Then people were running—and like predators sensing weakness, the crowd came after them.
Seventy-plus officers abandoned their vehicles and fell back toward the outer perimeter. At least three hundred theoretical civilians came after them. Even from several kilometers away, Roslyn heard the incoherent keening scream as the affected victims charged the Guardia.
She knew what had to happen next and forced herself to keep watching. Everyone who was going to have to live through this was innocent, attackers and Guardia alike. They deserved her witness.
The vehicles of the barricade were pulled aside to let the fleeing officers through. There were still maybe forty Guardia on the perimeter, and Roslyn could feel their hesitation. More loudspeakers were blazing. Sonic dispersers were active.
The icons of Nix grenades scattered across the charging crowd as several automatic grenade launchers opened up, but the supposedly perfect knockout gas did nothing. Flash-bang icons, their overwhelming sound audible even from Roslyn’s perch, seemed to slow the charge…but only for a moment.
The gunfire was inevitable, and it broke her heart anyway. The Guardia didn’t even have a lot of lethal weaponry—very few Protectorate police forces carried lethal weapons by default—but they’d issued automatic rifles to the outer perimeter.
It took a moment for Roslyn to realize they’d opened fire too late. Even automatic weapons couldn’t slow a charge by ten times as many attackers as defenders when they only opened fire at twenty meters. The mob were among the Guardia far too quickly.
“Incoming,” Mooren suddenly snapped. “Heads down.”
Roslyn obeyed instinctively—only looking up to see two of Song of the Huntress’s assault shuttles come screaming in a moment later. Their engines flared white-hot as they slammed into a jet-fueled hover above the chaos.
Twenty-millimeter ground-support cannon opened up moments later, the two assault shuttles strafing the streets as exosuited Marines leapt out, plunging to the ground like angry meteors as they charged to the Guardia’s rescue.
“Chambers, you there?” Daalman’s voice asked, clearly having overridden her way into Roslyn’s coms.
“I’m here,” Roslyn said in a shaky voice.
“This is a nightmare,” the Mage-Captain said in a disturbingly calm voice. “You’re on the ground; I’m linking you to Dickens’s command and control.
“We had two shuttles up just in case, but I wasn’t going to defy the regional Governor until things really went to shit. We’ve got the feed you forwarded us, but Dickens is going to need eyes on the ground.”
There was a long pause.
“I am assuming the situation is sufficiently diffuse that Huntress’s weapons will only make things worse, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Roslyn confirmed. “I think the locals are going to be willing to accept your help now, sir.”
“I don’t care if the locals are willing anymore,” Daalman said grimly. “I don’t actually have to listen to them. It’s just rude to drop Marines without permission.”
19
More shuttles delivered the rest of Song of the Huntress’s Marines over the next half-hour, doubling up the perimeter and making sure nothing left the quarantine zone.
Roslyn and her people remained on the rooftop, watching the tactical displays.
“I wish we could be more help,” Mooren muttered. “There’s still a lot of unaffected people in the area, and I don’t know how safe they are. Without something to lash out at, that mob is going to either start breaking into buildings or breaking out of the perimeter.”
“I know,” Roslyn said. “Keep your eyes peeled for movement toward the apartment buildings. We’re going to have to do something if the civilians are in danger.”
Something was probably going to be air strikes from the assault shuttles. That was the last thing Roslyn wanted to enable or order, but what could they do?
“All of the Marines are down,” Mage-Captain Daalman informed her. “I don’t suppose you have any clever ideas, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Nothing that leaps to mind, sir, except seeing what the medical report says on the prisoner we sent up,” Roslyn replied.
“I just got that,” Daalman admitted. “The blood sample is normal. Bioscans are normal. Girl is now in a coma, and Dr. Breda thinks we might lose her.”
“How is she normal?” Roslyn demanded. “She got back up after being SmartDarted, sir. There is something going on.”
“I agree. But our medical systems can’t detect whatever it is. That’s a problem, Commander, as we try to establish who we can let out of quarantine.”
“Yes, sir,” Roslyn agreed. “Sir…I think this may be related to my investigation. Specifically, to the bomb.”
She was responsible for this. The Guardia and Marines had already killed dozens of people. Dozens more had killed each other. All of this was because Roslyn had rushed into Killough’s apartment and found a trap.
Daalman sighed.
“I suspect the same,” she admitted. “But this, Lieutenant Commander, was not something you could have anticipated. You reacted to the clear and present danger in an entirely appropriate manner.
“This? This you can’t hold yourself responsible for. This is down to the bastards who placed the bomb. Please tell me you can find them.”
“I don’t know yet, sir,” Roslyn said. “I have a lead, a contact, but I need access to Huntress’s sensors and computers…and you can’t risk bringing us aboard.”
“So far, quarantine protocols on your shuttle suggest that there is no active infection risk,” Daalman told her. “The medical work-up on our prisoner is perfectly clean, after all.”
“Can you have Dr. Breda send that to me?” Roslyn asked. “We might find something she missed… I have an idea of what the people here were working on that I can’t share.”
“I’d argue that the doctor needs to know, Commander Chambers,” Daalman told her.
“That depends on if I find anything to suggest a connection,” Roslyn said. Given the orders she had from the Prince-Regent, she was going to err on the side of caution for a bit longer.
“Fine. We need to start planning to extract you, regardless,” the Mage-Captain said. “Lieutenant Herbert is still in isolation, so sending her back down should be fine.”
“I feel like I should be here until the end, sir.”
“Permission denied,” Daalman said bluntly. “I’m leaving the ugly choice of whether to risk the unaffected civilians
