The Covert Academy by Peter Laurent Page A

indifference towards his minions as they saluted when he walked past, a cover for not wanting to look down from such a height.
    He entered the transport, which took off straight away, floating gently as a leaf on the wind down into the bowels of the Colonnade.
     
    The reception committee that waited for him was sparse. A few Confederate soldiers sprinkled about, trying to look innocuous. They knew what was coming. Simeon stared furiously as a flustered looking scientist hurried down the landing ramp. He reached Simeon, and bent over to catch his breath. He must have run a mile uphill, inadvisable for a man in his sixties.
    ‘Sir! I... I didn’t... I’m sorry I... I... forgot to make the report today,’ he managed. Simeon looked him up and down in disgust.
    ‘Where is my new bio-ID, Brock?’ Simeon said, his rage barely kept in check. ‘You had Prewett’s notes, you had his resources and more besides, so why have I not got my bio-ID yet?’
    ‘But sir...’
    ‘I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.’ Simeon flicked a hand at a nearby guard. ‘Take him to the top of the Tower and throw him off.’ The guard moved to take Brock, no questions asked.
    ‘Sir I have it!’ Brock said. ‘I have a working prototype.’
    Simeon held a hand up to the guard, stopping him.
    ‘Show me,’ he said.
    Brock turned and trotted ahead, wanting to run away but fearful o f what Simeon would do if he fled. Simeon followed him through the winding corridors, always heading further down, as secure from infiltration as possible.
    They passed security checkpoints by the dozen, Simeon was waved through on sight. Automated turrets, defensive drones and human guards stood down as he passed like a rock crashing through a wave.
    Finally they came to Brock’s wing of the laboratory and he showed Simeon through. The room was littered with desktop computers, spare iPCs, random electronic components and medical instruments. Sitting in the centre was a computer connected to a giant device shaped like a jet engine, tapering down to a precision laser on one end.
    Simeon approached it cautiously. ‘This is it?’
    ‘Well it’s just the prototype for now... It’s not quite the same as Dr. Prewett’s work. And I have to improve its power requirements to make it mobile but...’ Brock trailed off, unsure whether he would be praised or punished.
    ‘Excellent work Brock. You’ve tested it of course?’ Simeon asked.
    ‘Uh... no, no...’
    ‘It will work on any iPC?
    ‘Well...um, yes. Actually, it only works on iPCs,’ Brock gulped.
    ‘Ah.’ Simeon pointed at the end of the laser. ‘Sit.’
    Brock managed a frightfu l squeak as he fell into a chair. Simeon selected a scalpel and two iPCs from the supply shelf, and advanced on Brock.
    He powered up the machine minutes later and t he lights flickered in the building, casting strange shadows over Simeon’s gleeful face.
     
     

Chapter 13
     
    Joshua slammed his back into a wall, breathing hard in the hot midday sun. The wall was actually one of the dark masses of coral in the emptied lagoon, and it dug painfully into his side. His jumpsuit, similar to Sarah’s but tailored to fit his own build, injected him with a cocktail of stimulants and painkillers. Should have switched off the auto-meds , he thought. He was going to crash in a few hours and it wouldn’t be pretty.
    He held up a camouflaged fist, signalling his teammates to hold position. Two spectres appeared out of nowhere and took up supporting positions on Joshua’s flank. They were dressed the same as him, their jumpsuit’s camo set to inactive, yet it still did a decent job of hiding them with a static green and brown pattern. The suit, leaving only their eyes exposed, covered every centimetre of their skin.
    Joshua pulled his hood off to wipe the sweat from his brow. They’d run through the entire lagoon basin since early that morning, and he was cooking. He’d have to find a way to broach the subject with Casey