“And if this wasn’t the Kijol, then who? A splinter group we haven’t heard about because the military is keeping their existence a secret?”

  “I don’t have the answers, Corporal.”

  Maxwell was worried, though he didn’t say as much. A splinter group with the right expertise could likely have removed the comms unit without triggering its purge routine. Maybe those people had a way to make the hardware intercept other comms, or perhaps they had other uses for it. Certainly, Maxwell was keen to recover the unit, though he suspected it was long gone.

  “And who would be sick enough to cut all those people’s throats?” asked Fine, her voice distant like she wasn’t really expecting an answer.

  “You’re not asking the right question, Corporal,” said Maxwell. “The real question is how the hell did they manage it? It’s a messy way to kill and who’s going to let it happen without putting up a fight?”

  “If I find them…”

  “Let’s not make promises yet.”

  Maxwell came to the corner of the largest prefab and paused to check what lay east. He saw birds in the sky and the jungle sounds were suddenly more noticeable than before, but within the visible area of the compound, everything was still.

  A few minutes later, the soldiers arrived at the first of the mid-sized structures. This one was identical to the prefab which had housed the missing comms unit, and the lights on its access panels were green.

  The same as earlier, Maxwell ordered the soldiers to divide into squads. Once that was done, they entered the building and conducted the search. Forty-five minutes later, they were finished. The prefab had contained what might have been workshops on the lower floor, in which the members of the CES had been tinkering with hardware, most of it civilian, but some of it looking more advanced.

  Maxwell didn’t know what the people here had been making, and he found no printed records. Doubtless the many computers within the building contained the information, but he lacked an account to sign in to any of those.

  Above the workshops were offices and it was these which had taken the most time to search. In the end that search had been fruitless and the soldiers located no more corpses and nothing that would help explain events here on Xaros.

  “We’re heading west,” said Maxwell. “To Unit B-22.”

  When he craned his neck, he could see the roof of the next target on his list and he set off for it, following the gap between two of the accommodation units. Another unit had been placed crossways ahead, so the squads would need to divert around it.

  The walk wasn’t long and soon Maxwell was facing the corner door of the target prefab. According to his HUD, the air temperature was even higher than when he’d first landed the deployment vessel and he guessed the walls and the ground slabs accumulated heat over the course of the day, making afternoons in the compound hotter than midday.

  Stepping closer, Maxwell touched the access panel and the door opened. He beckoned Fleming to follow him inside and then he activated the inner airlock door.

  “More storage,” said Fleming. “This prefab might have the same layout as the place the CES installed their comms unit.”

  “Maybe,” said Maxwell. He watched and listened for a short while. The room beyond was fitted with more of the metal shelves, and they were well stocked. Keeping an off-world venture running in any sort of comfort required supplies, so Maxwell wasn’t surprised that the CES devoted many of their buildings to the storage of spare parts and other components. “All’s quiet,” he finally concluded.

  Entering the room, Maxwell went for the door in the left-hand wall. He opened it, revealing a wide corridor with doors in the right-hand wall and another of the open-plan areas midway along.

  “Corporal Fine, head through the northern door with Squad B,” Maxwell instructed. “Squad A, follow me.”

  He entered the corridor and advanced, his pace quickening. Ignoring the side doors, Maxwell continued all the way to the opening in the right-hand wall. He checked around the corner and saw that the space went all the way to the far side of the building, where another corridor presumably led to other exits.

  “I’ve located the security controller,” said Maxwell.

  The console was fixed to the middle of the opposite wall, and it was easily identifiable amongst the desks and civilian computers. Maxwell headed along an aisle formed by those desks, though he didn’t drop his guard for a moment. This place hadn’t been wrecked like the other one, but he had a sudden sense of danger and he wasn’t sure why.

  “Careful,” he warned.

  Maxwell stopped at the console. It had seats for three personnel and it was powered up. The top panel was covered in switches, buttons and keypads, the functions of which Maxwell was mostly familiar with. In addition, the controller was fitted with nine screens and every one was filled with thousands of tiny, rapidly changing numbers.

  “What the hell?” he said, hoping that what he thought was happening wasn’t in fact happening.

  “What’s the matter, Sergeant?” asked Barkley. He took a closer look at the screen. “Someone’s running an encryption breaker on this console.”

  “That’s what it looks like,” said Maxwell.

  He searched around the console and couldn’t find anything resembling an encryption breaker nearby, which meant the link was remote. “In the absence of a connection to dedicated comms hardware, these units will accept a near-field interface, right?” said Maxwell.

  “I think so,” said Barkley. “Security isn’t my area, Sergeant.”

  “Speak to the Marauder,” said Maxwell. “Someone on the warship will know.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  While Barkley got on with it, Maxwell approached a door in the wall nearby. He made the others aware that he was about to open it, and then touched the access panel. The room beyond was three metres square and in the centre was a waist-high, cube-shaped object, dark in colour and exuding a noticeable chill.

  “I’ve found the compound data array,” said Maxwell.

  He didn’t enter the room and the door closed automatically after a few seconds. By then, Barkley had finished his conversation with one of the officers on the Marauder.

  “Like you thought, these units will accept a near-field link, Sergeant,” said Barkley, giving the security controller a nudge with the toe of his boot.

  “How near-field?” asked Maxwell.

  “One hundred metres, sir.”

  “That means the security breaker is somewhere in this building.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Maxwell got straight on the comms and advised Corporal Fine to look out for anything unusual.

  “Take care, Corporal. It’s possible the breaker was left unguarded, but there’s an equal chance someone’s looking after it.”

  Fine was up for a challenge. “If I find anyone, I’ll not hurt them too bad, Sergeant.”

  “This wasn’t a one-person operation, Corporal,” Maxwell reminded her.

  “I know that, sir. I’ll watch out.”

  During the short conversation, the other members of Squad A had positioned themselves so that they could observe the entrances to the open plan area. It was a big space for five to guard and Maxwell knew he had to resolve the situation in B-22 as quickly as possible. He had no idea if the force which had attacked the compound had left a presence. It was entirely possible they had done so and they might emerge from hiding at any moment.

  The Marauder is near enough to spot any ground movement. We’ll have warning of anything incoming, and a whole damn warship providing air support.

  It should have been a reassurance, but Maxwell couldn’t shake his disquiet.

  “What else did you learn from the Marauder, Private Barkley?”

  “I’ve been speaking to Lieutenant Adler, sir,” said Barkley. “He strongly recommends we don’t touch the hardware – not until we find the encryption breaker. After that, we wait for orders.”

  “Have the Kijol ever broken our security systems?” asked Private Lowe.

  “Not that I know,” said Maxwell. “I doubt anyone would tell us if it had happened.”

  In theory, a single security console on a remote world should not be a golden key to humanity’s front door. The HF security hardware like this console here would have full control over the Xaros compound, but it couldn’t be unplugged and installed elsewhere without extensive reconfiguration.

  The HF comms network was similarly resistant to hostile efforts at subversion. Comms were routed through thousands of different deep space proxy hubs, and only the final proxies held the location of humanity’s populated worlds, with no single proxy knowing the routing information for more than one populated world.

  However, the hardware was still valuable, and if a hostile force gained an understanding of how it was put together, as well as the programmed security protocols, it would help them build a picture of how the HF structured its defences.

  For ten minutes, Maxwell waited with growing impatience while Squad B searched the rest of the building. He was tempted to send Lowe and Valerio to help, but, having located the security console, he didn’t want to leave it and didn’t want to divide the soldiers just to save a few additional minutes. Maxwell felt as if the mission was moving forward and that was when an inexperienced officer might succumb to eagerness. He wasn’t about to fall into that trap.

  After fifteen minutes, Corporal Fine spoke on the comms.

  “Sergeant, we’ve located something. You might want to come check it out.”

  “I don’t want to leave this controller. Tell me what you’ve found, Corporal.”

  “I think it’s the security breaker, sir, but it’s not HF hardware and it doesn’t look much like the Kijol made it either.”

  Maxwell re-evaluated his intention to stay put. “Private Fleming, come with me,” he snapped. “The rest of you, keep an eye on that security console.”

  Having given the order, Maxwell hurried to see what Corporal Fine had found.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What the hell is that?” said Private Fleming.

  Maxwell didn’t say anything for a time. He was in one of the second-storey offices, a place furnished with mundane crap like everywhere else in the compound. The room was large enough that the seven soldiers could have fitted inside without crowding, though Maxwell had ordered four of them into the corridor outside to keep watch.

  In the middle of the desk, was a roughly cube-shaped object with rounded edges. This object measured about nine inches on each side and it appeared to be a patchy mixture of metal and biological matter, the metallic parts being a matte grey and the rest being darkly iridescent in a way that reminded Maxwell of a fly.

  For a time, he tried to make sense of how the object had been put together, but as far as he could tell, the alloys and the flesh were somehow melded.

  “Look at these tubes, sir,” said Fine, pointing but being careful not to touch.

  When Maxwell peered closely, he saw that the flesh was faintly translucent and just beneath the surface was a network of fine tubes that appeared to run throughout the object.

  “Arteries,” he said in disgust. “This thing must be alive.”

  “That’s what I thought, sir,” said Fine. “Maybe Corporal Valerio could plug in his med-box and see what it says.”

  Maxwell wasn’t sure what to do. The object repulsed him and, though he lacked proof, he was sure this was the security breaker.

  “What’s going to come our way if we disturb this thing?” he wondered.

  “If it’s hacking our tech, what choice do we have, sir?” asked Fine.

  “Not much,” said Maxwell. “Lieutenant Barkley, I’ve given you access to the stream from my helmet sensor. Send it up to the Marauder and request advice.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Barkley.

  “Who made this, sir?” asked Fine.

  “I haven’t seen anything like it,” said Maxwell, reluctant to commit to an opinion. “Let’s wait to find out if anyone on the Marauder knows what it is.”

  The response from the warship wasn’t long in coming. “Nobody knows what the hell it is, sir,” said Barkley.

  “What orders?”

  “We’re to take it out of range of the security controller’s near-field interface, sir.”

  “And then?”

  “Continue with the mission,” said Barkley. “Once we’re finished on the surface, we’re to bring the object with us to the Marauder.”

  “What if it’s carrying a disease or something?” asked Maxwell.

  “I didn’t ask, Sergeant.” Barkley swore suddenly. “I think the security breaker is finished. The controller hardware displayed a prompt for input and then a load of other crap rolled up the screen.”

  “Damnit!” said Maxwell. Faced with a snap decision between preserving the alien hardware or preventing it from extracting valuable data from the console, he went for the latter. “Stand back!” he ordered.

  The soldiers retreated and Maxwell shot the security breaker with his gauss rifle, taking care that a deflection would hit the wall rather than his squad. A hole appeared in the facing side of the object and the projectile’s exit brought with it an eruption of flesh. Maxwell shot the breaker twice more in rapid succession, the discharge of his gun producing a muted whine of gauss coils.

  The shots brought the other soldiers into the room and Maxwell raised a hand to indicate everything was under control.

  “Has the data extraction ended?” he asked Barkley on the comms.

  “I think so, sir.”

  Unwilling to take risks, Maxwell stepped forward and thumped the stock of his rifle hard onto the surface of the security breaker. The fleshy part was slightly yielding and he hit it again, causing a piece of metal with a couple of wire-thin tubes attached to slither out from one of the exit holes and land on the floor. In repulsed anger, Maxwell struck the object again and he felt something rupture within it.

  “What’s that security controller doing, Private Barkley?”

  “It’s returned to the prompt for input screen, sir. I should be able to link to its near-field interface with my comms pack now. Then the Marauder should be able to unlock the hardware.”

  “Sounds good,” said Maxwell.

  “You looked like were having fun with that security breaker, Sergeant,” said Corporal Fine. “Want me to dump the pieces in the trash?”

  “I’m sure the HF research labs will be ecstatic when they’re presented with such a wonderfully preserved example of alien hardware, sir,” said Fleming.

  “We’ll just say it got dropped on the floor during the course of the mission,” said Maxwell.

  “Dropped out of a shuttle, you mean?” asked Fleming.

  “Twice,” said Lyles. “And then we accidentally landed on it.”

  “Just for that, you can pick it up, Private Lyles,” said Maxwell. “Put it in your pack and look after it.”

  “What about those diseases you were asking about, Sergeant?”

  “If you have to take your helmet off for any reason, hold your breath.”

  Maxwell waited until Lyles had the security breaker in her pack. It hadn’t been pretty to begin with, and now it was a mess of ragged flesh and broken metal. Maybe someone in the labs would be able to figure out how it worked.

  “Let’s head back to the security controller,” said Maxwell.

  “Who’s going to come looking for that breaker?” asked Vaughan. “And do we want to be around to greet them?”

  “Before we go anywhere else, we’re going to find out what’s stored on that array downstairs,” said Maxwell. “Then maybe we’ll be recalled to the Marauder.”

  “What if we aren’t?” Vaughan pressed.

  “Then we do as we’re ordered,” said Maxwell angrily. “What the hell else were you expecting me to say?”

  “Sorry, Sergeant. It’s going to be nightfall soon.”

  Maxwell relented. “If we’re still here at dark, we’ll hunker down and wait till the morning. If Captain Grisham asks us to keep exploring after dark, I’ll make him understand.”

  He exited the room and retraced his steps to the security controller room below. The soldiers looked relieved at the return of the others.

  “Private Barkley, are you interfaced with this console?” asked Maxwell, striding towards the security controller.

  “No, sir, I was waiting for the order.”

  “Do it now.”

  “Yes, sir…done. The comms pack is linked to the controller.”

  “Request an override code from the Marauder. Then we’ll log in and check what’s on that data array,” said Maxwell.

  It finally felt as if he was making progress and he dropped into one of the seats in front of the console. The input prompt glowed unblinking.

  “The code is sent, Sergeant. You should be able to log on with your standard HF security credentials.”

  Maxwell held the tip of his index finger on the security reader pad and the chip in his suit transmitted his biological data. A line of text appeared, informing him that he was an unrecognized user.

  “It didn’t work.”

  “Maybe the override codes take a few moments to register,” said Barkley.

  Maxwell knew that wasn’t the case and Barkley knew it as well. The alternative – that the codes had failed – was unthinkable, so Maxwell repeated the process of laying his finger on the security pad. Once again, the controller denied his logon request.

  “Speak to the Marauder,” said Maxwell.

  “Yes, sir.”

  This time, Barkley was in conversation for more than a minute, and he paced back and forwards as he talked.

  “There’s a fix, sir, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “Tell me what it is,” said Maxwell.

  “Someone in the CES has obviously been screwing around with the controller hardware,” said Barkley. “How they managed to deny a fleet warship access is a question for later. To unlock this console, the Marauder will need to issue an emergency reset command into the hardware. That’ll prompt the console to issue an independent request for corroboration, in order to be sure the warship isn’t a rogue agent.”