missed you so much,” he could hear her trying to keep herself together as she went on, sniffling first. “You know what they say about making the same decision twice? I'd do it three times, five times, over and over again for you, even if I have to start calling you Jake.”
“You might just have to, I'm used to the first name,” Jacob looked behind him to see that there were just a few people left to descend into the lower tunnel. Things were moving very quickly. “I think my turn to go down is coming up, I'll see you soon Ayan. I'll be there soon. Just-” he tried to think of the right words but nothing clear, no gentle way to say what was on his mind came. “Just don't expect me to be the same, there are years, things I've done since you knew me.. ”
“I understand. I'm not the same either, we both come with surprises.”
Any surprise she had for him couldn't compare to his history as a hunter, all the people he'd killed on Pandem but he decided there would be another time for that; “I'll see you soon,” he promised quietly.
“Okay, be careful. Tell Alaka that if he doesn't get you here in one piece I'll make him into a fur rug,” she said with a chuckle, he could hear her tears clearing up.
Jake laughed as much in mirth as in joy as he unconsciously nodded at his communication and control unit; “I'll tell him, he'll get a laugh.” He was just about to end the private communique but added; “I'll be there soon,” once more before closing the line.
Terry Ozark McPatrick and Minh-Chu Buu
The darkness of the old sealed tunnel was just what Oz wanted after the ordeal that had passed. It was like the quiet after a midnight storm. He sighed and looked around, his head piece drawn back so it was an open hood.
The concrete closest to the old transit line that once led to the space station terminal had aged badly, the cracks in the ceiling allowed moisture to drip, the big metal magnetic ties that had been pulled up so they could properly wall the tunnel up were once piled but had settled and were strewn out. Tons of metal, just left down here to rot for God only knows how long. I wonder what the crews who sealed this place would think if they knew that these old holes would save our lives. He thought to himself as he eyed the well lit double service doors further down the cavernous tunnel. They had been pried open and scouted hours ago. Where Dementia's knowledge of the old tunnels ended Alaka's began. The nafalli had been through most of the tunnels before while exterminating rim weasels and he led them straight to a forgotten maintenance access that could take them into the spaceport. The disused service hallways let out right behind a small West Keeper outpost, all that lay between them and the main lower landing platforms and hangars. The Clever Dream was waiting, and he hoped it would be ready soon.
In the division of command he had drawn the shortest straw. Ayan was to keep the lines of communication open between herself and Jake or Alaka, Jason was always busy gathering information about what the enemy was doing while he kept a line to Dementia open, and he was to try and keep in touch with everyone they left behind as he managed the refugees and rebels who had come with them.
His job was the most depressing of the lot. The last transmission from the survivors they had left behind was nothing but panic, screams and a plea for help. Dementia had kept trying to connect to the machines they'd left behind with the refugees with no success.
Both he and Jason tried to warn the refugees that the Holocaust Virus would take over completely, that it wasn't safe to keep anything controlled by an artificial intelligence near or in the camp. Yves wouldn't acknowledge their attempts at communication and if anyone heard their general broadcasts through local channels there was no indication.
When it happened less than two hours later the androids and artificial life driven service machines lashed out in a sudden flash of violence as though they were taking vengeance for being forced to switch sides. He'd seen it himself, one of the resistance fighters opened a video link just as it started, begging for help of some kind, a new patch or a means of escape.
Few things phased him, Oz was a trained soldier, he'd seen the All-Con Conflict as a member of a marine unit, gone on actual boarding actions and commanded a cloak ship in the middle of a war zone with one mission; to hunt down and destroy the enemy. The sounds of civilians and rebels alike being ruthlessly cut down at close range was beyond anything he'd experienced. When the screams started on his communicator he only looked at the video portion of the transmission for a moment before turning it off.
There was nothing they could do, the refugees and resistance fighters had surrounded themselves with the combat, security and assistance bots that Dementia had freed. They were inside the camp attending the wounded, mending broken equipment, even assisting them in their plans to fend off the West Watch.
Telling the people who had followed them into the transit tunnels was hard. He didn't show his own grief, only delivered the information as accurately and as gently as possible. He didn't give false hope, he answered questions directly and he allowed the group to comfort each other. It was all in his officer's training, but to those who left friends they had made while defending the barricades behind it just didn't feel like enough. He wanted to offer them his sympathy, tell them that there was still some chance that someone made it out, that if they mounted a rescue mission there would be something to recover, but none of it was true so he had nothing but the hard, cold facts. The few who felt motivated to mount a rescue mission had to be told, over and over again, that there was no chance of survival. When that didn't work he played back the recording, let them hear the screams for themselves.
No one blamed Ayan, Jason or himself. That was a relief but little comfort. Many of them blamed Dementia and even Oz was led to wonder why he hadn't said anything about his countermeasures to the Holocaust Virus not being a permanent solution to Yves and the other resistance leaders. He had to put that aside, however. It wasn't something he had time to ponder and if there was anyone who was better suited to solve that puzzle it was Jason. His officer training came in handy once more; Dementia and the Clever Dream were their ticket off of Pandem so he went to work reassuring people that Yves had been warned, that Dementia had done everything he could have. It was a lie, but one that might hold them together until they were safely away.
It was difficult to raise spirits, but there were other facts to offer. A group of seasoned rebels and refugees were on their way. At the head of the group was Alaka; someone who knew more about these tunnels than everyone combined and had been responsible for directing them away from the overtaken refugee barricade. Beside him was their old friend; Jacob Valance, a well known bounty hunter and privateer. They were waiting for them so they could get to a ship with a cloaking device and an artificial intelligence that could fight off the holocaust virus. Those were the facts that, after they had a few minutes to mourn, Ayan, Jason and himself started to quietly remind them of. “We're getting out of here soon,” he reassured.
When things finally quieted down he found the most peaceful spot he could. He sat on an upturned block of broken concrete beside the sealed protective bag that held Minh-Chu Buu in suspended animation. Behind them was the thick concrete wall that had been erected ages before to block the tunnel off from the old spaceport receiving station.
As he opened a meal bar he couldn't help but remember his captivity on the Overlord II. “You know, no matter how good these ration bars taste, what they do with the texture, they'll always remind me of the condensed sludge chunks they fed us on that ship,” he chewed through that first bite slowly, enjoying the dark quiet. “It's funny, you kept calling yourself crazy, even back in the sims before I had met you, and I really didn't believe you were a little touched in the head until you hit the afterburners on that heap we escaped that ship on. You should have seen our faces, most us looked like they thought the thing would tear itself to pieces,” Oz couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. “But then Jonas climbed into one of those ball turrets and I wasn't sure who was crazier. I wasn't far behind though, so there's no telling who gets the nutso prize. I felt so alive when we were on the First Light, like every moment counted for something. Even when we recorded a report we knew someone we'd run into on the ship would read it, it wasn't going to some stiff functionary or assessment program who we'd never meet. I'll never forget Jason's face when he saw the first one you recorded in the shower. He couldn't stop laughing for I don't know how long and all he said when we came to look was; 'he could have just recorded the audio!'”
Oz worked his way through another bite of his meal bar as he thought back. “You know, I barely knew you. Even in all the sims we went on before the First Light. You were so busy down on the flight deck when we got aboard I didn't have much time then either, but I tell ya it's not the same out here without you. Jonas is Jacob now,
