now.’
‘Please be aware that any attempts to gain control of this craft by the use of illegally acquired overrides may be punishable in a court of law by a fine or a possible jail sentence,’ the ’copter replied, in a smooth tone. ‘If you wish to confirm, please—’
‘Confirmed!’ Saul screamed, realizing that the slick dampness beneath him was his own blood, pouring out of his shoulder wound. ‘Just fucking do it!’ he screamed.
The rotors quickly built up to a high-pitched whine and, as it lifted, the ’copter angled to one side, showing him the flat landscape of the station beneath. One or two faint sparks of light from the direction of the dome told him somebody was still trying to shoot him down.
‘My systems suggest you may be injured,’ the ’copter continued, its tone blandly untroubled. ‘Are you in need of any medical assistance?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Saul replied weakly, aware that dawn was already spreading pale fingers across the sky. ‘I need to get to a hospital.’
He could still feel the Koch cold and hard against his fingers and palm. The ’copter dipped again as it angled across the sky, and Saul felt like he was falling into a grey blank eternity that swallowed up the last of his thoughts, as he finally slipped into unconsciousness.
FOUR
Florida Array Exclusion Zone, East Coast Republic, 18 January 2235
The road stretched ahead, a black asphalt line dividing the world in two, with the APC carrying the rest of the squadron just a couple of dozen metres ahead of him. Monk leaned forward to peer up, past the curve of the truck’s windshield, at black clouds incipient with rain.
He sat back, shifted his grip on the steering wheel and glanced to his side. Naz had placed his taser attachment and extra magazines of ammo on the upper part of the dashboard while he checked and rechecked his Cobra, snapping open the feed assembly and pushing two fingers inside.
Monk studied him with a growing sense of irritation, before turning back to the road. Small drops of moisture landed on the glass, while a sudden wind stirred the tops of the trees lining the ditches on either side of the road.
‘Eyes on the road, Sergeant,’ Naz muttered without looking up.
Insubordinate son of a bitch , thought Monk.
The clouds finally broke and gusts of rain billowed across the expressway. Monk caught a glimpse of a sign telling him that Orlando was fifty kilometres away.
‘How many times have you already checked that damn thing?’ Monk demanded, but Naz only grinned as he snapped the feed assembly shut once more and started to reattach the taser just under the Cobra’s barrel. The Faraday mesh, wrapped around the weapon’s targeting systems, glittered softly.
‘Not enough times, Sergeant,’ Naz replied. ‘Knew a guy back in the day got blown to shit when his gun jammed. Ain’t gonna let the same thing happen to me.’ He slid a magazine into place, studying the weapon with the kind of fascinated admiration that most men Monk knew saved for Orlando’s strip clubs.
‘Islamabad?’ asked Monk.
Another sign, so badly rusted that he could barely make out the words, told him they were coming up on what had been a marsh conservation area. Not that anybody bothered with that kind of thing any more; he checked the local network through his contacts and saw nothing about anything getting conserved. The bushes and cypresses lining the road looked wild and unkempt. The traffic was light: most vehicles on the road this close to the Florida Array were either army or supplies, although they had also passed a few private cars belonging to Array staff.
‘Wasn’t the war, Sergeant,’ Naz replied, settling back to scan the horizon. ‘Was back in LA. Dumb shithead I knew got caught th a house full of pharm goods, and thought he could shoot his way out when the cops turned up on his doorstep. His gun had a systems failure ’cause he didn’t take proper care of it. Had a white coffin at his
‘Please be aware that any attempts to gain control of this craft by the use of illegally acquired overrides may be punishable in a court of law by a fine or a possible jail sentence,’ the ’copter replied, in a smooth tone. ‘If you wish to confirm, please—’
‘Confirmed!’ Saul screamed, realizing that the slick dampness beneath him was his own blood, pouring out of his shoulder wound. ‘Just fucking do it!’ he screamed.
The rotors quickly built up to a high-pitched whine and, as it lifted, the ’copter angled to one side, showing him the flat landscape of the station beneath. One or two faint sparks of light from the direction of the dome told him somebody was still trying to shoot him down.
‘My systems suggest you may be injured,’ the ’copter continued, its tone blandly untroubled. ‘Are you in need of any medical assistance?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Saul replied weakly, aware that dawn was already spreading pale fingers across the sky. ‘I need to get to a hospital.’
He could still feel the Koch cold and hard against his fingers and palm. The ’copter dipped again as it angled across the sky, and Saul felt like he was falling into a grey blank eternity that swallowed up the last of his thoughts, as he finally slipped into unconsciousness.
FOUR
Florida Array Exclusion Zone, East Coast Republic, 18 January 2235
The road stretched ahead, a black asphalt line dividing the world in two, with the APC carrying the rest of the squadron just a couple of dozen metres ahead of him. Monk leaned forward to peer up, past the curve of the truck’s windshield, at black clouds incipient with rain.
He sat back, shifted his grip on the steering wheel and glanced to his side. Naz had placed his taser attachment and extra magazines of ammo on the upper part of the dashboard while he checked and rechecked his Cobra, snapping open the feed assembly and pushing two fingers inside.
Monk studied him with a growing sense of irritation, before turning back to the road. Small drops of moisture landed on the glass, while a sudden wind stirred the tops of the trees lining the ditches on either side of the road.
‘Eyes on the road, Sergeant,’ Naz muttered without looking up.
Insubordinate son of a bitch , thought Monk.
The clouds finally broke and gusts of rain billowed across the expressway. Monk caught a glimpse of a sign telling him that Orlando was fifty kilometres away.
‘How many times have you already checked that damn thing?’ Monk demanded, but Naz only grinned as he snapped the feed assembly shut once more and started to reattach the taser just under the Cobra’s barrel. The Faraday mesh, wrapped around the weapon’s targeting systems, glittered softly.
‘Not enough times, Sergeant,’ Naz replied. ‘Knew a guy back in the day got blown to shit when his gun jammed. Ain’t gonna let the same thing happen to me.’ He slid a magazine into place, studying the weapon with the kind of fascinated admiration that most men Monk knew saved for Orlando’s strip clubs.
‘Islamabad?’ asked Monk.
Another sign, so badly rusted that he could barely make out the words, told him they were coming up on what had been a marsh conservation area. Not that anybody bothered with that kind of thing any more; he checked the local network through his contacts and saw nothing about anything getting conserved. The bushes and cypresses lining the road looked wild and unkempt. The traffic was light: most vehicles on the road this close to the Florida Array were either army or supplies, although they had also passed a few private cars belonging to Array staff.
‘Wasn’t the war, Sergeant,’ Naz replied, settling back to scan the horizon. ‘Was back in LA. Dumb shithead I knew got caught th a house full of pharm goods, and thought he could shoot his way out when the cops turned up on his doorstep. His gun had a systems failure ’cause he didn’t take proper care of it. Had a white coffin at his
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