Convergence Page 5

  Bernard whistled to himself as the floor indicator tracked his upward progress, spending the thirty seconds of the ride reading messages on his phone, alternatively smiling and frowning. When the doors opened, he stepped out into a room that housed the computer equipment operating the Aliomenti banking, business, and political empire. Money and securities existed not as paper or coins, but as digital items, bits and bytes accepted as money. The loss of these machines and the data stored and processed would precipitate the loss of Aliomenti wealth and influence in the world. Though they maintained backup sites throughout the world for critical data, recovery and migration to a new base of operations would take significant amounts of time.

  If Ashley succeeded, they wouldn’t have the time required to make that adjustment.

  Bernard glanced around to make sure there were no visible signs of disturbances, and then stepped behind a desk near the elevator door. The “operations desk” featured a three-quarter oval of work surfaces, physical displays, and keyboards that left Ashley, a long-time lover and innovator in the computer technology space, jealous. The setup permitted Bernard, the only person on duty, to monitor the health of the thousands of computers and storage devices housed inside this room on the seventeen and a half floor of the Headquarters building, a floor only accessible by elevator for those with the correct badge coding.

  Bernard dropped the few possessions he’d brought with him and began moving from screen to screen, glancing at the streams of information presented. He’d understand what issues were open with the equipment and identify which he’d tackle first.

  Ashley used that time to move away from him.

  She floated above the floor-bound equipment, looking for a rack of computers not in Bernard’s physical line of sight from the desk. She took care to avoid brushing the equipment cabinets. The monitoring sensors in the room would be highly sensitized, and she wanted to be certain she did nothing to trigger alarms and raise his suspicions.

  Subterfuge remained the key objective in her efforts.

  She found a cabinet beyond his line of sight and settled in above it, expanding her exoskeleton to provide an invisible working space. She opened the pouch, undoing the silent zipper Cavern researchers developed after many requests from those Outside. She checked the contents of the pouch once more, verifying the presence of the tools she’d need. She found the tablet computer loaded with the software necessary for the mission, a lighter, and a tiny device with a small flashing light.

  The small device, a “data interceptor,” would help her gain access to the server and the Aliomenti network, at which point she’d be able to install her special software program. She pulled the interceptor from the pouch, resealed the silent zipper, and floated down to the back of the computer server housed inside the cabinet.

  She moved the interceptor toward the network port and cable exiting at the back of the machine.

  “Who’s there?” The voice belonged to a woman. She was nearby.

  Very nearby.

  Ashley held still, not daring to breathe, wondering if she’d accidentally disabled the invisibility as she’d moved in to start her phase of the attack.

  If she had, she’d destroyed the invasion plan.

  VII

  ATHOS SAT STARING OUT THE window into the abyss.

  The energy generated by his speech the day before was lost in the inertia of the moment. They were prepared to strike, but with no target, ennui set in. He’d busied the men and captains by asking them to redistribute the entire crew among the eleven subs to ensure the best mix of skills and personalities. They’d taken on that activity with fervor, believing it the prerequisite for an imminent launch of an attack on the Alliance.

  When they finished, he still had no answers.

  The men slept in restless frustration in their bunks as he tried to find a solution to the quandary.

  While the simplest approach called for him to blame Porthos, he knew the excuse would fail to resonate with the men. He’d known the Tracker for five centuries, and the man simply didn’t miss like this. They’d long struggled to find Stark unless the man wanted to be found. It was logical to assume, then, that Stark had taught his Alliance his tricks of non-detection.

  He couldn’t tell them—or the Leader—that, though.

  The fact was that he and the rest of the crew felt the heightened Energy in this space and had noted the growing intensity as they’d moved to deeper water. They couldn’t claim a failure by Porthos and mesh that with their own experience. There had to be a reason they felt powerful Energy from the water, a reason why Porthos had reported that Energy contained the signals of hundreds of unique individuals, and a reason why those facts didn’t bring them to an Alliance base in this space.

  He knew there was an answer, struggling to break free in his mind, and felt it was something so obvious he’d wonder how he’d missed it for so long. A glow fish lit up near the window, startling him, and he sat back, watching as the light faded and the fish swam away, pulled along by an underwater current. Athos drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  And then he froze.

  Drifted. The glow fish’s light had drifted. The Energy of the Alliance base, masked by the overwhelming volume of water at these depths, had only recently drifted to the surface, finally enabling Porthos’ detection. The Energy had drifted vertically.

  Why couldn’t it also drift horizontally?

  He sensed the crew of the Chameleon stirring, including Scott, who retained his captaincy despite Athos’ presence. Athos had decided he didn’t want to manage the operations of the submarine, preventing an unwanted power struggle. He stood and moved toward the smell of breakfast.

  “The Energy moved. This isn’t the entrance.” Confused, sleepy faces looked back at him. “The Energy leaked out of the water on the surface, right? It moves with the water. This isn’t where the Energy started. It’s where the bulk of it gathered and rose to the surface. We were doing the right thing yesterday. Now we need to expand the search zone and track the greatest intensity.”

  Scott yawned, though his face grew more animated. “So… we circle through the zone and figure out which direction beyond the original space shows the strongest Energy, and then search in that direction? Basically like a bloodhound following a scent?”

  Athos nodded. “Precisely.”

  Scott rubbed his chin. “So we’ve been looking in the wrong place, then?”

  “Somewhat.” Athos considered, and nodded as the idea cemented in his mind. “It wasn’t practical to think diving deeper would unveil a base of operations. At these depths, a minor crack spells death. The Alliance wouldn’t position themselves for extinction like that.” Further realization struck. “They didn’t build in the water at all. The water is just the door. The base itself?” He looked around at the men. “It’s underground.”

  “But if they’re underground, why are we finding the strongest Energy in the deepest parts of the ocean?” Scott asked.

  It was a fair question. “The entry can be in the deep water. It makes sense from their perspective. We aren’t likely to search a mile or more below the water. And we’d certainly not do so here, where even the surface water is dangerous given the extreme cold.” He shook his head. “It’s clever. But we’ve figured out their secret.”

  “So you’re saying the base is… nearby?”

  “Right.” He looked around for a map. “As I said, we’ll need to dive to a reasonable depth—deep, but not near the threshold—and then begin our new canvassing effort. This time, though, we’ll need to use wider passes and compare observations about the strongest Energy. The strongest Energy will come from the source. That’s the path we’ll follow to the entrance to their lair.”

  The men glanced around at each other, uncertain how to react. They couldn’t assail his logic, but Athos could hear the thoughts and feel the emotions of doubt. They didn’t doubt his words, but they lacked confidence in the man who’d pronounced them. Memories in the form of
thoughts trickled to him, memories of stories of failed Hunts and rumored pre-Aliomenti military disasters. They wondered why Athos would get something right this time.

  They were, at best, apathetic about his plan.

  He stood tall and glared around the room. “The Chameleon will commence a dive to two thousand feet heading due south on course for the Antarctic landmass. The remaining submarines will follow, arrayed at one degree increments surrounding the Chameleon and at the same depth. Men are to note and record any increase or decrease in Energy intensity once outside the original search zone. Am I clear?”

  Silence.

  “I said… am I clear?” He raised his voice, not quite to a shout, but near enough to cause those closest to step back slightly. He could sense the annoyance, the mental eye rolling, and the doubt. After a few painful seconds, the men moved around. The comms operator opened a channel to the remaining submarines, allowing Athos to explain his plan. Thankfully, the men in command demonstrated a stronger immediate commitment to act.

  Athos wondered if that represented a shift in belief regarding his leadership skills, or if the captains simply recognized the importance of action in keeping the crews engaged rather than mutinous.

  The Chameleon altered course moments later and began the dive to two thousand feet, altering course to head due south. The crew reported that the remainder of the fleet fanned out behind them.

  He felt the decrease in Energy intensity as they left the original search zone, and his heart began to sink. He kept his face passive, staring out into the eternal darkness. After all, this should be what happened, he reasoned. If he trusted Porthos’ gift—and he did, though often with deep reluctance—he needed to accept that the Energy would fade outside the zone nearer to the surface.

  They hit two thousand feet some ten miles south of the zone when they hit a new, powerful exterior sluice of Energy. His spirit soared. “Captains, Chameleon is experiencing a new burst of Energy. Has—?”

  “Sir, this is Bloodhound. We’ve had a couple of members of the crew here fall down because the stream of Energy here is so powerful.”

  Success. “This is Chameleon. Have others observed similar reactions?”

  He heard a strong chorus of negative responses.

  “Very well, then. Bloodhound, you are to maintain your current depth and course. Others, please stand by for revised depths and relative coordinates to Bloodhound. We’re going to surround that submarine above, below, and on all sides, shifting as needed to track the strongest path of Energy straight to the entrance of the Alliance base.”

  Twenty minutes later, the remaining subs arrayed out around the Bloodhound, and Athos could sense a change in temperament among the crew and in the voices of the captains on the radio. There was excitement, a sense of purpose, a grudging acceptance that Athos had gotten it right this time. The radio chatter remained active, and they constantly shifted course based upon the strongest Energy readings, trending gradually deeper and to the east.

  “What is that?”

  He snapped his attention to the view screen.

  They’d not dared put on lights for fear of alerting the Alliance to their presence, and had projected on the view screen of each submarine a “night vision” depiction of the world outside. Fish of bizarre shapes avoided the submarine fleet, painted into shades of neon green on the display. But what he saw now were views that stunned him.

  He saw an underwater shipyard much like the one they’d departed several days earlier on the southeastern shore of Headquarters Island. He saw a fleet of submarines of all sizes and shapes affixed to the dock, preventing the vessels from floating away. He wondered why they’d have a dock. Surely they couldn’t board the vessels at such depths, could they? The water pressure at this depth would crush them. And even if it didn’t, exposure would kill them due to hypothermia. He doubted the Alliance would be keen to suffer either fate. So how did they manage the boarding process?

  As he pondered, he watched as a spherical vessel moved along at a steady pace. The sphere emitted a faint light. Athos moved to the clear glass and looked outside. He could see the glowing sphere from here even without sensors. In the complete darkness, it stood out like a lighthouse beacon. He moved back to the “night vision” view screen and watched as the sphere hugged the submarine dock with perfect precision, completing a path in the shape of a vertical oval before moving toward the landmass before them. It slid inside, but not before he saw just enough.

  The sphere glided along an underwater track.

  And another one emerged from the same tunnel the original had just entered.

  “It’s a subway system,” he breathed. “An underwater subway system. They must teleport into and out of those spheres directly from the submarines. And those spheres… they carry them from the submarines into that tunnel and directly into the Alliance base.”

  Scott walked up to him, eyes wide, a broad grin upon his face. “It’s amazing, sir. They’ve been here a long time if they’ve built this. Look at the sheer number of submarines docked. This isn’t a temporary home for a handful of surviving Alliance, is it?” He clapped Athos on the back. “We’ve found them, sir.” He stepped back, as if afraid he’d be executed for the familiar gesture.

  But Athos didn’t care.

  He moved to the communication station, and the operator stepped aside and handed over the headset. Athos asked the man to open a connection to the fleet, and he asked that the men stand by as he contacted the Leader to report their findings.

  He initiated the connection to Headquarters himself.

  “This had better be good, Athos,” the Leader said as he answered. “We have a bit of a situation developing here.”

  Athos swallowed before replying.

  “Sir, I’m pleased to report that the men and I have located the entrance to the Alliance base. The rebels utilize an underwater subway system traversing a tunnel hewn into the Antarctic landmass. The entrance features a dock where a large fleet of submarines rest. The Alliance use the subway system and short-range teleportation for entry and exit from inbound and outbound submarines, explaining the gradual build of Energy over the course of centuries. That Energy eventually percolated through the water to the north and eventually to the surface. The entry is approximately twenty-seven miles south-southeast from the original target zone. It mattered not, sir. We have, without question, found the Alliance base.”

  He waited.

  Finally, he heard the Leader’s response. “Well done, Athos. Well done. You are free to commence the attack at your discretion.”

  The Leader disconnected, and Athos heard the roar of excitement over the communication system and aboard the Chameleon. The warriors were ready for battle, and Athos had now provided them a target for their aggression. The Leader had given them permission to proceed. But Athos didn’t notice any of it.

  He’d only noticed the first compliment ever paid him by the Leader.

  His joy overwhelmed any curiosity about the “situation” at Headquarters Island mentioned by the Leader in paying that compliment.

  VIII

  THE INVASION BEGAN IN SILENCE. It was the way of the Alliance.

  Three massive flying ships, far larger than the single-occupant spheres generally used, descended from the clouds without detection, invisible to the human eye and electronic sensors. The size of the ships prevented the use of the typical landing site in the forest near the human settlement. Instead, they touched down on the rocky shore to the east of the human village, where they’d find little human or Aliomenti interest. They’d made the entire trip encased in nanoskeletons and had purged the ships of Energy before leaving the Cavern the previous day. The walls of each ship turned permeable after each warrior turned invisible, and each invader floated through those walls into the salty air of Headquarters Island. The commander of each ship pressed a single button on a wrist remote, sending the three empty ships back to the Cavern.

  The remotes dissolved. They’d not leave until th
e cessation of fighting. Arrangements for transport home would happen at that time for the survivors. They’d taken a vote. No cloning. They’d accept their respective fates in the battle. Dying here was permanent death for each of them. It hadn’t been his suggestion, and he’d actually voted against the proposal. But the message was clear. For those who’d chosen to fight, closure was more critical than survival.

  They tested the audio communicators they’d use. Nano technology had never evolved to blocking audio waves; if he sneezed, he’d be heard. Voice communication without telepathy was required. They each wore small microphones and tested the equipment, developing an understanding of the minute decibel level required. It wasn’t telepathy, but it was close.

  Will moved inside his nanoskeleton and flipped down the transparent glass eye shield. His team remained invisible to all sensors, but each of them wore a special transmitter that allowed the glass to simulate their appearances. Will could thus “see” the twenty-nine traveling with him, which better enabled coordination for the events to come.

  They set off for the human village, flying via nanos, not daring themselves to walk or run. A single spy might walk without attention, but thirty invisible invaders would generate too much noise with footfalls to remain unnoticed.

  They arrived at the outskirts of the human village twenty minutes later and formed two lines. The lines stretched as they moved, the lead for each group traveling north and south respectively, moving around the habitable section of the village and just beyond the monorail station, until they’d formed a perimeter fence of the Alliance. Will could “see” everyone, and they all adjusted to ensure roughly equal spacing between each person.

  Once settled, each of the invaders expanded his or her nanoskeleton to form a working, sheltered perimeter before removing the backpacks. Will and Hope had packed the bags several weeks earlier, and Will had borne the responsibility to ensure they made it to the Island. Hope wouldn’t have the space in her sphere for the material, and she’d argued that her early presence here to set other defensive equipment exposed her to risk. If she was lost…