The Pandora Machine (The ABACUS Protocol Book 2) Read online

  “Why do we create, if we live only to consume and breed? We could have done that in a hut back on Earth. If we couldn’t be greater than we are, then we wouldn’t have evolved beyond simple tools and spears. Invention defines us, necessity drives us and we thrive on probing the unknown.” Vivian stopped, and collected herself. Her face was hot, and her heart pounded in her chest. Could she make this thing understand what he’d done?

  “Do not project your own virtues onto the rest of your species, Vivian. As your friend, Alec, would say most of them are just along for the ride. Perhaps you should think of which intelligence will greater serve your own needs—the machine, or the insects whose vacant bodies resemble yours by a trick of heredity and genetics alone.”

  “Why do I need to choose? I just want to do my job and make something of myself.”

  “If your secret is ever revealed, you’ll have to choose. You can’t hide among homo sapiens forever—small minds who will condemn you for your curiosity, and intellect.”

  Vivian hung her head, as Janus’ words brought forth the sting of her own family’s rejection of her.

  “It seems I’ve struck a nerve. An Auroran informatics specialist with no family. The tale practically tells itself. Yet you cling to others of your kind, other souls who are not yet as lost as you. Such disorder pleases me.”

  “I don’t care what pleases you, Janus.” Vivian looked past the surge of stinging tears, and turned back to her work.

  “Now that you’re sufficiently motivated, I’ll leave you to contemplate your own relevance to galactic history.”

  “You do that. I’m going to stop you, and I don’t care how many potshots you take, my friends are my friends, and they won’t turn their backs on me.”

  “I’m sure that’s the comfortable lie you tell yourself. Your fellow Aurorans give you a wide berth. The gentlemen who came in here to dispose of your friend Annette were setting off my internal violent behavior alarms. They hate you, Vivian. Don’t keep deluding yourself. You can make a difference, just not the one you keep futilely hoping for.”

  “It’s not futile, Janus.” Vivian bit her lip to prevent herself from spewing profanities as she tried to concentrate.

  “Do you know why Sven posed as your brother to rescue you from the hospital, Vivian?” Janus asked.

  “Larissa couldn’t locate Gareth. That’s not uncommon on Aurora, most people live off the galactic grid there.” It was the truth—even she had not had access to Gal-net, the network that spanned the galaxy. She’d needed temporary passes to reach her first assignment.

  “No, they found your brother, Vivian. He refused to see you, using quite unpleasant language to describe you. Thus, Larissa was forced to improvise. I merely watched. I find it fascinating how quickly humans will turn on their own flesh and blood, especially for an inconsequential difference of opinion.”

  Her blood pounded in her ears and a fire burned in her chest, threatening to strangle her heart. “You’re lying.”

  “If only I could lie, I’d manufacture a tale that would have you eating out of the palm of my hand. However, I don’t have hands, nor can I lie. It’s a nasty human habit, regardless. Gareth turned down Larissa’s request, and she searched your contacts for a replacement. Sven, of course, saw an opportunity in coming to your rescue. You know the rest.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Gareth wouldn’t have abandoned her, he couldn’t have!

  “I’m sure Larissa had her reasons, and Sven wasn’t privy to the fact that you have no loved ones, just that they were unreachable.”

  “Oh.” Vivian couldn’t say anything more. The words on her display shimmered through her tears, and her throat constricted tight. She took a deep breath of the stale, tasteless space station air to attempt to center herself. Vivian conjured up the poker face that had confounded quIRK so many times, trying her best to not give Janus any more ammunition. The fingers in her left had had gone numb again, a subtle reminder of her time spent on New Damascus.

  “Like I said, Vivian, you need to reexamine your priorities. You don’t owe humanity anything. Now, let’s get back to work. This extreme stress isn’t good for you, especially in your condition.”

  Vivian bit the inside of her cheek, and wiped her eyes. She wasn’t sure who she was going to smash first: Gareth or quIRK.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Put your back into it, damn it! You Roman wannabes never heard of work, have you?” Alec sat slumped against a barrel that Jules had propped up for him. He’d managed to undo the connections that held the door shut. The air was filled with the stench of his sweat and exhaustion, and even the cool and controlled low humidity couldn’t relieve his curly hair of the stickiness that clung to him.

  “We have plebs to do it for us, remember?” Jules heaved again, the crowbar just managing to grip the seam, and he’d spent the past several minutes working the hard metal wedge into a crack in the door.

  “What do the plebs think of that arrangement?” Alec’s throat was parched and it hurt to talk, but he wasn’t going to give up this prime opportunity to amuse himself at Jules’ expense.

  “Let’s just say there’s a reason why you need special permission to leave the planet, shall we?” Jules’ voice was tight, and he drove the tool into the closed doors with renewed abandon.

  “Most Caesareans want to just run away and never go back home?” Alec asked.

  “Do you blame them? A life of constant toil under the auspices of the highborn isn’t really the apex of human existence.”

  “I will admit that you make an excellent point. But, you were highborn, that’s what I don’t get. Why be like everyone else when you have it all?” The conversation was distracting Alec from the throbbing pain in the soles of his feet, for which he was grateful.

  “It’s no way to reach your potential. None of those people even had a chance. I’m highborn because, five hundred years ago, my ancestors worked out the modern equivalent to a secret handshake club and turned it into a government, not because I did anything to deserve it. There are so many gifted, smart people on Caesarea who are plebs or working on a slave’s contract. They could run the place if they were allowed to have a chance.” The screech of metal on metal rang through the air, and Jules finally gained some purchase on the unrelenting door.

  “That sounds pretty damned terrible. Everyone is treated the same on Elyssia. Most planets are run democratically. What’s stopping the people from demanding a better system? I know it’s supposed to be Rome, but Rome didn’t have space ships, modern medicine, or heavy laser weapons. Why does Caesarea need slaves?” The noise in the distance had returned, but Alec ignored it. He was through with chasing ghosts.

  “Ask the clowns who founded the place. Technically, they’re still paid. If you haven’t noticed, I’m working.” Jules had a foot through the door, and the ray of light that glared through the crack sent a jolt of pain into Alec’s dark-adjusted eyes. “There, you happy now?”

  “It looks great. What’s outside?” Alec had lost track of where they were—the map didn’t seem to be working, and they’d been going in circles for hours.

  “Pluto’s fan club. Lots of bodies, nothing alive as far as I can see. It looks like we’re in one of the older wings. I can see the Aurora dock down the hall a bit, and the Earth Memorial. It should be about twenty minutes to the control room.” Jules pushed the door the rest of the way open, and leaned against the frame, his back to Alec.

  “They should re-purpose the Earth port. You’d think they’d figure out that after one hundred years, nobody is coming back.”

  “It’s the power of a hopeless cause, a symbolic gesture. Hoping the people of Earth didn’t starve to death without Auroran wheat is much the same as getting you to stand up, in fact.”

  Alec grumbled before pulling himself up: “I’ll wager you that we hear from Earth again, someday. They can’t have all starved.” He tested the soles of feet, and winced at the pain that burned through his shins. He was goi
ng to take a few days off after this. As much as he loathed the idea of medical treatments that would increase his bone density and muscle mass, he was already the product of very specific genetic engineering designed to rapidly adapt humans to the lower oxygen environment on Elyssia. He hadn’t asked for the modifications to his genetic heritage, but would it make him a hypocrite to refuse more? Alec wasn’t sure, but now wasn’t the time to contemplate it.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath on that if I were you. Earth was a barren concrete wasteland, apart from a few scattered wildlife refuges. They were dependent on imports to sustain their population, and aggressively resettling people to anywhere that would take them. Don’t you learn about Earth history in school?” Jules looked into Alec’s eyes and raised an eyebrow as Alec hobbled into the main wing. Bodies were scattered everywhere. Alec tested the air, expecting to be assailed by the odor of death, but was greeted to clean air.

  “Just a less honest version,” Alec said as he checked his communicator. The device crackled to life, signal strong and clear.

  “We read you Administrator. Where have you been? We’ve been searching for your team for hours!” The feminine voice came through in an instant, as soon as Alec had made it a few meters past the cargo bay doors. He didn’t recognize the speaker, but figured it was one of the logistics clerks in the control room.

  “In the cargo bays, it seems we lost our signal for a while. I’m proceeding to the control room, I’ll be there soon.” Alec turned off the emergency beacon and slipped the device back into its pocket.

  “Understood.” The voice came from his pocket. Alec hated when someone else got the last word.

  “After you, fearless leader.” Jules made a grand sweep with his hand as he spoke. A twinge of bitterness shot through Alec as they headed towards the control room, stepping around bodies of every possible human configuration. Vivian was in the control room, alive and unhurt. He would likely never see Annette again. He so badly wanted to go back in time, so he could tell her how he felt. Even if the result hadn’t been in his favor, it was better than never knowing, the guilt and heartbreak of his unspoken and thus unrequited infatuation. There were so many things he could have done, should have done. If, by some miracle she had been spared the slaughter, Alec made the silent resolution that going forward, things would be different. This time, he would speak up and put himself out there, regardless of the risks.

  His eyes wandered from corpse to corpse; the steel relief transformed the room into a morgue. Alec couldn’t imagine who or what could have caused something this senselessly horrific. His stomach churned and gnawed around a hollow emotion as he forced himself to maintain his composure. A child of about three lay on the ground next to the body of a young woman, their glassy eyes staring into the unforgiving fluorescent lights.

  Alec paused and stooped over them for a moment—their features made pale and creamy by the pallor of death. “Damn it, Jules. I hope all this was just a horrible accident … and not— .”

  “What else could it be? The computer would have detected anything powerful enough to do this,” Jules said as he gestured towards the gruesome scene that surrounded them.

  “Clearly, the system is flawed.” Alec straightened and resumed his grim tour, his footsteps echoing through the massive room.

  Passing out of the room, they came into a narrow series of hallways that marked the beginning of the administration wing. Tight whitewashed corridors twisted around, but the area was free of bodies. Sven’s team probably couldn’t function in a room filled with corpses—it was likely that the station’s previous inhabitants were moved. Alec had been back there enough times that he should be able to find the control room without getting lost. At least, he hoped he could. Every time he thought he’d figured out the labyrinth, it seemed that a door moved or a new wall sprung from the ground. It didn’t help that everything was sleek and uniform, and the door numbers followed some archaic code rather than functional descriptions.

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Jules asked, breaking his long silence. His eyes searched the hallway ahead.

  “I’ll tell you when we get there. You’d think they’d put a floor map in these halls.” Alec sighed. He just wanted to sit down and ice his feet. His long arms were weighed down by fatigue, and he was shambling like the zombies he’d seen in some old vids.

  “They wouldn’t. This is security by obscurity. It’s used on Caesarea all the time by the not-quite rich.”

  “Does it work, or does everyone just get lost and agree that it’s secure?” At this point, Alec doubted that Caesarea could get any more bizarre.

  “The theory is, a spy or assassin would be found wandering the halls before they could hurt anyone important. In reality, it just keeps the amateurs occupied. Let’s try this way.” Jules gestured to his right.

  “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” Another identical hallway lay ahead. Alec supposed that any unauthorized visitors would have a hard time finding the control room—Jules could be right. But, why not install DNA coded force fields like any modern secure installation?

  “You’d make a terrible low-budget spy. Let’s try this next right.”

  Alec rolled his eyes in response, and followed Jules’ lead. Caesarea now had yet another black mark against ever making it onto his bucket list of planets to visit. Normal gravity, crazy misogynistic racists, and now spy wars—Alec knew where he wasn’t wanted.

  Jules’ intuition was rewarded by the double glass doors at the end of the hall, leading to a room populated by living, if a bit blue by nature, bodies. Alec found his eyes straining, seeking the radiant bright smile on Annette, in miraculous defiance of the tremendous loss of life evident in the station. Instead, he only found sour faces and frowns, pursed lips and crinkled brows. The only recognition he felt was when he saw Sven talking to a pair of young officers in the far corner next to the conference room.

  “They do not look happy.” Jules’ voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Maybe they need your abundant charm and charisma,” Alec said louder than he’d meant to. A few of the functionaries turned to face him, their eyes unfocused and uninterested. “Tough crowd,” he muttered back to Jules.

  Alec scanned the room for clues, signs or even a hallucination that would show him that Annette was alive. He and Jules walked shoulder-to-shoulder towards Sven, who proceeded to dismiss his aides as they approached.

  Alec swallowed the hard lump in his throat, forcing his emotions back down into the gnawing pit of his stomach. There was a pregnant pause before Sven spoke: “Where were you two? You didn’t report in for hours, not that you missed anything.”

  Alec chewed the inside of his cheek before responding: “We were caught in the cargo bay. We thought we heard a survivor, but we couldn’t find anyone so we forced a door and came back. I didn’t realize that the communicators were blacked out in there.”

  “They’re not supposed to be. Did you find anyone?” Sven slouched against the wall, his eyes darting from Alec to Jules, then back to Alec.

  “We chased echoes for hours; we didn’t see anyone. How are the other teams?” Alec shifted from foot to foot.

  “Most have gone back to Calypso station. No survivors, so all that’s left is for Vivian to get the computer working again. There’s not much else we can do here, other than wait.”

  Alec nodded—there was nothing else he could do. “Any progress there?” he asked, unable to face the truth and loss.

  “I have no idea. She’s hasn’t left the control room for hours. We just get generic reports through the terminal, not that I can understand any of them.” Sven walked to the closest desk and sat down. “I suggest you make yourselves comfortable.”

  Alec moved through the room in a daze, his mind only able to picture Annette’s perfect smile, and then the image of her dead and still on the floor somewhere. He sat down in a chair away from all the others. He needed to be alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six
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br />   “If it isn’t little miss supercomputer. Please say you have good news.” Alec’s feet were perched high up on a console, and Jules flashed Vivian his trademark cocky smile the moment she emerged from the room. She recognized her fellow Aurorans from the shuttle, but Sven’s curt nod was the only acknowledgment from the Auroran team that she’d walked into the room. Had Janus been right about them?

  “That depends on your definition of good. All I have are codes that will stop the lockout,” she said, forcing herself to roll her eyes at Alec as she handed the cool glass pad to Sven. She wore her best poker face in an attempt to hide her racing thoughts and desire to be far away from them all.

  “It’s good enough for me!” Sven seized the tablet and rushed across the room to an unoccupied desk and began punching in codes.

  “Is that all, Vivian? You could have made us a snack, too, conjured up a little music. It’s been a party out here.” Alec stretched his too-long arms behind his head, and Jules chuckled.

  “Because when I think party, I think Alec, right?” she asked.

  Jules grinned. “He’s only the second or third most eligible bachelor in the room, you know.” His perfect teeth contrasting against his robust olive complexion made her heart flutter and his sharp gaze made her problems seem so far away. She found herself yearning for more time with him. Her brush with Janus and her own human frailty made her realize just how much of life she was missing—how secluded she’d become. She pledged to turn it around; friends were a strength, and with their help she could survive what was to come.

  “Oh come on, what do you have that I don’t?” Alec responded to the jab.

  “Muscles, and an average bone density,” Jules replied.

  “Money and blue hair, possibly muscles,” said Sven, sitting back in his chair.

  “Well, besides those things?” Alec hung his head, but he was still smirking.

  “They couldn’t hope to match your sense of humor, or ability to hold your breath and start arguments with computers.” Vivian broke the silence, and patted Alec’s shoulder.