Nefertiti led them along the cliff face. She doubled down onto all fours, for the first time moving like the deer that the Antler Clan resembled. But the odd camouflaging effect to her fur made her uniqueness stark.
Dr. Ikaro followed Nefertiti in their single-file trek along the edge of the hill. She walked with less confidence than she had in the forest. Twice she reached out to the sparse trees for support.
Orson took up the rear. He snuck glances at the lab. There were no windows that immediately faced them.
He saw, as the hill began to descend toward the river, that the waterside portion of the building stretched out over the current – probably something enabling the facility’s energy generation.
Nefertiti guided them all the way to the spot where the ragged hill’s edge joined the lab’s perimeter wall. She withdrew from the edge, back into the thin tree cover. She looked at the sky, eastward, away from the river. Dr. Ikaro followed suit. She also stepped out of sight.
Then Orson heard it – the roar of the IHSA Saw-Wing fighters. They’d flown in the hundreds at Norlenheim, their thrusters shrieking as they fought for the old Hierarchia, for the old order before it fell.
As Orson watched, a patrol of the boomerang-shaped fighter craft flew over the lab – only three, but three was enough to confirm his fears. This was not Maros’s amateur hour or Sloan’s officially-endorsed mob, this was a true remnant, a resurrection of the dead IHSA’s power.
Orson stepped back under the trees, until the three craft passed out of sight. He didn’t know how attuned the Saw-Wings’ sensors were. It had been a rare thing for the old Hierarchia to use their precious, most secret toys.
Orson currently carried no munitions to shoot fighters from the sky. He owned little such weaponry other than the Aesir’s built-in defenses. Fighting one fighter with what he’d brought with him would be difficult in the extreme. Fighting all three or more than that – that would be almost impossible.
He stepped beside Ikaro, so she would hear him speaking at a whisper. “Tell Nefertiti I’m going to ask that Ramses guide the other Advisory officials to the sanctuary. Ask her if she is willing to lead any survivors I find there alone. None of us can stay in the open with those fighters in the air.”
The biologist nodded. She gestured to her ears and made wide expansive motions with her arms. Nefertiti returned the gesture.
“She agrees,” Ikaro said. “But I’m not certain she really understands what you mean. The Antler Clan almost always travels in groups. This journey is unprecedented.”
“Work on explaining this to her,” Orson replied. “Please. If she won’t understand sending the Antler Clan on without her, the two of you will need to head back before I go in the lab. I’d figure out something else for any survivors I find.” Ikaro began further gestures to Nefertiti.
Orson activated his link to the Aesir. He sent a message in a single burst that would appear as a text display on his ship’s windshield monitor. He said, “Liberty Corps fighters in the air. Send Antler Clan and the Advisory to the Sanctuary. Then stay out of sight. Stay in the ship.”
Orson thought he’d spoken at a whisper, but Nefertiti waved her forelimbs, making wide motions, like a speed swimmer doing the butterfly stroke.
“She says you are too loud.” Ikaro returned to Orson and whispered to him.
“I’m sorry,” Orson answered.
“She also says she will remain here while you rescue survivors. I’m still not sure if she understands your request, but we will stay here for now.” Ikaro pointed to the lab. “The Antler Clan uses this place to pass over the security wall. There are no cameras here.”
“Why?” Orson asked.
“This area floods.” Ikaro shrugged. “I think that’s why. The IHSA closed shop here in eighty-nine, and we haven’t made many changes.”
Nefertiti waved at Ikaro. The scientist returned the motion. Both gestured to Orson.
“She asks again for us to be quiet,” Ikaro said. “I told her I must speak to you, or you will not know where to go. If you follow the platform to the building, she said there is an opening with light from inside. That is all she knows.”
Orson glanced toward the river and the thin platform on the other side of the wall. It was wide enough only for one person to stand. He’d walked and even fought with narrow footing, but it would be difficult for any survivors to return with him. When he turned back, he found Ikaro scribbling on a small scrap of paper. He could see a series of rough lines, not writing.
“A map?” he asked.
“First floor is all military.” She nodded. “The second floor is all research. Everyone there should be an adult professional. Most with families have homes in the Crystal Dune Village.”
Orson looked at the hand-drawn map. “The terminal mainframe,” he said. “Is all of your data stored there? I think the Liberty Corps is here for your research.”
“Most data is logged there,” Ikaro said. “That’s standard procedure. There are eight total division chiefs, five possibly alive in there now. There are a total fifteen aides. I don’t have their schedules to tell you who is inside currently. The Air Force operation is much larger, one hundred and thirty total service members, since we lost central funding, but only sixty are on site at any one time. I’m not sure how many were present for the attack.”
“And you were out in the yard when the attack started?” Orson asked.
“We were already working with the Antler Clan, yes,” Ikaro said. “They began to lead us away, even before the ships arrived. I think they know the sound of the Saw-wings and the skimmers from very far away. Then Dr. Lin found us with his infrared scanner. He escaped through a window with his aide. Lin said the Liberty Corps had already executed Lt. Colonel Atkins and several airmen. Any life you save is a gift, but my aide, Lana Pennington, refused to go with the Antler Clan. She went back inside to find her husband.”
Orson considered the possibility that he’d find a building of nothing but enemies and corpses.
“Okay.” He bowed to both Nefertiti and Ikaro. They returned the gesture. “Thank you. I will do my best to save anyone still alive.”
Orson turned away from them. His HUD saw no sign of motion, no ships, no land vehicles, no one on foot.
He stepped off the edge of the hill. Firing his repulsor, he glided down gently onto the platform. He let his HUD take another scan, before he started walking.
Orson saw nothing. He stepped as softly as he could, but every right footfall made its distinct metal clink. It was a slight sound, but more than enough to set off a noise sensor. Even if the area flooded too often for security cameras – or that was the case decades ago – there were other ways to notice him.
The building’s hydroelectric wing extended out over the wall and the maintenance walkway and then turned in a right angle down into the river. The generator let out a low hum and sporadic grinding noises, loud enough that Orson would not be able to hear the sound of approaching feet.
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Orson reached the end of the walkway – the only place with a railing. There was a grate in the bottom of the horizontal extension from the lab. Through it, Orson saw the sky.
Orson drew his sword. He fired his repulsor and flew up to the grate and cut it. He sliced it in a slow circle so it stayed in one piece. Then he forced the grate up and inside before it could fall.
Orson entered the Crystal Dune lab. He stood in an enclosed walkway lined with circuitry and accordion cabling. Above him was a wide skylight.
Two doors stood to his right, ‘Level 1’ and ‘Maintenance’.
Orson found the Maintenance door unlocked. He walked inside.
* * *
“I have good news for you, Ladies and Gentlemen. As long as you are useful to us and honest, no harm will come to you.”
Dr. Sophia Stanislakova could not see around the metal and cloth blinders the Liberty Corps operatives had fit over her eyes, but she knew the man’s voice. He was the only one who had spoken to them during the attack. His was the only Liberty Corps voice she’d heard that wasn’t a shouted order. She’d seen him before, white armor and massive cudgel at his hip.
This was not the first time she’d been threatened or the first time she’d seen violence. But she’d lived several decades since the last bloodshed she’d witnessed firsthand.
“You’re going to be transported away from here soon,” the Officer said. “The Liberty Corps is rebuilding this country, and I’m prepared to welcome you all to the new Liberty Corps Scientific Advisory. Or… I can deliver you to our interrogation teams, and we can persuade your cooperation through other means.”
“Burn in hell.” Dr. Joshua Pennington led the astronomical telemetry lab. He’d lost his entire family in a Thunderworks attack and now faced the end of his second life. “You killed my wife. Anything you do to me is just a distraction.”
“I understand that this is a difficult day for all of us,” the Officer said. “You’ve given your loyalty to the pretender remnants of the failed government. It was a horrible tragedy that they chose to be purged, but you’ll have a good life with the Liberty Corps. Your future begins when you give me your credentials and passcodes. You all want your work to go along with you, don’t you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Pennington said. “I’m dying here where you murdered my wife.”
“Sergeant,” the Officer said. “Doctor – now let me see here – Pennington, Dr. Pennington appears to need obedience procedures. Number three should be enough, for now.”
“Let him alone!” Dr. Rios yelled. She ran the meteorological station. Her husband had passed away before destabilization. Her son and his family lived in Phoenix. She’d lost friends in the attack, but not blood. “Let him grieve.”
“This is not the start I wanted to our relationship,” the Officer said. “You want us to have a good relationship, I promise you that. Sergeant, show Dr. Pennington…”
Something crashed into the room. Sophia didn’t recognize the sound, but it was loud enough that she wondered if the Liberty Corps attack had weakened the structural integrity of the building. It sounded like the walls were falling in.
But then she heard the footsteps, one heavier than the other, and a new voice spoke. “I think I could use some obedience too.”
* * *
Orson had found his way through the maintenance passages and spacious ventilation chambers of the Crystal Dune lab. He’d followed Dr. Ikaro’s map, sqeezing through gaps between walls and ventilation ducts, worming his way deeper into the complex, seeking some sign of survivors, any sign that the Liberty Corps had not massacred all lab personnel.
When he’d caught sight of vague heat blurs in his HUD, he fit a portable microphone to the wall of the largest briefing room. He’d heard the voice of the interrogating officer, and he knew the tone of voice.
Orson had waited for the best moment to strike. It was a doubtful thing that he could silence all three troops in the briefing room before the alarm was raised. There was little sense in heroics that didn’t also free the researchers.
But he would not tolerate watching the widower’s torture. So he’d sliced himself a hole in the thin, mid-20th Century, modernist wall and stepped into the briefing room.
“I think I could use some obedience too.” He confirmed the count his infrared scanning had shown through the wall, three Liberty Corps troops, plus five researchers with IHSA interrogation blinders on their heads.
The Liberty Corps trio reacted. The Blades Corps Sergeant who’d been approaching the researchers spun his glowing pike toward Orson. The Officer gasped and jumped away from him. The Rifle Trooper aimed at Orson, wielding a long, unfamiliar blaster with a serrated bayonet on the end.
Orson fired his repulsor just as the Rifle Trooper fired. He sent two energy bolts at Orson. One struck him in the coat. The other flew wide and hit the ceiling.
Orson cleaved the man and his blaster into pieces before he could fire a third time.
“Please, please, no!” Orson forced his voice into a high-pitched squeak, begging for the benefit of any listeners outside. The two surviving Liberty Corps troops stopped and stared at him. “Don’t shoot us! No!”
The Officer had drawn a gun from a holster at his hip. He was reaching for a radio with his left hand.
Orson flew again, blasting across the room. The Blades Trooper tried to intercept him, but he was too slow. Orson removed the Officer’s head before he could activate the radio.
Orson’s repulsor boot hit the tile floor with a pronounced thud. Before the sounds could register with any guards that may be outside, he reached the door, locked it, and dead-bolted it. He hoped that would buy him response time if the fighting was overheard.
The Blades Trooper stepped away from him, still turning dials at the base of the pike, moving backward toward the researchers.
Orson caught him with another leap. He struck the pike with his sword. The heat shield around the sword’s blade and the pike’s electricity competed, making a sharp sizzle.
“You’ll never leave this building without the Baron’s knights finding you,” the trooper said.
“Maybe not,” Orson replied. “But finding me has been known shorten life expectancy.”
Orson pulled the sword away from the pike and struck again. The electrified weapon withstood three strikes of the fire blade before its powered end was severed and fell to the floor.
“AH!” The man began to yell, his hand at his hip, a second blade half-drawn.
Orson struck him down before he could complete his cry for backup. Then he sagged against the wall, his palms and back drenched.
“Sorry about that, everyone,” Orson said. “I’m here to rescue you. We don’t have a lot of time. I’m not totally sure if they have listening devices around here. That’s why I used my little hostage voice.” He slid the sword back into its sheath and began freeing the researchers.
“Who are you?” One man asked.
Orson found that the blinders had two components, metal pieces that clamped to either side of each prisoner’s head and a cloth piece that clasped at the nape of the neck. Orson had forgotten his all-purpose knife back on the ship and his sweating fingers fumbled with the blinder.
When he freed the first of the researchers, the woman blinked through tears and gasped when she saw him, as if she knew him, but she was probably decades Orson’s senior.
“It is you!” she said, as Orson moved to free the next researcher down the table. “Wayfarer One, you saved my life at Isla de Manos. I was part of the Advisory mission.”
“Good to see you,” he answered. “I’m surprised you still recognize me. I didn’t have much of my usual getup back then.”
“Wayfarer One?” The first man asked. “Orson Gregory?”
“Gregory?” Another woman asked.
Orson thought he knew the voice – Dr. Stanislakova’s – was it her? But the man spoke again before Orson could ask.
“Who sent you?”
“I sent me,” Orson said. “I’m looking for any survivors. Do you know of anyone else still alive?”
“My dog!” Another man answered. “I can’t leave Loomy here to die, even if I stay with her.”
“No one’s staying behind.” Orson was getting better at removing the blinders. He quickly freed the dog owner. “Everybody just keep your voices down and wait until I get all of you free. Then we’ll figure this thing out.”
“Did the Liberty Corps call for help?” The second woman asked again.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Is that you, Dr. Stan?” Orson tried not to hope. Any survivors needed to be saved, but for all his reassurances to Enoa, Orson would carry guilt for the deaths at the lab.
As he’d snuck glances through vents and seen bodies of airmen and aides, scattered across the floor, left where they fell – he felt some of the blame. It was not his fault. It was not his doing, but if he had moved his investigation in a different direction, none of those people would have died. He would grapple with that uncomfortable truth.
But to bring about the death of the very person he was seeking, that would be a cruel irony. It would be hard enough to face Eloise again.
“It is me,” Dr. Stan answered. He reached her and removed the blinders. Her graying hair was disheveled but she looked much the same as she had on the video call. Orson had to remind himself that only about a week had passed, despite the relentless chaos they’d survived.
He saw Dr. Stan notice the state of the room and the state of the Liberty Corps guards. Her eyes scanned the Rifle Guard’s weapon in two pieces and the man lying in three. She saw the remains of the other Liberty Corps troops.
“Glad I had the chance to meet you in person.” Orson followed her gaze. “Sorry about the mess. Maybe just… look away.” He turned to the wider room. “I’m going to have to destroy whatever records I can on our way out. There are a few bits of information I could use against the Liberty Corps, but my priority right now is keeping information from them.”
“If you aren’t here for the data,” Dr. Stan said. “Why did you take the risk of coming here?”
“Shit like this is my calling in life.”