The Darwin Elevator (49 page)

The reason eluded him. He had done nothing to fix the damn thing. He’d made a sloppy mess of it, if anything. Given the alien device the most cursory of inspections, and left behind a subhuman like an offering.

No point in dwelling on it now, he decided. Whatever the cause, the power had stabilized, and that meant a quicker trip to orbit, which was all that mattered. Whether he could take credit or not, the conclusion lifted his spirits a little.

He followed the wall around to the eastern gate, which had long ago been sealed. No cheering crowds here, just the daily market set up in the shadow of the wall. Skyler himself had bought and sold goods here—surplus items from speculative missions outside the city, traded for necessities produced within. The market was near empty today, due to the bountiful containers lying open in Ryland Square.

Blackfield’s War
. Skyler shook his head. The offer Neil Platz had made seemed nothing short of paranoid when Skyler heard it. Not anymore.

His stomach grumbled as his path along the wall reached the northern side, by the ocean.
Time to find the mess hall,
he thought. Food with a side of eavesdropping.

It proved easy enough to locate. Every guard not on duty congregated at the large building, once a warehouse by the look of it.

Skyler grabbed a tray of offered food—a variety of vegetables along with hummus and seedy crackers. The seating consisted of a series of benches, arranged in rows and spanning the gamut in terms of age and condition.

The usual cliques of such a place were nowhere to be seen. Skyler guessed this was because all the experienced soldiers had gone to orbit. Instead everyone sat together near the southern wall.

One man sat slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, and Skyler recognized him: the one who’d snuck him the memory chip full of Orbital requests. Prumble’s “man inside,” Kip.

Skyler took a chance and approached the man.

“Okay if I sit?”

Kip glanced up from his food, which he pushed around a tin plate with a fork. “God, don’t you blokes ever give up?”

“Thanks,” Skyler said, plopping his tray on the table and taking a spot on the bench. “My feet are killing me. Killing me! Patrolling the walls all morning.”

“Good for you,” the man said. He continued to push his meal around the dented metal plate, turning it to mush.

“What do you do here?”

He shot an annoyed glance at Skyler. Then he gathered himself and looked back at his plate. “The go-list is based on seniority, so you’re wasting your time. I can’t help you.”

“Go-list? I’m just making friendly—”

Kip’s fork stopped. “Right, right. I get put in charge of Orbital duty and suddenly everyone wants to be my chum. Bullocks.”

“I’m new here,” Skyler said.

“No shit.”

“Any news from up top?”

The man dropped his fork and focused on Skyler. “I’m not in the mood, if you don’t mind.”

Skyler spread his hands and took to eating his tasteless food. After a few bites in silence, he rolled the dice. “Prumble sends his regards.”

As Skyler hoped, Kip’s head snapped up. “You know him?”

With a casual nod, Skyler said, “I know you, too, as a matter of fact.”

Kip glanced around. The color had flushed from his face. “Who the hell are you?” he whispered.

Skyler pushed the plate of horrid food aside and stared at Kip.

“Ah, yes,” Kip said, nodding. “The immune. Skyler, was it? I’ll be damned.”

“Call for the guards and I’ll kill you before they get here,” Skyler said.

Kip sat frozen for a few seconds, then shrugged and went back to drawing hummus patterns. “What is it you want?”

Skyler smiled. “Simple. Add the name Nera to your go-list, and forget you ever saw me.”

“Or … what? You’ll rat me out to Blackfield? I’m nothing now. Not without Prumble. Without you, frankly. Just a cog in this damnable machine.”

“Look,” Skyler said, “I’ve lost everything, too. My ship, my crew, the business Prumble brought me from you. The whole chain is shattered, and we’re both screwed.” He lowered his voice, drawing Kip closer. “All I can tell you is I
must
get to orbit. My crew was captured there, and I have to find them. I owe them that.”

Kip’s fork froze. He didn’t look up.

“You’re not nothing, Kip,” Skyler added. “You’re the man who can get me to orbit.”

Kip fell silent. For a long time he stared at the crowd of Nightcliff guards who huddled in the corner of the mess hall. They were brash and boisterous. Making lewd jokes and laughing at one another.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kip said. Then he stood and wandered from the room, his unfinished meal forgotten.

At four o’clock Skyler made his way to the cargo yard and asked where he was supposed to go for boarding. A worker gave him terse directions.

About twenty other guards, all trying to act like a ride to orbit was no big deal to them, mingled around the climber base station. Skyler stood at the edge of the pack, his maroon helmet worn low.

The chaotic situation in orbit, and the complex operation to move troops and supplies up the Elevator, made it easier than he could have hoped to blend in. In situations like that, details were missed. Things fell through the cracks.

Disguises served their purpose.

The climber car dropped into place an hour later. Skyler waited until the others had lined up before joining the queue himself. He gave the name Nera to the woman with the clipboard and was waved through without even a cursory glance.

Chapter Forty-two

Anchor Station

14.FEB.2283

At the stroke of midnight, Tania’s terminal rebooted. The screen flickered through the start-up procedure, casting her small cabin in a sudden blue-green glow.

She’d been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking. In the sudden illumination, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed.

Russell Blackfield had placed her under house arrest shortly after arriving. Whatever plan he’d had to interrogate her abruptly changed after the first question he’d asked.

“Tell me about the research you’ve been doing for Neil Platz,” he’d said.

“No,” she’d replied.

Then Natalie had chimed in. Her voice so calm and collected that Tania had gone numb. “I’ll tell you,” Natalie had said. “I’ve been doing most of the work anyway.”

A huge grin had spread across Russell’s face. He’d instructed a pair of guards to lock Tania in her quarters until further notice. She’d been too shocked to fight them, or say anything. She could only stare at Natalie, baffled, trying to find some glimmer of explanation for her betrayal. But Natalie, her assistant and friend, would not meet her gaze. Instead she focused completely on Russell Blackfield, looking every bit the eager helper.

Tania had not been allowed to see anyone. She’d tried her computer the moment they’d closed her door, only to find it locked in station-wide “maintenance mode.” The distinct beep of the reboot marked the first change in her monotonous imprisonment.

Then she heard another sound. One that made her jump.

The door unlocked.

She stared at the handle, waiting for someone to enter, wondering if she should turn off the computer or pretend to be asleep. The door remained closed.

Confused, she went to it and opened it a crack. Outside, the hallway was dark and quiet. She left the door open slightly, worried that the lock would reengage if she closed it, and went to her terminal.

Instead of the usual passphrase prompt it displayed her messages. One was new, from Neil Platz, sent eighteen hours ago.

With a rush of hope she opened it and read,
“I
’
m
dead or captured—here’s what you must do …”

That hope gave way to agony at Neil’s stark, abrupt words in the second half of the message.

Neil had triggered a fail-safe program, inserted into the stations’ systems months ago. The door locks had been disabled, the security systems reverted to month-old backups.

She wanted to mourn, wanted to beat her fists against the wall at the madness of all this. She knew Neil would never let himself be captured. He had too much pride. He was gone and she couldn’t even be there at his side. Just like when her father passed.

But Neil’s amazing knack for thinking ahead gave her a sudden glimmer of confidence. The words that followed replaced her agony with an anxiety like none she’d ever known. Neil’s plan, as crazy and bold as the man himself, left her breathless.

Tania read it twice, fighting tears all the while. For a moment she sat in plain awe of Neil’s ability for forethought. The few simple sentences implied months, even years, of devious planning.

She memorized the instructions. Then she deleted the message and reset the terminal.

In the hall outside, people were emerging from their rooms. She took a moment to calm herself, put on a face she hoped showed courage, and walked out into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” a neighbor asked. “Why did the doors unlock?”

“I’m not sure,” Tania replied. “Stay in your room. I’m going to check.”

She moved at a brisk pace to Natalie’s cabin and found it empty.

Flashes of her imprisonment in Nightcliff forced their way into her mind. She shuddered to think what might be happening to Nat. The poor girl had no idea what Blackfield and his thugs were capable of, regardless of her offer to help them. Yet Neil’s message held a deeper grip on Tania’s mind. Natalie would have to wait.

Tania headed for the observation lounge.

At one point she heard approaching soldiers, sprinting along the main hallway. She ducked into the closest cabin, pushed the door shut, and waited.

In the cramped room, a man and a woman were embraced, partially undressed, and looking at her with wide eyes. Tania recognized one of them as a low-level researcher.

“The doors opened,” he said, mumbling in fear. “We hadn’t seen each other—”

“Quiet,” Tania said, too tersely. The man swallowed back the rest of his explanation. Tania faced the door and leaned against it. She pressed her ear to the surface and listened as the soldiers ran by. When their footsteps receded, she nodded to the amorous couple and stepped back into the hall.

The guards were headed for her room, she had no doubt of that. No time to waste, then. Tania sprinted the rest of the way.

Starlight spilling in from the giant windows provided the only light in the observation lounge. Despite everything happening around her, the view of the shell ship, and Earth beyond, still took Tania’s breath away.

She shook off the feeling and went to the bench. Memories of a hundred idle conversations with the old man fought for her attention. “Your parents would be so proud of you,” he had said so often, the only praise she’d ever received that mattered.

Kneeling by the bench, she looked underneath the plush cushion. In the dark she saw nothing but shadow. She reached her hand below and ran it across the cool plastic support surface. Her fingers brushed something. Paper. An envelope, glued to prevent it from falling. Try as she might, should could not pull it away, but then her fingers found a flap along one edge. She pried it open and used her nails to pinch the bundle of papers inside. They were tightly packed, but after a struggle they came free.

The overhead lights came back on. All along the curved hallway she heard the
snap snap
of doors locking. She felt glad she’d left her own door ajar. If it remained that way, she could sneak back in.

Tania stuffed the folded papers under her shirt and walked briskly to a nearby restroom. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she tried the door and found it open. It was bright in the white-tiled room, enough to make her squint. Tania moved to the stall at the very end of the row, closed the door behind her, and sat on the water tank above the toilet, using the seat as a footrest.

Only then did she remove the papers and read them.

The information there was at once terrifying and exhilarating.

In the morning, three guards entered Tania’s room without a knock. She sat bolt upright, pulling the blanket up to cover herself.

“Get dressed,” the largest one said. “Blackfield wants to see you.” They stood in place, waiting for an answer.

“Where’s my assistant? Natalie Amm—”

“Get dressed, now.”

She gripped the blanket until her knuckles turned white. “Mind waiting outside?”

The words lingered as the man in the center merely grinned. “He said not to lay a finger on you, but didn’t say nothing about watching.” One of his friends kicked the door closed and the three stood and waited.

She let the blanket fall as she stood up, determined not to let them see weakness in her. The soldiers were openly disappointed to see she was wearing a tank top and running shorts, but still their eyes stayed glued to her as she stepped into a jumpsuit.

“They don’t make ’em like you down in Darwin,” one of the guards said. Another laughed. She did her best to ignore them, cursing her hands for shaking.

He said not to lay a finger on you
. Tania considered the deeper implications. Blackfield wanted her for himself. Or he still needed something from her. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice wondered if she could use her body as a weapon. She hated herself for even thinking it.

She’d rather die.

Tania wiggled into the garment and zipped it up. “Let’s go.”

The tall one led the way, striding along the corridor like he owned the place, near enough to the truth. They passed only a few other researchers, each under guarded escort. Tania did everything she could to mask the embarrassment she felt. She’d become something of a leader after the mutiny, and had been wholly unprepared for the counterattack. She had let them down, and she doubted the guards had orders not to lay hands on anyone else.

She’d heard nothing from her fellow mutineers since Blackfield and his troops had arrived. They’d either fought back and failed, or melted away.

“In there,” the thug in the lead said.

Tania had been lost in thought. They stood in front of the conference room on Black Level. The three guards took positions on both sides of the door, leaving Tania to open it for herself. She turned the handle and stepped inside.