Dead Star and Genome make their final approach. During their aerial descent, Rennin sees hundreds of dead contaminants littering the playing field and about two dozen military left standing. All the immune have been successfully evacuated to the fortified zone in Whitechapel.
Rennin then sees something that makes his mouth drop. An android is standing near the landing zone with a Photon Beam Rifle resting against its shoulder. It is two heads taller than anyone around it. Del. He’s been the one holding the stadium line. Rennin is so surprised he doesn’t realise he’s still descending. Dead Star touches down hard jolting the former watchman and getting a curse from Carmine as everything tilts crazily.
Rennin’s still staring at Del through the cockpit when he notices something about Drej’s pulsating knife. It’s not just random vibration, he realises. His eyes widen. Morse Code! Drej has been giving Rennin their whereabouts via his connection to his knife all along. “Feckless cock-swabbing fuck sock!” Rennin half shrieks in self-reproach.
He is still busy wondering how he could have missed something so painfully obvious when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up,” the voice of Arca Drej himself announces.
12.
What’s Left Behind
In Horizon Stadium Raston Squad has absorbed the remnants of Rennin’s unit and Clone Unit. They are now one single platoon, though in total it is only four additional crewmembers. Caufmann, Del, Drake, Mia Saker, Arca Drej, and Amber Antares make up the sum of Raston Squad itself.
Fully clad in armour, Arca Drej and Antares are completely hidden. Antares is wearing a mask rather than a helmet since her cable-hair won’t fit in one. Rennin briefly wonders if being open about what they are would be better for morale, though it would be very hard to explain the presence of a CryoZaiyon.
Rennin hasn’t had the chance to speak with Caufmann yet. After exiting gunship Dead Star, an emergency broadcast appears over every working terminal citywide. The Raddocks Horizon evening news anchor, Ellie Andress, is presenting it via the Stadium’s big-screen. With 3D technology such as it is she looks like she’s sitting just on the other side of a window, albeit a giant.
“As the infection spreads to more areas of Raddocks Horizon, the city has effectively been locked down,” she says, “the local military have commandeered Desolator satellites and fired on a zone apparently overrun by hostile Horizonians. The use of the—thought to be decommissioned—technology has brought into doubt the military’s ability to control the rampaging population.
“Gateway itself has been absolutely flooded with evacuees despite martial law curfew that advises all people to stay indoors, especially at night, and to remain in designated safe zones. As of tomorrow, all areas considered contaminated will be—” she swallows reflexively, “—cleared. Without exception. Anyone infected trying to leave these zones will be… uh…” she stammers, looking sideways at someone out of frame for a moment, “shot.”
Rennin glances at the sky where the circular, clawed, shape of a Desolator satellite can just be seen poking through the cloud line. “Sounds like someone’s got an itchy trigger finger.”
“Did they always sit so low? Couldn’t be higher than a couple hundred metres,” asks Drake.
“Gravitic Repulsor technology. They were built to fire in atmosphere, and being so low it made the enemy think twice before shooting them down. There was no way to know what they’d land on,” says Rennin, staring back at the screen.
“Earlier today, the Horizon Military fought against the first onrush of crazed infected in the Middle-city District near to Horizon Stadium. The Godyssey lab has identified them as ‘contaminants.’ Though the siege was successful it is estimated that over half the troops deployed were killed.”
Rennin shakes his head. “Jesus.”
“A warning has since been issued that no verbal calls for help are to be heeded under any circumstances.”
“Didn’t they believe our report about the Screamers?” asks Drake.
“In the studio at the moment we have Lord Mayor Nyder Raddocks, whom has graciously agreed to an interview in this very difficult time for the city,” she turns in her chair to face Nyder Raddocks. “Lord mayor, thankyou for joining us.”
Raddocks is an officious looking wiry man in his forties wearing a suit worth more than a full working-class education. “Good evening.”
“Sir, the public demands to know why we have not called for outside aid.”
Raddocks doesn’t seem to react at all. “This disease is not to be risked escaping the city.”
“I’m sure most of us can understand that logically but there is a desperate plea from people in the city to call the Alpha HolinMech unit to help us. As an android strike force they’ll be immune.”
Raddocks’ face remains impassive. “I’m afraid they aren’t available.”
“Mayor Raddocks, we are facing increasingly bleak odds. I’m compelled to ask why they aren’t coming? This is a Godyssey-built city and the HolinMech Program is financed and owned by Godyssey, is it not?”
“Ownership and rights of call are not the issue, there have been some serious irregularities with the Alpha HolinMech team.”
“How so?”
“We have sent an emergency call to Iyatoya Base on the moon but it has been denied.”
“I wasn’t aware that distress calls could be denied on this kind of scale.”
Raddocks smiles a bland, mechanical smile. “Miss Andress, Alpha HolinMech units are worth billions of taxpayer dollars and each of them are capable of going head to head with any legion in the world. With that kind of power, you must be very cautious about how to disperse it and be doubly sure that it works.”
“Why the sudden caution now, though? They’ve been on dozens of missions, I assume.”
“They have but their last mission was riddled with problems from the beginning. I can’t go into specific details, you understand, but the third in command experienced a seizure and one of the newest models disappeared.”
“Would this be the one that is rumoured to be AWOL?”
“Missing In Action might be a better description,” corrects Raddocks.
“Lord mayor, would the reason behind the denial of aid from the Alpha HolinMechs be that your brother is among them? Second in charge, isn’t he?”
Raddocks’ composure cracks for barely an instant, if you blinked you would have missed it. His brother being a HolinMech android isn’t common knowledge; at least it wasn’t until now. Not that it really matters, especially if the death toll continues climbing at its current rate. Raddocks manages a mild smirk. “My brother is not in question.”
“Can’t Iyatoya spare even one of them?”
“The HolinMech lieutenant had a seizure and he is one of the most effective and reliable units ever built. If he can malfunction then all units must go through diagnostics. I’m sure I don’t need to spell out the dangers of a haywire android loose in the city.”
“Surely not as destructive as a Desolator satellite?”
Raddocks’ face reveals nothing. “Can we simply establish that help from them will not be forthcoming?”