don’t want to be in a tight space, though.”
“With you on that.”
They crept through the door. The stink seemed stronger now.
“Call Ennis,” Keelin said. “She can bring the Proteus down on the hard-top.”
“Contacting. Says she can be here in ten.” Dia swallowed. “Hope we don’t need her in five.”
Keelin breathed deep, ignored the stench. She focused. The traces beyond the fence crept closer.
“We’re NeoGens,” she said. “We hold out for as long as we need to.”
Ryann
There was a moment when Ryann didn’t think Annys would call for an evacuation. The woman sat motionless, glaring at Ryann. Then her face crumbled and she nodded. Her eyes glazed.
The suss came through strong.
Ryann slapped the desk again. “Didn’t you see those feeds? They’re waiting outside your escape routes!”
“It’s all worked out,” Annys said. “The plans will prevail.”
The door behind Ryann opened. Annys stood. She leaned forward, head bowed, her weight running through her arms, onto the desk.
“Let me help.” Ryann stepped around the desk.
“No!” The woman’s hand almost hit Ryann’s face. “No. I stood up too fast. That’s all. We’ll walk in a calm manner to set an example. Come.”
Annys straightened, pushed away from the table, and walked to the door. By the time she reached the corridor her head was high, her spine rigid, and she marched.
Ryann wasn’t sure if the confidence was genuine or an act.
She followed. There were others in the corridor, eyes glazing as they sussed, worried expressions on their faces. They all followed the marker Annys had sent, just like the one that showed in Ryann’s lenses, that directed her to the left at the next junction.
Annys didn’t answer. She picked up her pace, entering the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time.
More people joined. Ryann softly told them it would be fine, and assured them everything was under control. When they nodded, there was uncertainty in their eyes.
Ryann hoped her nerves didn’t show. She kept the feeds fresh in her lenses.
Ryann winced.
Someone stumbled close behind Ryann. She reached out and held them steady. It was Iden. His thin frame shook, and his large forehead glistened with sweat.
They followed a brightly-lit corridor, narrower than others. Nobody spoke.
They reached the vehicle pool. The door, normally sealed, was open. Annys strode through and stopped in front of the two transits. The main door to the street was sealed, but a section of the wall was open, revealing a dim tunnel.
Erin stood in the open cockpit door of the nearest transit. Annys looked around, then turned to Erin. “Where’s Kalen?”
Erin shook her head. “Last I heard he was outside. Said he had a job to do. Asked if I’d cover for him.” Her fingers twitched. “That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, you knew about his job, right?”
Annys nodded. “Of course. It’s all under control.” She spun, pointing to the open rear of the vehicle. “Everybody on. It’ll be tight, but we’re all friends here.”
And she glared at Ryann.
The Collective swarmed to the rear of the transit, climbing on board. But some of them stopped. They turned to watch Annys and Ryann.
Because they both glared now. Ryann felt the tension in her forehead. But she couldn’t back down.
She checked the feeds again.
Annys growled, low in her throat. She hammered on the side of the vehicle. The clang of metal echoed around the pool. Someone cried out in shock.
“Hold!” Annys said. “We have a change of plan.”
Annys bristled with anger. Her fists bunched as she leaned in to Ryann, looking up with eyes sharp as daggers.
Ryann willed her forearms to relax. This wasn’t the time for a physical confrontation.
But Annys had already turned her back on Ryann, and faced the rest of the Collective as they clambered out of the transit.
“We’re surrounded,” she said. “But we’re prepared. If they insist on this aggression, then we must protect ourselves. We head to the armoury.”
Deva
Heading back into Haven’s Deep was one of the most nerve-racking things Deva had ever done. She smiled for Wrench and the others, and she kept her back straight as that female agent led the team to their room. She even smiled at the guards on the walk-way at the port.
But inside she felt nothing but dread.
“It’s all been arranged,” Driskell had said, in his pep-talk to the whole team as they sat in the boat’s cabin, as they approached land. “Chiron’s gone ahead—meetings, stuff like that. We’ll be assigned to different analysis groups, mainly looking at that documentation. Means we’ll be split up, with only a few of us in our base room at any one time. Not ideal, but it is what it is.”
It all sounded so innocuous, until Driskell lowered his voice. “And we all know our other roles, don’t we? When the time’s right, we all play our parts.”
He looked directly at Wrench when he said that, and the lad nodded. Smiled too, but there was fear behind the smile. Deva could almost taste it in the air.
Others were nervous too. Even Driskell—why would he give this talk otherwise? It didn’t help that their escort was the same sour-faced woman from before. Driskell tried talking to her, tried being friendly, but she was having none of it.
And now they were in their room. It was the same one as before, but it contained more desks now, not as many comfortable chairs. Five of their group had left, called in to different meetings or strategy hubs. Driskell sat at one desk gazing at a couple of terminals. Alina and Blaine sat at another desk, heads close, deep in discussion. They switched between vocalising and sussing, and that unsettled Deva. Weren’t the Heralds supposed to be against the company? Wasn’t sussing giving lip-service to Kaiahive, using one of their lattice tools?
“Just the nerves talking,” she told herself, and she turned back to Wrench, who swiped and tapped away at a three-terminal set-up on the desk they shared. She couldn’t follow what he did, and for all she knew it was nothing at all, simply something to make him look busy.
He glanced at her a couple of times, and she reckoned that was a sign.
“You want a drink?” she asked—the approach they’d decided on earlier.
Wrench pushed back in his chair. It creaked. “Yeah. Need to stretch, though. I’ll get them.” He stood and groaned. “Chocolate?”
“Sure.”
He sauntered over to the dispenser. Driskell looked up and flashed a smile. Wasn’t that a bit on the nose?
Wrench swiped and tapped through options on the dispenser. The machine whirred as he selected chocolate. He swiped some more. He tapped hard, stabbing his finger against the terminal.
“Problem?” Deva asked.
“They make these machines too fancy.” Wrench peered around the side of the dispenser. “Reckon the connector’s come away.” He reached his hand around, started pulling and pushing. And swearing.
“You can have my drink if you want.” It sat in the dispenser’s receptacle, ready to grab.
“Wanted a coffee. Didn’t sleep well last night.” He swiped the machine’s terminal, thumped his fingers against the glass. Muttered under his breath as the machine whirred again, a second beaker appearing.
He brought the drinks back to the desk. A few moments later Driskell rose and tapped to order a drink.
When nothing happened he cursed—stronger than Deva reckoned was necessary—and tried again. It still didn’t work.
He turned. “Reckon you were right, Wrench. This machine’s faulty.”
Wrench nodded. “Glitching.”
“Most likely. Couldn’t do us a favour, could you? There’s an office on the level below. Designate 045/f, I think Could be 046. They deal with refreshment supplies. Reckon you could pop down and have a word?”
“Why me? I’m busy.” Wrench waved a hand over his terminals.
“They start on technical details, I’ll be lost. Looks like you need a break, too.” Driskell shrugged. “Not forcing you, though.”
Wrench shuffled, mumbled under his breath.
Deva wanted to roll her eyes. The acting from both of them was terrible!
But she had to play her part too.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “I do the talking, you chime in with anything technical. Yeah?”
He pulled a face, then nodded. “Coffee tastes like crap anyway.”
Out in the corridor Deva shuddered. “That didn’t feel awkward at all!”
“Thought it went well.”
“It worked. Come on.”
There were two stairwells close to the room, and Deva led Wrench towards the one to their right—the one that only opened onto certain levels. Again, it felt contrived, but Deva pretended she didn’t notice they went down two flights of steps before opening a door onto another corridor.
It was empty. It smelt empty.
“Chiron said the sensors were off down here, yeah?” Deva tried to keep her lips still as she spoke.
“Sensors off, and no personnel.” Wrench spoke too loud.
“You know which door we need?”
“Schematic said this one.”
They’d reached a white door that looked the same as the other three they’d passed. There was a designation stencilled on the wall—043/e. Hard to make out—white raised letters against a white back-ground.
So getting the wrong room wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, would it? Just in case the sensors were watching.
The door opened when Wrench pushed against it. They stepped into the room beyond. It was small, It contained a desk against the side wall, a cheap-looking chair, and a rack of system machines, the kind of thing Deva filed away as ‘tech’, knew she’d never understand.
But Wrench did. He pulled out his palmie, used an attachment to fix it to the rack. Tapped and swiped while he hummed. It wasn’t a tune Deva recognised, but it meant Wrench was relaxed, right?
Of course he was. He was playing with tech. He was in his element.
Deva opened the door, checked the corridor. No sign of movement. She closed the door again, and waited.
After a couple of minutes Wrench straightened. “Worm’s away,” he said. “Recognises the outer layer, getting to work. Already cracked encryption. Estimates full breach in five minutes.” He looked at the door. “Nothing to do but wait, right?”
“Feels like that’s all I do at the moment.” She shuddered. “It’s quiet.”
Wrench nodded. “Intel was spot-on—no activity down here. Repair work done remotely, and the company’s focused on that gate. And the pyramid.”
“You got a connection to the system on that thing?” Deva pointed to his terminal.
“Could probably get something when the worm’s in. Why?”
Deva shrugged. “Be good to know what’s going on.”
“Chiron says we’ll know when the doors unlock.”
She glanced at the door. “Still like to know what’s happening out there.”
“Risky. Start prodding about before the worm’s through, it might trigger alerts.”
“Makes sense. So how long do we wait?”
Wrench shrugged. “Depends on what the worm finds after breaching. Could be a minute, could be half an hour.” He checked the terminal. “Going well so far. Through the outer layer, analysing the next.”
Which meant nothing to Deva. She pulled out her terminal, swiped to wake it. “Let me know when something interesting happens, yeah?”
Wrench rolled his eyes. “It’s all interesting.”
“If you say so.”
But he was already engrossed in his data, swiping through it, zooming in, doing whatever he did to keep himself happy.
And on Deva’s terminal the connection icon flashed. Frowning, she tapped.
Another message. Unknown sender. But the routine Wrench had installed pinged, told her it was the same sender as that previous message.
She tapped to open.
Wanted to get this to you sooner, but I’m up against it here. Click the link, watch the feed. It should tell you what you need to know.
Deva froze.
Wrench leaned in. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Sure?”
He reached for her terminal. She snatched it back.
Then reconsidered. Maybe he could figure out who was sending her this stuff.
