A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle) (40 page)

"Don't be so sure."

Gideon was poised to descend when he stopped at Michael's comment. "What aren't you telling me?"

Michael shook his head. "Don't drop your guard is all I'm saying."

"Of course not." He dropped through the open hatch. "All clear so far. Dead bodies, no turrets on this side. No sign of movement. The door to the hall remains closed."

"Good." Michael recalled what Marette had told them. "There should be two alcoves around the corner on either side of the door. The one to the right should have the core access. Look for a dark green access panel about three feet across at chest level."

"I see it."

Michael watched from atop the roof as Gideon disappeared out of sight of the hatch toward the core. "Any cameras?"

"Two."

"Can they see the ceiling hatch?"

"I'm uncertain. I've seen no response to my presence so far. I'm at the core. What now?"

Michael frowned, torn between keeping an eye on Gideon and staying out of sight himself. He clambered over to the opposite side of the hatch for a better view, but
couldn't see much more.

"Repeat: w
hat now?"

"Just a sec."

"What's the problem?"

Synthetic voice or not, Gideon's annoyance came through just fi
ne. Michael got onto his knees. He poked his head through the hatch as far as he dared and gained a view of Gideon in the alcove from the waist down. The door to the corridor was still closed. Michael realized with some relief that if it did open, the turrets would have to round the alcove's corner to even have a chance of spotting Gideon directly. Michael could see no cameras from his vantage point.

"There should
be a release on either side. I don't think there's a code. But don't touch anything else if that doesn't work."

"Stand by. Panel's opened. I see two white components the size of my hand and a long
—"

Distracted by the sight of the door opening, Michael missed the rest of Gideon's sentence. One of the turrets
rolled through the doorway before he could give warning. Michael ducked back outside the hatch.

"Door's open! They're coming through!"

The computer must've sensed the core panel opening and sent the turrets. Unsure
of what he could do, Michael forced himself to look back through the hatch and risk giving away his position. Only one turret had entered—the other remained behind, still guarding against an attack from down the hallway. Michael waved an arm in an effort to get the turret's attention and buy Gideon some time.

He wasn't fast enough. The entering turret rounded
the corner straight for Gideon's position.

Gideon dove toward it and
flung his arms around its top. So great was the force with which he launched himself in the Moon's gravity that momentum carried him and the turret across the room to the opposite corner. They smashed into another access panel in utter silence. Gideon lost his grip.

The flash of the turret's cannon lit up the room
with a burst that punched into Gideon's leg. It wasn't enough to stop him. He wrapped himself around the overturned turret from behind and clutched at the cannon itself with both hands. It fought his grip, thrashing and swiveling in either direction in an attempt to take aim at its attacker.

And then
suddenly it stopped swiveling, took aim at Michael, and fired. He managed only barely to duck back outside the hatch before the burst lit up the room below. He felt the impact of the bullets in the roof against his knees. Now that the first turret spotted him, would the second continue to wait outside?

Gideon gave him
the answer a heartbeat later. "Second turret's coming!"

After a moment's hesitation,
Michael grabbed the edges of the hatch and swung himself down through the hole with his shoulder wound screaming at him. There was no time to worry that the first turret might fire. He didn't even know if the second would be after him or Gideon. Michael caught sight of it just long enough to adjust his aim before swinging forward for a low-gravity launch across the room. He slammed feet first into the second turret just after it had turned toward Gideon. The impact knocked the turret against the frame of the open doorway and Michael tumbled after it.

Still fighting to regain his bearings, Michael grabbed for the cannon and ducked out of the way of the barrel before it could fire.
Though Gideon had gotten hold of his from behind, Michael wasn't so lucky; it was all he could do to keep it from gaining a clear shot. Stabilizing arms thrust from the turret's body in an effort to either right itself or knock him off. It didn't matter which; the arms and the bulk of Michael's suit kept him from gaining any sort of advantage. Gideon and the other turret were somewhere behind him. If Gideon couldn't keep his from getting a shot at Michael, he'd be dead before he knew what hit him.

The wild breath of his own struggle was a
ll he could hear in the vacuum's silence. Desperate, he tried to roll to the other side in the hope of using the turret as a shield, but he failed no matter which way he moved. Keep his suit intact, keep Gideon from being shot, keep himself from becoming a target; no matter what he tried, he couldn't do all three at once, and if he couldn't do all three at once—

Michael yelled in frustration,
redoubled his efforts and got a foot onto one of the turret's flailing stabilizers. He kicked it down and managed to crawl atop the turret, unsure if his suit were still intact for the effort. He was struggling to hold the turret still and looking for some way past the thing's armor when the chamber door clamped shut on his ankle and bent it outward. He cursed in pain, reflexively shifting positions and losing his brief advantage. He could only cling to the swiveling cannon and try to hold it off-target as the turret itself tried to crawl away on its stabilizer arms. Pain battered his ankle. He strained to fight the door's grip and maintain his own on the turret, sure he would lose it at any second.

And then a flash of sparks
across the room caught his eye as Gideon tore the top off of the first turret with both hands. He cast it aside and brought his arm cannon to bear directly into the turret's interior. Silent light flashed from the barrel: Gideon firing into the thing's innards. With its main cannon gone and its insides shattered, the turret ceased to move.

Yet Michael's own was far from defeated.
Its muzzle flashed again to send bullets into the door that only narrowly missed him.

"Help me!"

Michael's shout was unneeded; Gideon was already moving. He dashed across the chamber, ducked under the turret's line of fire, and seized it by the top of its cannon to wrench it off as he'd done the first. Michael had just enough time to pull himself back from the broken menace before Gideon fired down into it as well.

It was over quic
kly. Gideon stood up before noticing Michael's foot. Without a word, he gripped the door with both hands and pulled, giving Michael enough time to free himself before he let the door seal completely. Even then, Michael didn't stop to get up or even catch his breath until casting about for any further threats.

All
seemed, for the moment, to be calm.

Gideon, apparently no worse for wear from the shot to his leg, offered Michael a hand to pull him to his feet. "Easier the second time."

"Looked like it." Michael took the help up and then checked himself over. "I think I'm okay. See anything wrong with the suit?"

Gideon shook his head. "Help me get the core while we have a chance."

"It'll be faster if I do it. Watch my back?"

"Very well."

Without anything actively trying to kill them, getting the memory core disengaged was simple. Lights and screens went dark across the room's panels as Michael shut down the power feed. In the dim glow of emergency lightning, Michael slid the infected core—a cylindrical module about half the length of his arm—from the socket. Gideon moved as if to reach for it before the gesture turned to a mere pointing.

"What is in there?"

Michael realized he was cornered in the alcove. "I don't know. I'm not really sure what they did. I just know it's dangerous."

"And Marquand wants
it." Gideon stared back at him. The seconds inched by before he looked back at the broken turret. "My thanks for occupying that."

Michael moved swiftly around him into the center of the room, trying not to seem too anxious about it. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded. Artificial or not, something in Gideon's face worried him.
There was no time to address it. Felix was still in trouble, the Omicron staff needed to be evacuated, and the AoA's plan was incomplete.

Just a little longer
, Marc thought for the tenth time. He and Marette stood in Life Support waiting for their moment to act and trying their best to stall the remaining ESA staff pacing about. Among the most anxious was a doctor whose name Marc forgot. His heel tapped the floor until Marc wanted to scream.

"This isn't goin
g to work!" the doctor burst. "Only one man against those turrets? We have two other suits!"

Already wearing the second suit Marc had br
ought, Marette stared him down with eyes shot with fatigue. "Two other suits that we can use if this fails, Doctor. All three together? One EMP burst could destroy them all. We cannot risk that either."

The doctor leap
ed to his feet. "The turrets are out of EMP! They have to be!"

"Doctor Spidel! We do no
t know that. Sit
down
. I understand that we are all under a great stress, but you will follow—"

"Stress?" He laughed. "
We're going to die when those batteries run out, Chief."

A
radio burst from Marc's suit cut off Marette's response. "
I've—disconnected the core,
" came Michael's voice.

"He sounds hurt," someone said before being shushed. Marc te
nsed, waiting.

"
I'm hit. It's bad. Suit's leaking fast. . . I don't think I'm going to make it.
"

Marc responded as fast
as he could. "Hold tight, we're on our way! Is it clear?" He might've said it too fast; it took a moment for Michael to continue.

"
It's clear. Hurry. I— Wait! Someone's outside. No suit—I think—they're carrying. . . something. Running for. . .
Paragon
entrance. . .
" On the other end, Michael gasped for breath against obvious wounds. "
It's not— They didn't come from the complex. Command was right—third party—we can't. . .
"

Michael'
s voice trailed off. The channel went dead.

Marc lifted the replacement core and gave Marette as urgent
of a look as he could manage. "He doesn't have much time."

"If another group has arrived at Omicron, none of us has much time." She turned toward the others. "We go to replace the core. When you get my signal, be ready."

"If there's someone else out there—"

"Without the computers we are in no condition! Be ready!" With that, they sealed their helmets and moved out.

Gideon caught Michael's few keystrokes on his suit comms. "What was that?"

"Just letting Marc know we did it." Michael hoped the pre-recorded message would do the trick; acting wasn't something with which he had much experience. "Let's go."

Gideon blocked his way to the ceiling hatch. "Wait."

"Marc ought to be along soon with some Omicron crew, and he's the only one ESA thinks is authorized to be here."

Gideon reached for the
infected memory core where Michael had left it for Marc atop a console. "If I return with nothing. . ."

Crap.

Michael set his own hand on the core. "You said you were okay with that. You don't owe Marquand anything after what they tried to do to you."

"If they did what they did to me, what will they do to Ondrea if I return
with nothing?"

"But this
—"

"What will they do to your friends if they learn Ondrea sent them?"

It was enough to make him hesitate. But no, there wasn't time! "We can protect them."

Gideon shook his head.
"You're not with Marquand. You can't protect her."

Michael
tightened his hand on the core. "Marc wasn't lying about what's in this. It's an experiment gone wrong. The most destructive computer virus ever created. Hell, it just tried to kill us! Who knows what it'll do if you link up to it? If you try to take it back to Marquand, give it them? You really want them to have this?"

Gideon's eyes narrowed. "The two of you aren't just here to give Caitlin and her boyfriend a ride, are you?"

He'd wondered if Gideon might ask that. "We're here to make sure this sort of thing doesn't get out. Marquand didn't tell you what they were having you steal, did they?"

"What are you saying? What's here?"

Michael hoped that was a no. They had only minutes before the others showed up. It would just be Marc and Marette if things went as planned, but he didn't want to bet on it.

"Like I said, I don't know for sure. We know some things
: weapons, technology like what caused the core corruption that we're not smart enough to use wisely. When I met you, you were trying to stop someone from flooding the streets with guns; this is the same thing, only here we can stop it from even being introduced at all."

"ESA will still have it."

"One thing at a time! Marc's handling that side."

"How?"

"I can't tell you that!" It came out harsher than he wanted. "Look, we can—"

"No! Marquand has us trapped! Me, Ondrea! I can protect myself, but her? I need to
give them something. I'll give Marquand the core and then sabotage it once they—"

"I can't let you do that."

"Yet I doubt you could stop me."

Michael
lowered his hand from the core to the thigh pouch of his suit where he kept the stunner. "Maybe I can't. But do you know what 'grey goo' is?"

Gideon blinked.
"A theory. Self-replicating nanobots."

"Whose sole purpose is to break down everything in sight
to build more of themselves. Plants. Animals. Machines. People. Slow to start, but once they make enough of themselves they move frighteningly fast."

"You're saying such a thing exists?"

"It's part of what they're working on here. No sane person would try to design it on Earth, but in space, where it can't do as much damage if there's a mistake? Is it worth your sister's life if an entire city's turned into goo? And that's if we're lucky! I don't know how that stuff works exactly, but if it got out of hand who's to say it would ever stop? They weaponize it and suddenly nuclear war looks like a paradise!"

Gideon hesitated. "Yet all I have is your word."

"Yeah."

"How do I know this isn't more manipulation?"

"I—" Only a short time left. If Marc and Marette got there, maybe the three of them could overpower Gideon long enough to use the stunner, but that was a temporary solution at best, and not one he was comfortable with. Another option—likely a better one—crept into his mind, though it made him no less uncomfortable. He brought out the stunner. "I gather you don't remember the night we met."