Overdrive (23 page)

“Yes of course.
But why?”

“If we can’t access
the local net, we’re being blocked and the only reason we’d be blocked is if
someone didn’t want us to call help,” explained Tarquin.

“Meaning?” asked
his Holiness.

“We’re about to
have company.”

Five Nephillim,
riding in a hired AG cart, made their way through the cavernous docking area of
Fever’s spaceport. Instructed by the Nephillim Captain, it stopped a few meters
away from the fish shaped
Debacherous Weekend
. They waited while another
AG cart, its occupants seemingly intent on some errand and dressed in
maintenance overalls, flew past.

“Open it,"
ordered the Captain.

One of the
Nephillim had come equipped with an AG harness. While the rest of the Nephillim
placed themselves around the hull, he activated his harness and rose to the level
of the access hatch, quickly assessing the level of security. With the codelock
matched to one from his AI’s encyclopedia, he brought the appropriate
high-level burglar program on line and began the decoding process.

Thirty seconds
later, the hatch was open and the access ramp had been extended to the ground.
With wary glances, the other four Nephillim made their way inside, joining the
fifth in the engineering section in the stern the ship.

They found
themselves in a large chamber, mostly filled with a variety of machinery. The
large Ion drives and its adjoining fuel tanks dominated the left and right
sides of the chamber, dwarfing the relatively inconspicuous Slipdrive that
filled the small space in between.

The Captain
instructed a different Nephillim, one that had engineering experience, to
incapacitate the Slipdrive. The device itself, considering what it did, was
almost a disappointment. It was about 12 feet long by 2 high and covered by a
coat of temperature retardant grey paint.

The Nephillim pulled
out tools, mostly incomprehensible to the others, and removed the manual access
panel. Some fresh scratch marks were evident around the panel.

“It looks like
someone has been playing around with it," he reported to his Captain.

The Captain, bored
with the assignment and somewhat resentful at having missed the action inside
Fever, was in no mood for dithering.

“I don’t want
problems, I want solutions. They probably did some recent maintenance on it.
Bugger the thing up and then let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.

The Nephillim
sighed and returned to his work with a martyred look. It certainly looked like
someone had been tinkering with the Slipdrive’s manual controls. He pulled out
a small flat square from his pocket, attached it below the main panel, out of
sight from casual inspection, and made a connection with the Slipdrive’s AI.

A twenty second
countdown began.

Panicking,
thinking he’d accidentally started the detonation sequence on his own bomb, he
fired deactivation orders at it. The countdown continued. Unbeknownst to the
engineer, the device planted by Captain Zoltan and his Martians was ironically
the same model as the one the Nephillim were using. It was designed to come on
line when the Slipdrive was activated. Unfortunately, the Nephillim’s attempt
to gain access to the Slipdrive had initiated the countdown.

“Run," he
said, taking his own advice and sprinting for the door. The other Nephillim
cast confused looks at one another before deciding it was prudent to do the
same. They got as far as the ramp when the explosion ripped through the ship.

Left untampered,
the device planted by the Martians was sufficient to destroy the engineering
section and leave the rest of the ship – and Felix – intact. The explosion
sadly set off the small bomb planted by the Nephillim, effectively destroying
the entire ship and setting off the variety of explosive devices, munitions and
other illegal items stored in Tarquin’s hold.

Four of the
Nephillim were instantly killed. One, the engineering genius, was sent flying
through the air minus both arms and a leg. It was unlikely he would have
survived at all had it not been for the battle armor he wore. He landed
unconscious fifty feet away in a sprawling bloodied heap.

A nearby ship,
just landed and filled with old age pensioners intent on kicking up their
heels, rocked heavily on its AG. Flying shrapnel and superheated air hurled
into the ship, knocking large jagged holes in its hull and igniting various
fires. A group of pensioners, arguing over access rights to the luggage area
were killed when a large piece of shrapnel flew through the side of the hull.
Brightly colored, outdated clothing and tacky jewellery rained down on their
dismembered bodies.

A group in a
different section of the ship were playing gin.

“What was that?”
asked one, watching his drink slosh in its glass.

His partner on the
other side of the table blushed heavily.

“Sorry. I’ve got
dreadful wind.”

◊

The Shepherds
headquarters on Fever had been relatively easy to find. A few discrete inquiries,
a bribe placed in the right hands and the odd veiled threat had the information
literally flowing out.

Gabriella, Sammael
and ten of her hardest Templars stood on the mezzanine floor of the discotech
that served as the Shepherds headquarters on Fever. The position enabled her to
gain an excellent view of anyone coming in and out of the audience chamber.
She’d already watched as first Logan and Tarquin and then Felix and Crystal,
the latter surrounded by Shepherds, had entered through the door at the back of
the club.

It had been ten
minutes since she’d seen any other activity. And then Knights Captain Tynan,
surrounded by a group of armed and armored Martians had entered the disco.

After hearing that
Metatron had assigned Simbiel and Tynan to retrieve the Overdrive, Gabriella
had taken the liberty of looking up their respective files. Even out of
uniform, she recognized the Knights Captain immediately. He was, of course,
completely unaware of her presence on Fever. The Trireme he was on, according
to official Areopagite reports, had arrived on Fever shortly before her.
Fortunate considering her ship, the Valkyrie
Blazing Trumpet,
at 1km in
length, wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in Fever’s spaceport.

Now it looked like
Tynan was about to do her dirty work for her. All she had to do was step in
after he had his hands on either Felix or the Overdrive, pull rank and take the
prize off his hands. Later, of course, Knights Captain Tynan would have an
unfortunate accident resulting in his untimely death and subsequent inability
to divulge his version of the events on Fever to Metatron, Michael or any other
member of the ruling council. Too bad, thought Gabriella. The lad was
resourceful.

Almost as an after
thought, she made a mental note to her AI, making sure the Martians would never
return to New Mars.

◊

“No armor?,"
Logan asked hopefully.

The Grand Shepherd
shrugged apologetically. “No. Sorry. A bit too bulky to smuggle in, even with
our connections.”

“Bugger.” He
adjusted his shoulder strap and ordered his AI to form a link to the heavy Afer
cannon he was holding in his arms.

Around him, the
other Shepherds were arming themselves and taking defensive positions around
the Grand Shepherd, Ram Terry IV and Felix. Tarquin and Crystal were checking
their weapons, the former holding a large plasma cannon. Crystal managed to
find a plasma pistol and a sword.

Felix gestured
towards Crystal’s sword. “Do you know how to use that?”

“No, I’m planning
on opening large envelopes with it. Of course I know how to use it. Fifteen
years training actually.”

“Oh."

“Did any of you
robed fellas happen to install a back door in this place," asked Tarquin.

“Yes of course,"
said Ram Terry. “There’s one built into the back of my personal chambers.”

“Excellent,” said
Logan. “If its not too much trouble, I suggest we use it.”

Two of the
Shepherds picked up the Overdrive and headed for the door covered by the
Tapestry. The rest of the group followed. Two more Shepherds stayed behind to
act as a rear guard. The Grand Shepherd looked worried. “I can’t make contact
with the two men I stationed outside the door to the antechamber.”

“Its a fair bet
they’re already toast then," said Logan.

Ram Terry’s
personal quarters, like the rest of the Shepherds headquarters, was sparsely
furnished. A small cot lay on the floor. Next to it, mounted low on the wall,
were a food and water dispenser.

Ram Terry,
obviously using his AI, opened a concealed door at the back of the room. It
showed a long, poorly lit corridor. Two Shepherds led the way followed by the
two carrying the Overdrive. Ram Terry trotted behind them. The Grand Shepherd
and Felix were next. They were followed by other Shepherds, including Shannon
and Heather. Logan, Tarquin and Crystal brought up the rear.

The corridor was
quite low, forcing Tarquin to stoop. Hearing shots behind him, he stopped and
turned.

“They’re in.”

“Yeah I know,”
said Logan, jogging on. “Keep going. We’ve got to get Felix out.”

“Sod it,” said
Felix. “I’ve had enough of this shit. Why don’t we just give them the fucking
Overdrive and take our chances.”

“Because they’ll
kill us you idiot,” replied Logan. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours
a rest and let us do the thinking for you for a while.”

Felix, jogging in
front of Logan, didn’t bother to reply.

The corridor
descended for about 100 meters before dog legging a couple of times. It
finished at a dead end.

“Now what?” asked
Felix.

Ram Terry used his
AI again to activate a trapdoor in the ceiling above them. “This leads to a
back alley. We should be safe there as this exit is only known to myself and
Mattock.”

“Does your
presentiment tell you that?," asked Logan.

“No," replied
Ram Terry. “Only my common sense.”

The two leading
Shepherds grabbed the lip and hauled themselves up. They gave the all clear and
the Overdrive was passed up. The Grand Shepherd went next, getting a leg up
from one of his men. Ram Terry, surprising the non-Shepherds of the group,
levitated himself through the hole.

Felix gave Crystal
a surprised look. “Where did he learn to do that?”

“Another surprise
side effect of the genetic tinkering," she said smugly.

“Anything else I
should know about?”

“I’ll let the Holy
One show you himself.”

Felix climbed up
next, followed by a few more Shepherds and finally Crystal, Tarquin and Logan.

Logan had to pass
his cannon up, being too heavy and unwieldy for one hand. Emerging at street
level in a small alley, his AI reported that there were more people surrounding
him than had gone up. His tactical graphics display immediately came on line,
overlaying his normal vision. He was just reaching down for his cannon when he
felt the nuzzle of a large weapon touch the back of his neck.

“Looking for
this?”

Logan looked up. A
tall winged figure stood above him holding his Afer easily in one hand.

Judging by his
height and wing colorings, Logan thought he was looking at a Watcher Prince.

Asel smiled down
at him. “Don’t you just hate it when everything goes pear shaped?”

◊

After disposing of
the two Shepherds guarding the antechamber, Knights Captain Tynan made his way
into the main audience chamber. It was empty.

“Shitfuckcunttitsarse,”
he said, swearing loudly.

Furious, he fired
his plasma cannon into the ceiling. Molten fragments rained down on his head,
burning one of his ears.

“Fuck.”

Captain Zoltan and
his five Martians were standing around looking at Tynan with what he assumed
was amusement.

“Well, don’t just
fucking stand there. They didn’t evaporate. There must be a back door around
here somewhere. Find it.”

Five minutes
searching turned up the door behind the tapestry.

One of the
Martians walked through gun first. The unmistakable sound of a plasma weapon
could be heard firing. The Martians headless corpse was thrown back through the
door.

“Oh good grief.
What next?” Tynan unbuckled a small crawler bomb from his belt. Activating it,
he sent it scurrying into the room. The crawling explosive, self aware and
programmed to find a warm body, latched itself onto one of the two Shepherds
guarding the escape corridor and detonated. The Shepherds, unarmored, were
shredded and died instantly.

Outside in the
audience chamber, Tynan smiled grimly. The crawler bomb would have gone around
in circles if it hadn’t found a warm body to attach to. He had calculated on
the Shepherds not having armor.

He motioned for
the other Martians to enter and then walked through. What had once been the
escape tunnel out of Ram Terry’s personal quarters was now completely blocked
by rubble.

“Oh for fuck’s
sake. Can it get any worse?” He gestured angrily to the remaining Martians.
“Back the other way.” They ran back out into the audience chamber.