Ghosts of Empire (Book 4 of The Empire of Bones Saga) (26 page)

William considered that. “With the cordon of military around the island, you’re not likely to get that close. But perhaps there’s another way. If we get back into the city, I can arrange for us to hack into one of the orbital transceivers.

“Those would be the ones that Olivia used to contact you before all this mess got out of control. We won’t have long, but you should be able to call your ship and have them verify they made it to the island.”

“How are the prisoners going to get through that cordon without drawing attention?” Captain Black asked. “The forces on the island will have to drive our military back to get them under protection. No offense, but I’d prefer to see no loss of life here, on either side.”

Kelsey considered the situation and had to admit it posed a few challenges. “What we need to do is get the military to allow them to pass through. Maybe when Olivia makes her counter move, she can order them to stand down?”

“That’s a big maybe,” William said. “It might be best to intercept the prisoners and get them to a safe location to sit out the fighting. Then, once the coup is dealt with, they can go in safety.”

Captain Black nodded slowly. “That might work, but only if we can figure out where they are and get word to them. Once we locate them, we can slip them into one of the ports closest to the island. I’m thinking of one that has a large warehouse that they can hide inside.”

“If we can get close, my com should connect with theirs,” Kelsey said. “Close being within twenty kilometers. How about one of those stealth atmospheric craft?”

“It’s a risk, but not a terrible one,” Black said. “Still, I’m not sure Admiral Mertz would be pleased if I send you right out to the military.”

“Perhaps we should try a different method,” William said. “The press will have any number of air cars circling the island in case there are developments. If we masquerade as one, we don’t even need to use a stealth craft. We can mix with the crowd.”

Kelsey liked it. “Fortune favors the bold. Let’s make that happen.” She turned to Captain Black. “Now, I believe you promised me some powered armor. If this all goes into the crapper, I want to have some protection. And if it goes smoothly, then I’ll have it with me when we find the missing prisoners. That makes rescuing them a lot simpler.”

The dark-skinned man shook his head. “I think I see why you give Admiral Mertz grey hairs. I believe we have something that will work for you. It’s has some upgraded features when compared to the original Fleet Marine armor, but that shouldn’t stop you from using it without training.”

“I’ve gotten quite good at figuring things out on my own,” she said. “As for Jared, you have no idea. He’s my half-brother, you see. I’ve been making him age prematurely for decades.”

William raised an eyebrow. “He’s from the other side of the sheets, is he?”

“That galls both him and Ethan, for entirely different reasons. Jared would rather not have his parentage hanging over his head and my twin looks at him as a threat because of it. To my shame, I shared Ethan’s point of view for entirely too long.”

“That’s completely understandable,” William said seriously. “I’m surprised he doesn’t see you as a threat. I assume you were born after him by some few minutes?”

She nodded. “Ten whole minutes. And thank God for that. I’d rather be doing something interesting.”

“Interesting isn’t precisely the word I’d choose for what you do,” Black said. “Come with me.”

He took them on another trek through the facility to a massive armory. Kelsey was impressed. It was even bigger than the one aboard
Invincible
. Row after row of full size marine combat armor stood ready for use.

Compared to her lean Raider armor, it was thick with artificial muscle. It looked exactly like the marine armor they’d recovered from derelict Imperial ships orbiting around Boxer Station. Only these suits weren’t in desperate need of refurbishment.

These suits were heavy enough that they stood without the need for a rack. Unfortunately, whoever had lined them up had them facing out from the wall. With the entrance at the back, that might prove inconvenient if people needed to get armored in a hurry. She’d obviously been spending too much time around marines over the last year.

She ran her hand down one of the heavily muscled arms. “Tell me these are implant controlled.”

“They are,” Black said. “And they come in a few different sizes, one of which should be short enough for you. The armorers normally use their implants to move them. Give me a minute to get some of the men to bring it out so we can fit it to you.”

Considering that most marines towered over her, she was glad she didn’t have to make do.

“There’s no need,” she said, wrapping her arms around one. She grunted, lifted the massive suit, and walked it out into the open. It was heavy enough that she had to turn off the governors on her artificial muscles, but it still didn’t max her out. It came close, though.

At only a meter and a half, no one expected to see feats of strength from her. Yet the Old Empire Marine Raider bone reinforcement and artificial muscles increased her power tenfold. She could only imagine how strong a similar enhancement would make someone like Talbot. Her lover was not a small man by any measure.

Captain Black blinked at her. “Okay, then. I knew about your enhancement, but it’s so easy to forget. Climb in and these gentlemen will begin fitting it.”

Kelsey entered the armor from the rear and ordered the suit to close up via her implants. They must not have expected many people to come in and just take a suit, because it didn’t require any authentication at all. Something else Talbot wouldn’t approve of.

The supports that held her were set wrong for her height, so she’d need to come back out for the techs to adjust them, but she could look at the armor first.

The systems came online and began feeding telemetry right into her implants. The dark interior of the helmet vanished and she found she could see everyone just fine. She tried to turn on the interior cameras to project her own image on the faceplate, but found the armor didn’t have that capability.

Maybe that was what the designers intended.

That’s exactly what they intended.

Kelsey flinched. “Dammit! Don’t do that!”

She found speaking aloud made her feel better, and inside the privacy of her new suit, no one would think she was crazy. Well, any crazier than they already considered her.

I’m sorry. I was just trying to be helpful.

“We’re going to need to work out some rules of the road. It’s kind of creepy having you in my head watching everything I do.” That’s when it occurred to her that the program was running when she went to the restroom. Christ.

Well, it was too late now. At least she hadn’t had sex since she’d taken him into her head. She really needed to get him moved into some other system. If she could.

“It’s okay, Ned. I’m going to call you that, okay?”

It
is
my name.

“I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

Only the strong surface thoughts. It’s almost as though you’re talking to yourself. That I can hear. The tactical doctrine of the marine armor is to make it as intimidating as possible. Faceless killing machines project the right kind of image. With Raider armor, we don’t want people to see us until it’s too late, and there are circumstances where a face is useful. Also, we have our own ways of intimidating people.

“Such as?” She began running through a systems diagnostic of the armor while she conversed with the ghost in her head. Everything was green.

The projectors that put your face on the helmet can put other things there, too. Grinning skulls and demonic faces are particular favorites. Were favorites.

His mental voice sounded so sad that she felt a chill go down her spine. It would be very, very easy to think of the program as a real person with actual emotions.

“I’ll keep that in mind going forward. I hope this doesn’t seem ungrateful, but you’re sounding more like a person than you did the last time. That’s…well, creepy.”

I’ve integrated all the data files and raw memory maps. I feel like more of a person than I did before. It’s more than a bit unsettling.

“Memory maps?”

That’s what I called them when I made backups of my vids and files during the rebellion. I told my implants to make direct copies of my memories. Our doctor didn’t think they would even be readable, much less useful if I died, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. I think I might have been wrong.

“How so?”

Now I really know that I’m dead. It’s as though I’m a ghost in your implants, watching things take place that I can’t control. I feel like a ghost.

That made things much more complicated. What had she created? When she’d told
Invincible
to update the program’s ability to integrate data files, she might have done way more than she’d bargained for. She might have created a new kind of AI.

She was going to have to do a lot more testing of what this being was, but now was not the time. Even though the conversation had only taken a minute, the others were waiting for her to talk with them.

“Is there anything else that you need to tell me before I deal with my other problems?”

Just one thing. The search of my recordings is complete. I didn’t record myself accessing the ship’s computer on
Persephone
.

“Dammit. I really need that code. No offense, but I’d like to have more than you to tell me about my implants, and that ship is a treasure trove that we can’t use.”

I didn’t say I couldn’t provide the code. As I incorporated my memory maps, I remembered things. In this case, I found the code about an hour ago. I’ll gladly share it with you, Kelsey.

“Why didn’t you say so then?”

You were a little busy confronting these men. And you told me to keep quiet.

That last sounded a tad smug. “I can see I’m going to have my hands full with you. Fine. Thank you. Do those memories address how you died or what happened to
Persephone
?”

Unfortunately, no. Perhaps those things will be made clear when you assume command.

* * * * *

Away from the marble-paneled lobby, the broadcast station was more utilitarian. Bland white walls, bright lights, and somewhat worn carpeting in commercial tan.

It was also busier. Hordes of people moved quickly down the halls and into various rooms stuffed full of equipment Olivia couldn’t identify. All chattering away in what sounded like a foreign language. One made up of technical phrases and acronyms that meant nothing to her.

The receptionist led the way through the crowd and up to a door with a security lock. It opened with a card she produced. “This corridor takes you directly to the main studio control booth.”

“Thank you. I won’t forget your help. If your boss fires you, I’ll find you a place on my staff that will more than make up for the loss.”

The woman snorted. “If you’re serious, I’ll submit my resignation today. Leaving this place is no loss.”

“You’re hired. Come with us.”

Olivia led the way into a darkened control room at the end of the short hall. Screens covered the walls, some showing a news desk where a talking head was jabbering on about something. Probably Olivia’s supposed death, based on the burning wreckage in the vid behind him. Other screens showed an empty seat in what looked like Abigail’s office.

It wouldn’t be empty much longer, based on the countdown clock beside it. Five minutes to go.

A man without a jacket, his sleeves rolled up and his face perspiring heavily, gawked at them and shot to his feet. “What the hell are you people doing in here? Get out! We go live in four.”

“Yes, you will,” Olivia said. “Just not with the broadcast you expect. Listen up, people. What you’re reporting is a lie. I’m Olivia West and I’m very much alive. Abigail King is staging a coup and you’re going to help me stop her.”

“Bullshit! I don’t know you. Master Calder said—”

George raised his stunner and took the man down. “Who’s the associate producer?”

No one spoke, but everyone looked at a younger man with a monumentally ugly tie. George stalked over and pulled him to his feet. “Do you recognize Coordinator West?”

Motion on one of the screens got Olivia’s attention. Abigail was sitting down behind her desk. The woman’s smug expression of anticipation infuriated her. They had three minutes.

“I’m going down to the set,” she said. “Make certain they don’t cut to Abigail.”

The receptionist—Olivia really needed to learn the woman’s name—led her to a door on the other side of the room. Several of the resistance members followed. A short set of stairs led down to another door and into the studio.

There were a lot more people running equipment than she’d expected. Dozens of men and women focused on their tasks, all surrounding a brightly lit desk with the talking head. He sounded like he was preparing to cut over to Abigail.

Olivia had to hand it to him. The man looked only mildly alarmed as she brushed past the cameras and stepped close to the set.

“Cut to commercial,” she said softly from just outside the camera range.

The man blinked once and turned up the brightness of his smile. He picked right back up with his calm, measured monologue, barely glancing at Olivia.

“As I mentioned earlier, Deputy Coordinator King is about to make a statement from her office on the terrible events that took place earlier today. A highly placed source in the administration has informed this reporter that some very shocking allegations will be revealed in just a few minutes.

“You’ll want to hear them first right here on Channel 7 News. Let’s break for a short commercial and we’ll be right back.”

Someone off the set shouted. “Live in fifty-five seconds.”

The anchor stood and pulled Olivia onto the set. “Sit right here beside me, Coordinator. My name is Jackson Zapata. Just call me Jackson. I’ll make the assumption that the rumors of your death are grossly exaggerated.”