The Dreaming Void (88 page)

Oscar Monroe wasn't the least surprised when Paula called him on a secure link a couple of minutes later. “We knew they were planning annexation,” Paula said. “The trigger factor has to be the Second Dreamer.”

“That figures,” Oscar said. “Everyone's scared crapless over the devourment phase. If we do manage to get hold of him, I'd like to shake some sense into the stupid bastard myself.”

“I think the devourment has taken Living Dream by surprise as much as everyone else. The dream simply confirmed his location for them. They're acting on that.”

Oscar reviewed some of the images relayed by reporters who'd gathered around the edge of the docks. “So we can safely assume he's in Colwyn City.”

“Yes, but they don't know exactly where. If they had an accurate fix, their embedded agents would have simply run a covert snatch operation. This is an indicator of Ethan's desperation. Our sources on the ground indicate they're shutting down all traffic in and out of the city—ground, air, and space.”

“Closing the noose.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn't make our mission any easier. We'll have to infiltrate through the perimeter.”

“Don't complicate things. I'd suggest you simply fly straight down into the docks.”

“You're kidding me, right?”

“Not at all. Get the smartcore to display the ship's stealth function to you. I don't believe that Living Dream has anything on Viotia that can detect you at night in the rain.”

“Oh, crap. All right.”

The link ended, and he turned to his shipmates to explain.

“I can insert some software that will help cover our approach,” Liatris McPeierl said. “Their network is already growing out from the docks. I'm monitoring its development through the unisphere, but I can crack the junction nodes. That'll let me into their sensors and command links.”

“The docks will be a good position,” Tomansio said. “It puts us in right at the heart of their operation. I don't care how dense their network is or how powerful their smartcores, it will be chaotic down there to start with. That provides us with a golden opportunity.”

“All right,” Oscar said. “You guys are the experts. Tell me what approach route you want.”

Forty minutes later
Elvin's Payback
emerged into real space a thousand kilometers above Colwyn City. It was already fully stealthed, capable of avoiding the most advanced militarygrade sensors: a huge case of overkill. Viotia's civil space detectors could barely locate a starship out at geosynchronous orbit when its beacon was signaling. So far, the Ellezelin forces pouring into the docks hadn't established any kind of sensor coverage above the atmosphere. They were concentrating on tracking capsule traffic in the city and apprehending anyone who tried to leave. Nobody was looking for craft coming into the area. The commercial starships that had arrived after the annexation had begun were staying in orbit, awaiting developments and clear orders from their owners.

Following Tomansio's directions, Oscar brought the starship straight down above the estuary a couple of miles outside the city. It was still raining, the swollen river covered by rolling clouds. With a high-intensity optical distortion shimmering around its fuselage, the ovoid starship looked like a particularly dense patch of drizzle in the few wisps of somber starlight that diffused through the clouds. Electronic sensors simply lost focus, and mass scanners were unable to find anything heavier than air in the space it occupied. Even Higher field functions, if there had been any operating, would have been hard-pressed to find anything. If it had been broad daylight on a clear morning, maybe someone might have spotted something. But not on this dreary shadowed night.

Oscar took them down to three meters above the muddy water and steered upriver, using passive sensors alone. Several of the large Ellezelin forces' support capsules streaked across the sky above them, on their way to intercept fleeing citizens.
Elvin's Payback
remained invisible, though that didn't stop Oscar from holding his breath and foolishly staring up at the cabin ceiling as the capsules passed overhead. He remembered the war films he used to watch in his first life, already ancient then, that depicted silent running in submarines. The principles here were comparable. He had been tempted to take the starship underwater to make their approach. Tomansio had talked him out of it, pointing out that the noise and displacement they'd make breaking surface probably would give them away.

So they drifted in over the deserted quays like a ghost through mist. According to the information Liatris had hacked from the invaders' network, several paramilitary squads had been deployed around the perimeter of the docks, supported by ten armed capsules, to secure their immediate footprint. Nobody was watching the dock's long river frontage.

Beckia McKratz had infiltrated the dock's original commercial network, skillfully manipulating the nodes with software that opened up channels without the management monitors being aware of anything untoward. Even before they reached land, she'd assumed complete command of a giant cargo warehouse belonging to the Bootel & Leicester import agency. As they passed above an empty barge repair bay just outside, she opened one of the plyplastic doors, and the starship slipped into the dark enclosed space beyond, dripping cold rain onto the enzyme-bonded concrete floor. The door shut silently behind them, and five rounded pedestal legs swelled out from the base of the hull. Oscar landed them next to a tall stack of yellow and green cargo crates containing civil engineering excavators manufactured offworld.

“Down and safe,” Oscar said, letting out a long breath of relief.

“We're safe,” Tomansio said cheerfully. “I don't fancy anyone else's chances.”

When the
Mellanie's Redemption
dropped out of hyperspace four thousand kilometers above Sholapur, Troblum looked down on a continent rolling slowly into the dawn. The bright new light illuminated a wide monsoon building just off the subtropical coast where the city-state of Ikeo squatted amid the spectacularly craggy landscape. He studied the weather with interest. There weren't many monsoons on Sholapur, but those that did materialize tended toward the fierce. It would reach land in less than two hours.

On the chair opposite him in the starship's cabin, the solido of Catriona Saleeb lounged back, smiling contentedly. She pushed a hand through her curly black hair, a languid movement he always found sensual. “That storm could help us,” she said in her husky voice.

Trisha Marina Halgarth's solido walked across the small floor space to Catriona. She wore a pair of tight black leather jeans and a small pure white T-shirt that showed off a nicely athletic body. Green butterfly-wing OCtattoos quivered slowly across her cheeks as she wriggled herself onto the cushioning beside Catriona. The two girls put their arms comfortably around each other, and Trisha flexed her bare toes. “Do you think so?” she asked Catriona.

“It's going to take hours to pass across Ikeo. That'll mess up sensors no matter how sophisticated they are. There will be force fields over most estates, which will block a lot of low-angle scanning. That's to our advantage, isn't it, Troblum, darling?”

“Could be,” he admitted. What he would have liked was Isabella Halgarth's opinion on the situation, but he'd lost her I-sentient personality program when he'd left the Accelerator Faction station, using it in a projector to convince the sensors his starship was still sitting passively in the docking bay. Isabella had an altogether more devious outlook than the other girls, which would have made her ideal to analyze forthcoming events.

“Not if you try to arrive during the storm,” Trisha said. “Even with this ship's ingrav, you'll be struggling to hold level in the winds. Best you leave it to provide cover if you have to leave in a hurry.”

Troblum accessed the external sensor imagery again. It was a large storm. Even from this height he could see flashes of sheet lightning ripping through the dark clouds. At his request the smartcore overlaid the sensor patterns guarding Ikeo from uninvited intruders. The
Mellanie's Redemption
could sneak through unnoticed—probably—but it would be a closely fought electronic battle. And Trisha was right; the storm would produce a particularly difficult environment to fly through. He ran a passive scan for orbiting ships, but there was no inbound or outbound traffic that he could detect, just Sholapur's small band of geosynchronous satellites. “Activate our full stealth suite and take us down,” he told the smartcore, then pulled up a map of the city and designated a small valley five miles from Stubsy Florac's home, just outside the estate's official boundary.

Troblum was sweating with worry as they descended through the last levels of cloud. Then they were past the cold vapor, and the rugged land was only two kilometers below. In the wan predawn light the starship blended perfectly into the gray overcast sky as it sank fast through the clear air. He landed it next to some tall palm-equivalent trees that were starting to wave about as the wind built up.

To visit Stubsy Florac he selected an armored fabric one-piece he could wear under his toga suit. Then he ran a fast check on the biononics that produced his integral force field to make sure of their functionality. In combination, the armor and shielding should be able to stop a great many weapons, but he didn't delude himself about their ultimate ability if a fully enriched Advancer agent cornered him. For a moment he considered taking a weapon. There were two jelly guns stashed away in a locker, both of which would need charging. But he didn't have any experience in physical combat. His biononics could produce a respectable distortion pulse if pushed, and besides, Stubsy wouldn't like him carrying that kind of hardware into his home. It was going to be bad enough turning up unannounced and then asking for a further favor. He left the guns in the locker and went into the airlock.

There was a one-man regrav scooter stowed in a midship cargo hold. Troblum gave it a suspicious stare as it floated out to hover a couple of centimeters above the thick blue-tinged grass. He hadn't used it in decades. It looked uncomfortably small now, and it bobbed about alarmingly under his weight as he tried to lift his leg over the saddle. It took three attempts, but he eventually managed to sit astride it, wincing at what he was sure was a pulled muscle just above his hip. Biononics went to work tracking down and repairing the cells in his overstrained flesh. A transparent plyplastic visor unfurled from the front of the scooter, producing a streamlined hemisphere to shield the rider from the slipstream, though it had to curve outward to enclose Troblum. He directed the little craft toward Stubsy's grand villa just outside the valley, keeping his speed to a prudent fifty kilometers an hour at a three-meter altitude.

While he was traveling, his u-shadow analyzed all the spaceports whose networks were connected to the sparse planetary cybersphere. It produced a list of starships currently on the ground, none of which were Earth-registered. Hardly complete, he acknowledged, but he was fairly sure that Paula Myo wouldn't draw attention to herself here, which was undoubtedly what an Earth registration would do. Nor was there a ship that fit the profile of an Accelerator agent. If people were here for him, they weren't out in the open.

His scooter arrived at the line of slim silver pillars that marked the boundary of Stubsy's estate. His field functions reported several sensors locking on as he slowed. He called Stubsy's code. It took a disconcertingly long time for the dealer to answer.

“Troblum, man, is that you out there?”

“Of course it's me. Will you let me through your perimeter, please.”

“I didn't know you were on Sholapur. You didn't land at Ikeo spaceport.”

“I told you I needed discretion for our last transaction.”

“Yeah, yeah, right.”

Troblum gave the silver pillars an uneasy glance. He was feeling very alone and exposed out there. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. I've cleared you through the defense systems. Come on in.”

The top of the two pillars in front of him turned green. Troblum eased the scooter forward between them, tensing as he passed over the line. When nothing happened, he breathed easier.

Beyond the big white villa, a dense curtain of rain was heading in across the steel-gray sea. As he settled in front of the high glass doors, Troblum looked down the long slope to the lovely little cove below. There was no sign of Stubsy's glide boat anchored offshore.

Stubsy opened the door and gave Troblum a nervous grin. “Hey, big man, how's it going, huh?”

“No change,” Troblum said. His gaze swept across Stubsy, who was hanging on to the side of the door, preventing any glimpse of the big hallway beyond. The man was wearing his usual expensive and tasteless garb: too-tight gold sports trousers and a shirt with a vivid black and orange flower pattern, open to the waist. But his face looked haggard, as if he were suffering the mother of all hangovers, with dark circles under his eyes and at least two days of stubble. He looked flushed as well, his skin hot and sweaty.