The Kasari Nexus (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 1) Page 22

  Shalegha stopped pacing and looked out across her command center. Yes. It was time to unleash the full might of the Kasari army that waited in the combat assembly area. Any of the unassimilated Eadric who didn’t like it could die alongside the Koranthians.

  Dgarra opened his eyes to the complete blackness of the underworld, wondering if he was dead. The pain told him he wasn’t. That and the dank smell of a natural cavern. Where was he and how had he gotten here? Reaching down, he felt his left leg. It had been splinted, apparently with the aid of two small stalagmites and some strips of cloth torn or cut from his uniform. And his left side had also been bandaged.

  A chipping sound to his right brought his head around, but when he reached for his blaster, he found the holster empty. The weapon was gone, as was his war-blade. Feeling the other cargo pockets, he discovered that the Smythe slave’s headset had also been taken.

  Suddenly a light sprang up as someone activated a chemical light stick. As his eyes adjusted to this new source of illumination, what he saw surprised him. Smythe was walking toward where he lay propped up against the cavern wall.

  “Ah. You’re awake.”

  Dgarra struggled to a seated position, ignoring the pain the movement inflicted upon him.

  “Where are my warriors?”

  “Probably all dead.”

  “If we were defeated in battle, you should have left me to die with my command. Why did you bring me here?”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Why did you free me from the collar?”

  “A moment of weakness.”

  A low growl escaped his lips but the pain in his side conspired with his broken leg to keep Dgarra from rising.

  “I wouldn’t expect a Kasari to know anything about honor.”

  This time he saw her face color. “I’m human, not Kasari.”

  “So you claim.”

  Smythe stepped forward to stare down at him. “You wouldn’t have released me if you didn’t believe it.”

  Dgarra started to respond, but his body was suddenly wracked by a fit of coughing that brought a bloody froth to his lips. As the cavern spun, his vision narrowed to a pinpoint. Then the darkness claimed him once more.

  Jennifer knelt at General Dgarra’s side, placing a hand to his throat. The Koranthian anatomy certainly wasn’t the same as that of humans, but they had a heartlike organ that circulated blood to their brains and she could feel a pulse in his neck. Ninety beats per minute. She had no idea what qualified as normal, but from the extent of his injuries, she guessed this wasn’t it.

  His skin was so thick that she couldn’t determine if he was running a fever. She had no idea if these beings even had fevers. She tried dribbling some liquid from his water pouch into his mouth, but couldn’t tell if any actually made it down the general’s throat.

  Rising to her feet, she shook her head. She’d done the best she could to stabilize him. But if he was going to survive, Jennifer had to get him to a place where he could get proper medical care. And that meant putting herself right back into serious danger.

  She didn’t need light to see her way and, considering how few of the light sticks she had left, that was a good thing. There was a trick that she’d learned with Mark and Heather during their Bolivian training. A number of blind people had mastered echolocation, snapping their fingers or clicking their tongues and listening for the returning sounds. With Jennifer’s neural enhancements, any sound could generate images of her surroundings in her mind. The louder the sound, the brighter the image and the farther she could see. Right now, loud sounds didn’t seem like such a good idea, so she picked up two marble-sized stones that she could rattle in her right fist.

  Carrying the Koranthian through a maze of natural caverns interconnected by excavated tunnels wasn’t exactly a joyride. At least water wasn’t an issue. It was everywhere . . . in rushing streams, bubbling springs, and underground lakes. But lack of food was becoming a serious problem. The nanites in her bloodstream made her craving worse as they began consuming her body for the energy they needed to function.

  The irony hit her. These microscopic machines that kept her healthy were also eating her alive. They would keep her functional as long as possible but they would make her suffer. She was so hungry that thinking of the disgusting green goo that comprised the Koranthian combat rations actually made her stomach rumble with need.

  Standing here staring at Dgarra’s unconscious body wasn’t going to make her hunger any better. With an effort, Jennifer leaned down, lifted him onto her shoulder, and resumed her trek deeper into the dark mountain interior.

  Since her headset had failed to connect to the Rho Ship, it must have been beyond the range of the subspace receiver-transmitter. She didn’t want to think about the alternative. So she slogged on through the endless depths, lost, alone, dog-tired, and starving, repeatedly tempted to drop Dgarra by the side of the path.

  When the Koranthian warriors arrived, Jennifer was too exhausted to feel anything but relief that they’d found her while their general still lived. After all, he was her lifeline, just as she’d been his.

  They poured from four intersecting passages into the great cavern through which she stumbled, their blinding lights bringing her to a sudden halt. Jennifer dropped to one knee and lowered Dgarra to the ground, surreptitiously slipping her SRT headset into his pocket. Then she rose and stepped away, lacing her fingers behind her head.

  A hard blow from behind dropped her on her face and she felt a familiar metal loop slip around her neck and latch. The shock collar was then activated, arching Jennifer’s body with a fresh set of convulsions that mercifully robbed her of consciousness.

  CHAPTER 18

  Jack Gregory hadn’t slept well last night. He’d had another of the damned dreams he couldn’t remember, no matter how hard he tried. All he knew was that it took place in a cavern beneath the Kalasasaya Temple, an Incan cavern where he’d almost gotten himself and Janet killed a dozen years ago. Despite his need to recall details, the dream drifted away whenever he tried to focus. Maybe he could remember if he’d been in a bed instead of trying to sleep in a passenger seat, with Mark driving the ancient Subaru along dilapidated mountain roads from Lima back to La Paz. Tall Bear damn sure didn’t have any trouble sleeping despite the way the bench seat in the back cramped his long body.

  When his quantum-entangled cell phone rang, the uneasy feeling in his gut kicked up a notch. It was Janet.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The panic in her voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “Robby’s gone. He’s run away and we can’t find him.”

  “Run away? I don’t understand.”

  The sound of the woman he loved sobbing tightened his throat so that he could barely breathe. Jack could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her cry, both instances associated with Robby . . . once when he’d been born and the other when he’d accidently pulled the Altreian headset over his temples when he was a baby. Now Jack could add a third.

  Catching the gist of the conversation, Mark accelerated to a dangerous speed along the narrow highway. At this rate, they’d reach La Paz in just over an hour.

  “What happened?” Jack asked softly.

  Janet paused. “It was my fault. Heather allowed Robby to put on the Altreian headset without my permission. I found them both sitting, facing each other. They were unresponsive, but I was afraid to remove Robby’s headset. His face . . . it was like he wasn’t even in there.”

  Again she took several sobbing breaths. “When they came out of the link, I lost it. I sent Robby to his room and told Heather that when you got back, I was taking Robby and leaving. I didn’t think he heard me, but he must have. When I finally went to check on him, he’d disabled the motion sensors, taken his go bag, and climbed out the window. He’s gone.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Maybe an hour. I can’t find him and neither can Heather.”

  This stunned Jack. “What about her visions?”

  �
�She doesn’t get them with Robby. Not even probabilities. Right now she’s hacking her way through all the local camera feeds, rental car records, taxis, police . . . still nothing.”

  “Okay, sit tight. We’re forty-five minutes out. Together, we’ll find him.”

  When she hung up, Jack hoped he’d sounded more confident than he felt. Again the unremembered dream of the Kalasasaya Temple tickled the corner of his mind. He’d always had a special knack for finding his target, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this time he might not.

  Admiral Connie Mosby wasn’t pleased.

  Eileen Wu hadn’t shown up for work on Monday and had remained missing for the two days since. The police discovery of Levi Elias’s tortured body in a heavily wooded area near the George Washington Parkway wasn’t helping her mood. To make things worse, Big John had disturbingly found a correlation between Elias’s death, the New York murder of Caroline Brown, and the disappearances of Jamal Glover and Dr. Denise Jennings, all former NSA employees.

  And then there was this morning’s report that Mary Beth Riles, the wife of former NSA director Jonathan Riles, had been found dead in her Annapolis home, having killed herself with a handgun. Two current and three former high-profile NSA employees were missing or dead. Plus Mrs. Riles.

  The admiral intended to get to the bottom of what had become a deadly mystery.

  Fortunately she had just gotten a major break, not in the case of the missing NSA employees but in the manhunt for Heather and Mark Smythe. Dr. Craig Whitehurst, Wu’s interim replacement, had just reported that Big John had made a .957 correlation of activity in and around La Paz, Bolivia, to the suspected artificial intelligence that the Smythes had used to hack the international television networks.

  Admiral Mosby had thought that she would be sharing this information with the FBI, but during a brief but forceful conversation with President Benton, she’d been directed to route all of the raw intelligence data relating to the Smythes directly to the UFNS Federation Security Service. Alexandr Prokorov, the minister of federation security, would be in charge of the international response to deal with this threat. If he needed support from the U.S. Cyber Command, Prokorov would be in touch.

  As much as it irked her to be playing second fiddle to an ex-FSB spook, she would be a good soldier and do as the commander in chief ordered. In the meantime, the admiral started to focus on finding Eileen and company.

  Alexandr Prokorov was in Moscow when the call came in. Ignoring the icy blast of wind that blew through Red Square, sending both locals and tourists scurrying for cover, he turned his body to shield the sat-phone as he listened. By the time the call ended, he had a smile on his lips.

  Finally he’d received some solid intelligence on where the Smythes had gone to ground. The distinctive signature of the AI they were thought to be employing had been detected in and around La Paz, Bolivia.

  The Bolivian activity didn’t necessarily mean that the Smythes were there. But something in La Paz had attracted their attention, and correlation of their hacking targets would lead the FSS to them.

  Standing alone in the windbreak of Lenin’s Mausoleum, Prokorov placed another call. The familiar, cold voice of Daniil Alkaev answered.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Prokorov. I have new orders for you. Forget about finding the data sphere for now. I need you and your team in La Paz, Bolivia.”

  “But I am close on this one.”

  “I don’t care. Get your team into Bolivia tonight. I want you to find the Smythes and kill them before they cause us more trouble. I’ll have the intelligence data you need waiting for you when you land.”

  “Give me two more days to find the holographic data sphere. Then I’ll take care of the Smythes.”

  “No. The Smythes are the top priority. Jack Gregory is guarding them.”

  There was the briefest of pauses.

  “The Ripper is with them?”

  “Yes.”

  When Daniil spoke, Prokorov could hear the anticipation in his voice.

  “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  Prokorov ended the call and put his sat-phone back in his pocket. As he resumed his stroll toward the Kremlin, a feeling of satisfaction warmed his body.

  Mexico wasn’t where Eileen Wu wanted to be right now. But the massive population hive of Mexico City was an excellent place to disappear. Arranging new identities was normally a trivial task, but the situation in which she, Jamal, and Denise found themselves demanded extreme care, especially if they were to avoid the notice of Big John and the other intelligence assets at the FSS minister’s disposal.

  Her thoughts turned to those hours before their trip had taken them south of the border. Senator Hagerman had come through. Once he’d learned of the importance of the holographic data sphere in his possession, he’d proposed a plan of action that seemed like it had a decent possibility of success, assuming the three of them could stay alive long enough to implement it.

  He’d placed the sphere into a padded envelope, folded it inside a newspaper, and dropped the bundle in a strip-mall trash can. Shortly thereafter, while Jamal made sure that no video cameras recorded her actions, Eileen walked over and retrieved the envelope.

  Denise’s voice pulled her from her reverie. “You know how dangerous that damned thing is, don’t you?”

  They’d rented a house on the southern outskirts of Mexico City. The living room wasn’t big, but it was cozy. Denise sat in a love seat that formed a ninety-degree angle with the couch upon which Eileen and Jamal sat, both looking tired and scared.

  “I know.”

  “Then why don’t we just smash it with a hammer?”

  Eileen had to admit the thought had crossed her mind.

  “No,” said Jamal. “I think we should keep our options open. We may end up needing it before this is all over.”

  Denise’s eyes widened. “Are you out of your mind? After the hell Grange put you through to make that thing?”

  Jamal shrugged. “You’re forgetting how the Jamal AI helped us take Grange down.”

  Eileen watched as Denise leaned forward, feeling the intensity that radiated from the woman.

  “Yes, it helped us. But only because it wanted to escape onto the Internet. It almost did too.”

  “Can you blame it?”

  “No. I can’t. But that’s what scares the hell out of me.”

  Eileen chimed in. “Look, Denise, I get it. But we don’t have to make a decision right now. In fact, considering how tired we all are, that would be stupid. Anyway, until we get to a lab where we can build a data drive that can download its contents, the sphere is useless.”

  “So,” said Jamal, “we’re sticking with Senator Hagerman’s plan? Do you really think it’s a good idea to link up with a couple of Safe Earth radicals, and may I remind you, criminals, like Mark and Heather Smythe?”

  “In the minds of the Federation Security Service, we’re all public enemy number one. In light of what’s happened, I’m starting to think the Smythes may not be the criminals that the government is making them out to be.”

  “Maybe not,” said Jamal, “but considering how they’re dead broke and on the run, I don’t see how they’ll be any help to us.”

  “All I know,” Eileen said, “is that I observed Heather and Mark Smythe hack their way out of an NSA maximum security detention facility using technology I’ve never seen the likes of since. And that was more than seven years ago. They might not be as on the run as you think.”

  Denise Jennings rose to her feet and took a deep breath. “I just wish I could get my life back.”

  The woman turned and walked down the short hall to her bedroom. And as Eileen watched her go, she knew that wasn’t going to happen . . . not for any of them . . . not ever again.

  Robby needed to get far enough away from La Paz that his parents couldn’t find him, not even with help from Heather and Mark. He felt distressed, but this was no time to go whining back home to mama. That would just prov
e that he wasn’t ready to be the weapon that Heather thought he was. They all needed him to be that weapon and he was determined not to let them down.

  Adjusting his SRT headset slightly, he directed his thoughts to his AI.

  “Eos. Have you decided on our destination?”

  She responded. “I’m currently procuring identity documents, securing funds, acquiring accommodations, and establishing digital security along our route. Estimated time to completion of all tasks . . . thirty-eight seconds.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Lima, Peru . . . population ten million, three hundred eighty thousand.”

  Robby paused for a moment. “I’m going to need samples of the local dialects.”

  “Available for access now.”

  Robby smiled and turned his attention to the audio-visual data, accessing sixteen simultaneous streams. He’d let Eos handle the mundane details. Right now he wanted to learn all of the local dialects and intonations, including the Chinese and Japanese variants. Once he finished that, he’d focus on the written forms of those languages.

  By the time he arrived in Lima, Robby intended to have mastered them all.

  Janet was so clenched up that she couldn’t work up the spit to swallow. Heather had determined that Robby and Eos were accessing the New Zealand supercomputer through Robby’s SRT headset. But they were mere ghosts in the machine that the savant couldn’t contact or get a trace on. She’d discussed shutting down the supercomputer, having Gil McFarland and Fred Smythe cut the power if necessary. But that would only force Robby and Eos to access the Internet by hacking into other, far less secure systems, placing them at greater risk from their enemies.

  After Jack and the others had arrived, they’d spent eight hours of frantic searching, exploiting every asset at the disposal of Jack, Tall Bear, Mark, and Heather, but they’d come up with nothing. And sometime during the day, Yachay had disappeared. Janet knew why. The indigenous woman had been the midwife who’d helped her give birth to Robby. She’d been his nanny and protector for the entire eight years of his life. Yachay wouldn’t come back without him.