“The last one survived being blown up,” she pointed out. “This one only had to survive being sprayed into the air and scattered across the city. If anything, it’s probably more vulnerable than the first one.”
Neither of those really matched up with something that dissolved under the controlled radiation of a standard bioscan, but that was the evidence Roslyn had to work with. Everyone who might know more was dead.
Well, not everyone.
“We have to continue on as planned,” she told Bolivar. “Once we’ve got a secondary filtration setup outside the secured nanotech lab, that gives us a chance to triage people and make sure they’re clear of the nanites while separating our definitely clean population from the risk groups.
“For now, I want you to keep people moving and keep that drop zone clear. Let me know once our likely infectious zone gets within five kilometers of us.”
“What are you going to do?” Bolivar asked. They’d both thought she was going to take most of that back from him.
“I’m going to be listening to everyone’s reports…and talking to the Augments we captured alive.”
39
Unlike the first time Roslyn had ventured into the Orpheus lab, this time she had full communications with everyone. Drones and relay stations and even physical cables had been laid to make that possible. They couldn’t afford delays in communication, not as expanding mobs of Orpheus’s victims were heading in their direction.
She wasn’t sure how many people were infected or even how many were dead. The Orpheus nanotech appeared to leave other infected alone, but everyone and everything else was a target.
There was going to be a lot of heartbreak in Nueva Portugal when this was over—and that was assuming that Roslyn managed to fix things. Her only current hope for that lay with the handful of Augments they’d shot with SmartDarts.
Only one of them was conscious when she reached the cell they’d been stuffed in. A trio of nervous Guardia officers stood watch, but they recognized her and silently allowed her past.
The conscious Augment was carefully shuffling across the floor, as if every single motion required specific thought and analysis. With her cybernetics offline, that was probably true.
She still heard Roslyn approach and looked up, bright green eyes flashing in the dark as she saw her captor. A few commands opened the door to the cell and Roslyn gestured for the woman to join her.
“Let’s have a chat,” the Navy officer told the prisoner. “I’m hoping you can help me.”
“I’m not seeing any real reason for me to bother,” the Augment replied. “Runa Hase. Master Sergeant, Republic of Faith and Reason Augment Corps. KCD-One-Five-Nine-Z-D-Five.”
Roslyn crooked a finger, lifting Hase off her feet and hauling her out of the cell with magic. Unable to resist the bonds of force, the Augment glared at her in silence until they were in the cell next door, which was just as bare.
Sighing, Roslyn used the same trick to pull two chairs and a table in from the guard station outside—to the surprise of the Guardia officers, from the sounds of it.
“Make sure the other cell is sealed,” she told them loudly. “Just because people look like they’re asleep doesn’t mean they are.”
She’d closed it behind her, but a double check never hurt.
With that settled, Roslyn turned her gaze on her prisoner, standing stiffly next to the seat.
“You may as well sit down, Ms. Hase,” she told the Augment.
“Runa Hase, Master Sergeant, Republic—”
“The Republic was officially dissolved by act of the Republic Parliament nineteen months ago, as required by the Hyacinth Treaty,” Roslyn reminded Hase. “You are not a soldier of any of the so-called Free Worlds—who would disown you in an instant to avoid conflict with the Protectorate.”
Four of the former Republic worlds had voted against rejoining the Protectorate. Each had their own reasons, and they hadn’t managed to create any kind of joint structure. Each of the Free Worlds stood alone—and their governments were very aware of the power imbalance between one world and the Protectorate’s hundred-plus.
“Since the Republic no longer exists and you do not serve any government that would claim you, you are not a prisoner of war,” Roslyn laid out calmly. “You are a terrorist, involved in the manufacture and deployment of a nanotech bioweapon.
“Even the Republic did not allow or condone the development of biological or nanotechnological weaponry, Ms. Hase,” she reminded the Augment. “By the laws of the Republic, let alone the Protectorate, you are guilty of crimes against humanity. The evidence of this facility is more than sufficient to condemn everyone working in it.”
“Runa Hase, Master Sergeant, KCD-One-Five-Nine-Z-D-Five,” Hase reeled off, her eyes focused on the ceiling. She didn’t seem to have any illusions about her ability to threaten Roslyn without her cybernetics, but she remained standing and unhelpful.
“Right. Take a fucking seat, Ms. Hase,” Roslyn snapped.
She locked gazes with the green-eyed brunette across the room. Hase was pale, almost disturbingly pallid—presumably from living underground in the lab for extended periods.
After maybe fifteen seconds, Hase finally took a seat in the chair.
“The only reason we are having this conversation is because your boss apparently had a fuck-everybody plan that involved deploying an infectious version of the Orpheus weapon,” Roslyn told the woman. “Right now, you’re on the right side of the lab’s biofilters, but that means you are using up space I can use for at least a dozen actually innocent people.
“It would be entirely reasonable, I think, to transfer you to holding cells on the surface.”
“That would be a war crime,” Hase hissed.
“Would it?” Roslyn asked. “Or would I be acting to protect the people I am actually supposed to defend? If I can preserve several dozen lives by risking a handful, is that a crime? You’d still be held under all normal protocols.”
“And when the nanites take us, you’re a murderer,” the Augment told her.
“Or would I have murdered the dozens of people I
