"Flight Lima Papa four-one-niner, we have you on scope. Descend flight level one, maintain course and speed."
"Affirmative, tower." Marius made sure he was not broadcasting down to the ground, then continued to speak. "They have us locked up solid with radar. Enough that I think even with our countermeasures active, they would still track us. The power output is crazy!"
"Isn't that normal for an airport?" Hunter queried.
"No. Not like this." Marius watched as they crossed the outer marker, twenty-five kilometres from the airport and settled in on final approach.
"Lima Papa, you're on slope. Approach runway oh-three, wind is five knots at zero nine zero. Commencing ILS handshake. I see this is your first time here, runway is Class three, three thousand metres long. Proceed to the half-way mark and look for taxi-way Whisky, and a follow-me will lead you to your berth."
"Affirmative, tower, thank you." He relaxed slightly as the screen lit up with augmented reality icons as the ILS system provided a mass of data to his auto-nav, constantly updating faint arrows showing the wind vector blowing across his path, his position on the glide slope and the ideal speed and height variables for a perfect landing. He didn't relinquish control, but he did enjoy the smooth and easy landing that was on offer. The wheels kissed the tarmac gently enough that those in the back didn't realise they'd touched down until they felt him reduce power and engage the brakes to slow them.
Rolling gently down the middle of the fifty-metre wide strip of concrete, he kept a careful eye out on the side of the runway, watching for the blue arcs of light that detailed the taxi routes that led off the main airstrip. When he saw the squat sign with a bright yellow background, showing a large letter 'W' he gently turned off, applying just a touch of power to keep them rolling nicely. A small car was waiting beyond, and as they turned in towards it, rotating amber lights illuminated and it pulled away, leading them towards a large hanger complex that blotted out the starlight and view of the city beyond. White overhead lamps shone down on a huge apron littered with craft, and several of the hangers were open, revealing a bustle of activity on even more aircraft.
"Well, we are in the right place, it seems."
"Whatcha mean?" Hunter pulled up the controls for the optical sensors and started to look over at the mass of aircraft. To his right, Marius made sure his sensors were locked down to passive only – he didn't want to go poking around here, given what he was looking at.
"There's a full wing of Ares GCR-22S attack choppers there. Not as fast as us, but well-armed and armoured. Each can carry half a dozen air to air missiles, any one of which would likely ruin our day. Very agile, and with a massive air-search radar system, they are good hunter-killers, with a good pop-up capability."
"Ok, so they're bad news…"
"That is not all. The next row back are Ares Penetrator 15 interceptor jets. You know the dog fight we saw back in Cal-Free? That was one of these, doing the low-level evasion. Those are also very bad news."
"Faster than the choppers, I take it. Can they catch us?"
"Catch us Hunter? No. They obliterate us. They probably have a top speed four times greater than ours, armour heavy enough to make our heavy machine guns ineffective and carry thirty-millimetre autocannons and a wide range of missiles."
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh. And there is a full squadron there. And beyond those, are a row of Ares Dragons."
"They're the big troop choppers right, sort of like the old MI-6?"
"Indeed." A brief flash of anger crossed the pilot's face as he was reminded of the loss of his craft. "Not really combat craft, but each can carry half a company of troops to take and hold ground. Though I cannot imagine much call for that here."
They trundled onwards towards the hanger, coming into view of the last row of aircraft waiting outside the hangers, getting a better view as they passed the bulk of the twin-rotor Dragons.
"Ahh – Ares Firebirds. They are…"
"I know what those buggers are. Flying tanks!"
"Not quite, but close. Thunderbirds. Massive jet turbines on them – they can go at least double our speed, but they are limited in altitude, just like us. Even more heavily armed and armoured than the fighters though, they have missiles and chainguns or autocannons, maybe even a railgun." The boxy and ugly craft radiated a certain menace, their stubby canards reflecting light from the overhead poles. Brute force vehicles, they relied on sheer power and thrust rather than aerodynamic lifting surfaces.
"What's that over behind them?" Hunter swung the optics round a little more and zoomed in, revealing two large planes, each with four massive turbofan engines slung under the wings. "They don't look military."
"No – they are commercial. I believe they are FX400 transports." Marius closed his eyes for a moment, seeing a specification in his mind, committed to memory long ago. "They have a huge cargo capacity – over four hundred tons. They used to be popular for passenger long haul flights, but most of that traffic has been taken by the semi-ballistics now."
"Four hundred tons? That's…a fuckton." Hunter tried to imagine how much cargo you could fit into that kind of capacity, and mostly came back to the image of several tanks and accompanying light strike vehicles, along with maybe a helicopter or two…
Finally, as they neared the hanger, they saw a couple of executive jets positioned under the brilliant lights, a few Ares TR-55Cs and at least one of the E variants favoured by executives and upper management. It didn't have the same stretched and enhanced profile as the one they'd seen landing in Sioux lands just before they'd fought the horror, but the genesis of the design was clearly visible.
"So, this isn't somewhere to piss off the locals then."
"No, it most certainly is not, Hunter. I do not know if the whole airport is owned by Ares, but I would say it is clearly in charge of this part. Even the vehicle we are following is an Ares brand. I would guess that they have major interests in the city, and that at least some of the presence here is for guarding that."
"Makes sense I suppose, if you're going to have a top secret black clinic, then it makes sense to have a rapid response force for when people like us try to break into it…"
The follow-me vehicle led them to the last of the hangers in the row, closest to a squat office building. As they approached the huge doors started to slide open, revealing the pristine environment inside. The lighting was even more intense here, every part of the hanger illuminated in a crisp white light, reflecting off a floor that looked to have been newly laid that sparkled and glimmered. They gently rolled inside, towards a worker who beckoned them forwards with glowing signs, guiding them to a halt with crossed arms when they were fully inside. Marius cut the power to the engines and ran through his shutdown procedure, making sure to follow the full checklist and leave everything in the optimum condition – he didn't know how long he was going to be away for, and didn't want anything to happen to his vehicle.
Off to the side of the warehouse, a pair of guards appeared. It was hard to say if they were soldiers or corporate security – not that there was much difference where the Megacorps were concerned though. Both wore fairly heavy-looking armour over patterned fatigues, which had the distinctly stiff-looking appearance of ballistic fabric, and carried Ares Alpha combat-guns at port arms. They split up and headed towards them, one angling towards the front of the craft, another to the rear, and took up sentry positions.
Distracted by the arrival of the guards, Marius suddenly realised that the worker who had guided them into position had moved towards them, stowing the two lit paddles under one arm, and was now just about to rap on the side hatch of the fuselage. He quickly unfastened his safety harness, calling back to Kai to alert him to their visitor. By the time he was unstrapped, Kai had slid open the door and greeted the man.
"Morning! I'm Kai."
"Good morning, welcome to Eindhoven. I've been informed that you are to be met later this morning by a liaison officer. Until that time you are instructed to remain with your craft. However, you are free to request refuelling from our stores if required."
"Ahh, yes please, then – we have used most of our fuel getting here." Kai grinned at the man, trying to get him to relax, but he remained somewhat detached – because of the guards, or just due to his procedures, Kai couldn't say. Regardless, he didn't seem to want to chat much. "I'd really like it if we could get some food though, and maybe use your toilets? It's been a long flight."
"There are toilets over there, by the edge of the hanger that you're welcome to use. I'll see if I can get some food bought over." The man braced somewhat, as if he was in the military and making a report, then turned smartly and headed off away from them, making a few notes on his tablet as he marched away.
Most of the team cycled through the toilet at the side of the hanger, as much to get out and stretch their legs as for any real need – though it was nice to be able to sit down in privacy and not feel hemmed in by the cramped confines of the tilt-wing. It was remarkable how nice it felt to have a toilet bolted down to the floor and with a proper seat and room to move was, after having to use a funnel on a pipe while pressed into an uncomfortably small and oddly shaped alcove at the front of the troop bay for a while. By the time the last of them had relieved themselves, a fuel bowser had been towed into position and was filling their tanks, while Hunter moved the barrels down the ramp and got ready to refill those as well. Shortly afterwards, the landing officer returned with a tray, carrying several cartons of soy-fries and what looked to be hot-dogs in buns. The food looked unappetising, and proved to be only lukewarm and slightly soggy, and certainly put paid to any concept that the cuisine was going to be good quality. Once the refuelling was complete and Kai had paid, he pulled out his phone and waved it in front of the man's face.
"Can we make calls while we're here? Is that ok?" The landing officer looked confused for a moment, then checked on his pad, scrolling through a few pages before looking back at Kai.
"I have no instructions on that issue. I would advise you not to discuss your location or the facilities that you are in, but otherwise feel free to communicate." He made a note on his tablet again, nodded politely to Kai and then marched away again, leaving them alone with the smell of soggy chips slowly permeating the troop bay from the untouched food, while the guards maintained their vigil. After a few minutes, Hunter climbed out of the aircraft and approached one of the guards, who watched him warily, his hands tightening slightly on the grip of his rifle. Hunter moved carefully, making sure his hands remained visible, and gave a lop-sided smile.
"Hoi chummer. Just wanted to check – we can come out and go for a run, yes? Just round the hanger, not outside or anything. Been cooped up in there most of the day. You know how it is…" There might have been a flicker of empathy from the guard, an indication of shared understanding, one grunt to another, but it didn't stop him from shaking his head.
"That is not permitted. Please remain in your aircraft." Hunter watched for a moment to see if there was anything else to be said, but then shrugged his massive shoulders and turned to climb back aboard, sliding the door shut behind him.
Aswon stirred in his seat as his pocket buzzed, pulling out his commlink and then examining the alert.
"Hunter – forwarding on a message to you, it's that dossier we wanted, from Germaine. Can you push it up on the monitors for everyone?" He sent the file on, then settled back into his seat and watched as the displays around them lit up, showing the first of the files received. A picture appeared, a sail boat heading directly towards the viewer, canvas sails billowing in the wind while the boat cut through the water. The boat and canvas were mostly shades of brown, while the sky was a medley of blues. It didn't seem to be a remarkable image at first, but as they studied it, it seemed to give off a sense of calmness.
"This is the Jewel of Muscat, an oil painting on canvas, sized at one point four by two metres. Painted back in 2011, by Anwar Sonya. Apparently it was on display in the Gallery Sarah, in Old Muscat, Oman." The image of the boat disappeared, showing a map of part of Muscat, with the gallery highlighted amidst a shopping area, either co-located with or part of the "Bait Al Zubair" museum. "The Gallery Sarah showcases both local and international talent," the image changed to show the gallery from a public area, displaying a bright white space lit with neon, minimalist white stools set up around the floor space in front of widely separated works of art, "and they have bi-monthly exhibitions, displays and workshops."
"According to press reports from Oman news agencies, there was a major fire that destroyed the art gallery and a warehouse," the image changed again showing a street scene, bright orange flames engulfing a building further down the block, the camera showing the silhouette of fire platforms and engines contrasting starkly with the bright conflagration, "with losses estimated at 100%. The insurance company who covers the gallery has launched a major investigation, with a source close to the company leaking that while the cause of the fire was a faulty lighting rig, apparently some structural panels had been removed, creating a chimney through the building that allowed for rapid spread of the fire, allowing it to burn out of control and beyond the initial fire zone, away from sprinklers and other fire suppression systems." The screen blinked again, this time showing a few people walking through an interior shot of a devastated building, their white forensic suits standing out against the charred and blackened mess inside.
"Looks like you were right on that call about the fire then, Hunter, when we checked the other day," Aswon noted. The screen flickered again, this time displaying a low quality camera shot of a human male, one side of the head shaved, leading up to a shock of bright blue hair that was combed over to half cover the other side of the face. The eyes were a pale blue, over the entire surface, no pupils or iris visible in the cyber-replacements. They were slender, wearing a tightly fitting top and slim fit combat trousers, with inserted kneepads sticking out of the sewn-in envelopes. A couple of straps hung off the belt on their right hip – from the placement it looked like a drop holster for a heavy pistol normally hung there. On the side of the head a number of jackports were visible, and the edge of a large rigger jack was just showing at the back of the neck, looking very similar to the one that Marius sported.
"This is 'Dice', the team driver and rigger. They're the contact that Germaine had with the team. During the meet, they had two Condor drones up running top cover with Artemis IV sensor pods apparently. Not sure how Germaine knew that, but whatever. Oh – note here says that they looked like they had the bearing of someone who served in the military once, according to Henry. That's the chauffer and bodyguard guy, I think. Germaine says that they're a ground-based team, driving some kind of large vehicle with moderate cargo space available, armoured and modified for carrying meta-human passengers. The team consists of at least five members – Dice the rigger, two street sams, a physical adept and a mage. Also says that at least one of the team was referred to as her or she, during the meet. Since the job went south, every known contact for Dice has dried up, indicating that it's a deliberate decision to drop off grid."
The screen changed again, this time displaying a map of the middle-east, centred on Muscat, Oman. A large circle was drawn around the centre point, touching on the coast of Eritrea to the west, cutting through Jeddah in Saudi Arabia and then arcing up past Baghdad to the southern end of the Trans-Caucus League, then diving over the sea, north of Ashgabat and swinging down past Kabul, Lahore and New Delhi, taking in the western reaches of India and crossing back into the Arabian sea a fair way south of Mumbai.
"This is a circle with a radius of two and a half thousand kilometres, based on Muscat. Apparently during job negotiations, the team said they would need fuel expenses to cover a five-kay trip, asking for twenty grand. That means whatever they're driving is getting about two klicks to the litre, assuming they're being honest."
"Means it's definitely up in the large transport range then – something bigger than a Bulldog for sure." Aswon noted. "Maybe even something as big as Rocket's truck."
"Germaine figured that it might not be certain, but assuming they were charging for fuel to get to the job, then to Azerbaijan to drop off – then they came from somewhere inside the circle, which at least gives us some starting locations to search from." There were various snorts as the team examined the massive amount of land contained in the search area. "The team apparently made it to Muscat without too much notice, as there's no APBs or other notes out with an alert on them, and it looks like they destroyed the gallery to cover the theft. The gallery is covered by Oman Insurance PTY, and they're the leading investigators in the incident. They have all the local CCTV footage and surveillance info from the police and other residents, and it's rumoured they have some kind of lead or forensic evidence from the crime scene they're working on – there's an office with line of sight to the gallery that's been sealed off and a team has been seen working in there. I agree with Germaine – they probably set up an observation post in there to monitor for a few days before doing the break-in, and probably left something behind. The fire happened on the fifth – so that's four days ago now."
"Well, there's several potential leads to follow up on there then." Aswon said brightly. "Shall we start working through them?" To his surprise, the team shook their heads or responded with grumbles and polite declines. It seemed that mostly they wanted to go to sleep for a few hours, especially Marius who was looking increasingly tense now the hour approached where he'd put his body – and life – in the hands of some unknown surgical team. "Anyone heard of Dice? No?"
"Another time, Aswon. We've got plenty of travel time to discuss this in, while we're heading to Poland and hunting bears and stuff." Kai smiled at him, "Everyone's had a long day, and we all need more sleep than you…" Aswon went to speak, but recognised the futility of further discussion, and instead just volunteered to take first watch, while everyone else got their head down.
Other than the pacing of the guards, nothing moved in the hanger until shortly before eight in the morning. As the team assembled, Marius grabbed a small bag, loading it with a change of underwear and some hygiene products, passing on the offer of breakfast and instead just grabbing a small cup of coffee.
"Marius – I'm sure everything is going to be fine. But just on the off-chance that you need to alert us – when you're back, if you say 'Greetings Pineapples', we'll know that you're not acting on your own wishes or control, or that you're under some form of coercion. We'll do whatever we can to sort that out." Kai's normal smile was absent, and he stared intently at Marius, their eyes locking up for several seconds. Marius nodded, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"And if we can't do that… well, we'll see how many of the bastards we can take down with us." Hunter added with a grin, tapping his assault rifle on the stock. "Those planes and choppers might be great in the air, but I reckon a grenade in the exhaust will mess 'em right up."
"Heads up – we have a suit inbound," Shimazu warned them, watching through the prism. "Calm and collected, heading straight over. Moderate cyberware, a lot in his head, and his eyes and ears are complete replacements. The team slid open the door and climbed down, clustering around Kai and Marius as the man approached.
"Good morning." He spoke excellent English with just a trace of accent. "My name is Mr Van Dott. Is your team member ready for transport to the hospital?"
"He is. My name's Kai, and this is Marius. So – how many of us can go with him for the surgery?"
"Regrettably none. The facility is top-secret, and only the patient may travel there."
"Oh – so I guess we can watch and monitor via remote link?"
"Again, regrettably not. It would be too easy to trace the signal."
"Ok, so how long will it take?"
"I do not know – that very much depends on how the surgery goes. But, rest assured though that we will take the best possible care of him. Now then, if you'll come with me?" Van Dott gestured with his hand and started to lead Marius towards the door, opening the small passenger entrance set into one of the large hanger doors and revealing a waiting ambulance on the far side, back doors open and stairs angled downwards.
"Anything you want us to say or tell Nadia. If…something happens?" Kai's voice was almost a whisper.
"Nein. But I expect you to look after her and take care of things in a satisfactory manner." Marius started to walk, quickly striding across the hanger and past the impatient Van Dott, climbing up into the back of the ambulance and sitting on the bed there. The two medics busied themselves with making the transport ready, laying out some supplies and greeting him, getting him settled comfortably in place. Aswon dropped into astral, and spotted the ward shimmering in place over the doorway. The brightness and the chaotic pattern made it way more difficult to get a read on them, but he concentrated as hard as he could – but detected no signs of hostility or subterfuge, no preparations for violence or other Machiavellian plots bubbling under the surface of their thoughts.
The techs retracted the stairs and closed the door, while Van Dott closed the outer door and headed back over to the rest of the team.
"Now then, he will be some time in transit, and as I said the time for the surgery is somewhat uncertain. We have arranged for you to wait in the officers' mess for the duration. If you will grab any personal effects you wish to take with you, and follow me? I'd ask that you not bring anything heavier than a sidearm, if you wish to remain armed."
Outside, the ambulance pulled away, one of the technicians still in the back while the other drove. The one in the back started to take a quick medical history as he started attaching bio-monitors and sensors to Marius. Marius was distracted somewhat as he suddenly lost all communication with the rest of the team and his rigger interface, as the white -noise generator and signal jammers mounted in the ambulance kicked in, blocking him from anything external.
"Sir, you might find it more comfortable to lie down on the stretcher. I'll just take some readings, and then we'll be administering a sedative to get you ready for the main anaesthetic." Marius watched him closely, looking for signs of nervousness or alarm, but saw only a professional demeanour and well-practiced actions – nothing that triggered his mind to any possible betrayal. He lay down, easing off his top and allowing the medic to place the sensors over his heart and across his chest, watching as his pulse, respiration, body temperature and other readings started to appear on the monitor built into the wall. Realising he couldn't do much now, he instead concentrated on the route they were taking. The ambulance had no windows in the rear, so there was no way to track his journey other than by listening to the sounds of the road and feeling the sway of the vehicle, and doing his best to keep a dead-reckoning track. "Now sir, you'll just feel a sharp scratch on the back of your hand…" The cannula slid in with a smooth motion, and then there was a feeling of ice-water rushing up his arm as the drugs entered his system. Eyelids suddenly acquired a heaviness that was irresistible, and they both drooped, despite his best efforts to remain awake.
Respiration and blood pressure both steadied on the monitor, as Marius slipped into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile, Van Dott led the team out of the hanger and into the adjacent building, taking the stairs to the third floor and using a swipe card to access a large room that faced out across the airport. There was a small dining area to one side, a lounge with several couches that appeared to either recline or fold out into beds, a huge trideo unit mounted on one wall, and some form of gaming system tucked underneath.
"This is the officers' lounge. Please make yourselves at home here, whilst we are waiting for the patient to return. Food and drink is freely available, and you're welcome to watch a film or use the matrix access."
"Can I go for a run out on the taxiway or somewhere?" Hunter asked.
"I'm afraid not. I must ask that you all remain here for the duration."
"Fine, whatever." Hunter let a bit of exasperation edge into his voice, but Van Dott either didn't pick up on it, or just didn't care. Once he saw that nobody else had anything to say, he headed to the door and swiped at the lock, letting himself out and carefully closing the door behind him. "So, I'm gonna fire up the trid and find a news channel. See how much Dutch I can pick up."
"Sounds like a good use of time." Aswon added, following him over to a couple of seats near the trideo, dragging them into a better position to directly face the screen. It only took a moment for Hunter to figure out the remote controls, and soon they were both watching some kind of day-time chat show, listening to the interplay between the two hosts and their guest and starting to work out the language.
Tads fired up the matrix on one of the terminals and had a rough look at the world map, figuring out where Oman was and comparing it mentally to the picture that Hunter had shown them from the dossier. For a moment she considered sleazing out through the inevitable wards that protected the building and flying down there – it was about five and a half thousand kilometres, so it wouldn't take her that long. As she thought it through though, she realised that after four days, any astral trail would be long gone by now, but that didn't mean there wouldn't still be guards at the crime scene, that might chase or try to capture her. Also, she might get spotted as a shaman, and it struck her as somewhere likely to come under a mostly Muslim legal system – and from what she remembered, only hermetic magic was allowed to authorised users. Shamanic worship was haram, and was an offence punishable by death in most jurisdictions.
Kai settled down with the dossier, flipping through it with Shimazu and idly discussion ideas. Kai had a couple of routes that he knew about leading in and out of the area, and suggested that it was entirely probably that the other team had either come in or left by boat, given the wide variety of locations they could reach by crossing the sea surrounding Oman. Despite having slept on it, Kai still didn't recognise the painting or the painter at all – neither were particularly famous or even well known, as far as he could determine. A brief search showed the painting had been hung in the gallery without a frame – so it wasn't a repeat of the previous job involving art that Germaine had employed them for.
After a while Kai pulled out his commlink and fired off a quick message to Germaine, asking her several questions. He was curious to know if she'd used a particular broker for the deal, if she knew about any rivals or other interested parties in getting hold of the painting – on either a personal or professional basis, and last of all if she had any information on the artist of the painting and what they were doing now. He waited a few seconds to see if he was going to get an instant response to anything, but then put his phone away when it remained silent.
Van Dott came back about an hour later to check on them, finding Aswon and Hunter starting to chat to each other in halting and badly accented Dutch, Shimazu practicing a sword kata in a cleared area of the floor and Tads waiting by the doorway.
"Hello. I'd like to go back to our aircraft please."
"You cannot leave to go and exercise – I have already explained that."
"I don't want to exercise – I want to go and sit in our aircraft. I have studying to do."
"And you didn't bring it with you?"
"No. I'm studying something large enough for it not to be portable." She toyed with the idea of explaining how difficult it was to bring a Shamanic Lodge with her, but in the end settled for just giving him a very direct, continuous stare.
"Oh, very well. I'll get someone to escort you back there."
After checking on the rest of the team, he ended up escorting her back down himself, watching as she climbed aboard and sealed herself in, shaking his head as he wandered back to the office he'd commandeered. As a 'special liaison' he ended up dealing with a lot of strange people on behalf of Ares, but this lot were stranger than most he met…
Back in the lounge, Kai called over to Hunter.
"When you have a minute between talking hurdy gurdy, can you do a quick search on that artist?"
"From here?"
"Yeah. I know it's likely to be monitored – but it's just a check on a painter. Want some general information, nothing too specific."
Hunter nodded and grabbed his deck, and quickly latched into the matrix jackpoint in the wall, fighting his way through the Ares Guest Zone and a whole wall of pop-up ads and offers, then started to search. It didn't take him long to dig up some basic information and report back.
"It was painted back in 2011, so pre-awakening. Really old. From the blurb I've seen on a bunch of hosts it's regarded as a bit of a breakthrough piece, lots of waffle about transformative and hidden meaning and stuff like that. Someone even said it was a quantum leap ahead of their earlier work. But all the stuff I've found said it was their finest and most emotive piece, by far. Still not big league stuff – but interesting because they suddenly got so much better than their earlier pieces. Beyond that it was just art critics waving their cocks at each other and using lots of big words that mean very little…"
Time trickled by – Kai pouring over maps and looking at the various smuggler routes he knew, wondering which way the other team might have used to escape from Oman, while Shimazu repeated his sword drill over and over again – easing closer to perfection with every run through. Hunter and Aswon were now sat in their chairs watching the news, and babbling away to each other in Dutch, their accents still bad but their vocabulary broadening rapidly as practiced. No doubt it would have made a great premise for an academic paper – the comparison between learning via a magical talent for absorbing languages at a basic level and the bio-enhanced brain of Hunter optimised for mnemonic learning. As it was, Aswon had picked things up quicker initially, but Hunter was rapidly overtaking him now as he'd assimilated the kernel of the language and was expanding on that knowledge.
They were just eating lunch, having reheated some surprisingly good packet meals from the small but well stocked kitchen when Van Dott opened the door and leant through.
"I've just had word that the surgery is complete. I'm a little surprised at how quickly that happened, but they assure me that everything is fine, and the operation went incredibly well. He'll be on his way back here soon, so we'll probably be ready to escort you back to your aircraft in around thirty minutes." He ducked back out of the room and closed the door before anyone could ask questions, leaving the team to start chatting amongst themselves with precious little information. Sure enough, he returned at 13:30, and they gathered their gear and walked back down the stairs to the adjacent hanger, stowing their equipment and letting Tads know Marius was on the way back – and staring at the mass of candles, beads, wax and coloured thread that was strewn all over the floor, where the shaman had taken advantage of the space and time without anyone to trip over her research to spread out a little.
The door opened a few minutes later, with what appeared to be the same ambulance as before parked just outside. Marius was helped down the steps carefully by the two techs, and supported as he stumbled inside – looking slightly drunk and very weary. Several of the team dropped straight into the astral to check up on him, spotting the flickering aura and weird pulses of life as he body tried to shrug off the remaining drugs in his system, as well as cope with the changes wrought upon it. They could spot the weird lingering trace of a healing spell as well, though the signature was far too weak to be identified – so whatever had happened, it looked like he had been patched up pretty well.
"God, what have they done to his face? He looks like a plastic doll!" Hunter said bluntly. The others focussed on their physical senses, sending scowls at Hunter for his lack of diplomacy – but they had to admit he had a point. Their pilot's skin had a waxy and artificial sheen to it, and looked to have been augmented or possibly even replaced entirely with some kind of enhanced replacement.
"Well, here he comes. Excellent. I'm sure you'll want some time to decompress and ask questions and so forth." Mr Van Dott rubbed his hands together as if he was the evil overlord in some school play. "So, how about we give you thirty minutes to relax and settle things down, and then I'll arrange with the tower to get you clearance?"
"What? You want him flying in thirty minutes?" Aswon pointed at Marius, but directed a look of incredulity at Van Dott. "He's our pilot!"
"Oh. I'd assumed you had a second pilot for your aircraft. That seems like bad planning. So none of you can fly?"
"Well, technically I suppose Hunter can…" Kai added.
"So, that's settled then. I'll call again in thirty minutes. Until next time." Van Dott beamed an entirely fake smile at them and then once more turned on his heel and swiftly marched off, trying not to give them time to respond.
"What about post-operative care? Or instructions on how to deal with any issues?" Tads called out, her voice full of frustrated anger.
"Oh, you should get a message soon with all of that information!" Van Dott called back, waving at them as he continued to head for the door. Without pausing, he moved through and closed it behind him, cutting off any further questions.
They clustered around Marius, taking over supporting him from the two paramedics, who happily passed him over and then left, following Van Dott. The plastic skin was present over all of his body, forming a thick protective layer – but looking very artificial. They were unsure if it was just a dermal sheath or performed some other function, but it appeared to be a protective membrane that would prevent some attacks from harming him. Studded through the new dermal plating were a number of datajacks, one each in each arm, in the middle of his tricep, along with another in each leg on the backs, just above the knees. One was positioned at the base of the spine, and there was a new rigger interface at the base of the skull.
Once he was back aboard and sat in a chair, Kai and Shimazu got out their medical scanners and gave him a thorough examination. The datajacks all seemed to be linked via his central nervous system, and there were signs of a new router installed next to his rigger jacks. Other than his new dermal plating, that seemed to be the limit of the upgrades – at least until Hunter shoved his way in, peering at one of the datajacks.
"That ain't right. That's not a proper jack port. Looks all funny."
"What do you mean?"
"It's wider than normal, deeper too. It's got…oh, I see. It's got an extra set of pins. On each side… weird. Ok, for how deep they are, if you stick a standard cable in there, it's just gonna connect to the normal pins, and work like a normal datajack. But if you put a specially-designed cable in, it's gonna connect to all three sets, and you'll get – well, I guess you'll get triple the bandwidth. Provided that this is duplicated on the back end as well. And I can't see 'em putting stuff in that won't work."
"So that's something new?"
"Ain't never seen anything like it before, that's for sure. Maybe it's a new standard. Lemme check."
"Does that mean that Marius can control more than one thing at once? Or lots more things?" Tads asked, studying the datajacks with a certain amount of horror.
"I have no idea. That would be a fundamental shift in the way that the rigger interface works, if so." Marius answered, studying the jack himself as best he could, given the limited angle of vision he had to it. He glanced over at Hunter who was already jacked into the matrix, performing a search on the new hardware.
Kai's phone dinged, then dinged again as he received a pair of messages. Glancing over at them, he paged down through them, then summarised the content to Marius.
"Right, got some post-operation care stuff here. First one is to cover the next twenty-four hours, says bruising is normal, tiredness, some discomfort, skin may be irritated, especially around the groin and armpit or other high flex areas. Rest as much as you can, and eat well – lots of fruit, veg and real meat. Pfft." He glanced over at Tads and got a nod from her. "Well, at least we can do that bit ok. Then it gets weird – it says after the twenty-four hour period, you have to exercise vigorously and do as much as you can." He paged back and forth, checking the text carefully. "Not a misprint, or a missing word – it's repeated in a different way later on. Yeah, you have to go nuts with your exercise and doing stuff, and using the interface. Lots of suggested activities, and several times it says to stay hydrated, and eat as well as possible."
"Ok, I think I have an answer – though it has a bunch more questions with it. Those are new Ares Datajack 2.0 interfaces. They're just coming out now, like brand new this month. Lots more bandwidth, and Ares is pushing them real hard to make them the new interface of choice with a shit load of stuff. Enough that the design is available, royalty-free to hardware manufacturers."
"Is that a good thing?" Tads asked.
"It means they're letting anyone design products with the new interface, and they don't have to pay Ares for the rights to use it. That's potentially billions of Nuyen in lost royalties – and corporations do like money, so that's a big thing. Huge."
"So why are they doing that?" Confusion was evident in her voice as once again the corporate world refused to follow the rules, just as she thought she had a handle on them.
"Loss-leader, I would imagine. Datajacks work because Fuchi laid down the standard, and they got there first – so everything works with it. People have tried their own interfaces, but nobody wants to be locked in to using only certain hardware or cables. So they tend to fail – but this might work. Because you can still use your old kit, and old cables and things – and if enough people jump onboard, then soon everyone will be using it. And once it hits critical mass, they could start charging for it, and everyone will have to pay them a shit load of cash."
"That doesn't sound like it makes much sense – but ok."
"It wouldn't for most companies – you have to have immense financial backing to make something like that work. But Ares is one of the ten biggest companies in the world, so yeah… they can do that."
Their conversation was interrupted as the massive hanger doors started to slide open, and a worker walked in, illuminated batons ready to 'guide' them out. He stopped dead when he saw them, propellors still stationary, and reached for his radio. After a quick conversation, he started to move towards them again, heading for one of the side doors.
"Is there a problem? I just couldn't help but notice that your engines aren't started…"
"We're just sorting out who's going to pilot. Give us a minute, we need to finish drawing straws." Kai smiled at the man, restraining his glee at the look of abject horror on his face as he contemplated drawing lots to see who got to fly, then slid the door shut. "Ok, Hunter – are you up for this?"
"I'm really not sure. And you know how upset Marius is gonna be if I scratch the paintwork!"
"Oh, get out of the way." Quiet cursing filled the cockpit with German expletives and complicated compound words that sounded vaguely impossible from an anatomical point of view, as Marius eased himself into the pilot's seat and strapped in, starting up the engines and calling up the checklist. Hunter grinned and sat himself down in the co-pilot's seat, and busied himself with setting up his own displays – though he kept a very subtle watch on Marius out of the corner of his eye.
Two minutes later, the engines were up to speed, and they followed the entirely unnecessary instructions from the ground crew on how to taxi out and follow the clearly-marked path to the runway. The tower gave them immediate clearance, and they soon throttled up and dashed along the runway and into the air in a smooth and fluid manoeuvre.
"See, told you Marius was up to the job!" Hunter called out over the comms.
"That's not entirely what you said, but whatever. We need to find somewhere to stop for the night – find us somewhere to the north of the country, will you, where we can get a decent hotel for the night. We should at least try to follow the post-op plan, and get Marius one really good night of being pampered."
"Gimme a few minutes. Marius – just head kinda north with you?" The rest of the team tuned out the bickering from the front of the aircraft as Marius remonstrated with his navigator on what kind of directions he was getting, until Hunter called back. "How about the Hilton Hotel, town called Groningen. Up near the coast, inner city location near the station, but it has a helipad, says it's rated for our weight. Executive suite is fifteen hundred per night."
"That sounds ideal. Set course please, and send me the details." Kai watched as the hotel booking portal appeared on his screen as Hunter shunted the matrix connection across, and started to fill in the details to register one of his fake personas to the room. As he did so, he saw a couple of tiny marks appear on the screen, and scrolled down to check up on what they meant. "Err, Hunter. Can you look for somewhere else?"
"Why?"
"Well, the suite is fifteen hundred per night. But that's for two people occupancy. Then it's an additional five hundred per night, per person. And another thousand on top for the use of the helipad. And then there's more for flight log details, and… wow. I think there's an extra here, for administration fees – just because there are other extras. Yeah, this is already at five grand for a night's stay. Let's look for something else. We want somewhere nice, but we can do better than that price."
"They have a hot tub though, so I'm still in favour of the Hilton." Aswon pointed out, scrolling through the details on the matrix site for himself.
"I'm not paying five grand for a hot tub. Besides, you'll never fit in it, Aswon."
They flew on for a few minutes, until Shimazu looked up from his own tablet, and called out to them.
"I've been thinking about where that other team might have gone. Kai – you said that there's not many roads through that part of the world, so they're going to have limited options, right?" Kai nodded in agreement, and Shimazu continued. "Might be worth getting in touch with Rasheed and Narsin, up in the mountains. If they're heading north from Oman, they're not necessarily going towards Kabul or Tehran, but they might have crossed paths with someone who was. We've got a good description of this 'Dice' character, so we may be able to get a lead? And if they were heading up towards the 'stans, they might go past there and need fuel. Or if they were heading towards the Caspian."
"Worth a shot I suppose – I think we're on good terms with them, so they may help us out."
"Ok Kai – I've found somewhere else. The 'Leekstemeer villa and conference centre'. It's like a posh hostel, for corporate types to go away to and have a retreat or something. Sleeps about twenty, luxury kitchen, couple of recreation rooms, log fire, games room, sauna, hot tub, heated swimming pool."
"Sounds nice. Though of course I won't fit in the hot tub, apparently." Aswon sniped.
"Set in some decent sized grounds, there's a large lawn area, plenty big enough for us to land in, as well as a car park to the side that would also do – and it's two grand a night."
"Ok, set it up please, and adjust course – let's have a look at this place."
Hunter sent the details back, and they felt the tiny course correction as Marius adjusted their flight plan two degrees to the west. The brochure did look nice, showing a large building that had the feel of a holiday home, with soft luxurious furniture everywhere and good quality fittings. An industrial-style kitchen would make feeding a large group easy, and there was plenty of space to spread out, with an ensuite bathroom available for most of the rooms.
It only took them twenty minutes to reach the villa and circle a few times while Marius sized up the car park and the lawn, deciding in the end to come down on the lawn where there was a bit more clearance from the building, even if the ground was going to be softer. The landing was rough, the craft dipping on the shocks quite heavily as Marius planted them down hard, and Hunter gave him a searching look, making sure he was ok. There wasn't any sign of damage or distress, so he put it down to tiredness and stress, and managed to restrain his sense of humour.
Once they were safely shut down, Kai and Shimazu climbed down from the craft to head to the house, meeting up with the owner of the villa, who introduced herself as Sophie Van Rutugen. She seemed amiable enough, apologising for the lack of food in the place, explaining that they normally had a little more notice of a hire than Kai had given her – but that she could arrange for fresh food to be bought in within the hour. Once she'd taken payment for the night, she seemed a lot more relaxed and showed them around the place, before leaving them to settle in.
Within the hour, they'd moved into the villa, spread out and relaxed, and within two they all found themselves clustered together in the hot-tub – which contrary to Kai's predictions, was actually more than long enough for Aswon to fit in – with a cold beer and a selection of snacks laid out on the tables to the side.
"This is nice," Aswon speared a piece of sausage on the end of his fork, holding up the morsel like a triumphant warrior returning from the plains with a fresh kill, before popping it into his mouth.
"Don't get used to it. Not at a couple of grand a night, anyway." Kai muttered.
"So – we stay here tonight, then what?" Tads asked, moving the conversation away from an argument.
"We rest up, and let Marius recuperate as far as possible, then take off and swing out over the north sea, before heading east over Denmark and into the Baltic, bypassing the Allied German States, and drop down into Poland – and go hunting some bears. Get them, then head south-east, back towards Romania, I guess. Decide if we're going to do some more work for Cosmic against the Admiral on the way back, then over the Black Sea, across Turkey and back home for a brief stop – then on to find these idiots that Germaine's after." Aswon summarised. He let his feet float up from the bottom of the hot tub, toes poking above the foaming surface of the water.
"They're probably not idiots, you know."
"That's what you say, Tads. Deliberately pissing off Germaine? That doesn't sound like a clever plan to me. Not something I ever want to do anyway. Annoying her once by mistake was enough for me…"
He raised a beer, and the team toasted to that as a concept, before leaning back and relaxing, letting the soothing jets of warm water massage them as they looked out of the chill landscape and the lake beyond.
