Light Shaper (16 page)

“I’ll go now to get prepared. Anything else I should know before I go? Any way this Atlas thing can be a danger to me or my team?”

“I can override every command it issues and block it out of systems using my executive privileges, but there is a limit to what I can do and no limit to Atlas’s reach. As long as there is some way for Atlas to establish a connection with anything electronic, it will be able to control it, however briefly. It is an incredibly advanced AI. Watch out. Depending on how important Aaron Blake is to Atlas, you may be in for a rough ride.”

Diana nodded briskly and left by a door that Rigel had not noticed previously. As soon as she was gone, Tanner seated himself at a console and began typing furiously.

The video feed blinked out in Rigel’s room. In its place was another message.

Richard Tanner is attempting to override my lock on the doors leading to this laboratory, Rigel. Security personnel will have full access in less than one minute.

As if to emphasize what it was saying, Atlas switched the video again to show a group of security agents with side arms running down a corridor. Then it switched again, showing couples of agents taking up ambush positions throughout the building. All of them were armed, and the fact that they were hunting him made Rigel dizzy for a moment. This felt like a nightmare.

Rigel, leave now. Exit through this route.

Atlas switched the image yet again, showing Rigel a 3-D map of CradleCorp. A bright yellow line snaked out from room 99, where Rigel was, all the way out the back and leading to the desert outside the compound. Then the line disappeared underground.

I will attempt to override security blocks as you go, but if I am shut down you must use the quantum drive’s physical interface connector to link to the door release system and break through. You must leave now, Rigel. As soon as you are back in Aurora, I will attempt to contact you again in case you are followed and require a safe place to hide. Your visitor access card will show you the exit route.

Rigel stared hard at the map, relieved to know that he recognized the exit he was headed for in the lower levels. In fact, the way Atlas had plotted was straightforward enough, with only one turn in the middle of level 2 that he wasn’t sure about—

A big explosion rocked the floor of the laboratory, followed by the muffled sounds of shouting. They were breaking through.

GO.

The heavy door leading out of room 99 opened immediately. Rigel paused for a second before crossing it, and then stepped out into the war zone.

It was chaos outside. Floating clouds of debris, smoke, shattered windows, and yelling voices all registered in Rigel’s mind in the split second it took him to look down both ends of the hallway to make sure there wasn’t anybody in sight. As soon as he poked his head through, however, a loud gunshot exploded in the tight space, making his ears ring.

They are shooting at me
, Rigel thought, disbelieving.
Oh God, they are shooting at me!

He thought about giving up right then and there. He would go to jail, maybe, but he would be alive.

Screw Atlas. This ends here.

He came out into the hallway again, both arms up.

“I give up!” he shouted. “I give—”

Bang!

A shot hit the floor way too close to Rigel’s foot. A second one made the window on his left explode.

They weren’t backing down. They were shooting to kill.

Some primal part of Rigel’s brain activated when he realized his life was actually in danger. He gathered his strength and sprinted out of the lab as fast as he possibly could. Another gunshot followed him almost immediately, but the bang was followed by more broken glass somewhere behind him, and there was no impact immediately nearby. The smoke and dust was helping him, shrouding him as he escaped. Rigel had no time to look back and see what was happening, but he didn’t care as long as he wasn’t hit.

He ran. Fast. He forgot about watching his hands so as to not hurt them, clinging to stairwell railings with the meager strength in his fingers and swinging over the rails when he could, jumping down three steps at a time and stumbling over himself twice to get all the way down to the ground floor. He rushed through the lower levels until he came to a dead end. It was the bottom of the emergency stairway, blocked by heavy metal doors on all sides. Above him the shouts of pursuit were louder, and someone threw a small canister down the stairs that hit the floor right next to Rigel and immediately began shooting off a thick white smoke. Rigel backed away from it into the nearest door. He punched the open button, but it was completely unresponsive.

“Atlas!” Rigel yelled, panicking, not caring if anyone heard. “Open the door!”

There was an immediate whirring sound, then something metallic snapping inside the door mechanism, and the door slid open slowly, throwing sparks everywhere. Rigel dived into the opening as soon as it was large enough for him to squeeze through, right as he caught a whiff of the gas coming from the canister. He choked on it, stumbling forward, his eyes watering immediately. From above came the sound of heavy boots stomping down the stairs, and more shouted commands. Rigel hurried, wiping his eyes to clear his vision. He was coughing, not sure which way he was headed, and made a blind right turn at the next corner. He knocked over a trash can full of garbage and stumbled into another security block, this time a metal grate right in his path. He couldn’t go forward, and as soon as he touched the grate, alarms went off everywhere. The hallway was filled with noise and intermittent pulses of red light.

“Atlas!” Rigel yelled again, but this time there was no response. Rigel looked around frantically, trying to find an input panel to use his access card on, but it was taking too much time, and now the men chasing him had to be—

“There he is!” someone shouted down the hallway. “Take him out!”

They opened fire. Rigel dropped to the ground, but he wasn’t fast enough. One of the shots got him right in the chest, staggering him, knocking the air out of his lungs. He fell to the floor like a brick.

“I think I got him! Over there!” a far-off voice was saying. Rigel couldn’t focus. Why was he looking up at the ceiling? There was a horrible pressure in his chest, and he couldn’t get a breath. Was he dying? Was this what it felt like?

More running footsteps, but suddenly there was a very loud hissing sound, and the entire hallway filled with emergency CO2 discharges coming from the ceiling, part of the fire suppressor system. Ice-cold water exploded out of the sprinklers above and doused Rigel’s face, jerking him to motion. The footsteps had stopped, and now there were loud sounds of coughing and things falling to the ground. The gas coated everything, collecting more thickly near the ceiling and hiding Rigel from view. He knew he had to go. He just couldn’t get his body to respond. He didn’t even know how bad the gunshot was.

The sirens stopped blaring, and Rigel managed to turn over to try and push himself up. He got on hands and knees, but his braces slipped on the wet floor when the metal in them slid over marble and sent him sprawling back down on his face. Something really heavy fell behind him, unseen, and shook the ground. Instantly, the coughing and voices sounded muffled.

Rigel pushed himself back up on all fours. He was completely confused. He could breathe better now that the pressure in his chest was dissipating, though, and suddenly it occurred to him that there was no blood. He had been hit, and when he touched the area right over his breastbone where the impact had gotten him, it hurt like hell. But there was no blood.

He tried to stand up by grabbing on to the grate that still blocked his passage, but as soon as he got his head into the thick of the gas, he began coughing and had to drop back down. He was trapped. Whatever was keeping the guards from reaching him couldn’t hold out forever. Atlas had probably activated the fire suppressor system to help, but if it had not opened the grate then it was because it couldn’t. Rigel had to find a way to get it open, and quickly.

He looked up at the wall, scanning it frantically, and almost missed the incredibly small input panel half-hidden by a water cooler. He reached up, careful to keep his head as low as possible to avoid the CO2 that was already dissipating, and managed to yank it open with a hard pull on the handle. As he did, however, he felt a stabbing pain arc up his forearm from the effort. Too much effort for his hands, too soon. He dropped his right hand immediately and used the left to finish pulling. He fumbled in his pockets with nonresponsive fingers until he found the quantum drive and stuck it into the input slot with a shaky grip. A couple seconds later, the grate clicked and swung inward, open at last.

Rigel grabbed the drive again and crawled out of there, his braces clicking against the floor and his right arm throbbing with pain. As soon as he could, he stood up and ran again through the desolate office hallway. He made another right at a junction he recognized and followed the path until he was in the back area of the compound, where no users were in sight and the big warehouse-like storage rooms apparently began. This was the path he’d used with Misha to sneak into the building the day before.

He ran into the first room he came across, dodging boxes of computer parts and office supplies, and he threw open the back door as he reached it. He could see a back exit now. It was just a quick sprint away. Rigel glanced back, saw nothing, and dared to hope he would get out in one piece.

Then he stepped out of cover into the final hallway and ran straight into a big security guard with a gun pointed at his face.

They both reacted instinctively, Rigel jerking over to the right, out of the way, and the guard firing in reflex with practiced efficiency.

Rigel was knocked back by the force of the shot, which got him in the shoulder and made him cry out in pain. Whatever he had been hit with in the chest before had not been a real bullet—he knew that now. A real bullet burned like fire when it went in, and there was blood. Blood everywhere.

Rigel gritted his teeth and managed to keep his feet under him, but as he looked up into the grim, determined face of the guard that stood between him and escape, Rigel knew there was no way out. The pain came again in a wave, nauseating, and Rigel tensed for a last struggle. If he launched himself directly at the man, he might at least knock the weapon away before he could shoot him again. But then he would have to fight him directly, and the guard looked way too strong to take down.

There was a loud crack and then a hiss of static, and the guard’s radio burst to life.

“Barrow!” an angry voice yelled. “He’s headed your way! Take him out!”

The guard named Barrow was distracted for a split second, and Rigel took his chance without thinking. He charged ahead, past the bigger man, fast enough to crash into the exit door just as Barrow turned around, recovering and aiming with his weapon at the same time. If this door was unlocked like he hoped, then Rigel would go through and shut it behind him before—

He hit the door, hard, and almost passed out from the sudden pain that sliced from his shoulder into the rest of his body. Locked. The door stayed closed, and Rigel barely had time to jerk out of the way when the next shot was fired.

There was no fire-burst of impact in his flesh this time. The gun was aimed at him squarely now, and when Rigel’s ears stopped ringing from the blast, he saw that Barrow had missed on purpose.

“Don’t move,” he growled, his voice deep and forbidding.

“Barrow! Goddammit, was that you?” the voice in the radio yelled again. “Barrow!”

Behind Rigel, the door to freedom suddenly clicked loudly, followed by a heavy metal
thunk
. Rigel felt it swing outward under his weight as it was unlocked remotely, and he also felt the heat of the desert outside as the unseen gap behind him widened. He couldn’t turn around to check, though. The barrel of the gun was steady, the hand that held it unflinching.

“Don’t,” Barrow warned him. But he didn’t shoot.

Rigel met Barrow’s eyes even as he felt hot blood trickling down his arm from the gunshot. It didn’t hurt so bad now, although Rigel wasn’t sure if it was just the adrenaline blocking the pain. Whatever it was, it gave him clarity. This had stopped being an unbelievable nightmare and turned into survival, plain and simple. If Rigel stayed, then Tanner would make sure he never left. Rigel couldn’t let that happen. And so he took a step back.

Barrow shook his head slowly, tightening the grip on the gun. Rigel stepped back again, still meeting the other man’s eyes with the unshakable resolution of knowing there was no other way out. Either the guard shot him, or he let Rigel go.

Rigel caught a glimpse of something in the guard’s face when he took the third step back. His intimidating glower cracked slightly, and the radio in his belt buzzed to life a third time. The sounds of more people coming closer echoed in the empty hallways beyond, and Rigel turned around and knew he had to risk it. He left.

It was the longest three seconds of his life. Rigel stepped out into the desert quickly, expecting to be shot in the back, expecting the blast and the impact and the pain. The instant he was fully out the door, Rigel grabbed the heavy thing and slammed it shut with every ounce of strength he could muster, and then he ran, escaping as fast as he possibly could straight to the underground station he could see in the little map blazing on his access card. The desert rocks under his feet threatened to trip him, the heat of the daytime sun blasted him from every direction, and each time one of his feet hit the ground, another stab of pain jarred his entire shoulder, threatening to tear it apart from how bad it felt. He didn’t slow down, though. He was running in full panic, expecting gunfire to rain down upon him, to stop him right before he reached the abandoned station that he was suddenly running into, kicking aside a rusty door and plunging headfirst into the welcoming, sheltering darkness. He closed the door behind him and meant to keep on running, but one of his legs bent out under him, and he went down. He stayed down.