The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

“I’ve been trying, dear,” Lucinda said, lacking the swagger she carried into the ill-fated GPM conference. “Poor Evan has fallen under the spell of his children, I fear. He’d been thinking of ceding family control for years.”

“And Malcolm?” She questioned Ezekiel. “What’s his stance?”

“One of his favorite Solomons was assassinated yesterday. She worked for his family since before Malcolm was born. Cared more about her than his own mother. Maybe he’ll fight, maybe he’ll surrender. At the moment, he’s paralyzed.”

“He won’t take my link. You have to keep trying, Ezekiel. He has contacts inside the Guard. People we must have.”

Ezekiel wiped his brow. “Even if something comes of this, your plan … it’s too big. The math doesn’t work.”

“It’s not about math, Ezekiel. It’s about tides.” She glanced to her pilot, who nodded from inside the Scram’s navigation cylinder. They were landing. “If we see each other again, I’ll tell you what I mean.”

Sam scrapped the holowindow and double-tapped her temple. Somehow, she felt Lucinda and Ezekiel, as if they lived inside her. When the Scram touched down, Sam disengaged from the still-seat. She leveled her rifle and took position behind her team, led by Joseph Doltrice, former Guard special operations captain and the oldest of her mercenaries. She tapped the neck plate of her bodysuit, and a combat helmet encircled her skull.

The starboard bulkhead pixelated, and they jumped.

The massive estate house – built more than six centuries ago in a castle-like Brimoge style – blocked the last setting rays of the sun. Its silhouette of towers and domes dwarfed the Pynn house. This, Sam reminded herself, was what old-school Chancellor power looked like. Security countermeasures launched exactly as her intel predicted.

Floodlights exploded from every direction – even the external spotlights pivoted inward. A silver flash overhead revealed a magnetic dome designed to trap invaders while estate defenses captured or slaughtered them. She activated the DR29 grid inside the helmet, allowing her a clear schematic of the grounds and a link to Captain Doltrice’s feed.

Flash pegs and laser pulses enveloped them in an expected storm. The team raced toward their target position, firing at locations where snipers were trying to take them out. Her body armor absorbed the killing energy of the pegs and lasers, but Sam staggered when hit by multiple shots at her legs.

Though they knew what to expect after all Sam’s earlier pleas for estate entry were denied, Sam didn’t think the armor would hold up to more than thirty seconds of an onslaught. Despite wearing a close substitute for proprietary UG body armor, its fabricated strength was less than ninety percent Guard-effective.

They sprinted fast as they could toward the east portico – their way inside – but they seemed to have no success taking out snipers. Even if they pushed through, what awaited them inside? Could they hope to survive combat in close quarters?

Sam closed off all doubts and charged with her team, firing with precision and a cold heart, exactly as her father taught.

Which made the team’s easy entry through the portico a frightening shock. The instant they penetrated the grounds and escaped the lines of sniper fire, resistance disappeared.

Capt. Doltrice took point as they penetrated the portico and entered a grand vestibule not unlike inside the Pynn estate. Corridors led in four directions, with a magnificent, carpeted staircase ascending two flights. They held weapons high, scoping every angle where security personnel might pick them off with ease. Nothing.

“Feel free to lower your rifles.” The voice came from on high. “Trust me. You’re in no danger.”

Sam looked to the top of the stairs, where a familiar face lorded over them. She’d met him twice – once at dinner with Michael and Finnegan. He rejected her links twenty times in the past week.

Moss Chief of Staff David Ellstrom cut an imposing figure, more intimidating than when he played a secondary role at dinner, deferring to his boss. He held out his hands, as if to surrender.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Ellstrom continued. “But you’re here, and you’ll kill somebody if I allow this insanity to continue.” He started down the stairs. “I am alone except for a skeleton staff of household maintenance.”

Sam tapped off her helmet. “And what about the snipers that nearly tore us apart out there?”

“What snipers would those be?”

Capt. Doltrice tapped off his helmet and sneered.

“Unbelievable.” He pivoted to Sam. “It’s a SimShield. I thought I recognized the patterns. I’ve been out of the game too long.”

Sam was baffled. “What’s a SimShield?”

“Don’t see it so much on Earth. Mostly a colonial favorite. Chancellors protecting real estate from indigo raiders. It’s an automated defense system. Uses a mimic sequence to create the illusion of human heat signatures. Weapons fire is as deadly as the owner chooses.” He turned to Ellstrom. “You nulled the flash pegs?”

“Yes,” Ellstrom smiled, halfway down the stairs. “I set the laser pulses at twenty-five percent. Enough to incapacitate … unless you’re wearing body armor.”

“Wait, what?” Sam lowered her rifle as her blood steamed. “It was all a show? If you didn’t intend to put us down, why didn’t you just take my link and invite me over like I requested?”

“Because I have my orders. And, frankly, because I didn’t expect you to be so persistent.” He examined her mercs with disdain. “Or violent. Things are at a delicate stage right now.”

Sam laughed. “You think?”

“I am sorry, the way things turned out. I truly am.”

“No. That’s not good enough. I’m not leaving here without answers. Where is Finnegan Moss?”

“Far from here, Samantha, which I’m sure your intel confirms.”

“I thought we were allies. Finnegan said he’d keep us in the loop.”

David reached the bottom of the stairs. “As much as he could. Yes. Might we talk in private, Samantha?”

“Wouldn’t advise it, Miss Pynn,” Doltrice said.