Ure Infectus (Imperium Cicernus Book 4) (34 page)

Masozi felt something strange and startlingly unfamiliar in
that moment and it didn’t take her long to realize what it was: purpose. She
had thought that working as an Investigator would give her life some measure of
meaning, but the truth was she could have spent her entire life and solved each
case that came across her desk in New Lincoln’s Investigative Unit and she
would have never come close to correcting as much injustice as she was in that
moment.

Apparently taking Masozi’s silence for some form of
approval, Governor Keno reiterated, “By this time tomorrow you’ll be the
richest woman in the Sector. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.” A
nearly predatory look came over the Governor’s face, and in that moment Masozi
steeled herself to what needed to be done.

“You’ve got nothing I need,” Masozi bit out before sending
her fist into the Governor’s face.

Keno resisted the best she was able, but with two ruined
arms there was little she could do to prevent the inevitable as Masozi’s armored
gauntlets tore into the woman’s face with punch after punch.

Masozi thought of all the people who had died because of
Keno, Stiglitz, and whoever else had been involved in the attempt to track her
down and silence her. She still didn’t know why they had tried to kill her, but
Masozi no longer cared.

A single, resonant truth filled every corner of her
consciousness in that moment, and it was a profound realization which she knew
would re-shape her in ways she could only begin to wonder at:

People who would do as Keno had done couldn’t be allowed to
live.

After several dozen punches the Governor’s skin had been
peeled back from her face, revealing a cybernetic skull beneath. Masozi didn’t
know much about augment technology, but she seriously doubted that what she was
seeing was ‘normal’ augmentation.

The Governor’s body went limp, and Masozi reached down to
cradle her head in her hands and once she had done so, she gave an almighty
twist and the Governor’s head came off entirely.

Masozi stood as the Governor’s body went limp beneath her,
and she numbly dropped Keno’s disembodied head to the floor. She stood there in
silence for several seconds before Eve’s deadpan voice came over the helmet’s
speakers, “How does my ass taste now?”

In spite of the weight of what had just happened
,
Masozi couldn’t stifle a short laugh at Eve’s apparently
indomitable attitude. “How do we get out of here?” she asked, having never
asked the question before that moment.

“Truthfully,” Eve said with a sigh, “your guess is as good
as mine. I’ve got a dozen escape routes you can pick from, but we’ve been on a
complete comm. blackout since we entered the coliseum. I haven’t been able to
update any of my tactical databases so I’m afraid we’re down to ‘eeny, meeny,
miny, moe’.”

“How long until the door opens?”
Masozi asked, feeling her legs begin to shake beneath her.

“It should have already done so,” Eve replied cautiously. “I
only had them locked out for about fifty three seconds; it’s been almost four
minutes. Hang on a sec, honey,” Eve said quickly, “I’ve got to run some
diagnostics on this suit.”

Masozi tested her left leg, which Governor Keno had kicked
so savagely, and saw that while it seemed to be working properly there was a
long, spiraling crack running around the armored plate enclosing her thigh.

“We’ve got all our systems but the stealth field and our
atmospheric isolation operating within parameters,” Eve reported after a few
seconds of flicking through the various icons displayed in the helmet’s graphic
interface. Masozi knew that the visual representations of Eve’s actions were
just for her benefit, since Eve was performing the tasks simply by manipulating
computer code. But it was still reassuring seeing what Eve was doing while she
did it. “Our left leg’s containment integrity is FUBAR; we’d better hope we
don’t need that system because I can’t really do anything about the breach.”

“It’s a small price to pay,” Masozi said heavily before
drawing a deep breath. “Can we take the guards outside?”

“No problem, babe,” Eve replied promptly. “Even if there’s
six of ‘em and they’re all stone-cold baddies, none of them was wearing power
armor so one or two shots will take any of them out.
You up
to it?”

“I think so,” Masozi replied as she drew a steadying breath.
“Unlock the door whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m on it,” Eve said confidently, and just a few seconds
later she said, “opening in three…two…one…open.”

The door’s mag-locks disengaged and the large, metal door
swung slowly open. Masozi stood by the doorjamb until the opening was wide
enough for her to slip through. But just as she did so, a series of alarms went
off in her helmet’s display.

“Close the door!” Eve shouted, and Masozi did as she was
instructed.

The mag-locks re-engaged and Masozi snapped, “What is it?”

“Stand by,” Eve replied, and Masozi’s left leg suddenly went
numb. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’re going to feel a pinch—“

Masozi’s neck erupted in a fiery sensation on both sides,
and soon her wrists felt the same, burning pain which quickly began to spread
throughout her body.

“Eve, what are you—
“ Masozi
began,
but her words caught when the pain in her torso intensified so greatly that she
actually feared her lungs had just burst.

“Hang on, sugar,” Eve said grimly, “just hang on…”

Masozi’s vision began to black out, and her thoughts turned
sluggish and dull as she focused on the icons displayed inside her helmet. They
were so beautiful, and Masozi wondered why she hadn’t stopped to admire such
simple, marvelous things more often in her life.

“Stay with me, girl!” Eve snapped, and Masozi felt a dull,
throbbing pain radiate up from her left leg as the sexbot’s digital voice
pierced the sudden haze which had come over her thoughts. “You hear me—stay
with me!”

“I’m sooo….tired…” Masozi said, her eyelids drooping. In
spite of the riotous pain she felt throughout her body, all she wanted to do
was sleep.

“Not so fast, girlfriend,” Eve quipped, and Masozi felt her
vision began to narrow as the pain in her left leg intensified. “There we
go…now listen to my words, Masozi, and repeat them back to me.”

“Fine,” Masozi said dreamily. The pain in her torso had
abated, but her left leg felt like it was being bathed in frozen acid. Still,
it was odd that she didn’t seem to mind it too much.

“There’s a nerve agent in the air…say it!” Eve prompted.

“There’s a nerve agent in the air,” Masozi said before
groaning and remembering a similar phrase she had been forced to learn in
primary linguistics, “will this be on the test later?”

“Can it, sweet cheeks,” Even snapped irritably, “say ‘my leg
was exposed to the nerve
agent’.
”

“My leg was exposed to the…” Masozi trailed off as the
gravity of what Eve was telling her sank in. “What happened?!” she blurted, her
senses snapping into focus all at once.

“Good, the drugs are finally working,” Eve said tightly,
“but we don’t have more than eight minutes’ worth of air in this thing. We need
to get to street level—fast. Can you run?”

Masozi tried to stand and test her leg, but while the right
one was fine her left felt like it weight a hundred pounds and didn’t respond
to her commands at all.

“Damn,” Even growled, “your left leg’s already useless. I
can move the suit’s left leg for you, but we’re going to have to be in sync so
we won’t be able to get to a full run. Try to stand, quickly; we’re running out
of time.”

Masozi did as she was instructed and found that, while she
was unsteady, she was able to keep her balance. She took a step forward with
her right leg and Eve soon followed with a clunky, haphazard attempt of her own
with the suit’s left leg motivators.

“Brace against the wall,” Eve instructed, “and let’s open
this door so we can make like a prokaryote and split. We’ll work on our pacing
as we make our way to the nearby access lift here.”

The helmet’s display showed a clear path to what looked like
the lift the amorous couple had inadvertently used to lure the first guard from
his post.

“Got it,” Masozi said, the pain in her leg coming and going
at irregular intervals. She waved her arm in front of the door’s control panel and
it swung open.

As she clung to the wall and exited the room, Masozi saw
several dozen bodies littering the floor. They were all in various, grotesque
reposes with their fingers curled into tight, gnarled, claw-like positions.
Some of the larger ones actually looked to have broken their own backs—an
eventuality Masozi had become familiar with during disaster training back in
New Lincoln.

“Why?” Masozi breathed. “Why would they kill all of these
people?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Eve replied solemnly. “This
was just a slaughter…I don’t understand it.”

Masozi tried to push the horrifying imagery from her mind as
she leaned against the wall for support, skirting the bodies as best she was
able while she and Eve worked to improve their coordination. After a few dozen
steps, Masozi thought she could quicken the pace to a brisk walk.

“I’m getting a transmission fragment,” Eve said quickly,
“I’m working to clean up our reception—whatever you do, don’t stop moving.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Masozi said through
gritted teeth as she slapped the button beside the lift which would summon it
to their location.

“Eve, what’s your status?” Jericho demanded.

“I’m trying to link up with my other half,” Eve replied
tersely. “This isn’t as easy as I make it look, Jericho!”

“Never mind the backtalk,” Jericho growled. “Get Masozi on
the line now; we can wait for your reunion.”

“I’m trying,” Eve shot back before finally saying, “I’ve got
an audio feed established.”

“Investigator?”
Jericho asked
anxiously. “Investigator, if you can read me you need to get to the surface as
quickly as you can. There’s a bioweapon about to be deployed and you’re right
in the middle of the introduction zone. Do you copy?”

The headset’s speakers crackled with static and he shot a
dire look at the console featuring Eve’s virtual avatar. Then he heard a voice
that sounded like Masozi’s on the other end, and he listened intently as her
voice became clearer, “—a lift now.
Nerve toxin in air…dead.
Repeat: everyone is d…”

The signal cut out and Jericho growled, “Get it back, Eve.”

“I won’t even try to explain how I’m doing what I’m doing,
Jericho,” Eve snapped, “but you’re already getting the best I can give.”

The speaker crackled back to life and Jericho listened
intently as Masozi’s voice returned.
“…exiting the lift now.
Only have six minutes of air left before—”

The signal cut out as the speakers crackled loudly. “We’re
being jammed, Jericho,” Eve said with absolute conviction. “Someone is remotely
operating enough gear down there that they just blanketed our frequencies. That
was my last trick; we have to wait until we’ve got line of sight now.”

“She’s in the Keno Coliseum,” Jericho said urgently, “have
her wait in the middle of the domed coliseum. We can land the
Tyson
in
the middle and it will cut down on her travel time—how long until we arrive?”
Eve shook her head silently, and Jericho leaned down next to the display and
yelled, “How long?!”

“Twenty three minutes—I’ve already taken the safety
protocols offline,” she added with a meaningful look. “This shuttle is going as
fast as it can, Jericho. I’ve already sent a data packet with your suggested
extraction plan. But I can’t confirm if my other half got it. If she did,
there’s a chance we can revive Masozi…if not,” she said, turning her virtual
eyes to the floor.

Jericho leaned back in his chair and looked over at the
medic, who had several minutes earlier managed to finish dressing his arm.
“Let’s hope you get another patient today,” Jericho said, knowing that
everything which could have been done had been.

He didn’t want to lose her…it would be a disaster in too
many ways to count.

“Come on,” he whispered under his breath, silently willing
the craft toward its destination. “Hang on, Masozi.”

Chapter XXIX: Bathed in Fire

“We’ve lost our link,” Eve said after they had exited the
lift, “it seems like we’re being jammed locally. Someone doesn’t want any
communications leaving this city.”

“I wonder why,” Masozi growled as she fought her way to the
nearest junction. There were hundreds of bodies lying in similar states as the
ones outside Governor Keno’s dressing room, but Masozi knew she didn’t have
time to mourn them just yet.

“Wait a moment,” Eve said as Masozi made her way toward the
exit Eve had previously highlighted. “Change of plans, babe,” she said, and
Masozi’s exit path shifted until it was redirected to the heart of the
coliseum, “this destination gives us the highest survival chance.”

“But that’s inside the coliseum,” Masozi argued.

“No time to explain, honey,” Eve quipped, “if you want to
live then you’ll follow the route.”

Masozi growled wordlessly as the pain in her leg shot up and
seemingly through her body, causing her to twist in a violent, uncontrolled
spasm.

“Hang on, girl,” Eve said quickly, and the pain abated along
with the spasm, “I’m trying to ration our drugs; we’ve only got a limited
supply.”

“You’re doing great, Eve,” Masozi said, actually believing
it as she hauled herself along the wall toward the coliseum’s nearest entry
arch. She stepped inside and, although she fought through the waves of emotion,
she was brought to tears at the sight which greeted her eyes.

Literally thousands of people, of all ages and walks of
life, lay dead within the coliseum. Many of them were still in their seats, and
the magnitude of the crime which had been committed against the people of
Philippa—no, against humanity itself—was literally beyond her ability to
comprehend.

She tore her gaze from the epic tragedy which had unfolded
around her and made her way to the stage at the dome’s center—a stage where the
people had only minutes earlier been celebrating their beloved Governor.

“Stay over here,” Eve urged. “And sit down, girl…this next part’s
going to get rough.”

“What do you mean?” Masozi asked as she slowly lowered
herself to the ground behind a heavy, metal framework of scaffolding.

“I only got a partial data packet,” Eve explained as the
pressure around Masozi’s left leg intensified, but this time she was fairly
certain that it had been caused by the suit rather than the neurotoxins
coursing through her system, “but Jericho’s on his way with the shuttle and our
best chance is to wait for them here. Still…they’re nineteen minutes away and
we’ve only got another three minutes of breathable air in this thing.”

“So lower the oxygen content,” Masozi said quickly as she
fought to control her breathing in the face of Eve’s revelation.

“Already on it,” Eve assured her, “but that’s not where the
trouble ends…I need your permission to cut off blood flow to both of your legs
and
your arms.”

“Twenty minutes without blood flow…” Masozi thought,
remembering what she had learned about tissue perfusion during her first aid
training, “that’s right on the edge, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Eve agreed gravely, “but it’s the only way to give
you a reasonable chance to survive. If we make it back to the
Zhuge Liang
they might be able to counteract the damage…”

“Do it,” Masozi said quickly, knowing that each second that
passed without a decision decreased her apparently slim chance at survival.

“You got it,” Eve said, and all four of Masozi’s limbs felt
like they were being crushed by the suit’s pressure cuffs—or whatever it used
in situations like this. “I’m sorry about the pain, girlfriend,” Eve said
heavily, “but I’m giving you a sedative so you won’t panic as your oxygen
levels diminish.”

“Thank you, Eve,” Masozi said, instantly regretful of the
many times she had derided the quasi-intelligent program.

“Don’t mention it, sweetie,” Eve replied. “Just try to relax
and I’ll manage your biorhythms the best I can while we wait for the others. It
helps the process if you count backward from one hundred.”

“One hundred, ninety nine, ninet…” Masozi trailed off as her
world spiraled into darkness.

“One minute to touchdown,” Eve reported as Jericho and the
medic worked to get their containment suits checked out.

“You’re cleared, sir,” the medic reported after checking Jericho’s
back-side seals. The medic then turned around and Jericho inspected his suit’s
seals.

After he was satisfied, Jericho nodded, “You’re clear.”
Jericho then turned and leaned into the cockpit as the
Neil deGrasse Tyson
slewed around the coliseum while
braking
its momentum
as much as it could, “Make a hole, Eve.”

“With pleasure,” she replied and the
Tyson
’s light
cannons tore into the flimsy, ceramic panels which comprised the coliseum’s
dome. Those panels shattered in an ever-widening spiral as Eve piloted the
craft down, lifting the nose at the last instant before the shuttle crashed
through the roof panels and sent several thousand of the meter-square pieces
crashing into the stage below.

“I’ve got her,” Eve said as she settled the
Tyson
down near one of the main stairwells, “Eve’s reporting Masozi’s life signs are
faint. She’s been out of oxygen for three minutes.”

“Move!”
Jericho snapped as the door
swung open, and before the
Tyson
had even touched down both the medic
and Jericho were already on the floor of the facility and sprinting toward
Masozi.

They knelt one to either side of her armored, motionless
form, and they each wrapped an armored arm around their necks and Jericho
struggled mightily with the use of only one hand, but they managed to get her
upright and hauled her back to the shuttle.

After nearly forty seconds the door to the
Tyson
closed behind them, and Jericho snapped, “Initiate atmospheric purge, Eve.”

“Already on it,” she replied as the
Neil deGrasse Tyson
pulled up and began its ascent out of Keno Coliseum. Several tense seconds
passed as the gases inside the craft were vented, during which time the suits
which Jericho and the medic wore ballooned out. “Atmosphere purged; introducing
purifying agents now,” Eve reported, and after a few more seconds the pressure
inside the cabin began to climb, “no contaminants detected, Jericho. The air is
clean.”

Jericho and the medic tore their bulky, obtrusive helmets
off and as they did so Masozi’s armor began to unlock at several dozen points before
opening to reveal the woman within.

Her left leg was swollen and had a large gash to the outside
of her thigh, and the skin of her fingertips had already begun to turn
purplish-black.

Before Jericho could even press him to do so, the medic
began administering a series of injections directly into Masozi’s heart. “What
can I do?” he asked, having already gone over the potential procedures but
finding himself impatient for the medic’s diagnosis. The treatments ranged from
manipulating her limbs to improve blood flow, to essentially doing nothing if
her brain had already been oxygen-starved for too long.

“Wait,” the medic replied tersely.

Jericho was about to protest, but the man gave him a cold,
flinty look.

“I said ‘wait’,” he growled as he continued to administer
the medications. After the sixth injection, he took out a portable
defibrillator and began to calibrate it before gesturing to Masozi’s torso,
“Remove her clothing; I need exposed skin.”

Jericho reached down with his remaining hand before realizing
he needed something else to manipulate the garment. He leaned down and bit the
collar of the bodyglove between his teeth and unzipped her one-piece jumpsuit
until her bare torso was exposed.

The medic wasted no time applying the leads to several points
across her chest, and when he had done so Masozi’s body twitched just enough to
notice. The medic examined the readout and pressed the activation icon again,
causing Masozi’s body to twitch even more.

Jericho felt helpless in that moment so he sat back against
the bench where he had ‘hidden’ the nuclear bomb Masozi had ‘discovered.’ He
knew that in his current state he would be less than helpful, and was actually
relieved to hear Eve say, “Jericho, I need you to get up here. We’ve got a
problem.”

Jericho stood and climbed into the cockpit. “What is it?” he
asked as he checked the various instruments.

“Engine Two is down,” she replied. “We can still break
orbit, but that’s not the problem.” A nearby console’s display switched over to
show a huge warship on an apparent approach vector. “It’s the
Alexander
,”
she reported grimly. “They’ve jammed our communications with the
Zhuge Liang
;
I’m still on course for our rendezvous coordinates but we’re going to be late
given our engine trouble.”

Jericho knew the
Alexander
by reputation, since it
was the only Battle Carrier ever commissioned in the Virgin System. It was the
unquestioned flagship of Virgin’s SDF, and the pride and joy of the System’s
entire military. It served not only as a mobile battle platform of unparalleled
power, but as the Virgin Central Military’s headquarters and base of
operations.

Seeing the massive vessel bearing down on them with what
looked to be several dozen fighters—a mere fraction of its maximum
complement—flanking it in formation, Jericho couldn’t help but feel a twinge of
good, old-fashioned, terror as the awesome engine of war bore down on them.

“Time to weapons range?”
Jericho
asked levelly.

“At most, two minutes before we make rendezvous,” Even
replied matter-of-factly. “I might be able to speed things up but I don’t have
the runtimes necessary to fly the ship and fix the engine at the same time.”

“Why don’t you recombine with the other Eve?” Jericho
pressed as he strapped himself into the chair. Even one-handed, he was fairly
confident he could fly the little shuttle passably enough to get them where
they were going—so long as it didn’t turn into a dogfight with one of those
fighters.

“I can’t do that,” she replied as she began to relinquish
control over the
Tyson
’s systems to Jericho’s station, “Benton
hard-coded some control measures into my program before sending me out with
you. He says separating my program was risky enough and that he would have to
oversee the recombination personally.”

“Good enough for me,” Jericho said as he began to manipulate
the
Tyson
’s trajectory. “Keep me posted on the repairs—and see what you
can do about establishing a point-to-point with the
Zhuge Liang
.”

“Will do,” she said before her tiny, digital image vanished
from the cockpit’s display.

“Wait, Eve,” Jericho said quickly almost as soon as she had
disappeared.

“Yes, Jericho?” she said, her image partially reappearing on
the screen.

“What about the bioweapon,” he pressed, “has it already been
deployed?”

Eve’s virtual eyes snapped back and forth and she cocked her
head uncertainly, “Dispersal projections say the nerve toxin will have wiped
out nearly two thirds of the city’s population already.” She shook her head,
“But I didn’t read any evidence of the virus Captain Charles mentioned. That
doesn’t mean it’s not there since this ship’s sensors are too limited for a
detailed analysis, but I haven’t detected anything just yet.”

It wasn’t what Jericho had wanted to hear, but it was more
than he had known. Eve’s calculations suggested that some four hundred thousand
people were already dead in Abaca, and the nerve toxin was likely not quite
done working its evil on Philippa’s unsuspecting populace.

Jericho looked over his shoulder at the medic, who was
manipulating Masozi’s arms and right leg. A wave of relief washed over Jericho
in that moment, as he concluded that the medic had deemed a recovery still
possible.

Just as he turned back to face the instruments on the dash,
a nearby comm. screen flickered to life. “Jericho, do you read?”

“I’ve got you, Jeff,” Jericho replied quickly, relieved to
hear his cousin’s voice. “What’s your status?”

“We’re almost in position for the containment strike,” Jeff
replied quickly, “do you have confirmation of the bioweapon’s deployment?”

Jericho shook his head grimly. “A nerve gas was released in
the city, but we’ve seen nothing of the virus,” he said as he struggled to
fight the craft through a bout of severe turbulence. “Eve says two thirds of
the city’s already dead from the gas.”

“Are we still ‘
go
’ for
containment?” Jeff asked, and his image began to flicker as static washed over
his last word.

Jericho didn’t hesitate to reply, “Yes, you are ‘
go
’ for containment. Do you read me? You are ‘
go
’ for containment.”

The screen flickered for a moment and then Jeff’s image
returned as he nodded, “I read you: mission is ‘go.’ I hope we’re right about
this.”

“Me too,” Jericho replied heavily. “What’s your time to
launch?”

“Twenty seconds,” the
Zhuge Liang
’s captain said,
“after that we’re going to intercept you and then get the hell out of here
before the
Alexander
comes into range.
Kongming
fights way above
her weight,” he said with a shake of his head, referring to the
Zhuge Liang
by the nickname which its crew had taken to using, “but we’re no match for the
biggest warship in the Sector. Adjust your heading to the following and we’ll
rendezvous after we’ve contained the outbreak, Charles out.”

Another display showed a course adjustment, and Jericho
steered the
Tyson
along that path as he mentally counted down from
Charles’ stated twenty second interval. When he reached three seconds
remaining, Jericho banked the shuttle so he could see the city below.