Mass Effect: The Complete Novels 4-Book Bundle (79 page)

With his mind made up, he didn’t waste any more time. Moving quickly, he passed through the docking ramp and airlocks and into what was obviously a security clearance room.

Two bodies lay on the floor: one male, one female. A quick inspection revealed they had been killed with a knife. The fact that Grayson hadn’t simply crushed them with some type of biotic power gave Kai Leng hope; it could mean his enemy was exhausted and possibly even vulnerable.

He felt the familiar spark of excitement flickering deep inside him. At heart he was a killer, a predator. He lived for the chase. And the hunt was about to begin.

The Reapers were being cautious. Methodical. There was no need to hurry, so they didn’t.

Eager to avoid unnecessary confrontations, they set Grayson off on a winding, circuitous route through the halls of the Academy, using the schematics they had downloaded from the guard station. It was night on the station, so they chose a route that passed by empty offices rather than dorm rooms where students would be sleeping.

With the blanket still wrapped tightly around his body, Grayson was nothing more than a passenger along for the ride. He was grateful their route kept them from running into anyone else, however. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if one of the students happened to stumble across them.

Eventually they reached the door of the Ascension Project’s primary research laboratory. The door was closed, but the Reapers knew that the data archives for the entire project were stored in the room beyond.

They had Grayson lean forward and press his ear against the portal. Through the door and the blanket, his hypersensitive hearing picked up voices coming
from the other side. Scientists working late, most likely.

They let the bloodstained blanket fall to the floor, then hit the panel to open the door. It slid back to reveal what was quite clearly a research lab. A bank of computer stations lined one wall. The opposite wall contained shelves of biological samples taken from the students to monitor their health and progress. In the back corner were various pieces of expensive equipment used to analyze the samples, as well as the electronic data collected weekly from the implants of every child in the program.

Two men and a woman occupied the room. One of the men was seated at a computer station, his chair turned away from the screens as he conversed with the other man and the woman. She was smiling knowingly, as if she’d just made a joke; the two men were laughing out loud.

All three turned in Grayson’s direction as he came in. Their expressions transformed from laughter to fear, though it was impossible to say whether the cause was Grayson’s mutated appearance or the twin pistols he carried.

The Reapers fired three shots in rapid succession. Each bullet was perfectly placed in the exact center of the forehead, causing instantaneous death. The three researchers fell to the floor, their lives forfeit simply because they had chosen this particular night to put in a few hours of overtime.

Standing perfectly still, the Reapers listened for the sound of any response to the three pistol shots that had echoed in the room. There were no cries of alarm from down the hall; there were no sounds of running
footsteps. Satisfied that the obstacles had been eliminated without alerting anyone else on the station, the Reapers turned and casually hit the panel to close the door.

In the back of the lab was another door; beyond it were the data archives. The archives consisted of an OSD library and server array that contained every reading and every result from every test on every student who had ever participated in the Ascension Project.

Not surprisingly, the door to the data archives was locked. Access to the information was restricted to only a handful of senior staff on the project, and required a keycard, access code, and biological identification confirmed via voice and retinal scans. It took the Reapers less than two minutes to hack the door open.

Once inside, the Reapers began to access the data using the lone terminal in the room. As the information flickered on the screen, Grayson scanned it, processed it, and transmitted it instantaneously back to his Reaper overlords in dark space.

The sensation was unlike anything Grayson had ever experienced. It was exhilarating. Intoxicating. Euphoric. Even a red sand high couldn’t compare with the rush of being a conduit for pure data transmission.

But it was also taxing. Draining. Exhausting. Transmitting trillions of terabytes of data required a tremendous output of energy, and the Reapers knew their avatar was already weak. So they went slowly, taking their time, careful not to destroy their precious vessel.

“We’ve got an emergency,” Kahlee said as she burst into the guard station closest to the security clearance room, slightly out of breath from running the entire way.

“Three of you come with me. The other two go alert the other guard stations and put the whole Academy on stage-four lockdown.”

Hendel Mitra, the former security chief at the Grissom Academy, had been a close personal friend of Kahlee’s. His successor, Captain Ellen Jimenez, was a capable replacement, but Kahlee and she had never formed the same close, personal bond. Fortunately, she still respected Kahlee enough not to question her when she burst into the guard station and started barking out orders to the staff.

“Jackson and M’gabi,” the new security chief said, nodding at two of her people, “go warn the others. Seal off this wing—nobody gets in or out.”

Turning to Kahlee she said, “Lead the way.”

The fact that Jimenez had been on duty was pure coincidence. Racing down the hall toward the Ascension wing, Kahlee couldn’t help but wonder if the other security personnel would have been as quick to listen to her if they hadn’t seen their supervisor so easily falling into step.

We’re going to need a few more lucky breaks if we want to get out of this alive
, Kahlee thought.

“What’s going on?” Jimenez asked as she ran beside her.

Not wanting to go into the whole story, Kahlee decided to stick to the details that mattered. “Someone infiltrated the station. We have to evacuate the Ascension
Project dorms. Get the children somewhere safe.”

“The cafeteria,” Jimenez suggested. “Get everyone inside, and reinforce the room with as many security personnel as we can spare.”

“Good idea,” Kahlee replied.

When they reached the dorms, they had to split up. There were three separate student halls, plus a fourth for the faculty. Jimenez dispatched her people with the calm, cool efficiency of a true leader.

“Giller, take the far hall. Malkin, the one next to it.”

“Don’t let anyone out of your sight,” Kahlee warned them. “Not even the staff. We’ve already had two casualties.”

She didn’t offer the names, uncertain what effect it might have. To the credit of Jimenez and her staff, they didn’t ask.

“Rendezvous back at the cafeteria,” Jimenez called after the others as they ran off. “The same goes for you,” she said, turning to Kahlee. “Are you armed?”

“Got a knife in my boot.”

Jimenez glanced down at the splints on her fingers.

“Can you fire a pistol with those things?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” Kahlee replied.

Jimenez unclipped the gun from her side and offered it to Kahlee anyway.

“Just in case,” she said before rushing off to start rousing the children from their beds.

Kahlee awkwardly tucked the pistol into her belt, then hurried over to the closest room. She opened the door and flicked on the light to find Nick asleep in his
bed. The teenager rolled over and looked at her with the confusion of someone still half asleep.

“Get up, Nick,” she said. “Right now. Hurry.”

“What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“Please, Nick. Just get up and meet me in the hall right away.”

Not waiting for a response, she went to the next door and repeated the process.

Within five minutes she had all sixteen students following her to the cafeteria.

“Miss Sanders,” Nick said, falling into step beside her. “What’s going on?”

He’d pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt after she’d woken him up, but his dark hair was still a tangled, uncombed mess.

“Not in front of the children,” she replied, knowing he’d be less likely to argue if he felt like she was treating him like an adult.

“Gotcha,” he replied, his chest puffing out just a little.

Even in these dire circumstances, Kahlee couldn’t help but let a quick smile slip at his reaction.

They were the third group to arrive in the cafeteria. Jimenez showed up with the fourth a few seconds later.

Everyone was milling about, confused and a little alarmed. Being roused from slumber by armed guards—even guards meant to protect you—was more than a little frightening.

“What do we tell them?” Jimenez wanted to know.

“Listen up!” Kahlee called out, projecting her voice so everyone could hear. “Nobody is allowed to leave
this room without permission from me or Captain Jimenez.”

She paused, and there was an instant onslaught of questions, mostly from the other members of the staff. “What’s going on?” … “How long do we have to stay here?” … “Are we in danger?”

Kahlee wasn’t about to tell them the whole story. It would take too long, and they probably wouldn’t believe her anyway. And if they did believe her, it might cause panic.

“It’s possible we have an abduction scenario in progress,” she continued, shouting to be heard above everyone else. “We haven’t confirmed that yet, but we’re not taking any chances.”

The threat of a student being kidnapped was something everyone in the room could easily accept and understand. Every child at the Grissom Academy was special in some way. In addition to the biotics of the Ascension Project, the school had a high proportion of academic geniuses and artistic prodigies, as well as a large number of children with parents rich and influential enough to get their offspring onto the enrollment list of the best school in Alliance space.

“We have security forces clearing this wing, but until they’re done you all have to stay here where it’s safe,” Kahlee continued. “You might be here all night, so try to get comfortable.”

As she spoke, Jimenez glanced over at her with a curious look. The security captain wasn’t buying the story, not completely. She knew her people weren’t scouring the halls looking for an unauthorized intruder.

Kahlee considered pulling her aside and asking for her help in tracking down Grayson. But more armed guards in the cafeteria meant a better chance of keeping the children safe. And she was still clinging to the hope there might be some way to end this without further bloodshed. She was convinced some part of Grayson was still alive inside him; if she could get through to him, she could get him to surrender so they could try to help him. If Jimenez joined the hunt for Grayson, however, it would almost certainly end with either Jimenez’s death or his.

“I have to go,” Kahlee told her. “Make sure nobody leaves until I give you the all-clear.”

It was obvious Jimenez wanted to say something, but she just bit her lip and nodded in acknowledgment.

“I better go with you,” a voice behind her said, the manly timbre cracking on the last word.

Kahlee turned to find Nick standing there.

“I’m the strongest biotic at the school,” he reminded her. “I can help you stop these kidnappers.”

“I need you to stay here with Captain Jimenez,” Kahlee told him. “Keeping the children safe is the most important thing.”

“I’m not stupid,” Nick told her. “You’re just saying that so I won’t feel bad you’re leaving me behind.”

“She’s leaving me behind, too,” Jimenez reminded him.

“Whatever,” Nick replied, turning away from them and trudging off to disappear into the crowd.

“He has a point,” Jimenez noted once he was gone.
“Whatever’s going on, you shouldn’t be heading out there without backup.”

“I’ll manage,” Kahlee assured her, slipping out the cafeteria door to avoid further argument.

A second later she heard Jimenez barking out orders.

“Come on, everyone. Don’t all crowd around the doors. Find somewhere to sit and we’ll bring drinks around to the tables.”

Satisfied the cafeteria was in good hands, Kahlee set off at a brisk jog, heading in the direction of the data archives.

The station was on an Earth-standard day/night cycle, meaning the offices that Anderson passed were all dark. The overhead illumination in the halls had been dimmed to conserve energy while most of the people on board were sleeping.

On reaching the entrance to the Ascension wing, he’d studied the map long enough to commit it to memory. Then he began to make a slow, cautious trek toward the data archives.

Time was of the essence, but he knew carelessness and impatience had killed more soldiers than any other enemy. Even though his enviro-suit was equipped with kinetic barriers, he had no intention of walking into an ambush. He hugged the walls as he went, hiding in the shadows. He poked his head around every corner, warily scanning the halls for signs of the man he was hunting.