Alic’s virtual hands danced over the carriage management icons. Vic and John raced for the back of the carriage, and knelt down in front of the blast hole. They began shooting at the track between them and the GH7. Green and purple flashes streaked across the ground outside.
“They’ve extended their force field,” Vic yelled. “We can’t hit the track.”
Alic’s black virtual hand thumped the carriage accelerator symbol, and held it down. There was a shrill whining sound from the axle motors, and the carriage lurched forward.
“They’re gaining on us,” Matthew yelled. “We’re going to get bulldozed.”
Alic whirled around. The gateway was only two hundred meters away now.
A searing scarlet explosion erupted from the side of the GH7. Flames splashed across the giant engine’s force field, twisting away into the sky to fuel a writhing cloud of black smoke.
“Oh, great,” Jim moaned. “Now someone else out there is shooting.”
Nigel’s expanded mentality examined the physical connections into the Boongate gateway control center. Fireshields had been erected at every interface node in CST’s Narrabri network, isolating the entire system.
There has to be a way in!
He could crack the fireshields, but it would take time. They were based on one hundred ninety geometry encryption.
“Get a security team into the gateway control center,” Nigel snapped at Nelson. His digital presence circled around and around the network, interrogating every routing node, hunting a weakness. Eight of Narrabri station’s RIs were diverted from their primary function of managing wormhole generators, and assigned decryption on the fireshields. He knew they wouldn’t do it in time.
The traffic control network, with its complex sensor system spread across the station, was still available to him. He accessed the cameras on top of the Boongate gateway, receiving a clear view looking down on the little carriage as it shuddered its way along the last hundred fifty meters of track. The GH7 was right behind it, headlights illuminating the shoddy paintwork and grime-smeared wheels. The distance was shrinking rapidly as the carriage accelerated as best its ancient hub motors could manage. Missiles slammed into the GH7. Completely ineffectual.
Where did they come from?
“Gateway control center is closed and barricaded,” Nelson reported. “We can’t get in.”
“Blow it open,” Nigel ordered. One aspect of his expanded mentality was examining the orbital platforms to see if their beam weapons could get a clear shot at the GH7. But he didn’t have access to the Narrabri force field, and by the time he got through to Alan it would be too late.
Another slender particle lance shot came from the carriage to strike ineffectually at the force field around the GH7. Then the carriage swept through the open gateway.
Alic was instinctively bracing himself for the impact. The GH7 was closing fast now, bearing down on them with more inertia than a falling moon.
“Get ready to jump,” Alic said. He bent his legs, ready to use the strength of the suit’s electromuscle. It should be enough to power him clear, then if he sprinted…
“We stay,” Vic growled. “We’ll be through any second. I’m not going to let him get away from us now.”
“But—”
The weak rose-gold light emanating from the gateway was almost lost in the harsh blaze of the headlights behind them. Alic was mesmerized by the GH7 as it raced ever closer. Decision time was measurable in seconds. Less.
“Stay with it,” Vic pleaded.
Which was a personal choice, Alic knew, whereas he should be making cool operational assessments. Too late.
Another barrage of missiles hammered at the GH7 engine. Then they were through the force field, and Boongate’s planetary station was laid out in front of them under the gloaming of a twilight sun. Alic stared in consternation at what was waiting for them. “Jump,” he yelled frantically.
***
The GH7 vanished through the Boongate gateway.
“It got home,” Nigel exclaimed. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Right under our fucking noses. Son of a bitch!”
“Commander Hogan’s link has dropped out,” Oscar said. “They must be under attack on the other side.”
“No goddamn kidding.”
“Unisphere connection to Boongate has failed,” Nelson said. “It looks like the physical link was taken out just the other side of the zero-width wormhole.”
“Mr. Sheldon,” Bradley Johansson said, “we need to go after it.”
Nigel shot Justine a look, anxious for advice from someone who must surely understand all the factors. She just shrugged, her left hand held against her belly. He thought she was going to be sick; her cheeks were puffing out.
“We’ll put a team together,” Nigel said. It came out like an admission of defeat.
“Your pardon,” Bradley said. “We already have a team. And I have spent a hundred thirty years preparing for this eventuality. Let us go through.”
“I don’t even have control of the gateway right now.”
“My squad is getting entry into the gateway control center,” Nelson said. “Some resistance. Oh…they’re all dead, all the staff, he murdered them.”
Nigel closed his eyes, experiencing an anguish that was close to physical pain. One of his grid squares expanded into his virtual vision. He couldn’t recall summoning it. Links from the security squad showed him the carnage. “Oh, Christ.” It was Anshun all over again. “How many of these Judas bastards are there?” Four of the security squad were chasing someone in a force field suit, blowing flaming holes in the structure of the gateway administration building as they went. A grade one security alert was slowly closing off the building, force fields compartmentalizing it. Too little, too late, Nigel knew.
“We have to get back to Far Away,” Bradley Johansson said. “The Guardians can stop the Starflyer. This is our time, Mr. Sheldon; let us do what we have devoted our lives to achieving.”
Ion rifle fire and enhanced energy grenades were shredding the fourth floor of the administration building as the security squad closed in on Daniel Alster. Nigel took a breath, steeling himself. “What do you need?”
“We have a train here at Narrabri station loaded with our equipment. All we need to make it work is the data Kazimir was carrying. Senator Burnelli has it.”
“I do,” Justine confirmed. She held up a memory crystal, then grimaced against another burst of nausea.
“Once we have that,” Johansson continued, “we need passage through the wormhole to Boongate. Investigator Myo can guarantee that.”
“No,” Paula said. “I will not do that. I will not legitimatize Elvin’s criminal activities.”
“We need a guarantee if we are to expose ourselves,” Johansson said. “Surely you must see that?”
“I have no reason to lie,” Nigel said. “You can go through. No catch.” The RIs were breaking the fireshields, hacking a route back into the Boongate wormhole systems for him. It didn’t look as if Alster had inflicted any physical damage to the giant machine.
“Investigator, I am not asking you to legitimatize anything,” Bradley said. “I am asking you to help us overcome the mistrust that has assisted the Starflyer for a hundred thirty years. In addition, you will be able to witness its final demise.”
Nigel had never seen Paula look so uncertain before. There was even a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. He put the link to Johansson on hold. “You’ll have to go,” he told her gently. “Take Cat’s Claws with you; they’ll maintain your safety.”
“I arrested Morton,” she said indignantly.
“All right, some CST security operatives, then. But we need to get this moving.”
Wilson and Anna had been whispering together. “We’ll go,” Wilson said. “Someone from our group needs to confirm what happens on Far Away, if we ever reach it.”