“If you don’t, having only one is worse than useless,” says Sarmax. “Never know when something just fucking
“That’s what the Praesidium intended to do if rogue elements got ahold of these megaships,” says Jarvin. “They could just beam in commandos and—”
“So could the Rain,” says Spencer.
Jarvin laughs. “The Coalition’s has been played. If they have these devices, it’s only because the Rain wanted it that way.”
Spencer looks at Sarmax. “Who installed yours?”
“That’d be Sinclair,” says Sarmax.
“Let’s trash this place,” says Jarvin.
Szilard shoots into the shaft and disappears from sight. His second bodyguard fights on for about two more seconds before getting torn apart. The newcomer vaults over the catwalk, fires its jets, speeds down toward Haskell. She’s still falling, picking up speed. The figure catches up to her just before she hits the bottom.
You’re well off the beaten path,” says the man.
He looks pretty old. His beard’s gone almost white.
His face is wizened, but his eyes are bright. He smiles like he’s trying to cover up how scared he is.
“Where the fuck is it?” demands Lynx.
Destroying the teleportation chamber isn’t a no-brainer. Once it’s done, they can no longer get out. But the only place they can escape to is the ship they came from. And the risks of anyone else catching up with them using the same technology is just too great. A few silenced rounds of ammo and some good old-fashioned battering with their fists, and the room may as well have just been bombed.
“Nothing like burning bridges,” says Jarvin.
“Let’s go,” says Spencer.
The ship’s zone clicks in around him.
Haskell feels herself seized by gloved fists; she watches walls rush by as the suited figure fires its jets, hauls her back up, and dumps her unceremoniously onto the catwalk. The shattered bodies of Szilard’s bodyguards lie nearby. The president’s nowhere to be seen.
“He’ll be back any moment,” says the interloper.
Where’s what?” asks the old man.
“Where the fuck is the telepor—”
“Let me handle this,” the Operative says to Lynx on the one-on-one. He opens up the channel again: “You’re Dr. Arthur Sorenson.”
“Is that a question?” says the man.
“More like confirmation,” says Lynx. “We’ve already got your resume.”
Sorenson looks at him a little strangely. “Which resume?”
“That’d be the real one.”
They leave the wrecked equipment behind, head out through passages that look familiar. An identical set of doors as on the
Who the fuck are you?” says Haskell.
“A secret admirer.”
“With access to the teleport machines—”
“Narrows it down, doesn’t it?”
“Goddammit, who—”
“First things first.”
It all happened so long ago,” says Sorenson.
“May as well have been yesterday,” says Lynx.
“At least tell me which ones you are.”
“Originals,” says the Operative.
Sorenson’s eyes narrow. “Where’s the third?”
“We’re asking the questions,” says Lynx.
“So how about you give us a guided tour,” says the Operative.
The elevator hurtles toward the rear of the ship.
“Which is where Sinclair is,” says Sarmax.
“You got it,” says Jarvin.
“And Indigo’s a prisoner too?”
“They may not be prisoners,” says Spencer.
The figure leans forward, unlocks the restraints on Haskell’s suit in one fluid motion, and beams her data. Haskell realizes they’re coordinates—that the figure is giving her directions. Only—
“These aren’t for the portal,” she says.
“Because it doesn’t lead to where you need to go.”
“Szilard thought it led to the—”
“He was wrong. Use the map I just gave you; Sarmax’s own back door. Eighty klicks south to Shackleton. To the South Pole.” A pause. “You know about the South Pole?”
“I’ve known all along.”
“Then you know what lies beyond it.”
“South of every south,” says Haskell.
They look at each other.
“And you?” she adds.
“I’m going back the way I came. To run some more errands. Which starts with blowing this equipment behind me.” The figure tosses plastique, starts to turn—
“Are you Matthew Sinclair?” asks Haskell.
The figure says nothing, just starts up the machinery, surging jets and heading in toward it. Haskell’s eyes narrow.
“Morat?”
A laugh: “Not even vaguely.”
You want me to show you around?” asks Sorenson.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” says the Operative.
“No need. But there’s no teleportation device here.” Lynx laughs. “Do you want to die, old man?”
“I dream of it every day,” says Sorenson.
They may be running a takeover sequence,” says Jarvin
“They may be running this place already,” says Spencer.
“Only one way to find out,” says Sarmax.
The elevator comes to a halt. The doors open.
Haskell watches a door slide open in the pillar, watches the figure step toward it—and turn back toward her
