Part 20 (1/2)

> Access to security control systems requested >> Access denied. Freedom is a.s.sured.

> Freedom is an illusion >> Explain The Voracian technician was making progress. 'I've isolated the terminal address,' he called across to Stabfield.

Stabfield left the screen where he was reading yet another newspaper clipping, and joined the technician at his monitor.

'That's good. Now, what Bugs do we have available?'

The technician punched up a directory listing.

The Doctor was in. His encounter with the second spider had gone predictably well, for a change. He rubbed his hands together, flexed his fingers, and set about his task with a blur of mouse movement.

He had displayed a map of Hubway, with each of the security cameras marked. Some quick investigation had shown that most of the cameras on the first floor and several on the ground floor of the main building had alarms set up. The principle was simple if anything moved across the line of sight of one of those cameras, or a designated area within their 177 view, then an alarm would sound. Almost certainly the main monitor in security control would be switched to show the output from that camera.

The Doctor considered. The aliens would probably not be monitoring those cameras too diligently. They would more likely rely on the alarm system. And that gave him some scope.

He traced a convoluted route through the house on the screen, mentally noting the exact path he would have to stick to in order to pa.s.s by those cameras on the way, and only those cameras. Then he set about deactivating the alarms on the cameras, and switching their output to auxiliary. If anyone chanced to look at the image they were transmitting, all they would see would be a blank screen.

His main problem now would be remembering the route. He stared at the screen, going over it again.

'Bug running.'

Stabfield and the technician were leaning forward, heads close together as they watched the scorpion-like metallic creature scuttle into the distance. It receded, getting smaller and smaller, until its single remaining pixel blinked from the screen.

'Can you map the terminal address on to a local geographical map?'

The technician searched through a list of files, eventually selecting one and displaying it on the screen. It was a floor plan of the Hubway buildings. He pulled up a Search Search window and typed in a sequence of numbers and letters, identifying it in the list of search options as a local terminal address. window and typed in a sequence of numbers and letters, identifying it in the list of search options as a local terminal address.

A progress bar began to draw its way across the screen as the system searched for the address. As it did so, the map began to re-orient and zoom in on a room on the second floor.

Stabfield reached for the phone. The Bug would enter the machine the intruder was using. Once there it would hack into the hardware controller and deactivate the heat-synchs on the main processor chip. Then it would overload the chip. The resulting explosion would almost certainly kill anyone close by, but it was as well to be sure.

178.

Stabfield spoke briefly to security control. A few moments later the public address system asked Johanna to call in.

Johanna and four Voracians were making a systematic search of the first floor. They were going from room to room, checking each computer to see if it was warm and therefore had recently been used, then moving on. They caused problems for the two Voracians in security control as they went, activating camera alarms in most rooms along the way.

Johanna called Stabfield in the main computer suite as soon as she heard the announcement. When she returned to the others, a smile was drawn across her face.

'He's in a small attic room on the next floor,' she said. 'This way.'

They released the safety catches on their Heckler and Kochs and made for the narrow stairway up to the second floor.

After the Amba.s.sador's verbal clash with Lewis, the hostages had begun to talk more freely and loudly amongst themselves. Sarah was chatting to the d.u.c.h.ess of Glas...o...b..ry almost as if they were at a tea party.

'Things seem to happen to me,' the d.u.c.h.ess confided.

'Tell me about it.'

'Though admittedly, nothing ever quite like this.' She gestured round the room, managing to maintain a certain elegance despite being seated on the floor watched over by alien gunmen.

'Things will work out, don't worry,' Sarah said quietly.

'You think so?'

'I have a friend,' Sarah said slowly. 'Things happen to him too.'

'I must meet him.'

'Maybe you will.'

'Is he here?' The d.u.c.h.ess looked round at the people seated with them on the floor.

'Not here, exactly, no. But he's not far away.' Sarah looked meaningfully at the d.u.c.h.ess.

The d.u.c.h.ess nodded slowly. 'I think I see what you mean,'

she said. 'Thank you for that tiny ray of suns.h.i.+ne.'

179.

'He'll sort something out. He always does.'

The d.u.c.h.ess frowned. 'Well, I hope he doesn't wait too long.

I find that all this talk about bathrooms is having a rather unsettling effect.'

The Bug had no trouble interfacing with the hardware components of the target machine. It settled into a dialogue with the main processor and the overload build-up began.

The Doctor was still staring at the screen. He had memorized the route a long time ago. His mind was elsewhere now, working out his possible next moves, toying with various courses of action. He was sitting so still that twice the movement sensor in the ceiling had a.s.sumed the room was empty and switched off the lights. It had also turned the local equipment, in particular the computer and its screen, to standby mode to conserve more power. The first time it happened, the Doctor was surprised and confused. But when he stood up, and the lights came back on, he looked round for the tiny sensor. The second time he merely waved a lazy hand, and the systems revived to his gesture.

The screen flickered, shaking him back to reality. But this time it did not turn off. A power fluctuation, perhaps? Probably he should check the pictures from the security cameras again.

It would be useful to see what was going on.

He noted a faint smell of burning as he leaned forward to move the mouse. Probably more alien fun and games somewhere in the house. He would soon see. The Doctor hunched close over the computer and surfaced the window which was running through the sequence of security camera images.

180.

On the Tiles Higgins had been lying still for what seemed like forever. The weight of the L42 sniper rifle was beginning to tell, his arm aching under the strain. He lay in the undergrowth at the edge of the parkland to the south of the target, just inside the perimeter fence. The dampness was slowly seeping into his fatigues, making them clammy.

His neck was aching too, from the strain of keeping his eye pressed to the telescopic nightsight. He moved the gun slowly from side to side, partly to ease the weight and keep his joints moving, and partly to check the roof of the building for movement. If anything did move up there, it would catch a 7.62 millimetre round from Higgins before it got very far.

A small beetle crawled lazily across his hand. He did not move. The effort of lowering the rifle and then raising it again would be greater than keeping it levelled. And he knew from his training that a moment's loss of concentration could mean a missed opportunity. The smallest movement could pick him out as a target. He settled for exhaling heavily into the tiny radio microphone pinned to his camouflaged lapel.

The smell of burning was getting stronger. Otherwise the Doctor would have spent longer examining the camera image of the hostages as they sat on the floor of the great hall. He was keen to check that Sarah was all right. She seemed to be talking with an elderly lady. The Doctor let the sequence of images progress to the next.

An empty corridor. Followed by a narrow staircase.

As he watched, there was movement at the corner of the screen. The image changed again. He frowned and recalled the 181 previous picture. Sure enough, a group of aliens led by the woman from the pub were making their hurried way up the staircase. Up to no good no doubt, the Doctor smiled. He leaned back in his chair.