Judas Unchained

“Damnit.” Nigel let out a long breath. “All right, but we keep this very quiet. If and when Tarlo is hooked up to a neural download the data extracted from his brain is to be routed through to the operation we’re putting together here. Columbia can have full access, but we direct the procedure.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Nigel nodded acknowledgment. “You’d better hook up with Wilson. He can brief you on our operation.”

“Wilson’s here?”

“Yes,” Nigel said wryly. “Along with some others you may recognize. But that’s not to be shared with Columbia until we’re convinced he’s acknowledged the Starflyer. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Daniel, organize some transport for the arrest team.”

“I’ll get right onto it. What do you want to do about opening the gateway?”

“The Paris team goes through, and that’s it. If it’s open for more than a minute I’ll want to know why. Who’s on duty over there?”

“Ward Smith. I’ll get over to the gateway control center and liaise with him myself.”

***

There were eight Guardians working on the big engine. The old Ables ND47 sat on the single track that ran through the huge Foster Transport shed, its new ultramarine paintwork gleaming under the bright overhead lights. A cluster of mobile gantries surrounded it, giving the engineeringbots access to the entire superstructure. Under the supervision of the Guardian team they were installing force field generators and medium-caliber weapons in casings that looked like they were integral segments of the bodywork. Forty meters behind the engine, two long enclosed wagons sat on the shiny rails.

Bradley Johansson stood beside the big coupling on the first wagon, looking up at its dusty yellow and maroon shell. A single connector cable dangled from beneath the coupling, its end almost reaching the ground; it was as thick as his torso.

“We’re basically ready to go,” Adam said. “All the equipment and vehicles are loaded. The old brute is so heavily armored even it will have trouble carrying the weight.”

“And if it does get hit?”

Adam grinned, and patted the cool metal chassis of the front wagon. “The armored cars make the final dash through to Half Way. I’ve got it all covered, Bradley, stop worrying. We will make it.”

“All of us?” Bradley asked quietly. He glanced at the Guardians swarming like acrobats over the gantries around the nuclear-powered engine. There wasn’t one of them over thirty-five.

“Most of us,” Adam said.

“I fear the dreaming heavens will be welcoming a lot of friends this coming week.”

“You know, I never did get that part of your philosophy. Why give the Guardians their own religion? That makes it look even more like a cult.”

“I didn’t. I’ve been to the dreaming heavens, Adam. It’s at the far end of the Silfen paths, a place where noble demons fly through an endless sky. I was cured there.”

Adam gave him a judgmental look.

Bradley’s e-butler told him Senator Burnelli was calling.

“I’ve been in a meeting,” she told him.

“Forgive my lack of surprise, Senator, but that’s what politicians do.”

“Not meetings like this one, we don’t. You’ll be happy to hear you’re almost legitimate now. We want to bring you in, Bradley, you and the Guardians.”

Bradley opened the call to Adam as Justine explained what had been decided at Nigel Sheldon’s mansion.

“The Starflyer is the same family as the Primes,” Bradley said. “Well, in all the dreaming heavens, I never knew that. It does make sense, though. I remember its interest in the Dyson Pair right from the start.”

“Do you know where the Starflyer is?” she asked.

“No, but like you, we believe it will try and get through to Boongate.”

“It can’t. However, we are going to let it think it can. If its train approaches the gateway, our squad will bag it.”

“A honey trap. Good idea.”

“You’re at the Narrabri station already, aren’t you?”

“Now, Senator, you know that’s not a question I’ll answer for you.”

“But we want to join forces. You must have established procedures for this very moment.”

“We are certainly prepared for most eventualities.”

“Well then, we stand a much better chance if we combine our operations.”

“Forgive me, but after being hunted like a diseased animal for a hundred and thirty years, it is understandably hard for me to welcome the hounds into my house.”

“You have my word this is an honest offer; Nigel Sheldon’s word, too. I can put you in contact. You can hear it from him personally.”

“I appreciate that. However, there is one way you can settle the problem of trust.”

“Yes?”

“Kazimir McFoster was carrying some data for us when he was murdered at LA Galactic. We believe you may have it.”

“I do, yes.”

“Excellent. If Paula Myo delivers it to me in person, then I will truly know the Guardians have come in from the cold.”

“How about if I deliver it? Surely that would prove our goodwill?”

“Please understand, if it is the Investigator, I can be absolutely certain. I believe in her honesty. It is the one true constant in a very uncertain universe.”

“But you don’t trust me?”