The Augenspire (Origins of Elaria Book 1) Page 22

  “Shit—Augen, you scared me.” Andreas blinked a few times and then added, “Something is wrong, but everyone has their heads too far up their asses over this attack on Major Fox to realize it.”

  Andreas was extremely intelligent and it was easy to trust him, knowing he always spoke his mind and didn’t bother sucking up to those above him. While others might dislike Andreas for his lack of reverence in the presence of a superior, Topher actually admired it about the man.

  “Something is wrong other than the attack on Fox?” Topher asked curiously, watching Andreas idly move his hands away from each other to zoom in on one of the displays—the ground floor of the bank.

  “Yes, but I can’t figure out what it is just yet. No one else is interested in pursuing it because they’re hell-bent on being the one to find Mercuria, and I don’t have any proof there’s something more important we’re all missing.”

  “I’ll requisition a few of your peers to help you when I’m finished here,” Topher offered, and Andreas turned away from the monitors to face him again.

  “Thank you, sir. Try to swing for Merkel and Fosway if you can manage it; they’re the only ones on shift right now who might be useful to me.”

  “I thought you all had assigned partners; is yours ill?” Topher glanced at the empty desk abutting Andreas’s.

  Andreas snorted and said, “Crowley is barely competent enough to wipe his own ass. I get that my boss is trying to screw me because he thinks I’m an asshole, but next time I’d rather have him literally screw me than assign me another Crowley to work with.”

  “So you think something is going to happen at First Orbital?” Topher turned his attention back to the issue at hand, diverted from his original purpose in coming to see the Minor. Though the two might be closely-related, if Hera is involved.

  “I’m not sure.” The Minor frowned. “I woke up this morning with a bad feeling about this area, and I have no idea why. I must have seen something small on the feeds yesterday that didn’t add up, only I didn’t recognize it for what it was until I parsed everything out in my sleep.”

  Topher studied the monitor showing the interior of the first floor. It looked like business as usual inside the bank: black-and-white marble floors were being polished by a janitor who was dressed better than most businessmen; a few wealthy clients standing at individual windows set at waist height were being assisted by the bankers in three-piece suits, sitting in plush swivel-chairs behind the marble countertops. There was no line, but that wasn’t uncommon, as First Orbital prided themselves on doing business only with the wealthiest and most prominent of clients at its headquarters.

  Andreas was drumming his fingers rapidly on the desk in front of him, which caused the displays to bounce slightly as they got signal readings from his Tekkies.

  “If you think there is a real threat coming in the imminent future, tell them to shut the building down until the threat can be assessed more fully,” Topher suggested.

  Andreas looked at him like he was insane.

  “Are you kidding me? You want me to call up First Orbital and tell them I woke up worried this morning and so could they please close down their headquarters until I feel better about it?”

  Topher raised his eyebrows and said, “If you believe there is a danger, then it is your obligation to take measures to prevent it. If you don’t believe there is a real threat, you should return to your regularly scheduled assignment. Which is it?”

  Andreas contemplated him in silence for a moment and then let out a short laugh.

  “Damn it, Augen. You don’t do things by half-measure, do you?”

  “Not really,” Topher admitted.

  “Are you willing to back me up when the Viceroy gets an angry call from the president of First Orbital over my ordering them to shut down their headquarters for an undetermined period of time?”

  “I am.”

  Andreas flicked his hands to bring up a virtual keyboard and punched in the number for the bank with a dubious look on his face, as though absolutely certain this could never work. He probably wasn’t used to people trusting his gut feelings so easily, but Topher had been on edge for the last few days, so he was inclined to believe there was something wrong in the city right now if someone else said so.

  Since the call was coming from the Augenspire, it was routed to the president’s office rather than the automated answering service.

  “It’s busy,” Andreas informed him, as though Topher had never heard a busy signal in his life before.

  “It’s Thursday,” Topher replied drily, earning a strange look from the Minor. “Sorry, I thought we were stating obvious facts,” he continued. “Override it.”

  “It might be an important call.”

  “Then we’ll apologize for ending it,” Topher said, reaching past Andreas to the keyboard tucked away behind the monitors and typing in his seventeen-digit override code.

  The president’s phone call was abruptly terminated and their call patched through in its place. The president’s face appeared on monitor three, looking thoroughly annoyed.

  “What in the—Major Augen, Minor. How can I assist you?” he changed tones mid-sentence upon seeing the two faces staring back at him through monitor three.

  “I request and require an immediate shutdown of your headquarters until further notice,” Andreas said in an authoritative voice.

  “Are you insane?” the president blurted out, forgetting who he was speaking to. “Why in the world do you want me to shut down my headquarters?”

  “We have received intelligence that there may be an attack planned there, and it will take time to properly investigate to ensure the safety of your staff and clients.”

  “But—but the whole building?” the president pleaded. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to shut down all ninety-two floors of this building and get everyone out? Not to mention the fact that over one thousand branches of First Orbital are all networking into our computer systems right now for transactions—we’d have to shut everything down across the entire globe. Hell, we don’t even own all ninety-two floors—we rent space out to other small businesses as well, so we would have to shut them down and—”

  Topher leaned forward slightly and said, “Then shut them down.”

  Both Andreas and the president of First Orbital stared at him in utter bafflement for a long moment, until he felt compelled to add, “Did I stutter? Make the necessary calls.”

  While the president was still reeling from the unexpected command, Andreas had turned his attention to monitor four, which still showed the ground floor of the bank.

  “But—but Major Augen, you must understand…”

  “Those glasses look wrong,” Andreas mumbled softly, tilting his head to one side as though to better see them. Topher immediately stopped listening to the president of First Orbital and turned to the other monitor.

  A woman had entered the bank and was approaching the available banker at the far end of the room, though she passed two others to get to him. Her frizzy red hair partially obscured the glasses perched on top of her head.

  Before Topher could say anything, Andreas added, “They look like they’ve got high-gloss shielding over the lenses, but only low-spectra glasses would need—SHUT THE DOORS!”

  He shouted it so loudly that the Minors at the nearest workstations startled in their seats and looked around at them. Even Topher flinched in surprise.

  “Lock it down, NOW!” Andreas shouted, and when the president didn’t react immediately he let loose a string of curse words and began typing frantically into the virtual keyboard floating in front of him.

  Topher could suddenly see what he had missed before. The woman had approached the teller at the end of the row for a reason. She slipped a hand into her purse and withdrew something he couldn’t see, sticking it surreptitiously to the underside of the counter while she spoke to the banker behind it.

  “Close the—” Topher began as he saw the blast shielding begin to snap in
to place all along the ground floor of the building. Bankers and customers cried out in shock as thick steel plating thudded down from the ceiling above them and covered the walls and windows, circling the building and moving towards the entrance.

  “Computer systems are down and servers are back-feeding to the hub. Electric and air systems are shut off. Come on, blast doors…” Andreas leaned forward in his chair, waiting for the metal shielding to block the main door and seal everyone inside. In the seconds before this could happen, the woman at the counter dove behind a marble column with the glasses pulled over her eyes. An aerial speeder crashed through the glass front doors, hit the teller’s desk right where she had been standing, and exploded.

  Andreas’ monitors from the ground floor immediately went black, though they saw the president shake visibly in his darkened office as though in an earthquake.

  “Damn it!” Andreas slammed his fists against the desk in agitation, forgetting the Tekkies he wore, and his entire workstation powered down in response.

  There was a sharp upswing in the level of noise around them, as lights began to blink at desks all around the room and displays were overridden with new information. People jumped to their feet and ran from the room to their emergency stations. Someone keyed in the signal to alert the Viceroy and the Provo-Major. Topher’s communicator immediately began buzzing with the emergency code.

  “Andreas, send me all of the footage you’ve got on this,” Topher demanded. “Report to the command center and await further orders—you’re the only one who knows what happened, and you’ll need to report everything to the others as soon as they assemble.”

  With that he left the room, walking purposefully towards the elevators and frowning because they were all at other floors. A crowd was growing around him as Provo-Minor tried to get to their respective crisis stations.

  They may have to wait, but I don’t.

  Topher scanned his ID-chip at the closest elevator and said, “Emergency override one-one-six-seven-bravo.”

  A blue laser flashed over his face to confirm his identity and then the elevator—which had been on the one-hundredth floor—abruptly dropped downwards, speeding past the intervening floors so quickly the numbers weren’t even identifiable on the display until around the thirtieth floor when it began to brake.

  The doors opened to reveal a startled-looking desk clerk who Topher evicted from the lift as he boarded it, punching the button for the two-hundredth floor and rapidly ascending. He exited at the top level and scanned his biochip again to switch elevators. There was no crowd around the lifts here.

  At the three-hundredth floor, he saw other Majors assembling. They were checking their communicators and frantically trying to figure out what was going on while they waited. The Viceroy stepped into view at a brisk walk, adjusting the last of his full armor as he approached; he must have pulled it on in transit.

  “There was an explosion at First Orbital headquarters,” Topher announced to the room at large, though he was focused on the Viceroy. “Bottom floor, probable terrorist attack. Andreas and I were sealing the blast-doors at the time of the explosion, so I’m not sure how much damage has been done to the building or how many fatalities there are.”

  “You knew this was coming?” Shellina surprised Topher by asking from the other side of the room. Topher hadn’t even seen her until now. For once she was wearing the light armor her older sister typically preferred instead of a flouncy dress, and he was shocked at how mature it made her look.

  “Andreas suspected something was going to happen at the bank, and asked me to support his decision to shut it down for further investigation.” Well, that was mostly true. “We were just instructing the president to close down the building when the attack began. Andreas overrode the computers there and activated the blast walls, but they weren’t fully deployed when the speeder flew through the front doors.”

  “Sounds like Hera is feeling bold after that disgusting assault on Fox,” Kristoff posited from nearby.

  “Emergency responders have already been deployed, and the building is being evacuated,” Jessamine entered the room now, consulting her communicator display. “It seems the building is still standing, though there’s no telling what the structural integrity looks like at this point, so they are still in full evacuation mode. Power was cut to the building before the blast, and the servers were all able to back-up their data to the hub before impact.”

  “I’m going to assist with rescue and cleanup operations,” the Viceroy announced.

  “It’s dangerous, Excellency,” Andros informed him. “There might be more terrorists waiting around, hoping you’ll show up so they can get a clear shot at you. For all we know, it could be the reason they attacked such a high-profile building in the first place—it’s the next-best thing to the Augenspire to get your attention.”

  “The people need to see me there, and I need to condemn the act of terrorism openly,” the Viceroy insisted over his objections. “I’ll need four Majors with me for security. Jessamine will act in my stead from here as needed, while the Minors gather all of the pertinent facts of this event.”

  “I want to go with you,” Shellina surprised Topher again by speaking up, looking determined. Her father looked equally stunned. “I may only be a younger Vicerina, but they’re my people too and I want to help in whatever way I can.”

  Has anyone checked to make sure Shellina hasn’t been clubbed over the head and replaced by an imposter?

  The Viceroy looked like he was thinking the same thing, but Jessamine looked pleased with her younger sister and said, “That’s a good idea.”

  “I beg to differ, Vicerina,” Kristoff said boldly. “Sending most of the ruling family out to the scene of a terrorist act—”

  “Then double the number of Majors escorting them, unless you have something more important to do,” Jessamine said bitingly, and her father nodded agreement.

  “Shellina is coming. I want eight Majors in their heavies ready to depart within five minutes.”

  The Majors scrambled to get to the elevator, Topher included, until the Viceroy grabbed him by the arm in passing and said, “Not you. You’ll remain with Jessamine.”

  Topher blinked at this and said, “Why?” which was a colossally impertinent question, since it didn’t really matter why he was being ordered to stay behind.

  “I need someone with her whom she and I both trust, in case something happens to us, and—let’s just say I need someone I can trust.”

  The echo of “Four turns…” in his head sent a shiver up Topher’s spine, and for a wild moment he almost blurted out the whole thing to the Viceroy of Elaria. Given the current plot against him, Roald might just believe Topher’s eerie thoughts to be some sort of psychic premonition, as opposed to simple psychosis.

  “Understood, Excellency.” Topher allowed the opportunity for confession to pass, stepping away from the elevator and moving to stand near Jessamine, trying, as usual, not to notice her too obviously.

  As the Viceroy and Shellina left with their entourage, a silence fell over the three-hundredth level as all eyes turned to Jessamine.

  Without missing a beat she said, “Topher, select three more Majors to remain with us here. I want ten others on standby in this building in case I need to send reinforcements after the Viceroy and Vicerina. Everyone else can return to their normal assignments and sleep schedules.”

  A Major named Lara said, “Normal assignments? But—”

  “The damage appears to be contained to one building, and emergency response crews have been dispatched. There is no reason to shut down the entire Augenspire while we await more news. Inform everyone that anyone who is not assigned to this incident should return to their business. We will not let one terrorist act will shut down the entire government.”

  The Major nodded, then she and most of her fellows departed for the elevators, arguing briefly over who would remain on standby and who would return to their normal duties. Topher picked three w
ho were relatively trustworthy and competent to stay behind.

  When it was just the five of them, they settled into the white-upholstered living area and turned to their communicators as more information came in from the scene of the attack. Topher had seen the attack live, and wasn’t terribly interested in the remaining details from the scene unless they identified the assailants. He put his comm away on his belt and remained on guard instead, glancing around the area to ensure its safety.

  Jessamine noticed his restlessness and shared pertinent information with him as he idly walked around the room, continually checking for threats despite his growing boredom. It was clear that whatever was happening outside, it wasn’t a diversion to stage an attack on Jessamine while her father was away.

  The Vicerina looked up at him more than once, seeming like she wanted to speak but for some reason holding her tongue. Perhaps she wanted to ask for his opinion on the terrorist attack and why Hera would strike at the heart of the banking district—a question he had no reasonable answer for. Or maybe she wanted to know why he was staring out the window of the three-hundredth floor without any Talents equipped, wishing he had a way to vent off his excess energy. It was impossible to know what she wanted to say to him, since she rarely solicited conversation with him when others were around; perhaps she was also aware of the rumors about them and was trying to distance herself from them.

  So he remained by the window, staring off into empty space and waiting for something to happen, uncomfortably aware of the presence in his head of the strange voice that sometimes whispered to him.

  Go away, this isn’t a good time.

  Not that it was ever a good time to have his thoughts invaded by a barely-intelligible voice uttering dire-but-obscure warnings to him. It never seemed to matter what he said in response to it—mentally or aloud—or what he wanted. He didn’t think he would mind the horrible intrusion nearly as much if he just knew whether it was real or a product of his own mind turning on him. If the voice was real, then he could turn his attention to figuring out whether his neural network was being hacked by terrorists, and tracking down the source, as this seemed the most likely cause. If this was all a byproduct of his own mind’s instability, well…at least he could choose to ignore its warnings.