Skybreach (The Reach #3) (33 page)

“Here,” Harald said, pointing at a terminal screen before him.  “Check for yourself.”

Keller waddled furiously toward the screen and pushed the other man aside as he reached it, then began to read.  He tapped a button several times, scrolling through the information, and as he did, his expression began to change from outrage to confusion.

“We need to cut the comms,” Yun said surreptitiously
.  “And we need to do it
now
.”

“The EMP?” Silvestri said.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know where to plant it?”

“I do,” Yun said, “but unless these techs leave, they’re going to catch me in the act.”

“We’ll distract them,” Talia suggested.

Yun nodded, handing his holophone and his earpiece to Silvestri.  “Just remember to stay back.  The EMP is localised, but if you get too close it will fry your phone or any other electronics you have on you.”

“Got it,” Silvestri said.

Keller had taken a step back from the machine and was now conferring quietly with Harald.  As Silvestri approached, the technicians turned to face him.

“We’ve uh… we’ve got some weird shit going on here,” Keller said.  “Something’s not right.  Hang tight there while we make some calls.”

“Is it all right if we go and take our places on the railcar while we wait?” Silvestri said, walking past them.  “It’s been a long day.”

“No, it’s not all right,” Keller said crossly, but Silvestri did not slow down.  “Hey!  Come back here!  We still have to scan your luggage, for a start.”

Talia followed after Silvestri, trying her best to appear like a giddy and excitable traveller who was having trouble containing her enthusiasm.

“Can’t we at least have a look around?” she gushed.  “You said yourself that we have an hour to kill.”

“Hey, this isn’t a kids’ playground, lady,” Keller said, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm.  “This is serious hardware we’re dealing with.”

Talia glanced quickly over her shoulder and saw Yun skulking around behind the terminals, a perplexed look on his face.

Plant the damn thing, Yun
, she thought. 
We don’t have much time.

Beyond the technician, the Redmen had broken from their formation and now stood in a tight circle, as if conferring over something.

Oh, fuck.  If they’re onto us, this is over.  There’s no way we can stand against seven of them.

She allowed herself to be drawn backward by Keller, and they watched as Harald scampered after Silvestri and barred his way.

“Hey!” Keller shouted at Silvestri.  “Do you want your access torn up, buddy?  You do as we tell you, or I’ll have our friends in crimson escort you back down to wherever it was you came from.”

Silvestri acquiesced, following him away from the railcar, then promptly dropped his case.

“Sorry,” he said, taking his time to gather it back up.  He cast a wary eye toward Yun as he straightened.  “I must be nervous.  I do some silly things when I’m nervous.”

“Just keep it in your pants, pal,” Keller said.  “You can’t go running–”

There was a popping sound behind them, and they turned to see that one of the terminal screens had gone dark.  Yun was sauntering back toward the group, trying his best to look inconspicuous.

“Heck, what now?” Keller said, dismayed.  He and Harald both ran back toward the machine and began to inspect it, trying to ascertain what was going on.  They began tapping on the screen as they sought to bring it back to life, but it quickly became evident that there was a serious issue with the device.

“Hey, you!” Keller shouted at Yun, pointing an accusatory finger at him.  “What did you do?”

Yun made no response, continuing to walk away with his hands in his pockets.  Keller grunted in frustration and slammed his hand against the side of the machine.

“Now what?” Talia said to Silvestri.  “If those Redmen turn on us–”

“What’s the problem?” Silvestri said.  His hand fell to the catch on his case, where an assault rifle was waiting inside, and he gave her a toothy grin.  “There’s only seven of them.”

“Silvestri, we can’t–”

There was a shout from one of the Redmen, a curt bark that sounded like an order, and they began to disperse.

Talia’s heart caught in her throat, and she looked around desperately for cover.

Then she could only stand and watch in disbelief.

The Redmen were running, but not toward the railcar.  They were headed toward the elevator that led back down to the Atrium.

32

Duran was choking on smoke and dust and his ears were ringing, but that at least told him one thing: he wasn’t dead yet.

As he crawled to his feet and tried to gather his bearings, he found that he had been knocked back so far that he had landed on the old shuttle tracks of the transit system.  Through the haze he could see that the terminal windows had been shattered in several places, either by the weight of the hoardings being thrown against them, or by shrapnel from the explosion.  Obviously the insurgent had been packing a pretty hefty payload.  There would be nothing left of him, nor
of the Enforcers–

Duran’s stomach dropped.  With that
thought in mind, he knew with d
ead certainty that Zoe could not have survived the blast either – not where she was positioned outside the terminal doors.  He started forward, but then a voice in his mind told him to turn around and leave, to stay away from the windows.  It told him that there was nothing to be gained from looking upon Zoe’s mangled remains, that such a ghastly vision could offer no closure.  It would only haunt his already crowded nightmares for the rest of his life.

But he knew it wasn’t as simple as that.  He couldn’t just leave without finding out for sure what had happened to her.  What if she were dying and in pain?  What is she were suffering?  He couldn’t walk away while that possibility hung in the air.  He had to find out what had happened to her, as terrible and as confronting as that might be.

He had to
know
.

He stumbled forward and reached the shattered window, knocked fragments of plexiglass away with his elbow.  He could feel the heat of the fire outside radiating through, and he knew he couldn’t linger here for long.  The fire would spread, and who knew how long it would be until emergency services arrived?

Assuming they arrive at all
, he thought.

He tumbled through the hole and landed heavily on his back outside the terminal.  As he crawled forward he caught sight of Zoe’s body not far away, crumpled against the doorway, her face turned away from him.

Duran hesitated again.  What if he brushed aside her hair and turned her face toward him, and there was nothing left but a bloody ruin?  Did he really want that to be his final, lingering memory of her?

A light suddenly flared into life, outlining Zoe’s inert body in a harsh white glare, and Duran gasped and reeled backward.  The smoke parted briefly and he saw something tall and dark positioned before her, out of which shone several smaller pinpricks of red and blue light.  It was as if some kind of machine had appeared out of nowhere and now loomed over Zoe’s inert form, like the manifestation of the Grim Reaper itself come to claim her.

Duran recalled the final moment before the explosion, when he had seen a large black shape looming over the doorway.  He had assumed it had been a trick of the light as the detonation had beg
un, but now he realised that hadn’t been the case.

It seemed clear that what he had seen had not been an illusion.  It had been very much real.

And now a door on the contraption was opening.

Faint light spilled out of the aperture, and Duran saw a shadowy figure step forth.  It stood there motionless for a moment, then knelt before Zoe and lifted a hand to her neck.  The gesture finally shocked Duran into awareness of what was happening, and he reached for his .38.

“Get back!” he roared.  “Get your fucking hands off her!”

The figure darted back, hands in the air.  “Whoa!” he said.  “Cool it.  I was just checking for a pulse.  Wasn’t sure if she was still alive.”

Duran glanced down at Zoe, who hadn’t moved, then back at the figure.  He brandished the .38 menacingly.

“Move back,” he ordered.  “Right now.”

The newcomer did as he was told, and as he stepped away, he moved out of the shadow of the machine and into the light of the blaze that had sprung up in the wake of the explosion.

It was Oberend.

Recognition dawned on Knile’s face in return as he stared back at Duran.  It was swiftly replaced by dread.

“Wait a minute, Duran,” he began.

“You piece of
shit
,” Duran said between clenched teeth.  He took another step forward, aimed the .38 right between Knile’s eyes.  “Nice of you to show up.”

For once, Knile seemed lost for words, standing there with his hands in the air with a pleading look in his eyes.

Duran knew that he should be taking Knile prisoner, interrogating him to find out what he knew about Children of Earth, but right now that seemed a distant concern.  Zoe was dead, all was lost.

He just wanted this fucker in the ground.

Duran steadied his shaking hands and his finger tightened on the trigger.

A grid of lights flared over Knile’s shoulder, and there was the sound of heavy footsteps.  Duran switched his aim and saw another of the machines approaching through the smoke.

“Damn,” came an amplified voice.  “Finally found the light switch.  You okay, Knile?”

Duran directed the .38 back at Knile, who hadn’t moved.

“Stop right there!” Duran yelled.  “Get out of the machine.”

The contraption took another two thudding steps, then came to a halt with an awkward grinding sound, like rusted gears gnashing against one another.

“Knile, what’s going?” came the amplified voice once again.  It sounded to Duran like an adolescent.

“Ran into an old friend, Roman,” Knile said, never taking his eyes from Duran.  “Is Remus still there?”

“Here, Knile,” a man said, poking his head around the back of the machine.  He was short and stocky with auburn hair, and he stared at Duran timidly from his hiding place.  “Your friend doesn’t look too… friendly.”

“Get out of the goddamn…
thing
,” Duran said.  “I’m not going to tell you again.”

The machine lurched twice as it attempted to straighten toward Duran, then a third time, and a slot opened in its chest.  A weapon with a curved snout, like an old-fashioned blunderbuss, slid out and pointed toward Duran.

“How about
fuck you
,” the amplified voice said.  Now Duran could see the pilot’s face through a small plexiglass screen, lit from above by green light.  It was indeed little more than a kid at the controls, a dark-haired youth with a determined expression on his face.  “Drop the gun or you die, asshole.”

Duran glanced back at Knile.  He had no intention of putting the gun down.  In fact, he would rather die right here if it meant he got the chance to see Knile die first.

“I’m not here to kill you, Duran,” Knile said calmly, as if reading his thoughts.  “We were just on our way through to the transit system.  You let us go on our way and we’ll leave you unharmed.  We can both live to fight another day.”

“No,” Duran said bitterly.  His voice was hoarse, little more than a croak.  “I’m ready to end this right now, for both of us.”

“What about her?” Knile said, glancing down at Zoe.  “Your friend is still alive.”

“Bull
shit
,” Duran said.  “Like I’d believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”

Knile sighed.  “Yeah, okay.  Whatever.  That doesn’t change the fact that you’re missing the point.”

“Huh?”

“Look around you.  Children of Earth are up to something.  Did that somehow escape your notice?”

“So what if they are?”

“It looks like they’re headed for the Atrium, and I doubt they’re going to just wave placards when they get there.  They’re going to smash it to bits.  Someone has to stop them.”

Duran laughed derisively.  “That’s not going to be you, though, is it Knile?  You’re working
with
them.”

Knile scowled, perplexed.  “What are you talking about?”

“Those bastards from Children of Earth.  You’re on their side, aren’t you?”

Knile shook his head, bewildered.  “You’ve lost your mind, Duran.  I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You caused the blast in the Atrium three years ago.  You were there at the explosion on Fifty-Three.”  Duran gestured at the blaze.  “Now here you are again.  It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Duran.  You’re trying to arrange the pieces so they fit your idea of who I am, that’s all.”