Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) (14 page)

“This is Tash. Home. I need to
speak to my brother.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

This was Joshua’s
home?
Anya had read about the primitive conditions of
Tash in her school texts. She wondered now if Joshua had landed the Altai
airbird near Tash’s entrance on purpose, while at the same time appearing to
comply with the Tarim demand to stay out of Tarim airspace.

Anya hurried to keep up as he
strode for the wide entrance into the mountain. Now that he had accepted her
presence, Joshua seemed to be in a hurry to reach his destination.

With a brief word of greeting to
the two guards, he entered the dark, empty cave.

She said, “I thought people lived
in this cave.”

“No.” He didn’t seem inclined to
talk.

During the last twelve hours Anya
had come to realize how little she knew about him. She wouldn’t keep quiet now.
“Tell me about your family.” He’d briefly mentioned a brother once, long ago,
but that was all she knew.

Joshua didn’t answer. They had
come to a metal door. He punched a button beside it. A creaking groan sounded
from inside the mountain.

“Surely you have a family,” she
pressed.

The door slid open, and Joshua
stepped inside. A pale, vertical strip lit the elevator. It leant a greenish
gray hue to the utilitarian chamber. Joshua punched the “down” button.

“My father is dead.” He stated it
as a fact, without emotion.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

He stared straight ahead, his face
resembling a stone mask.

“What about sisters, or brothers?”

“I have one brother. Three
sisters. Probably more I don’t know about.”

The door slid open to reveal a
humungous cavern, lit in the center by a leaping bonfire. An invisible draught
of air sucked the smoke skyward, toward a black opening.

The cavern was jammed full of all
sorts of people. Flat, plastic television screens dominated the southern wall.
Images flickered on them. One repeated the Astana and Irgiz explosions. The
orange, billowing cloud that was Astana, stamped in violent color across the
black night, hit Anya like a fist punch to her gut. She gasped, and her steps
faltered. Her home…her friends…all dead. Joshua’s shoulders stiffened, but he
kept moving toward his intended destination. Few Tash residents paid attention
to the silent screens.

Drawing a steadying breath, she
hurried after Joshua. Wasn’t that why they were here? To avenge Astana and Irgiz,
and defeat Onred.

Most inhabitants gathered around
tables, haggling for vegetables and meat. In the far corner, children played
with scuttling rodents.

Anya stilled a shudder, and
followed Joshua into the noisy chaos. “What about your mother?”

“Dead.” He strode for the northern
side of the chamber.

As they passed a table of snow
boots, an old man’s face lit up in a toothless smile. “Joshua!”

Others quickly turned and cried
cheerful greetings to him.

Joshua replied curtly, still
heading for his unknown destination, which appeared to be a passageway coming
up on the right.

“Joshua, I love you,” cried out a
blond girl, and then swooned into the arms of an irritated looking man.

Anya caught up when he entered the
dimly lit passage. Overhead, thin light strips dimly lit the hall. “Did these
people really throw you out?”

“It’s convenient for them to
forget now.” He stopped and pounded on a scarred wooden door. “Michael. It’s
Joshua.”

The door opened. A man whose
features bore a marked resemblance to Joshua’s regarded them for a second, and
then ushered them inside. The cave dweller was taller and bigger than Joshua,
with dark blond hair and sable brows and dark green eyes. A scar marked his
face, from left ear to jaw.

“You’re alive.” Michael’s gravelly
voice bottomed out in a bass register.

“Surprised? Or disappointed?”

“Relieved.”

The two men eyed each other. No
familial warmth lurked.

She held out her hand. “I’m Anya.”

Michael enveloped hers in a warm
shake. “Michael. Joshua’s younger brother.”

Anya returned the firm pressure. “Pleased
to meet you.”

Michael’s attention returned to
Joshua. “We intercepted Onred’s transmission to Richert.”

“So you know I’m supposed to offer
myself as a sacrifice for peace.”

His brother’s gaze traveled to
Anya. “Her, too.”

“No. Nonnegotiable.”

“Do you trust her?”

When Joshua’s gaze rested on Anya,
a hint of amusement warmed it. “In every way—except obeying me.”

Michael’s lips twitched. “Tough
for a baron. Zebra Charlie Alpha?”

Anya recalled Joshua ordering
airships to retreat to a location named Zebra Charlie Alpha. She had never
heard of it before, and now wondered why Michael mentioned it.

“Yes.”

Following Joshua’s tersely spoken
affirmative, Michael headed into an inner room. It must be Michael’s living
area. It contained a sagging, puke green couch, an ornately carved rocking
chair, a table, and furry skins on the floor. A fire blazed in the hearth, and
a paper thin television, made of the usual flexible plastic, hung by nails from
the rock wall.

It was warm inside, and for the
first time Anya realized she hadn’t spotted any vents pumping central heating
through Tash. In fact, the short impressions she had formed of this underground
community were a strange mix of savage and civilized.

“Leave your bag here,” Joshua
said, so Anya left it near the door.

Michael shoved aside a
floor-to-ceiling wall tapestry. It hid an elevator. After they stepped inside,
its sudden jerk sideways made Anya stumble into Joshua. His strong arms closed
around her, holding her upright. Unfortunately, he released her the moment she
regained her balance.

With interest, Anya examined the
square “elevator” box in which they rode. “Is this an electric train?” she
asked in surprise.

“And an elevator,” Michael rumbled
with a faint smile.

It was hard to guess how fast they
were speeding, but from the initial jerk, it couldn’t be slow. “Are we going to
Zebra Charlie Alpha?”

Joshua met his brother’s gaze over
Anya’s head. “Not exactly. It’s the ZCA command center.”

She suspected he had filtered the
information. That was fine. She would discover more facts later, when she
needed them. “What will we do there?”

“You’ll send messages to Donetsk’s cities,” Joshua told her. The elevator jerked and slowed. “Orders are to evacuate,
except for mandatory personnel.”

Anya was pleased to be given a
task. All the same, she said, “Where will the people go? It’s too cold outside
for the babies and children.”

“Tell them to take solar tents and
provisions for a month. They’ll need to scatter into the hills so Onred’s ships
can’t use them for target practice.”

Anya wondered what would be worse
for her people—fleeing for their lives across the icy wasteland and hiding in
the hills, or sitting in warm, comfortable cities, which were apparently
defenseless from Onred’s attacks. Maybe it was an easy choice, after all.

The door slid open to reveal a
huge, rocky black cavern. Encircling the room was a seamless, floor-to-ceiling
television screen. Below the multitudes of flickering images, men operated
glassy computer work pads. The room’s center area housed a medium-sized
conference table and more computers, but those screens were smaller.

This cavern rivaled Astana’s
Command Central.

Relief hit Anya by surprise. “I
thought when Astana was destroyed, that that was it. I didn’t know…” She gazed
around in awe. “How long has this been here?”

Joshua smiled. “It’s been
operational for five years. I ordered it built two years after becoming baron.”

“It’s ingenious! And no one knows
about it?”

“If Onred did, it would be dust.”
He strode for an empty computer pad.

“I still don’t understand how
Onred got past Astana and Irgiz’s missile defense systems.”

Michael spoke. “I’ve been
wondering the same thing. It’s clear he disabled the defense system before he
kidnapped the Dubrovnyks. Otherwise, he would never have been able to land in
Astana in the first place. Once the defense system was breached, and the
Dubrovnyks kidnapped, sending a thermal into Astana would have been like
shooting a bomb into a baby’s crib. But here’s the real question. How did he
get the key codes to the system in the first place?”

“A spy. Or a traitor,” Joshua said
shortly.

Shocked, Anya said, “You think one
of our people is working for Onred?”

“What other explanation is there?”
Joshua leaned over the work pad. Fingers flying, he typed in a series of
letters and numbers. “Our first job is to change all of the codes, and jam the
transponder frequencies.”

“What if he’s accessed our entire
satellite computer system?” Anya said. “He might see the new codes, or delete
them.”

Joshua looked at Michael, who
said, “Del is working on that right now. He’s found a remote virus hacking the
satellite system, feeding data to Onred. We can’t tell where it originated, or
when it was planted. We do know, however, when it started corrupting the
system.”

“When?”

“Minutes before Onred scrambled
Astana’s air space circuits and kidnapped the Dubrovnyks. Del has cut out the
virus’s main heads, but now the end code is manufacturing new data processing
hubs. It’s like cancer.”

“The whole satellite is infected?”

“Everything but the housekeeping
network.”

Joshua opened his mouth, but
Michael raised his hand. “We’re on it. Del’s set up firewalls on the
housekeeping network. For now, they’re holding. His men are rewriting code so
Onred’s computers are directed back to the main system. Onred hasn’t tried to
breach ZCA’s firewall, because he doesn’t know we exist.”

“Yet,” Joshua said grimly. “Cut
information packets to short bursts.”

Michael nodded.

“Tell Zyra and the other cities to
take their systems offline and go to internal backup systems. Change all codes.
No communication through the satellite except through housekeeping.”

“Done.”

“Anya, write the messages to the
cities, and Del’s men will send it. Michael, do we have contact with our pilots
and the army?”

Anya moved to the work pad, and
swiftly typed in the evacuation order.

Michael answered Joshua’s
question. “Yes, but sporadic. Estimates are, half the airbirds are down. The
army is pretty much intact. Onred’s men bombed two military fields an hour ago.
The men were gone, though.”

“Good.”

“I’ll talk to Slovic about jamming
the pilot transponder codes. Most men have destroyed theirs, but a few are
flying solo—we haven’t heard from them in hours. I’ve ordered a blackout on
communications. I hope that’s okay.”

“You read my mind.” Joshua gripped
his brother’s shoulder. “Tell me when we’ve got a secure line to the commanders.
We won’t use ZCA’s channel until we’re sure Onred can’t access it.”

“Right.” Michael headed across the
room.

“I’m finished, Joshua,” Anya said,
after rereading her brief message. “But how will people know it’s really from
you?”

“We’ll attach a short video link.”
Joshua’s fingers flew across the keypad again, and then his arm unexpectedly
went around her shoulders. He drew her close against his side. “Smile for the
camera,” he murmured.

A red feed line indicated
recording had begun. “Anya and I are alive,” Joshua said in a cool, level
voice. “Our territory lives, as well. We will defeat Onred. Follow my
instructions for your own safety.” Another touch, and the feed glowed green.

Joshua’s warm arm left her
shoulders, and he touched a few more keys. “I sent it to Slovic. He’ll send it
on the secure network.”

Anya had managed to keep up fairly
well with the military half-speak and technical jargon Joshua and Michael had exchanged
a few minutes ago, although much more would make her head ache. One question
had come to mind, however. “Why hasn’t the virus infiltrated the housekeeping
network?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully Michael
and Del will find the answer.”

Anya had studied Donetsk’s general
satellite computer infrastructure in school. It had been a core requirement
that she had disliked, because it had required unusually boring amounts of
memorization. She had forgotten most of it promptly after graduation. However,
Anya did remember one interesting detail. “Both the housekeeping network and
the children’s education network are on the same satellite server. Why would
the children’s network be infected? Why would Onred infest a network made up of
education and games?”