them?"
"You reckon he passed on data from Programme #228?"
"Some of it, at least. Why else would his code be tagged to this message?"
"Then we gotta find this Delta place," said Helm. "Bag, you got a location?"
"Negative," Bagman replied. "This is just an addendum to orders already sent. Wherever this Domain Delta place is, it's too sensitive for standard channels."
"Damn!" growled Rogue. "Then we're back at square one."
"Maybe not." Bagman sent a new set of pulses down the cables to the datacore. "I'm gonna widen the search, see if I can find anything else that..." His words trailed off into silence. When he spoke again, it was in a hushed whisper. "Synth me..."
Helm's voice was low. "What you got?"
"Forget that Delta stuff for a second. You ain't gonna believe this." He paused, and then from the opening on the pack, the manipulator produced a digi-pad. "Here, see for yourself."
Rogue took the panel and activated the screen. The telltale Nort symbology of a lightning bolt striking downwards from a darkened sky filled the display. "It's a vidiganda broadcast."
"Time-stamp says it's going to air tomorrow. Keep watching."
The Nort simulant DeeTrick appeared on the screen and winked. "Hello my brave boychiks! Oh, do I have a surprise for you! I'm here in the cityplex of San Diablo, which you might recall we took from those silly Suds like candy from a baby, yah? Well, our handsome lads in covert operations have asked me to announce the capture of a very, very special person." The svelte android woman was walking through the streets of the captured city toward the stadium that lay at its centre. Her tone turned serious and grim; Rogue's ultra-sensitive hearing picked out the subliminal audio cues as she spoke. "Many of you have heard the legend of a Sud super-duper-soldier that stalks the combat zones, preying on our fighters and performing unspeakable acts of barbarism." DeeTrick paused and wiped a theatrically large tear from her eye. "Those poor boys... But now they're going to have their debts paid in full! The proud army of the Nordland Territories has seized one of Nu Earth's most horrific and deadly Souther war criminals!" The simulant threw open the stadium doors and there in the middle of the vast arena was a lone figure strapped to an X-shaped crucifix. "Sons of Nordland, I bring before you the monstrous Genetik Infantryman: the Rogue Trooper!"
The camera's view panned in to reveal a blue-skinned male, heavily beaten, hanging loosely in his restraints. DeeTrick clasped his chin and held up his face; weak yellow eyes blinked back at them from the screen.
"What the hell is this?" Rogue hissed.
"The war criminal's trial will take place here in twenty-four hours, after which he will be found guilty and executed by firing squad," the android said happily. "Don't forget to tune in, folks! We'll be live across Nu Earth to say bye-bye to blue-boy!"
The screen went blank. "If that's a trap, then it's the most overdone one I've ever come across."
"It's gotta be," insisted Helm. "That tech in the wreck, he had to be a plant."
"I don't think so," Bagman broke in. "I've been monitoring the comm channels since we left Dix-I, and there's some hush-hush stuff going on in San Diablo. This vid and the radio traffic I'm seeing in the datacore... It looks legit."
Rogue called out. "Gunnar, you hearing this?"
"Yeah," came the reply. "Maybe we oughta let the Norts ice that guy. The pressure would be off if they thought we were dead."
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Bagman snapped. "Rogue, whoever the Norts have got there, he ain't you but he is a GI. I got the bio-scans right here."
"But Rogue's the last of us still breathing, right? We know everyone else got scragged in the Zone. So who's that joker?"
After a long moment, Rogue gave the only answer he could. "There's one way to find out."
Helm made an electronic snort. "You want to go get him? What are we gonna do, just waltz into the middle of a fortified Nort
"You reckon he passed on data from Programme #228?"
"Some of it, at least. Why else would his code be tagged to this message?"
"Then we gotta find this Delta place," said Helm. "Bag, you got a location?"
"Negative," Bagman replied. "This is just an addendum to orders already sent. Wherever this Domain Delta place is, it's too sensitive for standard channels."
"Damn!" growled Rogue. "Then we're back at square one."
"Maybe not." Bagman sent a new set of pulses down the cables to the datacore. "I'm gonna widen the search, see if I can find anything else that..." His words trailed off into silence. When he spoke again, it was in a hushed whisper. "Synth me..."
Helm's voice was low. "What you got?"
"Forget that Delta stuff for a second. You ain't gonna believe this." He paused, and then from the opening on the pack, the manipulator produced a digi-pad. "Here, see for yourself."
Rogue took the panel and activated the screen. The telltale Nort symbology of a lightning bolt striking downwards from a darkened sky filled the display. "It's a vidiganda broadcast."
"Time-stamp says it's going to air tomorrow. Keep watching."
The Nort simulant DeeTrick appeared on the screen and winked. "Hello my brave boychiks! Oh, do I have a surprise for you! I'm here in the cityplex of San Diablo, which you might recall we took from those silly Suds like candy from a baby, yah? Well, our handsome lads in covert operations have asked me to announce the capture of a very, very special person." The svelte android woman was walking through the streets of the captured city toward the stadium that lay at its centre. Her tone turned serious and grim; Rogue's ultra-sensitive hearing picked out the subliminal audio cues as she spoke. "Many of you have heard the legend of a Sud super-duper-soldier that stalks the combat zones, preying on our fighters and performing unspeakable acts of barbarism." DeeTrick paused and wiped a theatrically large tear from her eye. "Those poor boys... But now they're going to have their debts paid in full! The proud army of the Nordland Territories has seized one of Nu Earth's most horrific and deadly Souther war criminals!" The simulant threw open the stadium doors and there in the middle of the vast arena was a lone figure strapped to an X-shaped crucifix. "Sons of Nordland, I bring before you the monstrous Genetik Infantryman: the Rogue Trooper!"
The camera's view panned in to reveal a blue-skinned male, heavily beaten, hanging loosely in his restraints. DeeTrick clasped his chin and held up his face; weak yellow eyes blinked back at them from the screen.
"What the hell is this?" Rogue hissed.
"The war criminal's trial will take place here in twenty-four hours, after which he will be found guilty and executed by firing squad," the android said happily. "Don't forget to tune in, folks! We'll be live across Nu Earth to say bye-bye to blue-boy!"
The screen went blank. "If that's a trap, then it's the most overdone one I've ever come across."
"It's gotta be," insisted Helm. "That tech in the wreck, he had to be a plant."
"I don't think so," Bagman broke in. "I've been monitoring the comm channels since we left Dix-I, and there's some hush-hush stuff going on in San Diablo. This vid and the radio traffic I'm seeing in the datacore... It looks legit."
Rogue called out. "Gunnar, you hearing this?"
"Yeah," came the reply. "Maybe we oughta let the Norts ice that guy. The pressure would be off if they thought we were dead."
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Bagman snapped. "Rogue, whoever the Norts have got there, he ain't you but he is a GI. I got the bio-scans right here."
"But Rogue's the last of us still breathing, right? We know everyone else got scragged in the Zone. So who's that joker?"
After a long moment, Rogue gave the only answer he could. "There's one way to find out."
Helm made an electronic snort. "You want to go get him? What are we gonna do, just waltz into the middle of a fortified Nort
Similar Books
Short Squeeze
Chris Knopf
Rebel Rockstar
Marci Fawn
What Hides Within
Jason Parent
Every Single Second
Tricia Springstubb
Out to Lunch
Stacey Ballis
Lyn Cote
The Baby Bequest
The Steel Spring
Per Wahlöö
Running Scared
Elizabeth Lowell
The Secret Place
Tana French