The Glorious Becoming (53 page)

The woman sounded surprised. “You can’t confirm a simple callout?”

“Everything is a process. Right now we’re on step one of about fifty. When we get to fifty, we’ll have a lot more to disclose.” She moved on, motioning to another reporter.

“Can we confirm for the record that Strom Faerber was assigned to this unit?”

June nodded. “I can confirm that, yes.”

“Was he present on this callout?”

“By all indications, yes.”

Scott listened as the questions kept coming. Were Strom Faerber’s whereabouts known? Had Klaus been contacted by EDEN Command? What would Strom’s death mean to the captain of Vector Squad? None of those questions Scott cared about. There was only one thing he wanted to know.

“Judge, do we know whether or not there are any survivors?”

June’s face gave her answer away. “We have numerous aircraft combing the target location to look for survivors. But at this time, we are not optimistic.”

Not optimistic. Scott’s shoulders sagged.

“Dude...” said Jayden beside him.

Running his hand through his hair, Scott turned away from the display. Pushing through the crowd, he fought to find breathing room. He found it in the hall before the hub.

Falcon Platoon, his first unit, gone. Colonel Lilan and Major Tacker, his first commanding officers, presumed to be dead. Scott didn’t know or care about Strom Faerber. That was the rest of the world’s problem. The loss of Lilan, Tacker, and whoever else was left in Charlie Squad was what hit home. That was his unit. If not for Chicago, Scott might have never been noticed and never transferred to Russia. He, David, Jayden, and Becan might have been in that crash with them.

Just as concerning as the loss of Falcon Platoon was the mention of
Novosibirsk
in the press conference. It was obvious to every single person watching that June wanted to avoid that topic at all costs. Something was plainly wrong.

A prompt came up on Scott’s comm. Glancing at the display, he saw Natalie’s name. She must have just heard the news. “Hang on, guys,” he said, stepping away and bringing the device to his lips. “This is Remington.”

“Scott...” Sure enough, that’s what the call was about. He could tell by her voice. “My God, have you heard?”

“Yeah,” he answered somberly. “I heard.”

She hesitated. “Are you okay?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer at first. Lilan, Tacker, and the others were a jolt to his heart. But Scott was a man who’d lost his fiancée and who was trying not to lose Svetlana, someone he cared about dearly. The prospect of loss followed him everywhere. He was used to it. “It won’t be a distraction, ma’am.”

“Scott, I’m not worried about a distraction. I’m worried about
you
.”

“I’m fine, captain.” He felt like being formal. It just seemed appropriate.

Another pause. “Just remember I’m here. You can always come talk. If you—if you need to.”

He realized how dismissive he sounded. It wasn’t what he meant. “I’ll come see you tonight.” He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it, but it felt like a natural part of the conversation’s progression. At least she’d leave him alone until then.

“Hey, man,” said Jayden, “what do you think’s goin’ on with
Novosibirsk
?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answered. The impression was that
Novosibirsk
was involved somehow in the crashing of Falcon Platoon. Could that possibly be true?

He was tempted to comm Dostoevsky. Or Thoor himself. But something told him to hold off on that.
Let the situation play out. See what EDEN reports first.
If there was something Scott needed to know, someone from
Novosibirsk
would get in touch. Nothing from the news report or the press conference changed the fact that he needed to find H`laar. This was day two, and they hadn’t even officially begun the hunt.

“All right, guys,” Scott said discreetly. “Esther’s supposed to be starting her work today. There’s nothing any of us can do until we hear from her. Forget about Falcon, forget about
Novosibirsk
. We’ve gotta have a one-track mind, here.”

The others nodded.

“Boris, you’re a big player in this. Have you looked at any of the public consoles, to get a feel for anything?”

Boris nodded. “It has been quite amazing. This kit from Antipov, it is like technician’s dream. It uses an encryption
de
-convertor, which I have never even seen before. Before the source signal even touches the primary pathway, I am able to completely bypass the interceding guardian.” He moved his arms emphatically. “And you should
see
the security system here as compared to The Machine! It is like being a physicist then going back to kindergarten. They are using a guardian that cannot even
process
a double—”

“Okay, okay,” Scott said, “whatever, I believe you.” Nerd language. “Can you gain control?”

Sighing, Boris answered, “Yes, commander.”

“Good. That’s all I want to know. Keep at it today, keep working, then show me something tangible. Go with him, Jay.”

The Texan acknowledged, and the two departed. Auric faced Scott solemnly. “If
Novosibirsk
did attack those ships...”

“I know,” Scott said. Auric, like him, understood the full gravity of the situation. If The Machine was involved in this, their mission in
Cairo
suddenly got a whole lot more complicated. And complication was the last thing they needed more of.

He’d know where he stood when he heard from Esther. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she was the hinge of the operation.

Their future fell on her.

27

THURSDAY, MARCH 15
^TH
, 0012 NE

1757 HOURS

CAIRO, EGYPT

THAT EVENING

T
AP
. T
AP
. T
AP
. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

High heels on tile. The repetitive sound echoed on
Cairo
’s ivory floors.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Esther’s passive brown eyes looked ahead through her rectangular glasses, her inverted bob dancing gracefully as her feet kept perfect rhythm. Dressed in her tan cashmere suit and licking freshly glossed lips, the girl who had only several hours earlier been Esther Brooking paused by a hover tram pickup point. Zipped handbag in hand, she tapped her nails as she waited.

Catching sight of a security guard standing by a column, Esther sashayed toward him, leaning her body tentatively his way. “Excuse me?” The guard cocked his head and smiled. She smiled, too. “Where should I go to meet a Mister Holmes?”

“Giro Holmes? With Xenobiology?” he asked.

Laughing embarrassingly, she said, “Yes, that’s the one! I’m a civilian contractor. I’m supposed to be seeing him today, though I must confess, I’m a
tad
lost.” She watched as a tram pulled up, turning back to the guard and wincing gently. “I’m not even sure which tram I’m supposed to take.” Everything about her body language was intentional, particularly the way she cocked her hips. Her brown eyes settled on the guard’s.

He chuckled. “Well, if you want to go to Xenobiology, that’s not the one you want to get on. I will show you where to go.”

Her face lit up. “Thank you so much!”

As he began to walk, he glanced back. “Where are you from?”

“I work for a company in Melbourne,” she answered. “It’s on the southern coast of Australia.” Extending a hand, her smile remained. “Calliope Lee.”

“Ekpo.”

“Just Ekpo?”

He laughed. “Yes, just Ekpo.”

“Well,
just
Ekpo, I think you
just
saved my day.”

Several minutes later, “Calliope” found herself being led through the various twists and turns of the Anthill. Occasionally groups of armed operatives rushed past them, as if en route to something urgent. After witnessing this several times, Esther raised a genuinely curious eyebrow. “There seems to be a lot of activity. What’s happening?”

Ekpo shook his head. “It is because we are at orange alert. The defense force has been activated.”

“Orange alert?”

“You have not heard?” he asked, looking at her strangely. When she didn’t answer, he went on. “
Novosibirsk
has attacked a ship from EDEN. They killed Klaus Faerber’s son.”

Esther’s jaw dropped.
“What?”
For that single moment, her guise disappeared. She quickly reassumed it. “I mean, how? Why?”

“They sent ships to America and somehow intercepted the unit with his son. They shot him down then tried to return to
Novosibirsk
. Only one ship made it.”

“Why would
Novosibirsk
do that?”

Ekpo shook his head sadly. “I do not know. I have never met anyone from
Novosibirsk
, but I have heard terrible things. Their general is named Thoor. He is a bad, bad man.”

“He
must
be,” said Esther. “To kill Klaus Faerber’s son.” She watched Ekpo with hesitant eyes. “So...what happens in an orange alert? Are you going to go to battle?”

“I will not, no. Unless
Novosibirsk
decides to come visit
Cairo
.” He chuckled. “But I don’t believe they care about us.”

Brushing her bob back past her ears, Esther kept her deeply troubled eyes averted from him. “So you don’t work much with
Novosibirsk
?”

“No,” he said. “We are unrelated.”

“They don’t ever send extraterrestrials this way? I know how much focus
Cairo
puts on Xenobiology. It’s the reason I’m here.”

Motioning with his arms, he affirmed casually. “We get things from time to time from all bases. But I do not do much with that. Holmes will be able to tell you much more.”

Esther smiled and extended her hand. “Well, I look forward to meeting him.”

For the next several minutes, Esther followed Ekpo away from the security hub and down several winding halls. She scanned the area around her constantly, her high heels tapping rhythmically as she followed the security guard. The more they walked on, the more the demographics changed. Fewer and fewer soldiers walked about now. It seemed as if everyone was some sort of scientist.

“The tram to Xenobiology is not part of the regular tram system,” Ekpo explained. “Some of the other science wings also have their own trams, but Xenobiology is the most secluded.”

As their trek continued, the hall they were on gradually grew wider. When it reached its climax, they were standing in a kind of miniature pavilion. The room was sparsely populated, despite the various circular tables that sat along the walls. At the end of the room was a red metal door with a pair of armed guards standing beside it.

When Ekpo was in earshot of the guards, a short dialogue in Arabic took place, the names
Calliope Lee
and
Giro Holmes
arising once from the otherwise indecipherable chatter. The two guards occasionally looked at Esther; she met them each time with a timid smile.

“I explained to them who you are,” Ekpo finally said, “and that you are here to see Holmes. One of them will take you to him now.”

Eyes widening, she asked,
“Now?”

“Yes. Run your I.D. through the reader.” Pointing to a wall-mounted card reader beside the door, Ekpo stepped aside to allow her to near. When she ran the card through the device, a green light appeared. The door slid open. “You are now in the system. Because you only have a civilian I.D., you will not be able to pass through the other security measures. Simply present your I.D. to one of the guards on post and they will manually bypass whatever checkpoint you are at to let you through.”

Nodding, Esther rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sure I can find Holmes on my own—I’d hate to take someone away from their post.”

Laughing quietly, Ekpo winked. “This is what we do, Miss Lee.”

“Well thank you so much.”

“I must return to my post now,” he said, waving as he stepped back. “They will take you to his office.” Turning, Ekpo left her alone with the guards.

Walking through the red metal door, one of the guards motioned for her to follow. She obeyed, soon finding herself walking down a short hallway that ended with a second checkpoint. A retinal scanner was built into the wall. Ignoring it completely, the guard instead approached a small keypad mounted beside the door, where he typed in a short combination. Esther stretched her neck to watch the input, but to no avail. The guard’s body was blocking the keypad. There was an affirming chirp, and the door slid open.

Beyond two immediate security checkpoints were the trams bound for Xenobiology—two parallel pickup points heading off into the distance. The room was as plain as could be. No murals on the wall. No ambient noise. Everything from the walls to the ceiling was stark white. It was more than obvious that this had been constructed after EDEN’s purchase of the theme park metropolis.

“Where do the two trams go?” she asked.

Approaching the tram station on the right, the guard once again inputted several codes into a terminal keypad. Another green light, another chirp. “Heaven and Hell,” the guard answered humorlessly. “It is what they call Confinement and Administration.” He looked back. “Administration is Hell.”

Though Esther said nothing, the hair on the back of her neck bristled. Looking at the terminal display for the rightmost tram, she watched as a digital ticker counted down. One minute, thirty-seven seconds, and moving: the time it would take for the tram to arrive.

Stepping briefly to a glass window shielding the standing zone from the tram track, Esther looked at her reflection. Angling her head, she scrutinized her glasses and inverted bob. Absently, she gripped her handbag tighter.

The time it took for the counter to tick down was spent in silence, as nary a word came from the guard or Esther. The first true sound she heard was the hiss of the tram as it drew near. Moving away from the track, she watched it slide smoothly into position. It was a small tram—only a single car without a driver. On the tram’s door was a small image of a flame.