Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Pursuit Page 24

  Loren's heart sank, because for all the options that rolled through his head, there was only one that seemed to fit the situation. "Does it involve a large explosion?"

  "It does." Echo gathered himself and continued. "The computer system will execute an emergency dump of all information if it detects certain types of tampering with various parts of the owner's collection, which is what I plan to do. Transfer of the information, of course, is what we're trying to avoid.

  “The home is self-powered using solar cells, batteries, a small fusion plant and a backup generator. Put them all into a loop, channel energy in the right place at the right time, and I can make the reactor overload, despite the safeties that would prevent it. But I'd need to go and manually open the valves at the power plant at the right time. They're not automated, for just such a reason." Echo paused, and even the supercomputer that was his brain had to search for the words he needed. "Someone has to die in order to make it happen."

  Loren nodded to himself. Damn his luck for always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe the right place at the wrong time; somebody else would be the judge of that someday.

  "Then I'll do it," Loren said firmly. "It's my people, my war. Tell me where to go."

  Echo only shook his head. "I thought you might try that as well, Mr. Stone. No, this is a job for me."

  "I thought you were neutral. Besides, you can die just like I can, right? No magical last-second uploads?"

  "Correct on all counts," Echo said softly. "For what it's worth, my kind needs to see you survive the day. We know you, trust you, and for lack of a more sentimental reason, want to maintain the stability of our relations with you. I will trigger the overload. Go get your friends and bring them down here; the loading docks are out the rear of this room."

  Loren stood there, unable to move. Everything made sense, at least in a vacuum. But when the decisions had to be made, when the results affected the real world, he didn't want to have to admit what would happen. So he stood there, for lack of a better thing to do, wishing there was another solution.

  "There is no other option, Loren," Echo continued. "You don't like the choices, you wish there were more, I understand. But your delaying action will eventually reduce our options to just one, in which we all must die. So go, and then get back here. There's one more thing I want to tell you before we part ways."

  "Problem?" Halley asked as she ran to meet Web at the security booth where Web was still hammering away at the controls.

  "You're not going to believe who's in there," Web said. He motioned Halley to look at the display.

  "Holy sheifah," she murmured.

  "They're all here," Web confirmed, scrolling through cells. He couldn't read much more of the data about the cell's occupants, but he knew the names. They were Senators, every last one other than Dennix, who had all been kidnapped by the Primans at the beginning of the war. The enemy's initial plan to throw the Confed government into chaos had entailed abducting the government itself in the hopes that the people wouldn't be able to function without the bureaucracy. In fact, it had only been marginally successful. That was, until Senator Dennix engineered his own rise to power. Between the deal-making and backroom agreements, he'd risen in the power vacuum that the Primans had created. While the Primans already had their hooks into him by that point, they'd had no greater hopes for him other than as a source for information or potential use as a sleeper agent. Only later had they made their own deal with him: they'd help him rise to control the Confederation in exchange for his subservience to them. And only the Primans knew that the deal was only good for as long as it suited them; sooner or later they'd come back and finish off Confed in their own good time.

  Now, things had just completely changed. The leaders of the Confederation, the duly elected leaders of the people, had been found. If they could be brought back to the Confederation, perhaps they could oust Dennix and his yes-men and get their homes back on track. Surely years in Priman captivity hadn't earned them any fans among the elected leaders.

  "We need to get them out of here," Web said urgently.

  "Yes," Halley agreed, "but how? We need to scram right this instant. We don't have a plan for hundreds of people, transport that can get us off-planet, or even a way to keep them together and not scatter the instant the doors open."

  "What are you saying?" Web asked in amazement. "We leave them?"

  "For now, yes," she stated simply. "Look, the Primans don't know we made it this far. Other than this guy you knocked out here, nobody knows what we've found. These folks are all safer here than if we try to half-ass a rescue right now. Best bet is we clear out and not let them in on what we know. Then we come back ASAP and break them all out with a team and a plan."

  "Dammit," Web said, but deep down he knew Halley was right. There was just no way they could get hundreds of people out of here, and they'd probably get a bunch of them killed if a half-baked rescue attempt was made.

  "So we drag this scumbag somewhere and hope he doesn't tell on us?"

  "Well, either we take him back to Confed space or we kill him," Halley said.

  "Alright," Web said with an air of resignation. "I'll carry him until he gets too heavy."

  Web hefted the man over his shoulder, then he and Halley trudged to the lift.

  "You got the data?" he asked.

  "Every last dirty bit," she confirmed.

  They exited the lift on the main floor and immediately discovered a problem; the building was on fire. At first, Web was caught completely off guard. Modern buildings don't catch fire. Sure, there might be an explosion, but between fire-resistant materials and suppression systems, fires shouldn't stay lit.

  "Is this more of your artwork?" Web asked Halley as he turned to survey the hall. The way they'd come was engulfed in flames, including Web noted with a certain regret, the storage closet where he'd tucked the guard Halley had knocked out.

  "No," she replied calmly as she took stock as well. "They must have made some modifications to the structure when they took the place over. Who knows?"

  The front entrance was off the list. She remembered from the schematics two other exits; one was a service exit, the other was a small motor pool/garage. She chose the garage.

  "This way," she commanded Web, and he followed her as fast as he could while carrying the dead weight of the Priman in a fireman's carry.

  They arrived at the entrance to the garage. "I'm not sure how big it really is, if it's guarded, full, empty, anything actually," Halley admitted in a rare case of her not knowing the situation fully. Web just nodded. "I'll go in and clear it. Give me ten seconds and then follow if you don't hear gunfire."

  Web shifted the Priman's weight as the man twitched. He hoped the guy wasn't coming around or he'd have to give him another beating to keep him quiet.

  Halley disappeared into the door, letting it slide shut behind her. Web counted, but only got to five before he heard the voices behind him.

  "Identify yourself!" he heard a woman's voice yell.

  "Local security," Web said commandingly as he slowly spun around to face his accusers. He might be able to talk his way out of this.

  "What have you done to him?" the woman asked again. She was Priman; tall, athletic and attractive in the way they all seemed to be. She had four more guards with her, all brandishing assault rifles of some sort.

  "I came in to report as liaison and saw him in the hallway, so I'm trying to get him out. Which way to the exits? The front of the building's on fire!" Web tried to look panicked, and if this woman delayed him too much longer, he wouldn't be acting any more; it would be real.

  The woman started to walk closer, then her face faltered.

  "He's a guard from the sublevels!" she yelled, and everyone brought their rifles up.

  "Intruder..." the man over Web's shoulder struggled to say in a strained, garbled voice. The woman's eyes went wide and she brought up her own blaster. Web reached for his own but fumbled for a split second. It was a
law enforcement style holster, meant to keep the weapon secure until it was very obviously grabbed and retrieved from its place. Web was used to the military style, which made for a much easier draw and was cut to allow the barrel to come up quickly as it was pulled out.

  The split second might have saved his life, though, as the guard over his shoulder made a grab for the blaster. He latched on to Web's hand and he staggered under the assault until finally the guard slid off his shoulder and onto the floor. Web punched him across the jaw to stun him, then ducked behind and used the Priman as a shield as his comrades opened fire. Their first shots went high where he'd been standing, then stitched down the wall to floor level. The guard tried to get up and away from Web, but that only caused him to stand up into the line of fire and catch a pair of blasts square in the chest.

  Web wasted no time in lunging for the doorway and smacking the release with his palm. He ducked through, spun around as he hit the close button on the garage side of the door, then tapped the button that commanded it to lock.

  "Problem!" he yelled to Halley, who he couldn't see in the dark, shadow-filled garage.

  Loren held his SSK up in a two-handed stance as the doors opened. He stood to the side towards the front of the house so that an errant blast wouldn't ricochet right into him by accident. After all that had happened, that would be about the most inglorious way to die.

  He heard rapid exchanges of blaster fire, both the familiar deep report of the SSK as well as the higher pitched squeal of Priman energy weapons.

  "Cory, Merritt," Loren called. "Ready to fall back."

  Since no blasts came towards him, he crouched low and risked a peek around the corner. He saw the main gallery and his comrades at the far end, both on the near side to him of a crossing hallway. A storm of blaster fire was coming left to right down the cross hall which led to the portico where they'd entered.

  He saw Cory's body language change at the sound of his voice, then she turned to look at him. He stood halfway out into the hall and leveled his blaster down the gallery to cover them. She slapped Merritt on the shoulder, then ran halfway down the hall to a doorway where she took cover. A second later, Merritt broke contact and ran as well, going past her to the next position, the lift Loren was standing in. He crouched low and readied his weapon while Cory turned to run.

  She was almost to the lift's door when the first Priman rounded the corner. Cory must have seen the look in Loren's eyes because she hit the ground, diving head first towards the door. Loren immediately pulled the trigger, sending an armor piercing round into the soldier's chest. He followed with a single-trigger-pull double tap (the most popular feature of the military version of the weapon) as the man staggered and fell, then put another half dozen rounds into the wall at the intersection to deter more Primans from dashing headlong around the bend.

  Cory scrambled into the lift, Loren and Merritt ducked in, and the doors closed.

  When the doors opened at the sub-level, they ran out but Loren immediately doubled back. He looked around for something to jam in the door, but the clean hallway was devoid of anything he could use. He wasn't wearing the standard infantry combat vest with its many pockets and tools, so he finally dropped the magazine of armor piercing rounds from his SSK. While it was still well over half full, it would be better used to stop their Priman pursuers. He shoved it in the door tracks and stepped back, then nodded in approval as the doors made a grinding sound and stopped their movement. A bell started to ring in the lift car, and Loren pronounced his handiwork to be good.

  "Let's go," he commanded as he slid his spare magazine into the sidearm. He took off at a jog for the storage area where Echo and the world-destroying weapon were waiting.

  As they burst into the room, they saw Echo tapping commands on a large display against the back wall of the space.

  "Loren, stay here so I can show you what I'm doing. The rest of you, please, head through those doors and find yourselves something to escape in. The owner has several spaceworthy ships to choose from."

  Loren nodded at Cory and Merritt, who took off through the doors and into the loading dock beyond.

  "Something you wanted to tell me?" Loren asked Echo. "Or maybe a way you don't have to die here?"

  "Sadly, no," Echo replied. "This is my role to fulfill. It will only take a minute to trigger the explosion, so the decision's made and your clock is ticking."

  "What if I don't let you?" Loren said. "What if I knock you out, shoot you in the leg?"

  Echo turned his head to look at Loren. "I can see your conviction, Loren, but I know you won't pull on me; I can see it in all your bio-signs."

  Loren seemed ready to say something, then just angrily shoved his SSK into his hip holster. "Apparently you can't bluff an AI."

  Echo studied Loren as the Confed man stood there with an air of defeat about him. "Are you doing alright?"

  "Funny you should ask me that," Loren said without humor. He considered for a minute his reply. "You know what, Echo? I feel tired. For the first time in my life, I feel old, like I've seen too much. That's not a good feeling."

  Echo smiled as he returned to his task. "It will pass as you experience brighter days, I assure you, even though you might doubt that at present." The AI looked Loren in the eyes as he continued.

  "I wanted to tell you something, Loren. You and a handful of Avenger's crew share a unique DNA sequence." He waited to see if Loren was paying attention, then carried on. "While all of the species in your part of the galaxy had Priman DNA inserted into your genomes, some of your DNA is integrated much differently. You wouldn't notice it unless you knew what to look for and compare it to, but it's there. Your Priman DNA is blended in the random and chaotic fashion that only comes from a natural, biological transfer."

  Loren's raised eyebrow and lack of a comeback encouraged Echo to continue. "Somewhere way back, more than a thousand years ago, you had an ancestor that was Priman. Yes, originally your people were altered with their DNA, but at a point after that, you had a forebear that joined with a Priman."

  "Wonderful," Loren said neutrally.

  "It's a perfectly understandable situation, really," Echo continued. "Just before the first Priman War, they were the biological equals of many species in your corner of the galaxy. They would have worked together, collaborated, why not married and had children?"

  "Great; so what does that make me?"

  "Absolutely nothing, Loren. You have neither superpowers nor a curse. It goes to the point that all of you and the Primans are closer and more compatible than you might be willing to admit."

  Loren just nodded. He saw what Echo was getting at; a long time ago, Primans and the various humanoids of his home probably did have relationships with each other, before the Primans went off on their unpopular tour of galactic conquest. Maybe someday Echo thought things could return to that state.

  "Well, if it's all the same to you, as of today I'm going to just imagine we trimmed those branches off the old family tree, ok?"

  "I understand," replied Echo with a smile. He finished his work at the big display and took a few steps over to Loren, extending his hand for Loren to shake, which he did. "It was a genuine pleasure getting to know you, Loren. I rarely get to know the humans I observe and work with. You've shown me many things."

  Loren shook firmly and waited for Echo to let go. He suffered from a rare case of not knowing what to say; he'd never met anyone quite like Echo, and doubted he ever would again.

  "Thank you," Loren said earnestly as Echo started to turn away.

  Echo nodded and walked to a door just a few steps away from the one to the loading dock, then stopped.

  "Loren," he began haltingly, "do you believe in an afterlife?"

  Loren was caught completely off guard by the question and stammered a bit before he could decide how to respond. "I like to think there is," he started. "I'm not sure what I really believe, though. So many religions, beliefs, ideals out there, but there's usually a common theme among them
all. Live your live well, be proud of what you do, and be ready to account for your actions when it's all over. I figure there's probably a higher power or plane out there, and when my days here are done hopefully I'll get a chance to explain what I've been up to. Why do you ask?"

  Echo's response was interrupted by a muffled crashing noise far down the hallway. They both knew what it was: the Primans had finally climbed down to this level, despite the lift being unable to move up to get them.

  "Do you think my consciousness, my soul as you'd call it, will survive? I know I'm a machine, of course, but do you think a soul is a strictly biological right? Might I somehow live on?"

  "Now that, my friend," Loren admitted, "is a question for the ages. If it's really about awareness, having a soul as we’d call it, then I'd say you have a good shot."

  "That's a good hope to cling to," Echo said solemnly. "I just don't want to disappear forever when I die. Black, nothing, poof, I'm gone and won't even know it because everything about me will be powered down."

  "You won't be gone, Echo," Loren assured him. "Your people and now me will remember you. Folks will talk about what you accomplished; I'll make sure of that. And for what it's worth, if there's an afterlife and they let me in one day which will hopefully be many years from now, I'll look you up. Sound good?"

  "Thank you," Echo replied, then pressed his lips together in determination and disappeared through the door and into the dark room beyond.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Web only had to wait a split second before he saw Halley's shape emerge from the shadows near the entrance to the garage.

  "What magnitude of problem are we talking about?" she asked in a businesslike manner, "Because I have one in here as well. All these vehicles are Priman military and have some sort of lockout on them. I have no idea where to begin with getting one unlocked and running."