The squad members looked at each other. They wouldn’t have managed to defeat the Swarm without the observer’s help, but they still didn’t trust it.
“What are you offering in exchange?” Gabriel demanded.
“Knowledge.” The observer replied, “Without the insidious requirement for neural fusion or mental enslavement to the observer.”
“What kind of knowledge?”
“The observer has existed for over 610,000 local solar years,” the observer answered, “the observer has thus accumulated 610,000 local solar years’ worth of observations as well as a wealth of scientific knowledge above and beyond your species’ grasp.”
“You want to trade information in exchange for survival?” Cato concluded.
“Correct. The observer cannot impart knowledge if it has been destroyed.”
There was silence as the squad considered the proposal. In fact, it was Gabriel who considered it, since the offer had been extended to him.
“We would need to consult with our superiors first.” Gabriel replied.
“That is acceptable.” The observer replied, “As a further gesture of goodwill, and so that you can contact your superiors, the observer will guide you to the exit.”
“Bout’ time we get out of this fricking place.” Viker muttered as Cato finished salving his head wound, “and it’s good to see you shut Kane up for us. Literally.”
Gabriel saw that he was still holding Kane’s severed tongue in his fist. He dropped the bloody trophy on the ground and went to retrieve his LMG.
“Is everybody well enough to move?” Gabriel asked as he picked up his service weapon, “Or do some of you need carrying?”
“I can barely move my shoulder,” Bale answered, standing up as best he could, “but that spike missed all the major blood vessels, and I survived the trip downwards.”
“I got whacked in the head,” Viker responded as he put his helmet back on and retrieved his gun, “but otherwise I’m good to move too.”
“I got blasted off the edge of the platform by the over-pulse, and then got jumped by a bunch of fucking Faithful,” Cato replied, packing up his medical kit, “but no injuries here, either. Can’t say the same for them though.”
“Lucky you, play-fighting downstairs with the skinny little cultists whilst the big boys handle the monster.” Bale joked.
“Oh yeah,” Cato retorted sarcastically, “Because being impaled and then tossed into the air like a sports ball is SUCH hard work.”
Everyone laughed, even Gabriel.
* * *
It was a long trek back through the sepulchral alien labyrinth to the exit, and an even longer trek back to the loading bay where the Wolverine was waiting for them. From the loading bay all the way across the canyon network, there was nowhere suitable for the DNI vessel to land and pick them up; so Viker had to drive back to the landing pad.
There was very little talking on the way back, and the surviving squad members were all out of jokes and backslapping by the time they were back aboard the ship. The mission was a success, but they had still lost one of their number to an alien enemy they knew nothing about. In any case, they were exhausted; the most they could manage was to drain some energy drinks and get out of their armour.
Doran had made it back safely, at least. His casket had been packed aboard one of the automated cargo haulers and then driven back to the landing pad. His transponder had alerted the DNI vessel to his presence, and he was already onboard by the time the squad got back. Once they were back on Asgard, he was quickly transferred to a DNI medical facility.
Ogilvy’s helmet and service weapon – the only items left of him – were returned to the DNI. The weapon would be returned to the armoury, and the helmet would be prepared for a funeral service; his family would need something over which to mourn.
Whilst Viker, Cato, and Bale were debriefed and treated for their injuries, Gabriel was summoned to speak directly to the director-general. No doubt she would have already reviewed his helmet footage by the time he arrived, and would have further questions to ask.
And he had questions of his own.
* * *
“Excellent work.” The director-general said from her throne-like chair.
She had always looked cool and professional before, someone exerting dispassionate control over an enormous network for the good of Humanity. Hundreds of thousands of subordinates reported to her, and ultimately entrusted their lives to her decisions, and Gabriel had long been one of them.
But looking at her now, Gabriel’s impression of her had changed drastically. Now she looked like a smug and manipulative black widow, tugging on little strands of silk from the centre of her web, watching everything around her with that bionic red eye of hers.
“Thank you very much,” Gabriel replied professionally, before adding, “‘Dani’.”
A flicker of surprise passed across the cool and dispassionate look on Red-eye’s face.
“It would have been greatly appreciated if the Director-Admiral of Naval Intelligence had informed us that there was already a DNI mole stationed at the Loki facility before we deployed.” Gabriel said less-than-coolly.
The accusation was implicit in the phrasing.
“‘Director-general’ is a very ancient civilian title,” Red-eye explained, attempting to duck the accusation with trivia, “it refers to someone with general responsibility for the running of a large organisation. Since this is the Directorate of Naval Intelligence, ‘director-admiral’ was the technical division’s idea of a joke, hence the codename ‘Dani’.”
Gabriel’s normally impassive face was crinkled ever so slightly into a scowl. He had figured that out for himself on the journey back, and wanted an explanation – perhaps, even an apology – for his being sent in without 100% of the available intelligence.
“The short explanation is that Kane was written off as an expired asset.” Red-eye said, using the polite intelligence euphemism for ‘hung out to dry’.
“So you didn’t think he was worth mentioning because you had no further use for him and expected us to kill him anyway?” Gabriel’s tone began to rise in volume.
“Actually, no.” Red-eye replied, unfazed by Gabriel’s tone, “Kane stopped sending us data from the Dani spyware shortly before J.E. Co. lost contact with the Loki facility. When J.E. Co.’s security team didn’t return, I concluded that the team and the staff must be dead, including Kane. If I had known Kane was the cause of the incident, I would have told you.”
Gabriel remained silent. That was a start, now what about the rest of her explanation?
“As for the long explanation,” Red-eye said at length, “how exactly do you think we stay at the cutting-edge, ahead of Humanity’s enemies?”
“You think stooping to the level of corporate espionage is worth ‘staying ahead’?”
“‘Stooping’?” Red-eye raised an eyebrow, “the corporate sector’s highest loyalty is to their balance sheets – as you well know – which is why they steal secrets from one another and gamble with Humanity’s survival through reckless xenotech experimentation. The secrets we gather, however, are put to use designing and building the next generation of technology to keep the fight going, including the armour and weapons that you take into battle.”
Red-eye’s voice was disarmingly level. There was no defensiveness, no anger at being taken to task by a subordinate; just calm explanation of her reasons. And yet, her logic was a hair’s breadth away from the corporate sector’s own arguments for doing the same thing.