Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (9 page)

I never pegged you for a drug dealer, Chief.

I’m a business man. I do business. Today’s business is Ghantri chemicals. If you get through this without letting your scruples get in the way, tomorrow’s business will be combat grade fuel for your ship. Understood?

I counted to ten under my breath, swallowed my pride and acknowledged the Chief’s retort. I could see that Wilson was getting impatient. I thought about taking more time just to piss him off even more, but I wanted to wash my hands of this as soon as possible.

“Alright, Mr Graham. I’m interested. What are you asking for it?”

“What are you offering?”

Tell him 45k.

“Forty-five thousand credits. Delivered straight into your account, right this minute.”

No. Half now, half when I’ve checked the stock arrives.

“Fifty thousand, and it’s all yours.” replied Wilson

“Done.”

You slimy bastard! I said 45k!

I chuckled to myself as I sent Wilson Graham the delivery location and he forwarded me his account information, which I passed onto Markum.
You’ll make twice that at least, flogging off this poison. Consider it a bullshit fee. I knew you were setting me up for something stinky, Chief.

There was no reply. I’d begun to think that I’d gone too far and blown it. I started to sweat.

“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure,” offered Graham, “But it hasn’t. Good day.”

They started to file out, trolley in tow. Suddenly, Graham stiffened and put hand up to his ear. He turned to look at me with a look of fear.

“What is it?” I said.

“I’m being jammed. Is that you?”

“Shit. We’re being busted! Get out of here, I’ll keep them busy!”

“Keep who busy? Who are they?”

I didn’t have to answer. There came an amplified voice calling out from the concourse below. “Military police! Put your hands in the air and remain stationary!”

Damn, things were getting out of hand.
Why didn’t the cameras show them?
I mused. My Tactical App didn’t even point them out. The possibilities were troubling. One of the goons even put his hands up. I shook my head.

“Okay, in a couple of seconds, shit’s going to hit the fan.” I hoped. “My backup will start getting their attention, and I’m going to split aft along the mezzanine. You guys go forward, get out of here and deliver that cargo.”

“Alright.” nodded Graham.

We crouched down, the hatch to the compartment ajar. I zoomed in on my cameras and tried to work out why I couldn’t see the MPs. Then I saw it. A slight glitch, almost like static, appeared briefly then vanished. I’d seen it before, and my stomach filled with ice. They had an NP operator. Someone like me, using a technique called Invisible Paradigm, was blanking out the digital images captured by the cameras.

I sent my own nanites out into the concourse, letting them slowly spread out like a cloud. I quickly located a pair of them, half way along the Mezzanine aft of our position. I shifted the cloud forward along the axis of the station and soon found another pair. We were boxed in. If we came running out now, we’d be caught in the cross fire. I needed to even the odds, and I couldn’t wait for Artemis to start the show. I focused my nanite cloud around the pair that Graham and his goons would run into, and activated a power called Stun Paradigm. It rapidly unbalanced the electrical potential of the pair, and in a moment I heard a loud snap-sizzle, like lightning striking a power pole. I was rewarded with a pair of gurgling screams.

“Go!” I shouted, barging open the door and bounding aft towards the other pair.

I didn’t wait to see if Graham and company got away, instead I dove straight towards the startled military police. They were outfitted in light combat armour complete with visored helmets and riot shields. As I bolted, they raised their sidearms and took aim. It looked like they had me dead to rights, but I had other tricks up my sleeve.

I activated another paradigm, called Spatial Translation, and shifted through another dimension. With a rush of air I translated directly behind them and kept running. I glanced over my shoulder to see if I could see Artemis, but instead saw one of the goons go down under a hail of bright flashes. Shit, they were getting hammered. I rounded a corner and turned around, getting down on one knee and aiming my Electron Gun.

I could now see there were several police down on the concourse below, and four up on the mezzanine with us. The pair that I’d hit with Stun were lying on the ground, flopping about in spasmodic fits. The two that I’d bypassed were firing down towards the fleeing drug dealers. Peters and Graham were still running, trolley being dragged behind them. The crates had provided limited cover for them, and I feared for the content’s safety.

I shook my head. There I was, helping a bunch of criminals get away with illicit drugs, and I was worried the narcotics would get damaged. How did I get into this? No time for self-doubt. I took aim and put a solid beam of coherent light onto the back of one of the police. In an instant, the ionised air had a similar effect that my stun paradigm had and the cop threw his hands up in agony as an arc of electricity flicked from the wall beside him. He fell to his hands and knees, stunned but not out. His comrade turned and fired at me, causing me to duck back behind the wall. Shouts from below told me the others had pinpointed my location and I could make out their forms as they tried to reposition. I could see a few of them running back towards a ladder well on the other side of the mezzanine, trying to get into a flanking position. If they flanked me, I’d be in real trouble.

I started to fall back, firing off another couple of shots. I only managed to hit the cop’s shield, which did little to stop him. He had lowered down, using his shield to cover both his fallen comrade and himself. He was checking if he was okay, and had stopped firing at me. I turned to fire at the encroaching flankers, but this swiftly reminded me of the downside to using the Armatek Electron Gun – the range. There was a very short distance where the ionising is effective. The mezzanine was simply too wide for me to get off useful hits. They had no such disadvantages, firing off several hardlight rounds at me. I activated my nanites once more, pulling an energy shield around myself to deflect the rounds. Two of the shots dissipated off my shield, while the third went wide.

I kept pulling back, ducking behind what small cover I could find. Several more shots hit my shield and I started to feel it weaken. I couldn’t keep it up for long. I turned around and tried to find a hatchway I could duck into. The nearest one was about twenty metres away – there was no way I’d be able to make it if I dashed. I couldn’t see around a ducting pipe in the mezzanine either, to see if it was safe to translate to. I needed to get closer before I could teleport safely.

Just as I started to shuffle back some more, the deck below me gave a shuddering shake. Before I managed to work out what was happening, the entire section I was on simply crumbled and I fell through to the ground below.

I landed heavily on a piece of inert machinery, the air leaving me in a wheezing cough. I rolled onto the deck below, my ribs aching. I could see the mezzanine above and the space I’d been crouched on was simply missing. A perfect circle of the metal deck had simply dissolved. I was reminded again of the enemy nano-proliferation user. I still hadn’t located him, and I was on the defensive.
Where was Artemis?

I tried to raise her on my overlay, but just as with Chief Markum I couldn’t get anything out. I realised they must be still jamming us.

I looked around and saw the one positive aspect to my current position; there was plenty of cover down here. I started to dart between machinery, dodging hardlight rounds and keeping my head down. I keep heading aft, but I could make out the police that had tried to flank me. They were running along the mezzanine still, keeping pace with me. I tried to recall the layout of the concourse, from when we’d checked it out earlier. I was sure there was a compartment down here, further down. If I could make it to there I’d be able to make better time and get away from these military police.

I got up and made another dash between cover, narrowly avoiding several shots. One did manage to get through, but my shield caught it. In a flash the shield collapsed, falling away as the nanites holding it in place overloaded and died. I stumbled as I got to the next machine and caught myself on a guard cover. I was about to check my pursuer’s location, when a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turn back in time to see an arm of the machine swing out and smash into my face. I was launched back into open ground, my gun clattering to the floor and skidding away from me. I saw stars briefly and tried to scramble to my feet, but only ended up stumbling some more. The machine arm, what appeared to be a lifting appending for the machine I was near, moved again. It grasped my leg and hoisted me up. I cried out in pain as the machine clasped my lower leg in its metal grip and I tried to wriggle free.

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!” cried a loud voice off to my left. I turned to see one of the police aiming a large energy pistol at me, but his left hand was extended towards the machine I was dangling from. I looked around, trying to find a good spot I could translate to, but he had other ideas. “You won’t be able to translate, I’ve got your implant locked down. So don’t even think about it.”

True to his word, I tried to teleport a foot down to get out of the machine’s grasp, but my nanites seemed to assemble sluggishly. I couldn’t assemble enough to create the effect.

More police arrived, and soon surrounded me. When they had cuffed me, the nano-proliferation cop opened his hand and the machine dropped me.
Where in the galaxy was Artemis?
I kept thinking.

12.

The only consolation I had was that I was sure that Graham had gotten away. I didn’t see him or Peters when they hauled me into the station brig. That meant that the Dreaming would get its much needed fuel. Or it would if, somehow, the military police didn’t link me to the ship and impound it. As for my nano-proliferation, when we got to the brig the nano user who had collared me gave me an injection. His name was Lieutenant Killian, according to his name badge. He had clearly had more experience with using nanites that I did, and I was betting he was a Specialist as well. They were more common than Generalists like me.

“This will send a signal to your implant that will deactivate it for twelve hours. You’ll receive another every eleven, until you’re bailed or released.” he explained.

They tossed me into a cell while they sorted out the other thug. He was still alive and had to be taken to the infirmary. After an hour, Lt. Killian pulled me from the cell and led me to an interview room.

Little had changed in all the millennia of police procedures. There was always loads of forms to fill out, interviews to be had and the same bad coffee available the galaxy over. The interview room was your standard three by three metre plain white walled cell. A table dominated the centre of the room, with a solid chair on either side bolted to the deck. Killian seated me opposite him, and he spent the first few minutes silently tapping away on a tablet.

Eventually, he graced me with his attention. My apprehension had waned to boredom by then, and whatever effect he was trying to achieve wasn’t working.

“You’re in quite a lot of trouble, Mr Shore.” he said, looking me deadpan.

Shore?
I thought, trying not to let my surprise show. My mind instantly reverted to smartarse mode.

“Really? You didn’t just invite me here as a consultant?”

“You really should take this more seriously.”

“Why? What are charging me for?”

“Seriously?”

“I was never actually charged with anything, you just started shooting. I was actually trying to defend myself.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me? We have you on camera, your
own
cameras, fleeing the scene.”

“Right. What was I fleeing, again?”

He looked at me as if I was an idiot. I probably was, but what the heck?

“What are you playing at? You know damn well what you were running from.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I told you, I was attacked by you and your men.”

He gave me that look again, but didn’t say anything for a few moments. I used the time to send my mind into high gear.
What the hell was going on? Why don’t they know who I am?
I did have one thing going for me; they did not have
themselves
on camera, that much I was sure. Killian has blanked them all from the cameras, it was how they’d snuck up on my Tactical App. If I could play dumb for long enough, stall them, maybe Max would figure something out to get me out of here, or at least have the foresight to get the Dreaming underway.

“You fired on military police, who had clearly identified themselves as such.” he said eventually.

“Self-defence and I used a less-than-lethal side arm. I don’t even need a license for that. I didn’t hear them identify themselves. I didn’t know it was police. I hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“Bullshit. We have you on camera associating with an individual that we’ve been investigating for some time. One Wilson Graham. You were attending a deal that was going down and we knew about it. You were there, you were caught.”

“I was passing through.”

I could see he was getting angry.

“What were you doing in that part of the station?”

“I told you, passing through!”

“Your duties have nothing to do with that region, you’re a cook for fucksake. Can the bullshit act and come straight with us. It’s the only way you’re getting out of this without some serious time in the brig. Give up Wilson Graham, his associates or whoever you’re working for, Able Serviceman Shore, or I swear I’ll toss you in a cell and you’ll never see the light of the stars again.”

He was getting red faced and I thought he was going to reach over the table and hit me. I was trying to stifle a laugh, and he stood up in a huff. He gave me one last glare and stalked out of the room. At the threshold he turned and spoke.

“If Able Serviceman Tefferton wakes up and gives me what I need, that will be your last lifeline gone. I’d rethink your position if I was you, you’re swimming in hot shit and the temperature’s rising.”

I flipped him a mock salute.

He stalked off, banging the door behind him. I sat there for a few moments, thinking things through. Someone had to have accessed the station ID records, then added my face and biometrics to the database as this Able Serviceman Shore. If Artemis had alerted the crew to my arrest, they could have gotten Tac hooked up and done it that way. Would Maxine allow other crew to get involved, though? Her style was to pursue more legitimate legal defence than outright tampering with official Protectorate information systems.

It was possible that some other crewmember had talked Tac into intervening, although I was having trouble thinking who would have done that. Most of the others were thinkers in Maxine’s camp. We weren’t criminals, and we’d tried hard to stay within the bounds of the law while operating on the frontiers. That left Artemis.

How would she have convinced Tac to do this, though? Tac was wary of her, rightly so. Max would never had allowed Tac to leave the ship, especially not under the care of Art, and he’d have to be plugged into a hardline somewhere on the ship to access databases with this level of encryption.

My thoughts went around in circles for nearly an hour, until someone finally came and collected me. They led me back to my cell, gave me a dose of stink eye, and clanged the cell door shut.

“Well this didn’t turn out how I thought it would.” I said to no one in particular.

I was never one for pacing, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do just that. It wasn’t like I had a whole lot of anything else to do. The cell was a light grey colour, with a folding cot, wash basin and stainless steel toilet. I walked the four              steps between each landmark, thinking hard. I had hours ago tried to generate an effect with my nanites, despite what Killian had said. All I had managed was to give myself a slight headache. All my overlay wireless connections were severed, and I couldn’t even access the applications in my interface overlay.

This was due to an EM generator that continuously broadcasted blanketing waves of communication scrambling energy. All electronics in here were old school tech only, and all communication lines were hardwired.

After some time, I gave up on the pacing and sat on the cot. Eventually I laid back, and soon I dozed. I was going to have to trust my crew to get me out of this one.