The Ravagers Box Set: Episodes 1-3 Read online

  Roddy almost laughed.

  He entered one of the elevators, swiped his badge, and punched the button for the thirty-eighth floor.

  The other occupants chatted with each other as the car rose and dropped them off at their destinations. Badge readers just past the open doors ensured no one “tailgated” to a floor they weren’t permitted to visit. Roddy listened to the chatter with a detached calm, trying to glean any hint of a threat to Oswald Silver in the unofficial discussions of his employees. He found nothing of concern.

  He reached the thirty-eighth floor and badged in. The floor was empty, save for a single elevator car. Roddy punched the button and rode to the fortieth floor, the private domain of Oswald Silver. He hated the indirect approach but admitted it made for an effective defensive layout. Few ever exited the elevators on the thirty-eighth floor, and they could monitor everyone for potential threats while newcomers to the layout of the upper floors tried to deduce Oswald’s location.

  Audrey, Oswald’s personal assistant and receptionist, glanced up. “Mr. Light. Mr. Silver is occupied at the moment and will be with you shortly.”

  Roddy stared at her. Silver never had visitors, though Roddy suspected that Audrey spent time in that room from time to time. Why would Oswald summon him, only to bring the exceptionally rare visitor to his office and make Roddy wait, especially if he was eager to get the trip underway? He wanted to yell at Audrey about the insanity of it all, but realized she was hardly at fault for his inconvenience.

  Instead, he shrugged and headed to the reception area to the right of Audrey’s desk.

  He rested his head against the back of a comfortable chair as he looked around. The space above Audrey’s desk extended up for four floors without interruption, with the space behind the reception area and above Oswald’s office blocked from sight. Roddy considered it an unnecessary precaution; few who reached the fortieth floor would lack knowledge of the secret hidden on the floors above.

  Three minutes later, Audrey called to him. “You can go in now, Mr. Light.”

  Roddy frowned. He’d not seen anyone leave. Was there a secret door to Oswald’s office? Or was Oswald planning to have Roddy interact with the current visitor?

  He stood, threw his travel bag back over his shoulder, and walked past the reception desk to Silver’s office. As he’d been announced and invited, he didn’t bother knocking before entering.

  “Light!” Oswald snapped. “It’s about time you got here. Sit down. We have a trip to plan. And there will be a third person joining us.”

  Roddy moved toward Oswald’s desk until the second chair spun around and the occupant faced him. He froze, his eyes widened, and he dropped his bag in shock.

  “Hello, Roddy,” Deirdre said.

  —————

  SHEILA CLARKE

  —————

  …the oldest myths and legends told to schoolchildren are described as from the Golden Age, or in even earlier times… scholars suggest this is impossible to prove, arguing that the originator of each myth claimed source material to add additional allure to the tale…

  The History of the Western Alliance, page 2,219

  SHEILA ENTERED JAMISON’S OFFICE, a prickling sensation covering her skin. Might the intruder or intruders still be in the room?

  She glanced at the General. “What did they do when they broke in?”

  Jamison hesitated. “They borrowed something. Something important.”

  She waited a moment before prompting him. “What did they borrow?”

  In response, he moved to his desk and opened the top right hand drawer, which she recalled held the badge granting access to the subfloor bunker and storage tank.

  She gasped. “They stole your badge?”

  “Borrowed it.” Jamison removed the false drawer bottom and pointed at the badge. “It’s still here.”

  “But… how do you know it was taken and returned?”

  “I store it in a very specific way for just this reason,” Jamison said. “The same side facing up, the edges aligned in a very specific manner. It’s not in the correct position.”

  “Perhaps the intruder slammed the door and altered the position?”

  He shook his head. “I considered that. Without getting into too much detail, no amount of drawer slamming could explain the positioning of the badge.”

  She nodded. The intruder had left the card upside down. They’d been clever enough to swipe the General’s code—and know it existed—but sloppy enough to miss the detail about the badge placement. And they’d be someone on payroll, with access to the Bunker. There was only one person she could picture behaving in such a manner.

  Wesley Cardinal.

  Jamison looked her in the eye. “I need to ask you a very uncomfortable question, Sheila.”

  She felt her breath catch in her throat. He couldn’t possibly think—?

  “I’ve showed the hidden portion of the drawer to only one person, Sheila. Only one person knows about the space that badge unlocks. I don’t want to ask this question, but logic dictates that I do so.”

  “It wasn’t me, General.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice, even though she appreciated the logic. The insinuation that she might be a suspect in the break-in, after the accusations from Stephen earlier, left her questioning if she could trust anyone.

  “I believe you, Sheila.” There was no sense of irony or malice in his tone. “Logic would suggest that the thief must know of the badge and what access the badge provides. There are only two people, to my direct knowledge, who are aware of those facts. Both are in this room.” He paused. “In order to be thorough, you ought to question me.”

  In spite of the situation, she laughed. The tension in his face evaporated slightly.

  “I urged you here, Sheila, because the circumstances we’ve witnessed over the past twenty-four hours allow me to reach only one conclusion, and the theft of my badge suggests we’re in more trouble than I feared.” He paused. “I need a second opinion.”

  She nodded.

  He began to pace. “It goes without saying, but what I’m about to reveal is beyond confidential, beyond top secret. There are only a handful of people alive today who know what I’ll tell you.”

  She felt her pulse quicken as adrenaline coursed through her. Something about the word “alive” made her shiver.

  “You have likely heard myths about the nature of the Time Capsule and the idea that the Time Capsule on display at the Alliance capital is a redacted copy of the original.”

  She nodded.

  “The rumor is true.”

  She stared at him and then laughed. “General, this is no time—”

  “I’m quite serious, Sheila. Those who first located the Capsule reviewed the insights and treasures, pulled most aside, and built significantly abridged copies for public consumption. Those copies were sufficient to resurrect civilization at a rapid pace, and yet the greatest wonders remain hidden where few will ever find them.”

  She watched his face, trying to find the mirth and humor. She found nothing. The air seemed colder.

  “There was a specific technology identified in the unabridged materials of the Capsule that suggested an immensely powerful weapon. Too powerful. Both East and West found the information at nearly the same time, and in a quiet summit held away from the greatest population centers of both, they tested that weapon. The results confirmed the worst fears of both sides. While both sides sought world dominance, they wanted lands not devastated by this weapon. And they agreed that they’d shelve the technology and never, ever use it.”

  “Let me guess,” Sheila said, her voice barely above her whisper. “That weapon produced the results we saw yesterday. That weapon… that weapon is in that storage tank downstairs.”

  He nodded.

  “But…” She paused. “How did you know about the weapon?”

  He turned away before answering. “I was there.”

  She sucked in her breath.

  “I
didn’t trust them, of course,” he said, so quietly she thought he spoke only for his own ears. “Yet I couldn’t voice my distrust. I suspected they’d ignore the truce and work to build and enhance the weapon. I think my facial expression belied my doubt. They know where I’m working, Sheila. It’s no accident that we found that site, and it’s no accident that they left behind a box holding the weapon where we’d find it.”

  “So… you saw… them? The leaders of the East?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Don’t think anything of it, Sheila. It’s not critical at this point. We need to understand the motivation.”

  “The motivation?” She laughed. “They sent the weapon here to destroy you, General.”

  He shook his head. “If they wanted me dead, there are far more efficient means of accomplishing the deed. That weapon… with enhancements… they aren’t after just me.”

  She felt a chill. “Invasion?”

  He nodded.

  She stared at him. “How can you be so calm? The East, the enemy, have breached our shores and are in our lands, they’ve demonstrated a weapon of incredible power that I’m not sure I fully understand yet… and your response is to bury the weapon in a tank in our workspace and call me in to talk about it?”

  “What else would you have me do, Sheila?”

  “I don’t know. Tell someone?”

  “Who?”

  “Your supervisors. The media. Someone. We need to do something.”

  “This isn’t a weapon you counter with additional manpower, Sheila.” He shook his head. “You can’t shoot a weapon like this. It won’t even…” His eyes went wide. “Oh, no…”

  He grabbed the badge. “Let’s go. Now.”

  “But—”

  “Now, Sheila!”

  She froze momentarily, stunned. He’d never shouted an order at her before. She had little time to worry about it, for the General raced from his office and down the hall at full speed. She shook herself and ran after him.

  He was already at the end of the hallway, swiping his badge, opening the secret door, oblivious to the possibility someone might see. The door opened and he grabbed her arm and pulled her through before forcing the automated door closed more quickly than the machinery could move. His face was tight, his eyes wild, and whatever horrible revelation he’d uncovered during their conversation pushed him to sprint down the steps ahead of her.

  She ran after him, still unclear why he’d run toward a weapon of a terrifying power he’d not detailed.

  He paused at the doorway at the bottom as she labored after him, breathing heavily after sprinting down the stairs. He didn’t look fatigued as he swiped his badge and opened the door.

  “The weapon has to be dormant for storage and shipment,” he muttered, pulling the door open and running toward the tank. “They can’t even rely on impact to start everything. They need something to activate it. A detonator.”

  “A what?” Sheila asked.

  “It needs a trigger,” he said. “They couldn’t put it in the box or they’d risk starting it before they were ready. Even with a timer or sensors, a single malfunction risks early activation. That’s what the spy did. He added the trigger after we put the weapon right where they wanted us to put it.”

  “Why would you put it there anyway?”

  “Because I have reason to believe that tank can contain the weapon, absent outside forces!” he snapped. “That tank is built of Diasteel. The weapon won’t get out unless the tank is compromised.”

  “A bomb,” she whispered. “The intruder stole your badge to plant a bomb in the tank.”

  “We have to find it and deactivate it,” Jamison said. “Look in the tank. It has to be there.”

  “But if the weapon can’t get out—”

  “They’d know where I’d store it,” he said by way of explanation. “Any bomb would be capable of damaging the tank, causing a breach, and the detonation would serve as the trigger to activate the weapon. The Ravagers.”

  “Why do you refer to it in the plural?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, but merely pointed.

  She saw it. The bomb was built of a material of a similar color and texture of the “Ravager” weapon—no, Ravagers—stored in the tank. If she’d not known to look, she wouldn’t have seen it.

  “There’s a clock on it,” the General muttered, moving toward the “remote hands” used to maneuver material inside the tank. “Three o’clock. We have a few hours. We can deactivate the bomb without triggering the Ravagers. Once we’re done with that I’ll escalate to our defense, and—”

  “Sir?” She felt rude interrupting. “Where are you seeing three o’clock?”

  “It’s on the surface of the bomb,” he said.

  “It’s not a clock, sir. It’s a countdown timer. It’s at two minutes and fifty seconds now.”

  He was on her in an instant, seizing her arm and dragging her toward the exit faster than she thought possible.

  —————

  DEIRDRE SILVER-LIGHT

  —————

  …few businesses had the financial resources to support offices and production facilities in multiple cityplexes… basing those locations near the ends of the walled road spurs extending from each city was thought to expedite road travel between locations…

  The History of the Western Alliance, page 66

  SHE’D KNOWN RODDY LIGHT FOR many years. But Deirdre had never seen that look on his face. It was a combination of shock and… disgust? She understood that he would be shocked at her presence. But was the disgust meant for her father?

  Or for her?

  Her presence would certainly be a surprise, for Roddy worked for and with Oswald Silver exclusively. The business trips to other Diasteel locations were dangerous endeavors, and required a man with Roddy’s fighting prowess and other skills for safe transport. No one else from Diasteel Headquarters accompanied the duo.

  That restriction had far more to do with the means of transportation than the destinations. The latter were public knowledge. The former was something about which Roddy had been sworn to secrecy, not permitted to share with anyone. Not even his wife.

  That didn’t mean Oswald couldn’t tell her, of course.

  She studied his eyes. Normally a friendly, if intense, deep shade of green, she saw in them a fire she’d never seen before, and as his eyes flicked at her that fire deepened into something more.

  Pain.

  She thought of her times with Stephen during the long working hours, of the times she’d spent—or not spent—with Roddy in recent months. She thought of his unparalleled ability to read people, a skill she’d seen amply demonstrated as he’d walked the streets of the cityplex and discerned the growing unrest and unease without knowing why it happened. And when she saw the deep hurt in the brief glimpse into his eyes as he’d looked at her, she realized the implications.

  He knew.

  He might not know the specifics, the name, the timing, or the locations. But her husband had realized that she’d broken her marital vow of fidelity, and only recently.

  This would be an awkward trip.

  More awkward if her separate plan worked.

  Roddy turned his gaze and attention to Oswald. “Why is she going?” Roddy asked. She caught the slight inflection on “she,” which only solidified her belief that he’d figured out her deepest secret. Well, one of them.

  Oswald arched an eyebrow, and Roddy gave a faint nod. “Why is she going, sir?”

  “The nature of this specific trip requires the presence of my director of research and development, Light.” He paused, and his tone turned icy. “I wasn’t aware you were responsible for approving travel destinations… or the identities of the travelers.”

  Roddy’s face twitched, and she could feel the temperature in the room drop. “My comment was not intended to suggest an approval role, sir. It was merely a statement of surprise at the revelation of a variable not normally part of preparations.”

  Oswald smirked
. “Conjugal visits while in transit are never part of trip preparations or executions, Light. That detail will not change regardless of the passenger list.”

  “Of course, sir.” Roddy’s face turned stony. She felt the unstated words: he’d not touch her even after they arrived, let alone risk their safety to fulfilling his needs during transit.

  A nagging thought tickled her mind at the wording of Oswald’s rude comment, though. Had Roddy sought company during previous journeys while waiting for the conclusion of Oswald’s business?

  She’d need to consider that possibility in trying to assess the level of guilt she ought to feel over her own actions.

  Oswald glanced her way. “While Light and I finalize trip logistics, you’re to head directly to the transport bay. And I do mean directly, Deirdre. No… detours.”

  Roddy glanced at both of them, confusion etched on his face. She imagined her expression matched his. It was an odd demand.

  Unless…

  Oswald had figured out her plan. And if he’d figured out her plan, and the motivation behind it… it meant he’d just taunted her with his comment about conjugal visits on the journey.

  She felt a chill down her spine as she rose from her seat. “I… I’ll see both of you. Soon.” She turned and walked to the door before pausing to turn to face her father. “I’ll need to make a quick stop in my office to collect a few personal effects—”

  “Already taken care of, Deirdre.” Oswald’s gaze bore into her. “To the ship. No detours. We need to leave in very short order.”

  She caught the unspoken message. Activation was being moved up, possibly to thwart any “foolishness” on her part. “Of… of course.”

  If Roddy understood the hidden messages passed from father to daughter, that understanding didn’t register on his face.

  Deirdre exited, the room, closed the door… and then sprinted for the elevator car, slamming the call button repeatedly.

  “It won’t work, Mrs. Light.”