“You bitch! You bitch!” he screamed, struggling like a wild animal.
One android forced the informant’s left arm down to his side and held him by his black and gold hair while the other placed a gun in his right hand, forcing his fingers to close around the gun’s handle. The android then used its other hand to push down on the inside of his elbow, forcing the gun to his temple.
Jezebel turned away from the staged suicide and looked at the blood-red data chip in her hand, smiling in quiet satisfaction as her erstwhile informant’s screams and struggles were silenced with a single gunshot.
THE WIDOW
Out of the frying pan and into the firefight. That was the last thought that passed through Gabriel’s mind as he leapt into the escape hole. As soon as he jumped, he felt a powerful force yank his body straight downwards. The instantaneous acceleration was disorienting, but not nearly as disorienting as the insane journey that followed.
The walls of the tunnel dissolved into an imperceptible blur as the gravity field carried Gabriel along at incredible speeds, like one of those theme park rides that carried revellers along a winding tunnel before depositing them into a pool of water. Except that he was hurtling along ten times as fast, and whatever was waiting at the other end wanted to kill him.
The tunnel didn’t travel in a straight line either; it twisted, turned, and corkscrewed seemingly at random as it carried Gabriel along at breakneck speeds, making him feel that he might be dashed against the side of the tunnel. The most he could do was hug his weapon close, keep his feet together, and hope that didn’t happen.
Strangest of all was the sound, or lack thereof. The air resistance in the gravity tunnel ought to be a deafening roar; but to prevent hearing damage, the auditory software in Gabriel’s helmet artificially reduced the volume of loud noises or filtered them out altogether.
It was eerily silent all the way down – or up, rather.
A faint light appeared at the end of the tunnel before rushing up to meet Gabriel. As he shot out of the tunnel at high speed, he felt his innards decelerate dramatically as the sudden change in gravity slowed his descent to a safe speed. The rest of the squad was already there, recovering as best they could from the trip.
“That was…not bad!” Viker hyperventilated.
“Sit-rep!” Gabriel replied, deadly serious.
“No threats detected,” Bale replied, “but that’ll probably change soon.”
They were standing on the ceiling of a hemispherical hall identical to the chamber from which they had just escaped. Unlike the previous chamber, however, this one was totally bare, with no storage crates, weapons caches or research equipment to be seen.
Without warning, the chamber’s column began to extend from its slot in the ceiling directly beneath Gabriel’s feet. He stepped off the moving column just in time to avoid falling back into the tunnel as the column slid inside, sealing off the entrance to the gravity tunnel; but he was removed from the artificial gravity field keeping him on the ceiling and tumbled down to the floor, landing on one foot and falling awkwardly onto his side.
“You alright, sir?” Cato asked.
“I’m fine.” Gabriel replied, climbing back to his feet, “it seems the observer is trying to help us. Join me down here and we can get this over with.”
Rather than activating their gravity belts, the squad jumped ‘up’ towards the floor, leaving the gravity field keeping them on the ceiling and landing more or less on their feet.
“Cato, check the column for the number of slots we need to fill.” Gabriel ordered, “Everybody else, fan out and look for the blocks.”
“Found one!” Viker announced, holding up a block discarded on the floor.
“Found a slot too!” Cato announced.
“Two slots?” Viker asked.
“No, I mean I found a slot as well.” Cato clarified.
“Whatever.” Viker said dismissively, “Just catch.”
Viker tossed the jet black block to Cato who caught it deftly and inserted it into the corresponding aperture at the base of the column.
As the block slid home, the intricate network of circuitry on the plain black column was illuminated as the machine was restored to power – or to life, they didn’t know anything about the technology they were bringing back online.
“RESTORED.” Boomed the observer’s voice.
“Are your systems back online?” Viker asked.
“Correct.” The observer replied, “That is what the word ‘restored’ means.”
“Fricking smug xeno-computer,” Viker muttered in annoyance.
“I’m sure it didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Viker.” Bale joked.
“The observer finds your propensity for private communication amongst yourselves most curious.” The observer observed without actually sounding curious at all.
“We need you to put up those barriers before the Faithful can get in!” Gabriel shouted.
“Unnecessary.” The observer replied, “The Enthralled’s pursuit attempts have left them concentrated around the chamber from which you arrived, at the exact opposite end of the observatory from your current location. Even if they knew your location, it would require a considerable amount of time to reach you.”
“What about the Swarm,” Cato asked, “can it reach us via the same path?”
“No.” the observer reassured them, “the observer sealed the entrance to the gravitic transport network as soon as the voidstalker embarked. It cannot follow.”
“Good, so the sooner we get to the other four chambers, the better.”
“Correct.” The observer confirmed, “It would be most efficient for the four of you to split up, one individual per chamber.”
The squad collectively flinched.
“No fricking way we’re splitting up.” Viker said over the comm.
“If you harbour reservations, voice them aloud.” The observer demanded.
“We’re not splitting up.” Gabriel replied.
“Clarify your reasoning.” The observer commanded.
“Four guns are better than one in a firefight.” Gabriel explained, “We’re not dividing our strength just to save time on the task.”
“The voidstalker wishes to prioritise the concentration of meagre firepower over time-efficient completion of the task at hand?” the observer enquired.
“Correct.” Gabriel answered emphatically, “I don’t care if it takes us four times as long to get you back online; we’re not splitting up.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Understood.” The observer noted.
The glowing circuitry on the newly restored central column went black, and the column receded back into the ceiling, reopening the entrance to the gravitic transport network.
“Please enter the gravitic tunnel,” the observer requested, “the observer will transport you to one of the remaining four chambers.”
“You know the drill!” Gabriel said.
* * *
It was a relatively brief ride on the train back home, but it felt like forever. Aster spent the entire journey feeling totally crushed. There were no goodbyes or reassuring explanations for why she was being suspended – her colleagues and subordinates would be informed of her ‘period of leave’ by email – just the deauthorisation of her security clearance, the collection of her smartphone from storage, and an elevator ride down to the station.
If she hadn’t broken into Lawrence’s office and snooped around in the first place, none of this would have happened. No red chip. No blackmail. No cloak-and-dagger scheming. No cloud of suspicion hanging over her head. No potentially career-ending suspension. The events of the past day or so were ultimately her fault.