more battle. I couldn’t hear it, but I didn’t need to. I felt it in myself, and saw it reflected in the determined faces of those around me. Genetechnic’s entire plan revolved around the rapid distribution of the seek-and-destroy nanites throughout the ship and Life Support was the only way to make that happen. We had no way of knowing if Bliss, imbued with an intelligence that at least equaled our own, had figured out the plan. We had no way of knowing what awaited us on the other side of the door.
Korben’s voice came over the channel. “We have a solid connection with the shuttle. All personnel, instruct your agents to execute an emergency backup.” That surprised me. Backup procedures were normally only possible within a certain range of a registered facility. Of course, Genetechnic had already demonstrated an amazing faculty in manipulating the archive system. Did they really have the capability to execute a backup out here, in deep space? “Langston, Chan, you too. As of this moment, no one could argue that you haven’t fulfilled the terms of your contract.” Chan and I exchanged glances. The assassin was many things, but, though it pained me to say it, he seemed to have a sense of fairness, perhaps even honor.
Sarah?
Backup procedures have been initiated. The process is non-standard and appears to be gathering only a subset of available data. The Genetechnic protocols are using an incremental approach rather than a full backup. Estimate completion in just under sixty seconds.
We all waited in tense silence as our agents sent a record of us… all that we were… back to the shuttle. As Sarah had noted, it wasn’t a full download—that would have been impossible given the time constraints. But even if it was just enough to fill in the gaps since our last backup, the ramifications were staggering.
The megacorps may well have been soulless entities, but it seemed there were benefits to dealing with the devil.
“Ms. Chan,” Korben said once everyone had indicated their backup process was complete, “if you would be so kind.”
Shay nodded and her eyes took on that faraway look that meant she was dropping into VR, no doubt to better assess the electronic defenses of the door before her. She was gone for only a moment before her eyes refocused. “Done,” was all she said.
Korben nodded and reached out for the pad. He tapped it and the door slid soundlessly open.
The security personnel were moving as soon as the opening was wide enough for one to squeeze through. They flowed into the room, the assassin, Shay, and I following in their wake. I surveyed the chamber as we entered, eyes glancing around, looking for threats. Each of the security personnel had their assigned sectors. Shay and I were loose ends—not integrated enough into their team to be part of their entry plan. But damned if I was going to trust that nothing would escape their notice, so I assigned myself the role of second pair of eyes and strategic reserve all wrapped into one.
The space was larger than those unfamiliar with the mechanics of space flight might have thought necessary, even on such a large vessel. That was due, in part, to the need for every last scrap of equipment to be exposed and readily accessible. When something went wrong in Life Support, you sure as shit did not want to spend your time slithering through access tunnels or working in cramped spaces. Miniaturization was great for non-essential systems, but not for life support. The kind of repairs that needed to be effected needed to be effected right now and the design of the equipment reflected that.
Everywhere I looked, I saw machinery. Massive air exchangers whose main purpose was to filter out the excess CO2 marched in stately rows down the center of the warehouse-like compartment. Along either side, banks of reserve O2 and nitrogen tanks stood, ready to take on the load if the main life-support systems failed. Massive spherical vats, used for holding, cleaning, and processing the closed water system of the ship, were just visible at the far end of the room, rising above the other machinery like small mountains. There were other, more esoteric bits of equipment as well, all coming together to form the web of systems that spelled the difference between a luxury cruiser and a drifting graveyard.
Most of the systems were currently offline.
The place had a stillness about it that, while unsettling to some, I found calming. More