Neal Asher: Zero Point (Owner Trilogy 2)

‘Stinks in here,’ observed Langstrom.

‘Seems the maser cooked a few of them,’ said another, stabbing a thumb back towards the rear troop section. ‘Why did you bother to keep him alive?’

‘I thought it was a good idea,’ said Langstrom, ‘as we might need some intel about the ship’s interior.’ Langstrom turned to another member of this group, who presently stood with his back to the rest as he studied a wall console. ‘Do we actually need him, sir?’

That other individual turned round, and Clay felt stark terror as he was examined by those pink eyes in a preternaturally pale face. Alan Saul himself was right here in front of him, just a few metres away from him.

‘We’ll keep him for the moment,’ said Saul. ‘If I can’t access the ship’s systems from here, he can show me a better access point.’

Taking an optic from a pouch at his belt, Saul plugged one end straight into a socket in his skull, then turned and plugged the other into a jack point in the console. He dipped his head, obviously concentrating hard while the others fidgeted nervously.

‘That’s interesting,’ he said contemplatively, then turned his gazed back to Clay. ‘So, tell me, Clay Ruger, why did you offline all the ship’s inducers?’

‘They weren’t needed,’ Clay replied, the gun barrel pressed against his head feeling as if it was about to bore into his skull.

‘I see,’ said Saul, his expression turning distant. Then he added, ‘I have them.’

Clay risked speaking again. ‘What do you have?’

‘Sending now,’ Saul ignored him, ‘though of course it will be a little while before it takes effect.’ He then smiled briefly. ‘I’ve also left a little something for Galahad.’

‘We need to get out of here, too,’ said Langstrom.

‘No problem,’ Saul explained. ‘I’ve disabled all the ship’s armaments, and they just won’t have enough time to get them working again.’

‘That’s it?’ said Langstrom disbelievingly.

‘That’s it,’ Saul replied, disconnecting the optic, coiling it up and putting it away again.

The green lights were now back on, flashing before changing back to amber, and Clay could hear the wail of escaping air as all around him began putting their helmets back on.

‘What about him?’ asked the one who was holding a gun to Clay’s head.

‘What about him?’ Saul shrugged. ‘He’s as dead as the rest of them and, like them, he just doesn’t know it yet.’ Saul donned his own helmet.

Escaping air became like a wind as the weapon withdrew from Clay’s temple. He quickly put his helmet back on. He could have been shot then for doing so, but he would just as certainly die if he merely stood there. The ramp was now part of the way down again, and one of the soldiers was getting ready to climb out. Clay began backing away from them, and was ignored.

What did he mean by ‘dead as the rest of them’?

Just then the charge detonated outside; a bright flash showing through the opening space door, shortly followed by a shower of metal fragments. Clay used this distraction to break away and run for the airlock leading back into the ship’s executive section, expecting to receive a bullet at any moment. As he opened the airlock, he saw shots pinging off the metalwork nearby, then his head was jerked sideways by one ricocheting off his helmet. He threw himself beyond the airlock and ran, diving into one of the crew sections, desperately searching for some kind of weapon and finding only a large wrench. He picked it up and waited.

‘Are you done there?’ asked Scotonis over his suit radio. ‘That door is still open.’

Clay peeked out. The intruders were all gone – he could now see them loping towards Tech Central, the two who had apparently fallen out there getting up and rejoining them. He stepped out and headed for the space door control, and set it to close again.

‘I’m done,’ he replied. ‘We need to go now.’

‘We are going,’ replied Scotonis. ‘Did you send those troops back out?’

‘They left voluntarily,’ Clay replied, slightly worried about the tinge of hysteria in his voice.

Argus

A blizzard of hardened breach sealant swirled through the smoky air. The fight in the dividing section of the Arboretum had spilled out into the main Arboretum itself, and the crackle of gunfire was now constant. Alex’s main problem was identifying his targets. Someone had told them to put their helmets back on, which rather buggered up infrared detection, especially with the numerous fires and other hot spots created by explosions and tracer bullets.

‘It is getting a little fraught up here,’ noted Messina.

It certainly was. The crackling of gunfire in the surrounding trees was frequently punctuated by the crump of a grenade going off. Though they were concealed by the surrounding foliage, it in no way protected them. Alex studied the arm of his suit, where the padding had been rucked up and was spattered with blood. It didn’t hurt and his mobility was unimpaired so he didn’t think there could be much damage. However, he was aware how, in the heat of battle, it was easy not to register quite serious wounds.

Bullets zipped like vicious hornets into the foliage in a nearby tree, leaving severed leaves and twigs drifting away. Alex swung his rifle towards the spot where he suspected the shooter was concealed, but he could see no identifiable target through the smoke.

‘They must have some general idea where we are by now,’ he said. ‘Should we relocate?’

‘Is that what a soldier would do?’ asked Messina, eyeing him doubtfully.

‘Yes, it is, sir.’

‘Sir?’ said the erstwhile Chairman, his expression flat.

‘It’s what I always used to call you.’

‘You knew me . . . from before?’

The hidden sniper fired into the other tree once again, using up an entire clip to hit the same place as before. Whole branches tumbled away and tracers started a couple of small fires. So much foliage had ended up drifting away after that one fusillade that it must soon be evident that the tree was unoccupied. Someone obviously thought they were concealed there, but it wouldn’t take them long to realize their mistake. Similar saturation fire into the tree they were hiding in would kill both himself and Messina very quickly.

‘Did you clock that?’ said Messina.

‘I’m on it,’ Alex replied, adjusting his aim to the source of the tracer bullets. Nothing much was identifiable through the murk, but at least he now had a better general idea of the shooter’s position. He centred his cross hairs, squeezed the trigger and held it back, emptying a full clip, then he quickly changed clips and waited.

‘That seems to—’

A hail of gunfire hit their tree, smacking and cracking all about them, raking up nests of splinters like porcupine spines. Alex reached out, grabbed Messina by the shoulder and shoved him off the edge of the platform. The man didn’t need any more impetus before taking himself rapidly down the tree trunk. Alex hurled himself down next, head-first, flipping over at the last moment and landing heavily on his back, before bouncing and then floating up again until Messina grabbed him. The fusillade of fire continued for a while longer, then abruptly cut out.

‘So you knew me from before?’ said Messina.

‘Yes, I knew you from before,’ gasped Alex, turning towards him.

Messina nodded contemplatively, then pointed towards a nearby penetration lock. It seemed a sensible place to go, since it offered more cover than anything else nearby. They began to crawl towards it.

They were just ten or so metres from the tree when a grenade exploded behind them. Both hung on to the ground, twigs and leaves storming above them, shortly followed by the whole tree tumbling end over end. Yes, if they’d stayed in it, they would be dead by now.