Deep Storm (33 page)

Oh, good, she said. You got the laptop.

The smile faltered as she caught the expression on his face. Peter. Something wrong?

Crane stepped forward. He glanced up at the security camera mounted in the ceiling, stayed carefully out of its field of view. I have to ask you something. Have you ever been to Outer Hull Receiving?

You mean, the place where the Tub docks with fresh supplies? She shook her head. Never.

Where were you around the time Asher died?

Here, in my lab. I was studying these absorption lines, remember? I told you that.

So you were nowhere near the hyperbaric chamber.

No. Ping frowned. Why? What are you getting at?

Crane hesitated. He was about to take a calculated risk and, very probably, break every rule in the lengthy agreements hed signed when he came here. It was true he could think of no reason why Korolis would lie about Pings involvement. And aiding a suspected saboteur was a treasonable offense. But his gut told him she was trustworthy.

Besides, she was the only person who could help him learn what Asher had discovered.

He licked his lips. Listen carefully. Korolis claims youre the saboteur.

Pings eyes widened. Me? But

Just listen. Hes convinced Spartan to put you under house arrest. A detail will be down here to escort you to your quarters at any moment.

That cant be. Her breathing grew fast and shallow. Thats not right.

He gestured her toward him, out of camera range. Calm down, its okay. Im getting you out of here.

But where?

Just relax. I need you to think. Is there a lab or some other place where you can work on the laptop? Somewhere isolated, out of the way, without security cameras?

Hui didnt answer.

Look, Im not going to let them take you. But we have to get out of here. Now do you know of a place like that?

She nodded, making an effort to calm herself. On deck six. The Maritime Applied Physics Lab.

Okay. But theres something I need to do first. Step over here, out of the cameras view. And reaching into the pocket of his lab coat he pulled out a sterile wrapper. As Hui drew close, he tore away the wrapper, exposing a number 12 scalpel that gleamed in the artificial light.

When she saw the scalpel, Hui stopped. Whats that for?

I need to remove the RFID tags they inserted in us, Crane said, pulling out additional medical equipment and laying it on the table. Otherwise, theyll find us anywhere.

He pulled up the sleeve of his lab coat, swabbed the dimpled area on his forearm with disinfectant. He let the scalpel hover over his skin a moment as he held his breath.

The first incision sliced through the epidermis. The second penetrated the dermis and exposed the RFID tag, embedded amid yellow subcutaneous fat. Hui looked away as he plucked out the radio tag with tissue forceps, then let it drop to the floor of the lab and crushed it underfoot.

There, he said. Now I cant be tracked like some migrating fowl.

He dressed and sterilized the wound, applied a butterfly closure, and tossed the scalpel in the wastebasket. Then pulling another sterile scalpel from his pocket he turned toward her.

She took an involuntary step backward.

Dont worry, he said. Ive got an anesthetic pad to numb your skin. The only reason I didnt use one on myself was because I accidentally grabbed just one from the dispensary in the temporary infirmary.

Still, she hesitated.

Hui, he said. Youve got to trust me.

She sighed, nodded. Then she stepped forward again, pushing up her own sleeve as she did so.

Chapter 40

Ready? Crane said, disposing of the medical instruments. Then take what you need and lets go.

Hui hesitated a moment. Then she walked to her desk, pulled open a drawer, and removed a bulky tool kit. Next, she disconnected her laptop from the network, unplugged it, and tucked it beneath her arm.

Whats that for? Crane asked, nodding at her laptop.

Spare parts. She straightened. Ready.

Lead the way, then. Avoid marines and security cameras.

They left the radiology lab and made their way down the narrow corridors of deck 3. At the first intersection, Hui stopped, then chose the right-hand path to avoid a security camera. They followed the corridor to the end, where it doglegged left.

Crane turned the corner, then stopped. Ahead of them, to one side of the hallway, two marines stood on guard outside a closed, redpainted door.

He thought quickly. The marines had radios clipped to their belts. But chances were very good there hadnt been any general announcement made about a search for Hui. If they were to back up it would look far more suspicious.

He reached for Huis hand, gave it a brief, inconspicuous tug. Then he started forward, swinging Ashers laptop case with what he hoped was the right degree of indifference. After a moment, he saw from the corner of his eye Hui begin to follow him.

Crane passed the marines, who eyed him but said nothing.

They passed a half dozen closed doors, then arrived at another intersection. To the left, more marines were stationed.

I cant do this, Hui whispered to Crane.

Youve got to.

She paused for a moment, clearly trying to think. Theres a maintenance stairway behind Bottom we can take to deck six. This way. She turned and started down the right-hand corridor.

The cafeteria was relatively quiet, a dozen people sitting in small clusters at the white-topped tables. Hui led the way along one wall to the swinging doors that opened onto the cramped kitchen. It was as crowded as the cafeteria was empty. In one corner, Crane saw Renault, the executive chef, but the man was busily plating a meal and did not look up.

Hui walked across the tiny kitchen, past the cold storage unit, and pulled open a metal hatch in the rear wall. A narrow metal stairway lay beyond. Ducking through and closing the hatch behind them, they made their way quickly up three flights of stairs to deck 6. The stairway ended here no doubt, Crane realized, because directly above lay the Barrier, the no-mans-land between the classified and non-classified areas.

On the landing, Hui paused to collect herself. She reached for the handle, took a deep breath. Then she opened the hatch.

An empty corridor lay beyond.

She gave a sigh of relief. The labs just down this hallway.

She led Crane past a maintenance room and an unoccupied office, then stopped outside a door labeled MARITIME APPLIED PHYSICS and opened it briskly. Crane made a final scan of the hall, making doubly sure there were no witnesses or security cameras. Then he followed her into the darkened lab, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hui snapped on the lights, revealing a large, well-appointed space. There was a central table on which sat a stereozoom microscope and an autoclave. A couple of lab stools were snugged up to one side. An open door in the rear wall led to an equipment locker; to either side stood racks of oscilloscopes, galvanometers, and other gear Crane couldnt identify. A large drop cloth of some unusual material hung from a hook beside one of the equipment racks. It gave off a silvery sheen under the fluorescent light.

Crane walked over to the drop cloth, rubbed it between his fingers. Whats this? he asked.

Fire suppressant cloth. Just in case an experiment goes awry.

He nodded. And why isnt this lab being used?

Dr. Asher had planned to take this opportunity being on the Facility, I mean to run some deep-water tests. Capillary-gravity wave analysis, current sedimentology, that sort of thing. After all, having a resource like this is the chance of a lifetime.

What happened?

He was overruled by Spartan. Needed extra manpower for the excavation, it seemed. Lost bunk space for half a dozen of the scientists hed been counting on. She walked over to the lab table, placed her laptop and tool kit on it. You can set Ashers laptop here, she said. As gently as possible, please. This kind of work should really be done in a class one hundred clean room: if we raise any dust, or if dirt gets on the exposed media, our chances of retrieving any data will become that much slimmer.

Crane set the laptop case carefully on the table. Hui rubbed her hands together for a moment, orienting herself. Then she began rummaging through various drawers, assembling a small arsenal of equipment: latex gloves, surgical masks, scalpels; a high-intensity work lamp; a magnifying lens in a tabletop stand; cans of compressed air. She opened her tool kit and spread the contents out on the table. Then she slipped a grounding strap over her wrist and glanced at him.

What are we looking for, exactly? she asked.

I dont know for sure. Somehow, we have to reconstruct Ashers final journey of discovery.

Hui nodded. As Crane watched, she slowly unzipped the case and pulled out the damaged laptop. One end was badly burned, the plastic housing partially melted. Scorch marks and smoke covered its surface. Cranes heart sank.

Hui pulled on the pair of gloves, fixed the surgical mask over her face. She handed another mask to Crane, gesturing for him to follow suit. Using the can of compressed air, she gave the already-spotless table a cleansing blast. Then she used a screwdriver from her tool kit to remove the laptops back plate. This was followed by the motherboard and the power supply. Now the hard drive itself was exposed.

We might be lucky, she said. The hard drive was away from the worst of the damage.

Moving to her own laptop, she disassembled it in turn. The work, the challenge, seemed to calm her. Watching, Crane was impressed by how quickly and skillfully she was able to break the computer down into its component parts.

Now, taking Ashers hard drive carefully in hand, she carried it over to her own laptop and substituted it for her drive. She quickly reassembled her laptop, plugged it in, turned it on. There was a loud clicking sound, followed by several beeps. An error message appeared on the screen and the computer refused to boot.

Whats that noise? Crane asked.

At the data recovery facility I interned at, they called that the Click of Death. It usually means a servo failure or something similar.

Thats bad, right?

I dont know yet. Weve got to open up the drive.

She powered down her laptop, disassembled it again, and removed Ashers hard drive. Setting it carefully on the table, she motioned Crane to step back. Using a series of tiny screwdrivers, scalpels, and some tools that to Crane looked more suitable for a dentists office, she coaxed off the top half of the housing. Bringing the work lamp close, she aimed it at the hard drive. The inner workings stood revealed in the glare: a series of thin, gold cylinders stacked one atop another, each sporting a tiny read/write arm, the whole surrounded by a tiny green forest of integrated circuits.

Hui leaned in with the magnifying lens, giving the drive a close inspection. There doesnt appear to have been a head crash, she said. The platters look like theyre in good condition. A pause. I think I see the problem. There are burned chips on the PCB.

PCB?

Primary controller board.

Can you repair it?

Probably. Ill swap out the board with the one from my laptop.

Crane frowned. You can do that?

Every laptop on the Facility is precisely the same model. You know the government always buy in bulk.

Working through the magnifying lens, Hui used jewelers tools to remove a tiny portion of the drive mechanism. Its really fused, she said, holding it up to the magnifying lens and turning it this way and that with a pair of tweezers. Were lucky the platters themselves werent melted.