Son of Sedonia

25

Assets

“SIGNAL LOST–CHECK INPUT Device” had been blinking on every screen in the Control Room since the Purge. From his post, Kruger could only watch the chaos unfold. It was his first week on the job. One of the dozens of new hires, he was nowhere near qualified to debug, hack, or otherwise duct tape the servers into working again. That was left to his trainer, a fat, pale, red-bearded tech named Scotty. And Scotty looked like he was about to keel over. Sweat poured down his stretched gray jumpsuit. Each burst of his rapid staccato key-strokes ended with a critical error. Again. And again. And again.

Drummond dashed from console to console, yelling frantic nonsense at each tech. Though things looked pretty well screwed, Kruger couldn’t help but feel relieved that matters were out of his hands. He took advantage of his short stature and bean-pole frame, tucking himself behind Scotty’s seated bulk.

“Somebody give me a f*cking visual!” Drummond shrieked, “Something! ANYTHING!” No one spoke up. Only the sounds of clicking, typing, and the buzz of error messages.

“It’s simple! THINK!” said Drummond, “What would cause the Purge to trigger a server crash? How are those systems connected? Didn’t I pay one of you useless slobs to write the system to begin with?!” Scotty stopped typing in his Neural. Froze. Kruger stared at the floor, waiting for the axe to drop.

“Scotty,” said Drummond through his teeth. The Warden’s attempt to look threatening as he stomped to the desk was more of a preteen girl’s tantrum. Still, Kruger saw Scotty gulp behind the bearded neck-rolls.

“I-it’s some kind of weird edge-case,” Scotty blurted, “I’m doing all I can to track it down but the debugger——”

“But nothing! You’ll find it and you’ll fix it, or you’ll be looking for a new job with a big, fat, black mark on your RFID Profile! That’s if I don’t have you arrested, locked up, and driving a Crawler for the rest of your pathetic life. You—Do you hear me!?” Scotty lurched forward in his distressed office chair. It creaked and snapped as he winced, rubbed his chest, then fell out. The wet smack he made when his body hit the tile made Kruger cringe. Scotty’s shared Neural image above the desk disappeared. That’s...not a good sign.

“No no no no no, don’t do this to me you fat bastard!” Drummond crouched beside Scotty’s beached mass and tried to roll him over. Scotty wouldn’t budge.

“Get up and fix this!” Drummond gave one last feeble push, then plopped back on the floor. Grabbed the thick wrist and felt for a pulse. Dropped it. He lolled his head backward and stared at the ceiling. Kruger leaned out to steal a look at his late trainer. A mistake.

“You!” said Drummond, “Yes, you, come here!” Drummond circled around the desk and grabbed Hendrik by the arm. He dragged him to the terminal, righted the broken chair, and pushed him into it.

“Sit! Type! Do something!” Drummond said.

“Sir, I—I’m just a trainee,” Hendrik said, his own heart thumping in his chest.

“You didn’t lie on your resumé, did you? You can program, can you not?” said Drummond. Kruger, light-headed, sat at the desk. He pressed a finger to his temple to summon his own Neural, then searched his history. Found Scotty’s last shared data cache, then opened it. Miles upon miles of debug scripts materialized in front of him. The language looked familiar enough, but the system itself would be like reverse-engineering a fusion reactor with a screwdriver and a pair of pliers. How the hell do I even start?

The squeal of interference on Drummond’s radio pierced the moment. Everyone jumped. Kruger almost pissed himself, half as much from relief as from shock.

“Sir, this is Officer Rigby at the doors to Sector Five, requesting orders,” said a voice over the radio. Drummond fumbled with his transmission display, then pressed his throat mic.

“Offic—Officer—Officer Rigby, what is your situation?! A report, give me a report!” Seconds passed in static filled silence. Finally a click at the other end.

“We pushed the inmates back into Sector Five and successfully sealed the doors before the Purge. Killed four of theirs,” Rigby paused, “Lost two of ours.” Drummond paced the floor, tapping his chin. Touched his throat.

“Rigby, I need you and your people to open those doors, and—”

“Open them?! Are you insane!? I just sacrificed two men, and y—”

“Open the doors, assess the situation inside, and report back to me immediately, or find yourself out of work and facing a congressional hearing! ‘Non-fulfillment of contractual duties resulting in a catastrophic loss or damage to Virton Energy property and personnel.’ I don’t want that. You don’t want that. Do. Your. Job.”

“Sir, this...” Rigby sighed over the radio, “Yes sir. But it’s gonna take some time. Only got one Engineer after the last fight.”

BOOOOOM! The entire Control Room shook, knocking Kruger out of the broken chair. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling, some of it into Kruger’s bloodshot eyes. He spat and rubbed at them. Tried to blink through the pain to see what was happening. The blurry shape of Drummond sat sprawled next to Scotty’s corpse. Speechless, the Warden stared at the ceiling. Kruger had seen his son Josh do the same thing when he’d skinned a knee falling out of a Superway train. The unstoppable tears bubbling up behind a childish need to be tough. Josh. Kruger wiped what he could from his eyes, refreshed the Neural screens, and started typing.

“What the hell was that?!” said Rigby over the radio. Focus descended slowly over Drummond as he felt around for the transmit button.

“Rigby,” Drummond said, “I want you and your men to report back to Control at once. We—”

BOOOOOM! The Control Room swayed as if it were perched on the San Andreas during the LA Quake. Drummond crashed to the tile floor, cracking his hip. Kruger’s chair snapped in half and dropped him onto Scotty’s soaked back. No time! He rolled off the dead man, pushed up to his knees, and kept typing. As the fuzz faded from his ears, he heard Drummond screaming.

“Lock us down! Blast doors!”

Kruger had learned that much. With a few keystrokes and swipes he found the directory. primaryControl>security>perimeter>doors>alertProtocol_lvl5. Sheets of blast steel and reinforced titanium dropped down into place in the two entryways. From there, Kruger expanded other directories and rifled through their contents. A picture started to form.

“Call the Hub! Tell them to send more guards...mercenaries...hell, paramilitary! Anyone!” Kruger dug through and found the Comms directory. Tried to connect. No signal.

“Sir,” said Kruger, “That last explosion...was the Comms Tower. We’re cut off.”

“Cut off...” said Drummond. The entire room fell dead silent. Quiet enough to hear the distant pops of secondary explosions and hull breaches high above where the Comms Tower had been. Then, suddenly, closer pops. No. More like footsteps. Movement in the ring of skylights high above caught Kruger’s attention.

Figures in pressure suits walked on the hull outside. For a moment Kruger lifted. Maintenance crews! The damage report must have gone through and triggered a work order. Except these men lingered around the skylights. Drummond squinted up at them.

“What are they doing...?” The suited EVA workers divided themselves one to each skylight, and mounted long, bulky devices to their hip harnesses. Laser Drills?

“Shit, close the shutters! Do it now!” yelled Drummond. Kruger shook as his hands flitted through menus and subdirectories. Above, white-hot beams of light powered on in unison. Slowly boring molten holes through the six-inch plate glass. primaryControl>security>perimeter>skylights>alertProtocol_lvl5, ENTER! The titanium shutters snapped closed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief until glowing red hotspots appeared in the center of each shutter. Panic erupted. Techs burst from their chairs and scurried to the walls. They clawed open the emergency supply lockers and pulled out the pressure suits inside, most of which were torn apart in the struggle. Kruger navigated to the door control again. If I could open them, then set them on a timer...

Too late. White beams streaked into the Control Room, melting limbs off of a few of the Techs. Josh...I— Air roared out of the room through the glowing holes, taking the contents of the room with it. Kruger clung to the edge of the desk. One-by-one his fingers failed his grip. He blacked out as he flew through the escaping air.