Sindaris hears the creatures screeching as they are being devoured by their own kind. The screams are bad, though they are only audible; he can feel each bite as if it is happening to him.
Suffering as his wounds throb and ooze, he realises blood loss is making him increasingly dizzy, but he forces himself to run as fast as his legs can carry him.
He makes it back to the streets of Blackhaven and disappears into the night, leaving the horde to tear each other to pieces.
Rennin has Dead Star running in low power mode as he flies low over the Currajong district, maintaining thruster emissions at a minimum. Desolator 1 still looms overhead but since the transponder’s destruction, it hasn’t made a move. The satellite’s particle beam has cut a three-kilometre gouge across the district, creating a burned scar that gapes obscenely amongst the houses on either side.
Rennin finds an overpass and brings Dead Star gently down under it. Lieutenant Sabre and Corporal Verge are first out of the craft, guns at the ready, efficiently securing the area.
Caufmann is next out and his face says it all. He’s fuming. Rennin doesn’t like his expression at all, and follows closely behind.
Out of the ship, Rennin is hit in the face with an icy cold wind and the sounds of rain. Raddocks Horizon rains a lot lately, he notes.
“William!” he calls.
Caufmann doesn’t acknowledge the hail, his eyes are on the blast zone, heading towards Del’s last known location.
Rennin sprints up and grabs his arm. “There’s no reading on Del’s location, he’s gone silent.”
“He’s alive!” Caufmann twists his arm away, attempting to break away from Rennin’s grasp but his artificial hand remains firmly locked on the doctor’s forearm despite his shoulder nearly being torn from its socket.
“I believe you, he’s alive, but during the Desolator strike there was a very sharp spike in secondary command channels. A signal calling itself ‘Harvest’ was picked up by Dead Star’s COM log.”
“I have to find him,” Caufmann says looking distraught. “Look at these messages,” the doctor says showing Rennin his gauntlet screen, scrolling through pages of text. “Del was screaming for help.”
Caufmann’s hands are shaking so badly that Rennin can’t read the messages clearly, but he gets the gist. Del has been reprogrammed. “He’s gone. We’ll have to come back for him.”
“I’m not leaving him! I’m analysing the coding from the signal he received and it’s disturbing to say the least. They’ve turned him into a slave! Let go of me, Rennin.”
“We need you, William, we can’t just fly out of here now. A military installation just fired on us!”
“Keep your voices down!” calls Verge in a harsh whisper.
Caufmann’s glare is fast becoming murderous. “Desolator satellites are not to be used on civilian or moving aerial targets. Someone exploited it for their own ends and will not have had Defence Force approval for such a strike. Therefore, the military don’t know about it and once you make it beyond the borders of the city you’ll be fine. I’ve uploaded an incredible amount of classified data on this infection for you to give to the first commander you find outside the city. It will ensure you’ll be welcomed, not arrested.”
“You can’t stay here alone, and we are leaving. Today. You’ll die here.”
“Del is the closest thing to a son I will ever have,” says Caufmann, so forlorn that Rennin forgets he’s talking to an android.
Rennin looks away for a moment, glances at the gunship and the others, then back to Caufmann. “You’re the best weapon against this infection if it’s already spreading outside Raddocks Horizon. You’re a doctor and a scientist, you have a responsibility.”
Caufmann’s expression is a very real one of incredulity, not a mere emotional feint. “You dare lecture me on responsibility?”
Rennin releases Caufmann’s arm and puts his hands out placatingly. “Look, you said earlier that something is happening in Blackhaven. That’s only one suburb from here.”
“Something is controlling the contaminants, and I believe it’s there.”
“If we find it, it might help us get Del back. The contaminants are organic and so is Del, right? If it controls contaminants it might be controlling him, too.”
Caufmann’s eyes flash for an instant. He squares his shoulders. “Yes, that’s possible.”
“Either way I’m not leaving you here, so what are we doing?”
Sabre interjects. “If Croft has lost it and commandeered a Desolator satellite, going airborne again is suicide. But carrying a family, how can we travel on foot?” he nods towards Wayne, his wife and the two children who huddle together in the ship, mourning but alive.
Drej is wincing with a hand pressing against the side of his head. “There’s a train under Whitechapel being used for supplies to the fortified area. It was originally constructed to aid the underground resistance when the GA briefly occupied the city during the war.”
Caufmann looks at Drej mystified. “How would you know that?”
There’s a madness in Drej’s eyes but also an unsettling clarity. “The thing I hear in my head calling for help likes to talk.”
Caufmann’s mind races. Perhaps there’s more to this thing under the city; someone or some kind of construct down there calling out, and Drej is attuned enough to hear it for some reason. There were bizarre readings emanating from below the city when he was still in the lab, but I thought that was something caused by Prototype. Instead, Prototype may have been hiding down there not just to be obscured by interference, but also to search for this thing.
“I don’t know what it is that’s talking to you, Arca, but you’re not as insane as I’d thought.”
“It won’t stop talking.”
“Does it know what happened to Del?”
Drej nods. “I don’t understand the information it’s producing. It just says that Del is very small.”
“I need any information it has immediately.”
Drej nods, his eyes beginning to flicker. Caufmann’s gauntlet beeps as a wealth of knowledge floods his system. Drej’s eyes return to normal but he’s frowning as if straining to hear a distant voice.
“It’s now telling me that there’s a reservoir under Blackhaven that can lead us to the Whitechapel underground railway.”
“Arca, the sequence you’ve given me won’t help him, it will kill him.”
Drej ignores him, his face turns puzzled. “What?” he asks aloud. “Who? … A contaminant? …”
After a moment Caufmann taps him on the shoulder. “What is it saying?”
Drej looks at Caufmann. “It doesn’t make sense. It says that a contaminant shot an organic conduit that was communing with a larger contaminant group. During his escape, he influenced contaminants to attack each other.”
This information has Caufmann engrossed. “Who did this? What contaminant?”
“An elderly man called Sindaris Tessol.”
“Where is he now?”
“This all happened just now. Tessol has just left this entity’s scanner range.”
Rennin looks to Caufmann. “What are we doing, William?”
Caufmann glances to Rennin, then to Dead Star. “Get the restraints from the gunship’s POW case.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
In Whitechapel, Commander Croft is wandering around in the control room lost in thought. Desolator 1 cut a trench several kilometres long and the Defence Force has gotten wind of it. He’s just finished his conversation with his superior outside the city wall, which has done nothing to abate the ever maddening look in his eye.