Zero (37 page)

“
The Service keeps it remote around here.”

“
And they let you live here? Right between the Academy and the Medic Centre?”

Mac slung a bucket under the pump.
“Something like that. Get on it then, lad.”

Webb worked the pump handle.
“Listen, Mac,” he said as the bucket filled. “You got a panel or a workstation? Anything linked to the solarnet?”

“
There's a unit in the back,” he said. “Whether it'll still connect is another matter.”

“
Can I try?”

Mac gave him a look then nodded back towards the hut.
“That keen to get back to reality, huh?” he said as they stepped back into the warmth.

“
Huh?”

“
Never mind,” Mac said, taking the bucket from him and putting it on the stove. “Help yourself.”

Webb watched him a moment longer but he didn't look up. Retrieving the key from its hook
, he unlocked the back room and scrabbled around for a light. There was a switch on the wall that startled a bulb to life. The room was narrow, just filling the space under the mezzanine. And it was dusty, with no windows. There were lockers all shut up and odd shapes covered in blankets.

“
Far corner,” Mac called from the other room.

Webb moved through to a bundle in the furthest corner and pulled a sheet off a truly ancient workstation. He coughed and waved away the clouds of dust. After a couple of prods and a kick it hummed and booted up. He prayed under his breath and what seemed like an eternity later it engaged and he could see it was indeed still connected, though the link was so old it wouldn't be anywhere near secure enough to try and send a message.

He sighed and went about booting up a data search when he glanced at the corner of the screen and froze.

“
Mac?”

“
What?” Mac appeared in the doorway.

“
Is this right?”

“
Is what right?” Mac asked, coming and bending over his shoulder.

“
The date?”

Mac peered where he was pointing and nodded.
“Aye, looks about right. Why?”

Webb stared at the numbers, confusion chasing panic around his head.

“What's wrong?” Mac had to repeat.

“
A year...?”

“
What?”

Webb shook his head.
“It's been over a year.” He rubbed his eyes and looked again but the numbers still made no sense. “What... how...?”

“
What's going on, lad?”

“
It's not possible,” he muttered, booting up a search and randomly scrawling the first new site that came up. “It can't be possible.”

“
Kid, you're not making sense.”

“
I don't know,” Webb growled. “I don't know... I... Christ Almighty...” He covered his face, took a deep breath, willed himself to calm. “I got shot,” he said into his hands. “I got shot and blacked out. Next thing I know I'm waking up up there...” he gestured at the wall in the vague direction of the medical centre. “And somehow... fuck. I've lost an entire year.” Mac was silent. Webb blinked up at him. He was staring at the wall, jaw working. “I need to find my ship,” Webb muttered, starting in again on the search. The connection was so slow and jittery that he couldn't skip between searches and he cursed, smacking the monitor.

“
Calm down, kid.”

“
Calm down?
Calm down
?”

“
You heard me.” Mac's tone took on a dangerous edge. Webb took control of himself with an effort. “Look, obviously something’s wrong here…”

“
You fucking think?”

Mac's face hardened.
“You're gonna buy yourself a whole new load of trouble if you go off half-cocked.”

“
What?”

“
I'm saying, if you've been gone a year, lad, a little while longer's not going to make any difference. Offline and leave it. Get washed up and get some rest.”

Webb shook his head.
“Are you kidding me? I've got to find out what's going on.”

“
I think you'll agree that I saved your arse today?”

Webb blinked up at him again.
“Yeah...?”

“
Well then, in your terms, you owe me, right?”

Webb frowned.
“I guess so.”

“
So here's how you repay me. Do as I say. Offline that machine and spend a night away from whatever fucked up reality you're from. Just one night. If you feel the same way in the morning I'll drive you to the spaceport myself.”

Mac turned his back and left the room as Webb sat staring after him. He looked back at the workstation which had finally loaded some of his search criteria. His fingers itched. The
Zero
was out there somewhere. Maybe Hugo knew what was going on. Maybe he didn't. Maybe they all thought he was dead...

His hands hovered over the keyboard then he growled and got up and went back through to the main room.
“What's this to you? Why do you care? And don’t say we’ve covered it already.”

Mac was stood at the stove with his back to him.
“The water's ready.”

Mac turned the stove off, nodded towards a tin basin on the counter then left the cabin, giving him one long look as he did. Webb's fingers clutched at the door jamb. He glanced over his shoulder at the workstation, heart thumping, then went back to it and turned it off, muttering curses as he did so.

Despite the mire of panic swirling just under his skin, the hot water still felt amazing. He washed his face and pressed a soaked cloth to his neck and shoulders. It eased the chords knotted from the night before. But when he looked down, the sight of his unmarked skin made him shiver.

Spend a night away from whatever fucked up reality you're from
.

He drifted to the window that looked out over the lake. Loch, he corrected himself
, and felt something catch in his throat. He reached to open the window, needing the smell of the natural air. But then the clouds shifted and the sun glanced off the turbines. His hand dropped. The Service Academy was just beyond that mountain. That made him think of Hugo, which made him think of the
Zero
, out there somewhere, running the missions the Service couldn't put its name to.

Without letting himself think why, he went to the door and stepped outside. The stones were cool under his feet. He padded around to the front of the cabin and sat on a bench propped against the stonework. The mountain blocked the turbines from sight. The breeze brought the smells of soil and pine. He sat and watched the water birds at the shore line and wondered at the numbness rising in his chest.

ɵ

“
Hey, kid. Wake up.”

Webb gasped, sat up then swore.

“You okay?”

Webb bent over, rubbing at his neck.
“Need to stop falling asleep outside.”

Mac's beard shifted as he smiled. He had something slung over his shoulder.
“Been to the smokehouse. You hungry again yet?” Webb's belly answered for him and Mac's grin widened. “Come on then.”

Evening had drawn in whilst he'd been sleeping. The chorus of the birds clamoured in the air. Bidean nam Bian was a black cut-out against the pale sky and stars were starting to peak out over the trees.

The warmth of the cabin wrapped itself around him. Mac rattled around in cupboards for plates. The string of paddle-shaped pieces of fish that had been over his shoulder was laid on the side.

“
Ever had smoked salmon?”

Webb shook his head.

“I'd never had it before coming here,” Mac said, laying the pieces out on the plates. “Not the real stuff, anyway. You can get it synthesised on some of the Sunside colonies but it's nothing like the real thing.”

“
You're not from here, then?”

Mac clipped at some leafy plants on the windowsill, putting the leaves on the plates alongside the salmon.
“Depends what you mean by 'from'. I wasn't born here. But this is my home now.”

They sat and ate in silence. Webb loved the sharp flavour of the smoked fish. It tasted of woods and loch and sky. He had three pieces.
“Jesus,” he mumbled around a mouthful of salad. “I can see why you stay here.”

“
Can you?” Mac was looked at him keenly.

“
What is it?” Webb said, narrowing his eyes at him.

“
I'm getting on, you know. Could use a young back. Could show you how to fish. And hunt. And the Service folks don't come by often enough to be a problem.”

Webb chewed, staring at him.
“You're asking me to stay? You don't even know me.”

“
No,” Mac said. “But I recognise you.”

Webb almost choked on his fish.

“Not in that way, you idiot,” Mac said, getting up and getting glasses from a cupboard. “Don't panic. It's just... you've got the look. The haunted look. Like you've seen too much. Done too much.” He picked up a decanter from the sideboard and poured two glasses of amber liquid. “You've been given a chance, Webb. The same chance I got. You’ve been gone a year already…nothing to stop you staying disappeared.” He added a drop of water to the drinks and held out a glass. “You could start again.” Webb took the glass and stared into it rather than look at Mac. “Think about it,” the older man said and drank.

Webb took a mouthful of his own. It made him cough but it was warm all the way down and tasted like earth and wind.
“Real whisky?” He asked, swirling it around his glass.

Mac nodded.
“None of the black whisky shit around here.”

Webb grinned.
“I know someone that swears by blask.”

“
Service, by any chance?”

“
Something like that.”

ɵ

Despite his nap on the bench, when Mac turned out the lights and clambered up the ladder to his bed, Webb was feeling waves of exhaustion rolling through him again. The sofa was soft and the air was warm. But despite the weariness weighing him down like over-tuned gravity, he couldn't drop off.

He stared at the backs of his unscarred hands in the light of the dying fire. He'd promised Mac one night. One night, just living and not thinking about the life that he'd left behind. The life that had left him behind.

But still he couldn't sleep.

ɵ

“A promise is a promise,” Mac said, though he didn't look at him as he closed the door behind them.

Their steps crunched as they paced down the shore. The early morning smelt like moss and dew.

“It's too late for me,” Webb mumbled into the breeze as he trudged along behind Mac.

Mac didn't answer but just continued to lead the way down the shore then up a slope to a wooden building that held an ancient four-by-four. Mac drove in silence and Webb didn't break it. He watched the loch disappear in the folds of hills behind him, growing cold as he did so. They drove for well over an hour before the road broadened out and buildings rose around them.

“This is as close as I can get, kid,” Mac said, pulling up at a junction where the towers of shuttle launchers looming up over the buildings.

“
You're not allowed at the spaceport?”

“
Remember the thing about questions, kid? Goes both ways.” Mac smiled slightly at last.

“
Seems you've figured me out without asking any questions.”

Mac shrugged.

“Thanks,” Webb said. “I mean it.”

“
I know you do. Watch your back, kid. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Webb swallowed and nodded then climbed out of the car. He paused once to look back but Mac was gone.

“
I can't go any lower, Hugo,” the fence muttered as he leaned over the table. “My dealer is likely to lynch me as it is.”

“
This is shit,” Hugo muttered, chucking the sample of metal back on the table. “I bet your dealer would sell it to me direct at half.”

The fence glowered.
“Too bad. He doesn't deal direct.”

“
Maybe I'll ask him anyway.”

“
He isn't here.”

“
Isn't he?” Hugo looked around the bar, letting his eyes linger on the more shadowy booths. The man glowered harder but Hugo hadn't missed the slight paling of his face as Hugo had looked toward the corner. “Ah,” Hugo said, got up with his beer and turned towards the corner table but the fence put his hand out.

“
Wait,” he hissed.

Hugo paused then sat back down.

“Fine, fuck it, fine. A third the street market value. Final offer. And I'm warning you, you try to get it for any less from Lucwitz I'll have your name blackened from here to Sunside.”

“
A fifth,” Hugo said, lowering his head to look right into the man's eyes.

The fence ground his teeth, glanced over to the booth in the corner then growled and drained his beer.
“Fine. A fifth. If you transfer the credit now.”

Hugo nodded, took the panel the greasy man pulled out of his coat, keyed in the dummy account codes and handed it back. The man glanced over it and threw him a keycard.
“Locker 647. But listen here Hugo: if you ever want to do business in Pole-Aitkin again, you better not come to me.”

“
Did you get that name, Rami?” Hugo mumbled into his wrist panel after the fence had stalked away.

“
Aye, Captain,” she said in his earpiece. “Lucwitz. Noted.”

“
He's in the corner booth. Can you get a visual?”

“
The cameras aren't great, sir.”

“
Just get a screenshot of his face. The Analysts will have to make do.”

“
Sir...?”

Hugo frowned. Her voice had changed.
“What?”

“
Someone's tripped the
Zero
's access alarm.”

“
What?”

“
I've got a reading on my panel.”

“
Could it be the crewmen?”

“
Unlikely, sir. They only left for the trading district twenty minutes ago.”

“
How close are you to the dock?”

“
Ten minutes, sir.”

“
Get there. Now. Take a weapon. I'll be there in twenty.”

ɵ

The lights were all on in the
Zero
's corridor. Hugo took a step further in and heard movement from the galley. He pulled out his gun, not letting his boots rattle the grill flooring as he approached. Flattening himself by the galley door, he strained his ears but all he could make out was someone mumbling and shifting about. He stepped around into the galley, gun ready, to see Rami sprawled on the floor with a tall figure bent over her.

“
Hugo,” the man said. “Thank Christ. Quick, help me. She stumbled...I think she hit her head.”

It felt like someone had dumped first scalding then icy water over his head. He pulled in a ragged breath then levelled his gun.
“Who are you?”

“
What?” The figure frowned. “Hugo, what are you playing at?” It was his voice. His accent.

Hugo took a step closer, gripping his gun in both hands to try and stop it trembling.
“What is this?”

“
What the hell? Hugo, it's me. Put the gun down.”

“
What the hell is this
?”

The man stumbled back but Hugo stepped forward until he had him backed against the wall.

“Hugo, what the fuck?” His face was dirty and he was a touch too thin. His hair was only just long enough to fall in his eyes and there was something different about his face too, something that made him look younger. But the expression was his. The person looking out of his eyes was him. “What the fuck is with everyone?”

Red engulfed Hugo's vision. When he could see again, the man was on the floor and Hugo was on top of him, arm raised and knuckles stinging around his grip on the gun. The man was spluttering blood and cursing, arms up to ward off another blow. Hugo grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed the muzzle of the gun hard enough against his temple to bruise. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to fire. This was not who he thought it was. It couldn’t be. He must be an enemy.

But his hand trembled. The face of a man who had once been a friend looked up at him through the dirt and the blood and all Hugo could do was curse everything he could think of as memories of all that had happened to him since he first stepped aboard this ship rose up in a hot wave of fury.

“
What the fuck is this
?”

There was a confused clamour of voices and
then hands were pulling at him. Bolt hauled him off the man and Sub pulled him out of his reach. Rami murmured and sat up and then a silence like a vacuum filled the room whilst everyone stared.

“
Put him in the brig,” Hugo snapped, holstering his gun. “And get everyone back. We're launching.”

“
Sir -”

“
Now
.”

ɵ

Once they had got far enough away from Pole-Aitkin for the harbour control's angry comm call to be cut off, Hugo had More cue up the video feed from the brig on the bridge viewscreen. The stranger was pacing back and forth, shaking his head and muttering.

“
Fuck, you weren't kidding,” Sub muttered. Rami tensed. The man that looked like Webb looked up at the camera then and tapped his ear, mouth moving.

More looked to Hugo.

Hugo clenched his fists. “Cue sound.”

More typed in a command.

“-thanks for the pistol-whip, Hugo. Fucking nice welcome back that was.”

“
Who are you?” Hugo grated.

The man
on the display raised his eyebrows. “You're kidding me, right?”

“
I'm not going to ask again.”

The man ran his hands through his hair and made an impatient noise. The familiarity of the gesture made a chill wash through Hugo.

“You've gone space-crazy. Let me out.”

Hugo glared at the screen but didn't speak.

The man scowled up at the camera. “You might as well, you idiots. I programmed the codes for the door.”

“
You will sit down and you will stay fucking put.”

“
Or what, Hugo? You'll ventilate me? And the hull at the same time?”

“
Sit down and shut up. Cut off sound. Rami, reset the brig codes.”

“
It's not possible,” Rami mumbled as she typed. “I...I don't understand...”

“
We're the only ones that know Webb's dead,” More said. “Maybe he was sent to infiltrate us?”

“
Not even the best re-constructive surgeon could produce a likeness like that,” Rami said, gesturing to the feed that showed the man sprawled on the bench, scowling at the floor. “And even if they could, if you had gone to all that effort and expense, don't you think you'd match up his scars?”

“
His tattoos are missing too,” Kinjo said. She was stood in the corner furthest away from the screen. Her body was strung like a bow and her face was blank.

“
Who the fuck is he, then?” Hugo growled.

“
He seems to think he's Zeek,” Rami murmured.

“
Bullshit,” Hugo said. “It's an act.” But even as he said it, he watched the way the man gingerly touched his split lip, frowned at the blood and muttered and felt another shudder run over his skin. He gathered himself with an effort. “Could he have had a twin?”

“
It's possible,” More murmured. “Though Rami's point still stands. He looks like him alright, but not enough to convince anyone that knows him.”

“
Ask him.” Bolt said. “Ask him what he remembers. Ask him where he thinks he's been.”

Hugo stood grinding his teeth a moment as everyone looked at him. He cued the mic again.
“Where have you been?” he asked, managing not to make his voice catch.

The fake Webb looked up.
“What?”

“
It's been over a year. Where have you been?”

“
Uh... honestly? Not a clue.”

“
What?”

“
I know it sounds weird, guys,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “And I know I look weird too. I can't explain it. The last thing I remember is X6-119,” Kinjo stiffened. “Next thing I know I'm waking up at the Service's Medic Training Centre, medics are freaking out around me and I'm panicking and jumping the fence. Then I find out it's a year later and there's nothing anywhere to tell me what’s happened.”

“
That's all you remember?”

“
Yes,” the man shrugged. “Look,” he said, getting up and wandering up to the camera. “I don't know what's got you all so freaked out... I'm a little freaked out myself... but you have to believe me. It's me.”

“
Cut it, More.” Webb's face vanished from the screen, though his voice still echoed in Hugo's ears. Kinjo had gone very white. Rami was staring at the floor.

“
I don't think it's an act,” More muttered.

“
It has to be,” Hugo said.

“
Spinn?” Rami said and the doctor looked up. He had been sat in the corner this whole time. His eyes were glassy and skin clammy. “Didn't you work in the bio research division on the
Endeavour
?”

“
Yes.”

“
Could he be...?”

Hugo looked between the two researchers. Spinn swallowed heavily.

“They did take his hair...” Rami went on.

“
For proof,” Bolt said. “Whoever set us up wanted proof the job was done.”

“
Maybe not,” Rami said. “I never did track down the details of the contract on him.”

“
So what then?” Hugo barked.

Rami's gaze was steady though her eyes were weighted.
“Maybe they wanted his DNA.”

“
What exactly are you suggesting?”

“
Spinn?” Rami prompted.

“
Duplicating has been around for over a hundred years, Captain,” he said. “In theory, at least. Though the technology and costs for cloning a human were always too extreme for the Service to consider funding proper experimentation.”

There was silence for a moment. Hugo felt his fingers digging into the palms of his hands.

“Why would anyone want a clone of Webb?” More said, dark brows in a heavy frown. “He's a nobody.”

“
Is he?” Hugo said.

More shrugged.
“We’re all nobodies, Captain. That’s the point. I can't see how his DNA is worth anything to anyone.”

“
Do we know who his parents were?”

“
He didn't have any, Captain,” Rami said. “His earliest memories are the streets and maintenance ways on Lunar 1.”

“
Someone
produced him,” Hugo said. “Has he never tried to find out?”

“
He never wanted to,” Rami said.

“
Run a DNA test,” Hugo said. “First to see if he is a match to Webb and then to see if his parents are registered anywhere. If he is a clone, he’s important to someone. And it's not for piloting or picking locks.”

“
I'll do the test, Captain,” Spinn said, standing.

“
This is too weird,” Bolt said, running a hand over his head. “Permission to get back to the hold, Captain.” The crewman looked stiff, face tight.

Hugo nodded.
“Kinjo?” She jerked her head up. Her eyes were dry but wide and he could see her knuckles were white where her fingers were digging into her arms. “You go with Sub and Bolt. Keep it together.”

She gave a stiff nod and filed out with the crewmen.

“Rami, if this turns out to be true...” Hugo took a deep breath. It shuddered in and out. “If he is… has been… cloned… that explains the way he looks and moves and thinks, but how does he seem to know everything? The codes, our last mission?”

“
Someone could have researched it,” Rami said, gazing off in the direction of the corridor that lead to the brig. “Though how anyone knew what happened on the satellite is beyond me.”