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Clouds scudded low on the horizon. It was so real, so normal, that it was surreal.
"And this… this really is the Omega?"
Peter shrugged. "I guess so."
"You guess so?"
Peter raised his hands. "It's not like I've got some kind of special knowledge, Kendrick. I was trapped down there for years by that bonkers son of a bitch. You don't know what it was like: everything I thought, he heard. Everything he thought, I heard." He gri
The sky had begun to darken even as they spoke, revealing a great whirlpool of stars that stretched from horizon to horizon. The stars themselves rippled, as if invisible shapes were darting through the atmosphere, distorting and refracting the starlight with their passage.
A vivid awareness crept into every cell of Kendrick's being. Everything – the grass, trees, clouds, the stars and even the air – was alive, sentient. It was God, after a fashion, but a God born of science and knowledge.
During his long journey here, Kendrick had seen flesh and silicon merge into an intelligence woven into the fabric of the cosmos itself. He could sense it all around him. It enervated him, overwhelmed him.
"The Archimedes," he managed to say. "What are you going to do when we get there?"
"You'll see," Peter replied. "We won't be speaking again before we arrive. I need to prepare." He paused. "I'm sorry about Caroline."
"Yeah," Kendrick mumbled. "Me too."
"You've not quite taken it in, have you?"
"Not really, no." Kendrick looked back up. "I've seen too many people end up dead over the years."
"Including me."
Kendrick allowed himself a small smile. "Including you. Though it feels really weird to say it with you standing right there."
"You mean you're getting used to it."
"Christ, I hope not." Kendrick let out a bitter chuckle. "Numb to it, more like." The image of Caroline lying dead in the containment room wouldn't leave his mind's eye. He couldn't stop himself imagining what it must have been like for her in her last moments. "Listen, I need to know something," he went on quickly, hoping to banish those thoughts. "Where do I go once we're on board?"
"The main research facility," said Peter, his voice fading. "In the second chamber."
There was still more that Kendrick wanted to ask. But now he could almost sense the confines of the ship's cabin around him again, the hillside fading like little more than a particularly vivid dream.
He woke in the small cabin as klaxons filled the air with a loud whooping that sent dull vibrations through the frame of his bunk.
He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, his mind still reeling from revelation and mystery. Only six hours to launch time.
Twenty minutes later, Kendrick found Sabak up on the ship's bridge, conferring with Arnheim. Buddy and Veliz were there too. The sirens had finally shut off several minutes before, but Kendrick hadn't failed to notice the strained expressions on the crew members he'd passed in the narrow corridors or the way some of them glanced away at his approach. He hadn't had time to check in a mirror, but he reckoned he could assume that he still looked pretty gruesome.
Buddy glanced over when he arrived. "Looks like we're under attack." A look of concern crossed his face. "Look, you've just lost someone important to you. Are you sure you-?"
"I'm fine. I'm not an invalid." Kendrick glanced over at Sabak. "What sort of attack?"
Sabak looked at him as though he was about to tell him that he shouldn't be there. "Hard to say," he finally said, shrugging. "They're holding off for now. But it's not looking good." He turned to look back out towards the horizon.
Kendrick stepped up beside Sabak. From here he could see across the whole of the ship and a large expanse of the ocean beyond. At first he thought the dark line separating sea and sky was a distant shore. Then he saw that it was in fact another ship, but one that apparently stretched across a daunting expanse of the horizon.
Next he glanced over at the launch platform, a hundred or so metres away. Four helicopters were hovering around the shuttle, keeping their distance but clearly presenting a considerable threat. Kendrick could see the missile tubes bulging from their undercarriages.
"Draeger," Sabak informed Kendrick sourly.
"How can you be sure?"
Sabak looked over at Arnheim, who nodded to a bank of screens displaying high-res images of the ship on the horizon. Kendrick could see it was an oil tanker, and it didn't take much to guess that this was where the 'copters had come from.
"We've checked the records," Sabak explained. "The tanker is owned by one of Max Draeger's subsidiary companies."
"Okay, so do we know what he wants?"
Buddy stepped up beside Kendrick. "You were the last one to talk to him. If anybody knows the answer to that question, it's you."
"I told you, he says he wants us to take him or his men up there with us when we go."
Arnheim stabbed a finger out at the four aircraft still buzzing around the shuttle. "Or what? He's going to blow us up? Is that what he wants?"
"He offered us some kind of protection from Los Muertos."
Arnheim turned to Sabak. "Is it worth considering?"
Kendrick stepped towards Arnheim. "No, it's not. Not under any circumstances."
"Sir." A young man stepped over from a bank of terminals on the far side of the bridge. "We've got a message incoming."
Arnheim turned to him. "Is it from the tanker?"
"Yes, sir, they want to talk to the, uh…" He glanced nervously at Kendrick and the other Labrats. "To the passengers."
"That's fine, Stan." Sabak spoke to Arnheim. "Reroute the signal to the back-up comms room and we'll take it in there."
Sabak stepped over to join Kendrick, Buddy and Veliz while gesturing towards the exit.
"If you please," he said quietly. "It's just on the next deck down. No reason to get the crew or the launch staff any more worried than they need to be."
A few minutes later they found themselves in a long low-ceilinged room furnished with office chairs and banks of terminals similar to the ones that Kendrick had seen on the bridge itself. A crewman glanced over his shoulder as they entered, his gaze lingering on Kendrick for a little longer than might have been considered polite under normal circumstances. Kendrick watched as the crewman finally remembered how to close his mouth. Sabak dismissed the man and slid into the vacated seat. He began rapidly tapping at a touchscreen.
As Kendrick and the rest stepped up behind him, a variety of views of the surrounding ocean sprang to life on the wall-mounted screens. Kendrick could see that the tanker had drawn nearer, approaching the launch pad at an angle. It had probably been braking for some time.
Another screen sprang to life, fizzing with static before resolving into an image of Max Draeger talking to someone off-camera. He turned, his eyes looking slightly to one side as he focused on the lens of his display screen.
Sabak addressed Draeger's image. "Mr Draeger, we have you on a secure line. You're speaking directly to me and some witnesses here aboard the launch-control vessel. I'm a director of the company that owns this facility. Is that approaching tanker yours?"
"Yes, it is." Draeger's voice sounded calm. "I have a proposition to make to you."
"Just a minute," said Sabak, shooing Buddy away with a wave of his hand as he leant forward to speak. "I have to ask, are those helicopters around our launch pad also yours? Because if they are, you're currently in violation of enough internationally recognized regulations to bury you in a ton of shit from now till doomsday. Those 'copters are armed, and that in itself is considered an act of piracy."