Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1) (29 page)

Chapter FORTY

SYSTEM FAILURE

Lieutenant Fawkes checked the big holographic screen one more time, as he did every other minute. Nothing out of the ordinary; the thirty-two cameras were all silent, showing empty hallways of the sleeping base.

Fawkes always liked the serene night shift, also referred as the ‘zombie shift’ by guards. His work started at eight o’clock in the evening, standard Earth time, and continued until dawn. By then, most of the personnel would be out of the base premises, at their homes. He didn’t need to be anywhere, not after his girlfriend had kicked him out of the house. The nightshift gave him the time to relax and plan his future. It also helped keeping unwanted questions at bay. If there was no one to ask, he wouldn’t have to face stupid interrogations about his wrecked relationship.

He turned to his read—the latest issue of
Galactic Heroes
—hoping he’d be able to land a post on board one of those Consortium dreadnoughts they introduced every other week. Since Helen was out of his life, there was nothing restricting him from travelling space.

***

A shadow passed through the main corridor, right under the security. The cameras had the ability to switch between modes to catch active cloaks but whoever set the grid hadn’t even thought of actually being under attack, let alone by an invisible enemy. After all, they were deep within the core systems; the seat of the Consortium.

Once clear of the camera’s range, the shadow flickered and the silhouette morphed into a man in black clothing. Eremite Shevchenko looked around with calculating eyes and found the grate his mission plan mentioned, connected to the main airshaft.

“I am in,” he whispered.

“Good, Eremite. Continue to the server room,” a layered, deep voice echoed in his ears.

Shevchenko went toward the wall and put his hands on the cold surface, scanning for something. He found what he was looking for within seconds and pulled a metal marble out of his coat-pocket. He placed the small, round object on a spot on the wall and stepped back.
One…two…three…
The marble made a cracking sound and sent sparks throughout the surface of the wall, melting the joints of the grate the moment he finished counting.

Eremite Shevchenko removed the mine from the wall and opened the grate, crawling inside the ventilation tunnel. He checked the control box placed inside the tunnel and nodded in satisfaction—the motion sensors were offline. Someone had the solid idea of placing a security control box somewhere no one would guess. But Shevchenko wasn’t an ordinary intruder.

He followed the tunnel, making very little sound and climbed to the second floor. He heard footsteps near another grate on the second floor but decided not to incapacitate the two guards patrolling. His orders were to remain a ghost unless conflict was unavoidable.

He patiently waited for the guards to disappear past the far end corner and pushed the grate off, dropping into the air duct. He pulled his left sleeve up to reveal a bracelet on his wrist. Touching the thing brought up a holographic schematic of the building. The marker he’d put earlier blinked, showing him the path to his objective. Shevchenko turned the map off and replaced the grate. He ran for the second room to the right, leaving no trace behind.

***

The blast door was a ten-inch thick titanium block, designed to keep away intruders. The room had huge air tunnels connecting to the surface but it had several layers of security measures, and it would be hard to pass through a five-meter long fan without turning it off. That would alert the guards and he didn’t want it. The intel said two armed guards stood inside the corridor behind the door and four more in the matrix chamber. He could easily take down the six guards, but the risk of setting off an alarm would ruin the whole operation. The man knew better; his boss wouldn’t let him do that, or any other future errors for that matter. He gulped and turned his attention back on his job.

He pulled out a tiny disc from his gadget arsenal and held it on the keypad near the huge door. After a touch of few buttons on his wrist band, the disc beeped twice and the keypad lit green, swinging the
impenetrable
door wide open.
The Creator is with me on this beautiful day.

The guards inside jumped from their spots, not expecting visitors. One of the guards reached for his communicator badge but stopped when the huge door opened wide.

The corridor was empty. The taller guard signaled his colleague to check it out and the chunky man carefully made his way to the corridor, waiting to be attacked with every step.

To his surprise, the place was empty and everything seemed to be in order.

“Fawkes,” he touched his communicator and hailed the control room.

“What’s up Morgan?”

“You saw anything weird?”

“Negative, all is quiet up here,” Fawkes’ voice echoed from the communicator and into the empty hallway. “Is something wrong?”

“A glitch probably,” Morgan replied. “Better send a tech team in the morning.” He went back inside, putting away his gun and stretching his sleepy, numb arms. The huge door closed behind him and the keypad beeped once, confirming the lock. Neither of the guards noticed the blurry shadow passing right by them.

Shevchenko de-cloaked once inside the matrix chamber. Four guards were patrolling the room, as per the mission notes. Two were on the platforms nearby, hovering over the huge farm of computers centered in the room. The other two guards walked the room on a random path.

“I am inside the matrix chamber.”

“Good. You will upload the virus to the sixth tower, Eremite Shevchenko.”

“If the Creator wills.”

He had to be precise and cunning if he was to succeed. If he harmed the guards in any way, sooner or later his presence would be known and people would start searching for signs of tampering with the servers. Even these over-confident idiots would be able to figure that out. He was expendable but he couldn’t afford jeopardizing the mission.

Shevchenko activated his cloak again, becoming invisible to the naked eye. He tried not to make any sound, slowly moving through the computer towers.

Number six;
he came in front of the tower in the middle. The next part was tricky; he had to remove the casing of the rack and attach the data drive to the core. His cloak still had minutes to go before drying his charge but removing the casing meant noise and movement outside his cloak field.

He observed the guard movements for a while and decided to risk activating his hearing augmentation, draining more of his power. The moment the dark figure activated his nano-enhanced hearing, the previously inaudible noises in the room intensified to a level like the crescendo of an orchestra. The breathing of the guards was like winds of autumn and their footsteps sounded like drum rolls. If he wanted, he could have heard the beating of their hearts. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He was new to the world of augmentation and it was
fairly
easy to lose oneself in zeal. When Archibald sent him to do the work of the Creator, he’d thought it was penance for his sins. Instead, he’d become a tool to spread the message. Shevchenko had no idea how Archibald Cosmon and this mysterious figure were connected but the Prophet had spoken and his wishes were law. Shevchenko now belonged to this man. Any eremite would die to be in his place.

When the guards were clear, he pulled the rack with one firm move and opened the casing. He connected the small chip to one of the data hubs on the core and activated it.

A cough boomed right behind Shevchenko, almost stopping his heart but the intruder relaxed when he realized his augmented hearing had enhanced the sound from behind the towers.

By the time one of the guards passed over tower six, he was already on his way back. Eremite Shevchenko used his remote to open the blast door again, confusing the two guards even further. He slipped by the two sleep-worn soldiers trying to figure out what was wrong with the blast door, and made his way back to the air ducts.

“Damn it, this thing is broken,” he heard the tall one talking to the other. “Inform one of the technicians at the end of the shift.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

***

In his protective suit, Shevchenko watched the compound from the top of one of the nearby hills. There were no alarms, no additional activity going on the base. He’d entered and exited without anyone noticing, as he’d been ordered. A touch to the button on his wristband brought the holographic screen before him again, a mysterious, bearded figure sitting comfortably in the frame.

“The Creator was with me today. I have completed His divine will.”

“You did well, Eremite Shevchenko. The defense grid is down. No one will know what is coming.”

“How can I spread the will of the Creator?”

“Come back home and we will see how can you serve, Eremite.”

“If the Creator wills.”

“Yes.”

Agent Shevchenko afforded a broad smile. His new boss was pleased with him and he would surely tell of his excellent service to Archibald. It meant the Creator would lavish him with riches and power as promised in the book of Cosmon as he spread the will. Shevchenko boarded the small shuttle he’d left on the hill and took off for Earth, not aware of the newly activated clock ticking under the cockpit seat.

Chapter FORTY-ONE

THE EYES OF A STRANGER

Brother Cavil watched his old man enjoy his favorite soup. After an hour of heated debates with the chief cook about how to prepare the thing—and the priest calming down his father more than once when the stubborn man suggested replacing the ship’s cook with Sarah—they’d satisfied the reverend’s needs. The next half hour was about the usefulness and added taste of curcuma longa and garden thyme. They’d also had to stop the cook from breaking the old man into two when Reverend Marcus had waved a bunch of thyme at him with a rather nasty meaning.

“The years did not change him,” Brother Cavil said to Ray after the fuss was over.

“I’m guessing you’re talking about that gesture.”

Brother Cavil giggled. “It has something to do with one’s urinary system.”

“Please stop before you say something I can’t forget, I’m about to eat.” Ray winced. “You know, you still haven’t told me about
why
you were separated,” Ray poured himself some soup. Fuss or not, the company of his friends and a peaceful meal was all he needed after the real chaos on the super-dreadnought’s bridge. Even with the elderly man’s unexpected mood swings and rants.

“I was married once,” Brother Cavil shrugged, surprising Ray. “Her name was Isabella.”

The torment in the old priest’s eyes was obvious like the sun. “Never realized you were the marrying type,” Ray mumbled over his bite. “You seem to be into nature more than people.”

“I like my plants. It does not mean that I do not possess a reproductive system.”

“Still eating by the way.” Ray looked at his soup with distaste. “So, Isabella?”

The old man sighed, putting his spoon on the table, suddenly losing his appetite. “There was a fire,” his eyes were hazy. “I tried to save her but could not do it in time. There were children trapped in the room and she wanted me to bring them out first.”

“You had children?” Ray asked.

“No,” the priest shook his head, “they were her students. She was teaching how to paint,” Brother Cavil pursed his lips. “We were expecting a baby, but…” His tears kept him from going on.

“There you go,” Ray reached for the napkin holder and passed it to the old man.

“Thank you.” The priest took it and loudly blew his nose, putting a faint smile on Ray’s lips. “Isabella died in that fire and her father never forgave me.”

“Her father?”

“Damien. You know him as Grandmaster Ellok.”

Ray raised his eyebrows, waving his head in realization, “That explains the formality and that old debt thing.”

“Well, he was always skeptical about my father’s work,” Brother Cavil pursed his lips. “After the fire, he wanted to hurt me and used his judgment about the work as an excuse to exile my father.”

“He could’ve done much worse.”

“No,” Brother Cavil shook his head. “My father, he was one of the thirteen. The representative of our sept in the council. If Ellok had done something, it would have caused a civil war.”

“But he exiled your father. Didn’t that cause a stir?”

Brother Cavil smiled weakly. “My father left peacefully of his own will. He never talks about it but it may be why the other council members have had my back all this time.”

“He prevented a civil war.” Ray looked at Reverend Marcus with profound respect.

“Yes.”

“I wonder how Grandmaster Ellok would react to Ga’an.” Ray chuckled.

“Well, I guess he is busy rebuilding the city.”

“Or he’s dead.” Ray shrugged. “After all, we last saw him leaving with that Caius figure.”

“Well, Light burn my soul, but I do not feel bad about it, Raymond.”

“I understand.” Ray put down his spoon and wiped his mouth. “I’ll check with Ga’an. He said he may be onto something about Commander Matthews.”

***

“What do we have?”

“You do not have to be here, Raymond Harris.”

“I want to, Ga’an. I need to.”

Ga’an nodded. “One of the search teams found something. Dried blood.”

“Lead the way.”

Ga’an, accompanied by four marines, led Ray through several corridors illuminated with soft white light from under the walkways and from lamps attached to each arch.

“This place looks depressing.” Ray looked at his reflection on the dark wall plating as they passed through several junctions.

“It is the waste disposal area.”

“Yeah, no one wanted to decorate the toilet. At least they could’ve used a lighter color.”

Ga’an looked at him, confused, but Ray waved him on. “Just babbling, Ga’an.”

They and their squad arrived at an intersection where two more marines waited.

“Sirs,” a young marine saluted them. “Over here.” He pointed at the corridor to his left. It was around forty meters long, Ray estimated, with another passageway at the end.

“Where are we, exactly?”

“Junction thirty, deck twenty-seven. This is one of the eight waste disposal rooms.”

“Eight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You guys need a gastroenterologist.” Ray’s smile died when he saw the marine’s face go sullen. “I’m sorry, airman.”

“It’s Colby, sir.”

“I’m sorry, Colby. Was just trying to ease the air.”
And was doing a great job…Ray, you fool!

“Commander Matthews was a good man, sir.”

Ray nodded, feeling the shame in his bones.
Another dead on your account, Ray. Go on, make another inappropriate joke.

“What is the situation?” Ga’an asked, saving Ray from sinking deeper.

“We found blood splatters, starting three decks up. It looks like this is where the trail ends.”

Ga’an readied his rifle, “Let us move forward.” He took point, moving cautiously through the dark corridor, Ray moving right beside him. The two marines who were waiting them fell behind him and Ray, followed by the rest of the squad.

They entered the waste disposal room. Room wouldn’t be the word Ray would use. Tanks lined up one after another, almost thirty meters in height and at least seven meters in width. Several mezzanines loomed over the tanks. Valves and pipes came and went through the back wall, connecting the containers to the rest of the ship’s sewage system.

“Search the room for signs of Commander Matthews,” Ga’an said, signaling the marines to scatter. “The steam makes it hard to see, be on your guard.”

“Best bet is to search one of the tanks,” Ray said. “Colby, what’s inside these tanks?”

“Waste, sir.”

“Obviously. I meant if there are any chemicals or mechanisms used for treatment.”

“Yes, sir. We apply various chemicals at different stages for sewer sludge.”

“We may find Matthews there then. What better way to get rid of a body when you can dissolve it into nothingness?”

Marine Colby’s face went sullen. “A commander shouldn’t die like this.”

“No man should, Colby.” Ray followed after Ga’an to check one of the upper platforms while the other marines checked the ground floor.

“Is there any way to see the contents of the tanks, Airman Colby?” Ga’an asked, still holding his rifle high, expecting something to come out of the shadows.

“The tanks have sensors. It can tell the composition and size of whatever inside.”

“We should check it out.”

Colby, nodded and passed the order to the other group. “The team downstairs will check it out.”

“Tell them to check all the containers, no matter if they find Commander Matthews.”

“Sir?”

“If there is one breach, there may very well be others.”

Colby nodded and Ray saw the young marine gripping his rifle tighter as they moved into the steam clouds hovering over the platforms.

“Some stench.” Ray hoped he wouldn’t need to puke. No matter how well-sealed the system, there was still the smell of goo.
Or maybe it’s my nerves.
“One would think—”

Ga’an stopped and crouched, aiming his rifle.

“What’s it!” Ray whispered, mimicking the Ancient without any idea what they were about to shoot.

“Something moved within the steam.”

“What! Where?” Ray narrowed his eyes. “I can’t see a damn thing, Ga’an!”

Ga’an didn’t reply. Instead, he moved forward with careful steps, still crouching, trying not to move too much steam with his wind and reveal their spot.

“Ga’an, there’s nothing…I’ll be damned,” Ray noticed the movement too. There was a shadow behind one of the consoles. Without realizing, the search party had trapped him; Ray’s group coming from one end while the other marines were searching for Matthews down near the stairway at the other end of the platform.

“Hirsh, come toward us. We have movement,” Colby spoke quietly into his communicator and Ray saw two marines taking the stairs a second later, while the others positioned themselves behind cover, ready to shoot.

Ray thought time slowed down. The marines took ages to climb the stairs. He felt cold sweat running down his back. He heard nothing but his own breathing.

“Ray!” Brother Cavil’s voice boomed in Ray’s ear.

Ray jumped, his rifle slipping through his fingers off the platform, all the way down to the metal floor with a noise like thunder. All hell broke loose.

“Stop!” Ga’an yelled, firing his rifle at the shadow that dashed to another cover the moment Ray’s rifle hit the ground. Ga’an was quick but the shadow was quicker. The tall Ancient’s burst hit the console, sending sparks into the darkness of the room. The marines who’d positioned themselves downstairs tried to snipe the figure, firing controlled shots, and the two at the other end ran toward the intruder.

“Ray! Is everything all right? I need to speak to you! It is about the Arinar!”

“Not now, old man!” Ray pulled out his gun and tried to see
something
to shoot. He couldn’t risk firing at the marines coming from the other end.

“Is that gunfire?” Brother Cavil asked.

“Yes!”

“Oh, all right. I will wait.”

“Seven depths of hell!” Ray felt the wind of something passing right beside his right ear and he leaned to his left by pure instinct. “That hurt!”

“I said I would wait!”

“Just skimmed by a bullet!” Ray touched his right cheek and felt a sudden burn.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Colby!” Ray shouted over his shoulder, going prone. “Colby, you all right?” He looked back to see Colby and his heart sank. Airman Colby lay dead a few meters behind him, his terrified, dead eyes staring as if asking
why.
Ray touched his right cheek once again, his face hardening.

He looked up from Colby’s body and saw the skirmish had heated. The figure had hidden himself well behind a console, hindering Ga’an’s aim. A huge conduit passing under the rail made an elbow near the figure, blocking the marines’ view from the lower floor. The shadow exchanged fire with the two marines at the other end of the rail, who were at a disadvantage as they tried to avoid friendly fire.

Ray turned back and looked at Colby’s face one more time. He had been so young, a full life ahead of him. Now, it was only the void. Ray stood up and walked into the steam cloud in front of him, not heeding Ga’an’s warning or attempt to stop him. There was nothing in Ray but anger. He didn’t run, he didn’t flinch. He just walked with purpose. The figure’s surprise was something to see when he realized Ray stood right behind him with a gun at his head.

One shot flared inside the dense steam smoke, creating an orange lightshow and Ray emerged a few seconds later, passing Ga’an, giving him the gun without a word.
So young, full of hopes.

He reached for Colby’s tag and closed his eyes. “Someone look at that console and find Commander Matthews’ body, now!”