Zero Page 6

  ɵ

  Webb watched Hugo as Spinn and Rami went through the details of the command centre’s third floor and the research labs. The captain sat stiffly in his chair with his arms folded, eyes fixed on the display, back and shoulders tense. Webb was sure he could see his jaw muscles working and he didn't appear to blink.

  “I estimate the total time scale to be three hours, maximum,” Spinn concluded, tucking his display marker back in his pocket. “The Zero should plan to be back at the drop point exactly three hours from mission start to collect the ground team. I estimate there will be a window of about ten minutes before the ship will have to retreat again.”

  “Ten minutes?” More said. “Anywhere else close by suitable for an emergency meet point, just in case?”

  Everyone looked to the display. Spinn scrolled back and forth.

  “What's that?” asked Webb, pointing.

  Rami peered closer, zooming in. “It's not marked on the official map. Scans read concrete. As I said, this area featured pretty heavily in that last land war. It's probably a disused bunker.”

  “That'll do. You got those co-ordinates?” Webb said. More nodded.

  “We may have a problem,” Bolt mumbled.

  “Oh?” Webb asked, looking at the crewman, who stood against the wall scowling at the display.

  “That drop-off point,” he said, pointing, “I don't much like my chance of piloting the Zero in and out of that shit-nest of sensors on my own.”

  Webb blinked back at the display. “Shit.”

  Hugo frowned. “Who can do it?”

  “Me or More,” Webb said, rubbing his chin. “Unless... Sub...”

  Sub shook his head. “Not me, Commander. I could get a fighter through that mess, but not the Zero.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “So we'll have to re-think the ground team,” Hugo said, turning in his chair.

  “Webb has to go,” Rami said. “He's the only one who can hack the data.”

  “Aren't you the systems expert, Lieutenant?” Hugo asked.

  “Rami needs to stay on the Zero to help Spinn monitor the surveillance net,” Webb said. “They have electronic scans as well as everything else so we'll have to maintain comm silence. The only sign that the ground team are in trouble will be if there's a change in the network activity.”

  “I'll go with you, Commander,” Kinjo said, leaning forward, eyes wide. “You said I was ready for fieldwork.”

  Webb felt a smile tug at his mouth. “I was thinking fieldwork like making deals with points and reps, Kinjo. Not Red-Level infiltration.”

  “I can do it, Zeek,” she said, voice rising. “I can. I can ride, I know systems, I can use the tech.”

  “No, midshipman,” Webb said, laying a hand flat on the table. “Soon, I promise. But not this.”

  “I'll go.”

  Webb turned to look at Hugo, feeling his heart sink. “Captain, you're joking.”

  “I'm not sending anyone down alone and we seem to have run out of crew.”

  “Sub -”

  Hugo stood. “No disrespect meant to Crewman Subune or Crewman Bolt, but this is a stealth mission, yes?”

  Webb swallowed, looked over at the two hulking crewmen who were looking at each other. “Stealth's not our game, Webb.”

  Webb ran his hands through his hair. Hugo was right, of course. That just made it worse. “No. We'll just have to think again. Maybe there's another approach -”

  “We've been here over an hour,” Hugo said. “The plan is laid and we're on a deadline.”

  “This is not something you can just do, Captain,” Webb said.

  “I was taught infiltration techniques at the Academy, Commander.”

  “It's not the same,” Webb said. “The Academy's tactics are for open warfare-”

  “How would you know?”

  Webb blinked up at him. Hugo's face was hard but there was a glint in his eye. Webb peered at him, trying to figure out if it was the argument or excitement that had put it there.

  “Take me to the hold,” Hugo continued. “Show me the tech you have lined up and we'll go over the details.”

  Webb covered his face with his hands. “Christ Almighty. Why me?”

  “Commander. We are on a deadline.”

  “Very well, Captain,” Webb said, standing. He didn't look round, though he felt all the crew's eyes on him. “Follow me. I hope to God you know what you're doing.”

  “A little faith wouldn't go amiss, Commander,” Hugo said as they left the galley.

  “I asked you about faith in Tranquillity, Captain,” Webb muttered. “As I recall, you near as much told me to shove it up my ass.”

  “Just lead the way, Commander.”

  Webb shook his head and led the way down to the hold.

  ɵ

  Webb sat on the darkened bridge hours later, gazing out into the inky vastness beyond the viewscreen. The arch of black nothing, only made more empty by the pricks of stars, rendered him infinitesimal. It soothed him. He sipped more of his bitter coffee, feeling it gnaw at his throat. It was next to silent, only the hum of life support to be heard, so he easily picked up the soft footfall behind the command chair.

  “You're up late,” he said.

  “Just going over the last few bits,” Rami murmured and Webb heard her slotting her computer panel into a port on the workstation behind him. “What are you doing up? I thought this was More's watch.”

  Webb swallowed the last mouthful of the coffee. “As Thomas seems able to sleep through Bolt's snoring, I thought it only fair to let him.”

  Rami came round into view. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid for the night cycle, strands of it hanging loose around her face. The light of the starlit nothing painted her face and its quiet smile in delicate highlights and soft shadow. “Did he not use the mouth spray I gave him?”

  Webb shrugged. “You'd have to ask him.”

  She smiled, then leant in and kissed him, long and slow. He could smell her hair, clean and warm. She tasted of nightmint. He sighed into her mouth and felt her smile against him.

  “I thought we weren't doing this any more?” he murmured when she broke away.

  She settled herself in his lap, pushed his long hair back from his face. “You're worried.”

  “Let's run away, Anita,” he whispered, quirking a grin. “You and me. We'll run away to Earth and find a house near water. River or sea, I don't give a shit. Just so long as we can swim. We'll swim every morning and eat real fish and food we've grown ourselves.”

  Even in the dim light he could see the sadness in her smile. She ran a thumb over his cheekbone. “Are you worried about Hugo?” she asked. “Or Marilyn?”

  Webb sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her closer to him and tucked his face into her neck. She put an arm round him, rested her cheek against his hair and just held him there. He let the warmth of her skin seep into his own and just breathed in her smell. For a while there was nothing but the sound of their breathing.

  “You should get some sleep,” she said eventually, seemingly realising he wouldn't answer her question. He nodded into her neck but didn't move. “Come on, Commander,” she insisted, getting up and pulling on his hand. “We head to Earth in a few hours. Besides, I don't want to be around if the captain comes through and finds you in his chair.”

  Webb snorted. “Neither do I.”

  “Do you want me to get you something to help you sleep?”

  Webb shook his head, letting her pull him to his feet. “No, I'll be fine,” he said. He smiled and put a hand on her cheek. “Anita...”

  “It's okay, Zeek,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “I'll take this watch. Go.”

  He looked at her a moment longer, swallowing against the heat in his throat, then nodded and went back towards the crew cabin. Getting into his bunk, he lay in the dark, staring at the dark bulkhead and listening to his crewmates breathing.

  He only knew he'd finally managed to fall a
sleep when the lights turned on and the computerised alarm woke him a few hours later. He heard Bolt curse and cough in the bunk above his and More and Sub stirring on the other side of the cabin. He quickly tucked his crucifix back inside his shirt and sat up, rubbing his sore eyes. He mumbled one last prayer as he rose and left the cabin to pad down to the galley for a breakfast he didn't want but knew he needed.

  IV

  The motorbike felt bulky and unfamiliar. Hugo gripped the handles tightly, imagining that his knuckles were white inside the gloves. Taking a deep breath, he tried to dispel the returning flicker of nerves twitching over his skin.

  “You're gonna have to loosen up, Captain,” Webb said, adjusting his goggles. “You stay that tense you'll floor yourself the minute we hit the dirt.”

  Hugo glowered. Webb straddled his huge black motorbike with an almost obscene ease. He was pulling on his own gloves as the Zero shuddered around them. Still gripping the bike's handles, Hugo shifted his balance again and stared ahead at the hatch. The display on the inside of the bike's windscreen was showing the map of the AI command centre and its surroundings – contour lines, surveillance web and all. Hugo went over their route yet again, mumbling co-ordinates to himself.

  There was another almighty shudder and then a clank as the hatch opened. With a hiss, the hold filled with Earth air.

  “Ready, Hugo?” Webb said, once again pulling on the battered black baseball cap.

  “Go.”

  His face unreadable under the cap and the goggles, Webb cast him a single glance, then gunned his engine. The noise made Hugo tense but then Webb was moving out. Hugo took one more breath and followed. He blinked as he emerged into weak, winter sunshine, his goggles taking a moment to adjust to the light. The bike hit the earth with a jerk that knocked his breath from him. His heart was pounding already, but he kept his eyes ahead and felt the bike gather power and tear along the ground.

  With a throb of air, a blast of heat and a belch of heaving metal the Zero lurched back towards the sky. Webb was already across the clearing and entering the trees. Hugo pushed the accelerator to try and catch up, forcing his breath to come calmly. The natural air of Earth made him giddy for a moment but he pushed himself past it, forcing himself to focus.

  His goggles lightened again as he moved into the shadows beneath the trees. Webb was just ahead, twisting and turning between the trees like he'd done the route a thousand times. Hugo only dared cast a glance or two at the display and to make sure they were keeping on track. The sound of the engines was sickeningly loud to his ears, but there didn't seem to be another living being in sight.

  Webb kept their speed up and soon the ground beneath them began to rise, and Hugo could see light up ahead. The mountain road was coming up, but Webb did not slow down. Hugo couldn't get the breath to shout at his commander. He looked at his display and saw the bike's sensors weren't picking up any nearby traffic but as Webb tore out onto the open road Hugo's heart lurched into his mouth.

  He had no choice but to follow. The road went by in a blur and a moment of blissful smoothness and then they were off road again on the other side, still bearing north and weaving between the trees. Hugo gradually felt himself sink into the way the bike moved, leaning into its canter a little further and daring a bit more speed. Webb adjusted their route as they went, but kept to the edge of the sensor boundaries marked on the display. The ground rose steeper and steeper and Hugo saw they were making good time.

  Still, he didn't allow himself to think about the next bit but just concentrated on keeping up with Webb and not crashing. Time became a jumbled and fractured thing made of nothing but the jerking movement of the bike over the uneven ground, the smell of leaf mould mingled with the bike's fumes, and the insistent hammering of his heart.

  Eventually, after cresting a particularly steep rise, his goggles darkened again as they emerged into another clearing. Webb slowed and pulled his bike round to face south and cut the engine. Hugo pulled up beside him, slightly less skilfully. When he cut his bike's engine for a minute all he was aware of was the pounding of blood in his ears and the earthiness in the air that he tasted with every heaving breath.

  “Still with me, Captain?”

  Hugo nodded, feeling his breathing gradually calm. He studied the display on his screen and compared it to the readings on his wrist panel. “We're early.”

  Webb nodded, stretching. “Aye, Captain. We're out of range though. Just be ready.”

  Hugo looked again at the route marked on the display in front of him and the timer in the corner. This was the route he himself had scribbled on the display in the galley, the route that should get them right up to the boundary wall. Assuming they'd got the timing of the foot patrol right. And assuming their scans of the sensors' scope had been accurate. And that Hugo could keep on course.

  “Christ,” Webb murmured.

  “What?” said Hugo, snapping his head up.

  “It's just...” Webb pulled off his goggles and gestured out in front of them with a wide sweep of his arm.

  “What?” Hugo repeated.

  “It gets me every time,” Webb said, shaking his head. Hugo peered out over the spread of the landscape in front of them. Dark pine rolled down in every direction. There was hardly a break in the thick green apart from the odd cratered clearing further downhill. The peak of the next mountain rose against the horizon, the trees at this distance looking like a deep, green carpet. The sky was an arch of clear grey above them. The breeze ruffled the trees and brought a fresh wave of pine and cold earth.

  The chill made Hugo shiver, despite the boiler suit, long coat and gloves. “What gets you? Trees?”

  Webb made an impatient noise. “Not just trees. Everything. The green. The life. Fuck, the smell of it. Of Earth. Do you mean to say you were actually born here?”

  Hugo frowned. “Not here.” He glanced about once more at the chilly, leafy clearing and then went back to studying his display. “Sydney.”

  “Service Headquarters, huh? Figures. Not a lot of forest there, I'm guessing?”

  Hugo shook his head, checking his gun again in his shoulder holster. The countdown ticked lower and he felt his heartbeat starting to rise again.

  “What about at the Academy?”

  Hugo looked up again at the rolling view. “The Highlands are more like this. But we only went into the forests on training manoeuvres.”

  “Well,” Webb said with a grin, pulling his goggles back on and adjusting his cap. “Guess we're about to find out if you got your credit's worth. Ready?”

  Hugo swallowed. “Ready.”

  “Stay close, Captain,” Webb said, then his engine was roaring again and he was off down the slope. Hugo pushed the starter button on his own bike. It roared to life and he followed.

  The angles of their trajectory tightened. Struggling to control the bike, Hugo almost pulled it over twice. His teeth were hammering together as they sped over the bumpy terrain and his hands were starting to sweat inside their gloves. But he rode the wave of adrenaline and used it to anchor him. Webb managed to keep them on course to an alarming degree of accuracy, but he still expected gunshots to start exploding around him or alarms to sound any moment.

  Between the gaps in the trees ahead he could see the gleam of metal. Their route got even more erratic. They got closer and closer until Webb finally slowed. They crept the bikes along the last few feet. Their route had brought them up to a dense thicket of younger pines, and they pulled up behind the shield of the trees and cut the engines.

  For a while they just sat there and listened. Sounds of the base – voices, engines and the hum of electricity – filtered through to them, but nothing close by or out of the ordinary. Hugo let out a shuddering breath, feeling his shoulders relax.

  “Don't let up yet, Captain,” Webb whispered. “That was the easy bit.”

  Hugo followed Webb's example and pulled off his goggles, stowing them in one of the pouches on his utility belt. They dusted off their clothes –
Kinjo had supplied them both with black boiler suits, the sort worn by generic maintenance and tech crews across the whole Orbit – double-checked the contents of their belts and pockets, triple-checked their weapons and then moved to the edge of the thicket. Hugo hung back as Webb peered around the side.

  “Gotta hand it to you, Captain,” he mumbled. “You got us pretty damned close. I can smell the fuckers.”

  “What's the situation, Commander?” Hugo said.

  Webb scanned the scene a moment longer then ducked back behind cover. “Looks like we've just missed the patrol. Guess it's his lucky day.”

  “Can you see the sensor hubs?”

  Webb peered round again. He checked his wrist display then nodded. “Our readings are right. We should be able to get down into a blind spot if we stick close to the trees and stay on a direct line.” Webb leaned back and flashed another grin. “Guess it's our lucky day too. You ready?”

  Hugo swallowed and nodded.

  Webb took a breath of his own and stepped around the edge of the trees. Hugo followed so close he was almost stepping on his heels. He copied Webb when the Commander crouched, creeping up to the next tree bent almost double. He moved so lightly that his boots didn't even snap twigs. It seemed painfully slow going and yet all too soon they were at the last of the trees, the wall a mere five feet away. Hugo gazed up it, the cool grey merging with the sky over their heads. Squinting, he could see the red beams of the sensor web strung across the top.

  Webb nudged him in the ribs. Hugo blinked at him and he gestured towards the wall.

  Ready? He mouthed. Hugo nodded.

  Hugo took a deep breath when Webb did and stepped out from behind the tree. The feeling of exposure was palpable, like dampness on his skin. Pulling out their grips, he and Webb strapped them on as they approached the wall. Webb exchanged one swift glance with him, then placed his right, followed by his left hand onto the smooth metal of the wall above his head. The grips took hold and with a strength that Hugo couldn't help but admire, the tall commander was then heaving himself up, twisting one grip off the wall, and reaching further up to re-attach it and repeat. He touched the toes of his boots to the metal, the magnets in them giving him some foothold, and he was soon setting a swift rhythm up the wall.