ABC - Penance
Chapter 61

Jericho’s Compound, Outskirts of Pan City

8th February V27 (2047)

“I’ve found them” Georgia declared, excitement turning her velvety voice into the kind of wet dream fantasy that phone sex operators would kill for. Mouse, standing beside the Pre-Cog’s net diving array, gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder in congratulations. It was a subtle gesture of affection and it drove like a dagger into my jealous heart.

“Show me please, Georgia” Jericho-Three demanded. We were crowded into the Command room of his compound, reviewing the combined data I had obtained from Charlie at Camp One and Ms Prendergast from the Wonder Bar factory. Around the table was Jericho -Three, Trixie, Ghost and myself, with Georgia and Mouse at the Diving station.

Separately the data had offered tantalising glimpses of the Society’s operations like pieces of a scattered jigsaw, but together it formed a clearer picture. Pieces were still missing, but now we knew what we were looking at.

“The Society loaded a lot of material and people onto this ship, the Santa Velona” Georgia explained. Images moved on a big holoscreen that was projected above the central table, showing a ship berthed at the Pan City docks. Cranes loaded containers aboard from SAND Group Auto-trucks, while passengers were delivered in unmarked vans and cars.

One figure climbing the access stairs to the ship was highlighted. It was obviously male, middle aged and rather hefty. Despite the Chameleon mask he wore, body movement algorithms identified him as former Head Warden Acres.

Following him up the stairs came another masked figure, casually watching his surroundings as he ascended the metal steps. His hidden face looked once in the direction of the dockside security cameras, as if he was aware of the observation yet didn’t care. Before the algorithms made their prediction, I knew it was Jacob Tan.

“They wound up their operations here and escaped on the ship” I said aloud. “Any idea where they were headed?”

“The Santa Velona is registered in Brazil, part of the Southern Block” Georgia told us. “Shipping manifests state she was going to San Francisco, but once they leave the Zone’s territorial waters it could change to any destination they choose”

“Hang on, you mean the bloody ship is still in the Zone?” I nearly shouted. “How soon until it leaves our waters?”

Georgia checked her data and turned to face me, her beautiful face splitting into a wide grin.

“At current speeds, Orbital Two estimates it will leave the Zone borders around midnight tonight”

“So we blow their asses out of the water with an Orbital Strike?” I asked Jericho. He shook his head in denial, giving me a look of disappointment.

“We can’t and you know why, Alvarez” he chided me. It was my turn to nod in solemn agreement.

“Yeah, I know” I conceded. “We’ll never know for sure if we nailed the pricks. They might have transferred already to another vessel, letting the Santa Velona sail on as a decoy”

My boss sighed deeply, a human gesture he seemed to make a lot around me.

“The collateral damage and loss of life would be unacceptable, Alvarez” Trixie explained on behalf of her boss. “Those cargo ships are run by Limited AIs and mechanicals, but they still have human crew and passengers aboard. Archimedes and the Board are not likely to sign off on a strike against a civilian vessel”

“So how do we get them?” I demanded. “An air strike by Border Defence is going to be as indiscriminate as an orbital one. The only way I can see us getting to Acres and Tan would be a boarding action, and no-one is going to be crazy enough to volunteer for that”

Trixie and Ghost shared a look, then nodded in silent agreement.

“A water borne assault will be too slow and risky” the ex-Jill declared. “The only way to get close enough will be stealth VTOLs. We can land right on the cargo containers and storm the ship from the high points”

“We’ll need an airborne tanker to refuel the VTOLs mid-flight” Ghost added. “At maximum speed they won’t make it on the Hydrox fuel they carry. Even then I reckon the craft will be on vapours by the time we catch up to the Santa Velona”

I stalked over to my partner, glaring up at his face.

“What’s with this ‘we’ crap?” I wanted to know. “This is a full military strike, not a Police action. We don’t have any business being involved in this mission”

He gazed back at me, his expression concerned and understanding. I suddenly realised I could read him so much better than before, not just because he was showing more emotions. It was because I cared about him, like one of my family.

“You don’t have to come with us, Alvarez” he told me softly. “I have Tan’s images on file, so I can identify him on the ship”

“Don’t be as ass, Ghost” I snapped. “I’m your superior officer, so wherever you go I have to as well!”

“Glad to have you on the team” Trixie said, clapping a solid hand onto my shoulder and tilting me sideways. “Now let’s get this mission sorted!”

=====

Coral Sea, Northern edge of Pan Oceanic Special Zone

The rumble of the stealthed engines of our VTOL had been my constant companion for the past eight hours, strapped into the cramped belly of the Ceramite laced aircraft. I glanced at my visor display, showing the time as half past eleven at night. Beyond the small windows, the world was dark, only faint moonlight glinting from a sea about five hundred meters below.

Somewhere out in the night sky were two more VTOLs, all advanced stealth models that would not be detected by radar or heat scanners. Travelling in the darkened sky, even a skilled observer would replace it impossible to spot the mottled black and grey hulls of the aircraft until they were right on top of them.

I settled back into my seat and looked at my fellow boarders. In this VTOL the strike team was comprised of Ghost and myself, backed up by six Guards from the Central Brigade. In her VTOL, Trixie was leading a team of five Guards and two Sentinels armed with Storm Guns. The final VTOL was being piloted by remote feed from Trixie’s aircraft, with the entire strike team made up of eight heavily armed Sentinels.

This third VTOL would land first, using the expendable Sentinels to secure a landing point for the other two aircraft. We had no idea what defences the ship would be armed with, nor how many troops could be aboard to resist the boarding action.

To our rear were a pair of high flying Interceptor jets, part of the usual Border patrol that could be expected to be operating in the area. They were on standby to come to our assistance if the situation called for it.

They were also the mission fail-safe under direct command from Jericho-Three. If the Santa Velona could not be stopped before leaving the Zone’s territorial waters, he could make the call to sink the vessel. Whether we were still onboard or not.

My Boss would catch a lot of hell from the Board of Governors if he did that without their authorisation, but I doubted he would take that into consideration. He played his own game, one that seemed often at odds with the very AI he was supposed to serve.

“Ghost, do you think the Boss knows about Archie?” I pondered out of the blue to my partner.

Ghost examined the Guards sitting impassively in their crash harnesses, all of them watching me and him with mild interest.

“Don’t you ever think before you speak?” he enquired, his tone willing me to shut the fuck up.

“Nope” I replied easily. “That would slow me down too much”

“Fine” he snapped back. “And to answer your question, he probably does. He is the oldest of the Avatars, still living in his first incarnation. He would have to suspect something”

“Yeah” I agreed. “He is way too sneaky not to know”

I settled back in my padded harness, letting the buffeting as we raced through the sky jiggle my butt like a massage chair. My ass cheek had fully healed, only six pink scars showing where the flechettes had wounded me. I reckoned I would need whatever arcane healing powers that Pony had given me in the fight to come.

It promised to be a vicious one if what Georgia had uncovered was true. She wasn’t certain, as the data she compiled still had significant gaps. Yet she believed that this second AI, the one we thought was Archie, had been taken from Pan City by the Darwin Society.

If that was true, then there was a good chance the Santa Velona had the oldest and possibly most dangerous AI in the world aboard. Unless we could take control of the ship, my bet was Jericho-Three wouldn’t let Archie escape from the Zone.

We had to capture this rogue AI, or all of us would be sent to the bottom of the sea.

=====

The Santa Velona, Coral Sea

“Target located, four klicks out” announced our pilot, a One Series Jack optimised for vehicle operations. Everyone rechecked their gear in pairs, with Ghost tightening the straps on my Tactical Armour first and reviewing my equipment, then I did the same for him.

My armour was a full set of Ceramite plating in a mottled black and grey camouflage, with Amour weave filling the gaps that didn’t articulate. I had an armoured Chameleon mask covering the front of my head, linked via induction cable to the Smart Machine Pistol hanging from my shoulders by its strap. A standard issue pistol was at my right hip, with a Shock Rod on my left side.

A bandolier of spare magazines for the Machine Pistol ran across my chest, with two EMP Grenades snugged into their own pockets as well. The Machine Pistol had an underslung EMP emitter fitted, a single shot weapon that fired a focussed pulse compared to the broad spread of the grenades. All of the strike teams carried EMP weaponry like this, but it was risky to deploy them considering my companions were all Guards and Sentinels.

They were our last ditch weapons, to be used if the Santa Velona had more armed mechanicals than we expected. No-one other than Ghost and I knew about Archie and the likelihood he was aboard the ship, although Jericho and Trixie may suspect it. If the AI was on the ship, I felt certain he would have armed drones and mechanicals to carry out his orders.

Once I checked Ghost’s equipment, much the same as mine but he had a bigger gun, we got back into our harnesses. The final approach was going to be hard and fast so we needed to be strapped in securely.

Our VTOL was last in the line of aircraft now skimming the waves in the roiling wake of the cargo ship, closing in like aerial predators on the massive vessel.

“Two klicks” the emotionless voice of our pilot announced. My gloved hand reached out of its own accord to grip Ghost’s in his adjacent seat. He locked his hand around mine, squeezing it gently through the armour weave.

“Stay with me and I’ll keep you safe” he said quietly, then sealed his helmet visor.

“I know you will” I answered him, but I doubt he heard my tiny voice over the roaring engines.

=====

“Contact! Contact!” our pilot declared in a monotone, jinking our craft violently to port. Ahead of us I could see bright lines of laser beams stabbing through the darkness. Brief glimpses of light flashed and sparkled over the water as the leading VTOL was hit, one engine pod shearing away completely in a shower of burning fuel.

Our pilot swung us out wide and gained altitude, the Santa Velona visible through the cockpit canopy. I saw the lead VTOL of our group spewing cannon fire into the laser pods mounted on the ship’s rear deck, exploding one and then ramming a second bodily. The aircraft skidded in a fireworks display of sparks along the decking before slamming into the stacked containers.

“Team One is aboard and deploying” came Trixie’s voice over our comms link. ’Team Two on approach now. Team Three, take out the forward gun pods!”

“Copy that” our pilot affirmed and the VTOL shuddered as he unleashed our own cannon. Flashes and explosions lit up the bow of the Santa Velona, the heavy depleted Uranium rounds from our nose mounted gun ripping apart the laser pods and targeting arrays.

The pilot let out a low grunt as incandescent beams punctured the Ceramiglass canopy, one taking his left arm and the back of his ejection seat out in a stream of molten droplets that painted the vehicle roof. A second beam decapitated one of the Jacks sitting opposite to me, his helmet imploding under the intense energy beam.

Smoke filled the cabin as our wounded pilot struggled to bring the craft under control. We spun in a vomit inducing spiral, losing height rapidly, then hit with a resounding crash onto the main stack of containers. All of us were thrown around in the impact, only the crash harnesses keeping us secure. I felt like my head was being wrenched off by an angry gorilla, then the craft juddered to a stop.

“Go, go, go!” called the leading Jack, releasing the exit ramp by the simple expediency of triggering the explosive bolts. It hardly mattered now, as this VTOL was not flying again. The five Guards lifted their harnesses clear then surged up the tilted cabin floor, dropping from sight onto the ship that lay beyond.

I undid my harness and clambered to the pilot’s seat. He was barely conscious, only his superior Enhanced body keeping him alive. While Ghost covered me, I took a can of Foam from the medical kit and sprayed the gaping wound where the pilot’s left arm used to be.

His eyes opened, visible in his clear faced flight helmet and he gave me a weak smile.

“I can take it from here, Inspector” he assured me. His right arm grasped the medical kit from my hands, then he made a shooing gesture. “We went to all this effort to get you aboard. Go and replace your man”

“Copy that” I replied numbly, then with Ghost’s help we opened the side access ramp and climbed onto the container laden deck of the ship.

Fires and a few undamaged spotlights illuminated the scene, showing me a long wide central deck stacked three layers of shipping containers high. More would be stored in the vast holds, filling a vessel around three hundred meters long. At the stern was a raised bridge, containing the controls for the massive ship. Rising atop the bow was another, lower construction. According to the plans that Georgia had located, this held the passenger quarters and a secure cargo compartment, kept isolated from the main holds.

Whatever and whomever had been hidden aboard this ship, it was here that we expected to replace them.

A swarm of combat drones, no bigger than an alley cat, came skittering across the metal containers towards our position. Red lensed camera eyes burned in the darkness, giving them the appearance of creatures summoned from hell. They made a noise like the drumming of metal cymbals as they came, razor sharp pincers gleaming in the light.

“Welcome to the Santa Velona!” a man’s voice boomed from a distant loudspeaker, echoing across the deck. It sounded like Warden Acres to me, from that time in his Arena at Morituri’s. “I hope you came to play!”

As the horde of killer machines surged towards us, I drew my Shock Rod into my left hand. My right pushed the Machine Pistol forwards, bracing it with the strap across my shoulders. I flicked the safety off and got a green light from the Smart Link.

“Fuck you, Acres” I snarled and began to fight.