Part 26 (1/2)

”So, that's it. We have a rogue core,” Bren said aloud.

”Wait. I'm not sure,” Hoffman said.

”Claw has been destroyed,” Meridian announced.

”You shot Nemesis as well,” Bren protested.

”The course was necessary to a.s.sure success of the mission.”

”It was impossible to disable the creature?” asked Henley. Bren realized that with the marines waiting outside the factory, Henley had probably been following the a.s.sAIL team as closely as Bren.

”The cyborg was disabled. It underwent a voluntary disintegration,” Meridian said.

Henley cursed. ”So many men dead and we still haven't learned anything about the aliens.”

”A great deal of data has been gathered about the enemy,” Meridian said.

”Good, we will carefully review your mission summary,” Bren jumped in. ”Please return to the Guts as soon as Colonel Henley declares the factory secure.”

Of course, Bren was really talking to Henley: Let's not discuss it any further until the cores are shut down.

He could send Henley private messages through the links. He decided to make it a point to do so in the future. If the cores were smart enough, they'd be able to read between the lines of human communication, despite being only a few hours old.

”Neptune's hardware is up, but the machine is unresponsive,” said a handler. Bren checked the machines in his PV. Meridian and Oblivion were already heading back toward the Guts.

”The machine has fractures ... maybe something got cut that doesn't show on the hardware diagnostics,” Bren said.

”Neptune was compromised by the enemy,” Meridian said. ”It had to be shut down.”

Compromised. As if the Reds' physical combat capabilities aren't fearsome enough.

Bren started pacing in the Guts. He was still pacing when the clanking of the machines became audible. Bren listened. Meridian was actually making less noise. He realized there had never been an audio problem. He traded glances with Hoffman. The handler looked at Bren questioningly and then he turned to stare at Meridian. Bren saw Hoffman's face darken. Had he realized the machine was actually quieter?

”Post-mission report is complete. Ready for shutdown,” Meridian announced.

Bren felt intensely uncomfortable now, because the machine knew it was here to be turned off. The procedure was bad enough when he believed the machine only knew in the last second or two.

He didn't say anything but concentrated on the shutdown procedure. He only looked into the a.s.sAIL's black eyes as he deactivated the power sources. He held his breath, half expecting the power down wouldn't work, and that the machines would stay alive, and start giving him orders. But Meridian drooped and its running lights dimmed. The machine was once again dead.

Bren fell back against the nearest bank of equipment. He allowed himself to rest only for a couple of seconds.

”Hoffman. I need to talk to you for a minute,” Bren transmitted. Hoffman gave Bren an odd look. He was probably wondering if Bren spoke with the link because of Bren's link bias or if he needed privacy.

”Yes, sir. What's up?”

”Have you made any changes to Meridian, any alterations to the core seed, or changes to the pre-mission module?”

”No, sir. I know he was acting a little differently, but ... we did start them earlier this time. He's smarter.”

”Look, I know you and I have bent a few rules here and there, but if I find out you're holding out on me-”

”No. I'm not. I don't know what's up with Meridian. He went in with the same pre-mission module as the others.”

Bren scowled but he believed Hoffman. Bren wasn't sure that anything had gone wrong with Meridian. This was the third mission the machine had survived, each time in the face of high casualties. Sometimes men or machines were just lucky.

”We need to pay special attention to Meridian's sterilization. I have a bad feeling about what's going on with him. I don't like these oddities.”

Hoffman nodded. ”Sure, sir. Whatever you say.”

Bren could tell from the tone of Hoffman's voice that he thought Bren was making a big deal out of nothing.

Perhaps so, Bren thought. Perhaps not.

”We have three good possibilities for our next incursion,” Devin said. ”Carthage, Camelot, and Synchronicity.”

As Devin talked, a pane opened in each person's PV displaying the stations on the plane of Earth's...o...b..t around the sun.

”Carthage deserves consideration because we have an unconfirmed report that people there are wearing the gear. The problem with this station as a target is that we don't think it's been taking any of the anomalous material s.h.i.+pments from Earthside corporations.”

Bren paid as much attention as he could manage to Devin's information. He watched her carefully for signs that she had forgiven him for his display of interest over the Brazilian operative. Bren figured that he might have blown it with her a second time. Women always added turbulence to his life. Sometimes it was welcome, other times it distracted him too much from his work.

Devin added pictures of Carthage to the channel. Bren thought it looked larger than the stations they had visited already. The supporting materials indicated that Quantix Corporation produced hydrogen cells at Carthage for energy storage in s.p.a.cecraft and s.p.a.ce stations. The official reason for a deep s.p.a.ce orbit was for access to hydrogen barges coming in from the outer solar system when Earth wasn't a convenient rendezvous.

”We have Camelot on our top list because it's jointly owned by Reiss-Marck and Bentra, who we know have been involved in this mess, whether knowingly or not. We think it may have been involved with the s.h.i.+pments. At the very least some of the s.h.i.+pments have gone to or through Camelot.”

Bren saw a complex tree chart of s.h.i.+pment paths in his PV. The material s.h.i.+pments that had been flagged as suspicious were tracked through the chart. Several of the lines for each company pa.s.sed through or terminated at Camelot, which was highlighted in a red box in the center of the chart.

”Synchronicity is also a prime target,” Devin continued. ”It's been involved in the materials s.h.i.+pments for over six months. We don't know if the populace there wears gear.”

”I think it's safer to go by our materials traces,” Vendrati said. ”We know that a corporation has tried to deceive us at least once by planting the gear.”

”That's slightly misleading,” Devin said. ”Was the gear really being falsely planted or was it being sent there in preparation for a takeover of the station? It could be hard to tell the difference without more reliable sources.”

”I agree that the other material s.h.i.+pments are a more reliable signal,” Jameson said. ”We won't ignore the other sources, but we can set our priorities by the strength of our data.”

Bren brought up a pane in his PV to track the s.h.i.+pments. Items had been flagged based on the stations needs from a year ago compared to s.h.i.+pments in the last few months. The data wasn't perfect, Bren thought. After all, different materials could be needed for new manufacturing processes or experiments-change didn't necessarily mean anything was up. But these amounts of platinum, gold, t.i.tanium, and a dozen other pure metals, not to mention a laundry list of specialized chemicals that would be difficult to produce locally.

”Bren?”

Bren's attention broke from the pane. ”Hrm? Ahm, pardon, sir?”

”Which station do you think should be next?” Jameson said. Bren detected an undercurrent of impatience in the admiral's tone. Bren was sure he'd missed something again.

”Synchronicity,” Bren said. ”I see from the s.h.i.+pments graph here that one or two s.h.i.+pments pa.s.sed through another station and continued to Synchronicity. But no s.h.i.+pment has ever gone to Synchronicity and then been routed past there.”