The screen showed the first missiles vanishing. 'IT2' said the voice said, in reference to the second set, which must have had time to correct and follow me over the ridge.

  Two seconds to impact. Looks like the Accord didn't care about civilians after all.

  Well, I'd given it a good shake.

  Suddenly there was an awful bang, and the Slingshot pitched up and to port. The missile icons disappeared from the screen, and the two Slingshots pursuing me were banking away from the coast, out of the restricted airspace.

  They'd detonated the missiles anyway.

  I kept the Slingshot climbing, just in case. The altimeter displayed 15,000 feet--roughly three miles high. And with relief, I knew I was all alone.

  I pushed the joystick forward, leveled off and then descended while I looked at the map.

  I had overshot Hong Kong and its skyscrapers by twenty miles and was now flying over AONT Mainland China. I pulled a wide banking turn, back toward Hong Kong Island. That's where the Establishment Day celebrations would probably take place, down by the harbor's edge.

  But now a new problem arose. A different voice in my helmet spoke. A gruff male voice. All business.

  'Naval aircraft Gender Fluidity, this is the control tower at Hong Kong International Airport. You have just entered restricted civilian airspace above our runways.'

  47

  AONT SUB-TERRITORY Hong Kong Airport was one of the busiest in the Accord. It was even busier than the airport at AONT sub-territory Los Angeles. The stack of aircraft above the airport was said to be thirty planes high at any time.

  Today was no exception.

  And I was right in the middle of it.

  Looking up and to the left, I could see the stack itself, rising miles above me in the rain. Short haul CloudCastors, long haul SkyClippers, enormous Skyships, sleek private jets, giant, bulb-nosed Colossus Class liners.

  They could have come from anywhere--from AONT London (2 hours), AONT New York (2.5 hours) AONT Tokyo (0.5 hours), each bearing as many as two thousand passengers at a time.

  The sky was full of behemoths. It was a very dangerous place for a fleeing Slingshot to suddenly find itself. But how to get out without causing mayhem?

  Two ideas formed in my mind. The first was to make a break for the wall of the spiral, to fly between the descending planes. The second was to go straight up, as high I could, up to where the spiral hadn't formed yet. Up there, I could peel off and away.

  If the Slingshot could still climb that high.

  The voice from AONS Accord Values spoke in my ear again.

  'Fugitive Burns,' she said. 'Unauthorized access to civilian airspace is a violation of the Accord military operating code. We have alerted the civilian aviation authorities and given them access to our radar. They can see you, fugitive Burns. It's all over. I have patched in Civilian Radio for them to guide you down to a disused landing area where you will surrender to AONT Hong Kong police.'

  Then the airport tower chimed in.

  'Lieutenant Burns,' said a male voice. 'This is air traffic controller Kan. You are to follow my instructions. Understood?'

  'Understood,' I said, 'but not accepted.'

  'There are over thirty aircraft surrounding you. They're carrying over fifty-thousand civilian passengers. You are endangering all of them. So, unless you want to be responsible for huge loss of life, including your own, listen to what I say. We'll get you down nice and safe. Remain at the altitude you are now, a thousand feet, no more, no less. Then, you are to...'

  'Sorry, Controller Kan,' I said. 'You don't control me.'

  'Lieutenant Burns,' he hit back. 'Military or even rogue military people do not take precedence over civilians. We're going to get you one way or the other.'

  I made my choice. I had been holding the Slingshot's joystick lightly inward to keep me circling inside the spiral of jets. Now, I centered it until I was heading north, towards the edge of the spiral.

  'Stop, Lieutenant,' said Controller Kan. 'Return to your previous altitude and path.'

  I ignored him and turned the knob on the joysticks top to increase airspeed. The Slingshot responded grudgingly with creaking and clattering.

  'Change course immediately, Lieutenant,' Controller Kan said again. 'You are heading directly into the descent path of civilian aircraft.'

  'No shit,' I said. 'Thanks for telling me the bleeding obvious.'

  The civilian aircraft he was talking about loomed into view, above and to the right, as large as a warehouse. It also appeared on my cockpit screen, a dark shape, uncomfortably close.

  'Pull out, Lieutenant,' said the air traffic guy. 'Stay within the stack, right now!' I wished I could find a way to switch him off.

  I passed over the CloudLiner's great hulk. It seemed like just a few feet, which had me immediately worried about being hit by the slanted blade of its tail, the part bearing the Accord flag. But it passed beneath me, and I was soon out of the spiral way out over the green sea again, free and clear, if only for a few seconds.

  I turned the aircraft east and headed towards the bristling skyscrapers of Hong Kong Island and to the squat, ancient robot shape of the HSBC building.

  From simulator training, I knew it had a wide flat top. Maybe I could land there and get into my J-Pack before the police showed up.

  'You have disobeyed civilian air controller instructions, Lieutenant,' said the voice from the AONS Accord Values, who had suddenly come back on air. 'That is a serious Navy Spirit Code violation.'

  Yep, I thought. Just keep adding them to the pile. You can read them out at my funeral when the Accord Of Nations becomes a province of the planet Rome.

  That was the moment, the thumping in the Slingshot engines changed from a clatter to a series of very loud bangs.

  48

  HEAVY RAIN HIT the Slingshot canopy and streamed backwards. Visual Flight Protocol was impossible, as the air traffic controller might have said. So I followed the image on the cockpit screen until I was above the HSBC building and descended onto the flat helipad.

  The rubber landing pads slid slightly onto the slick surface, then settled with a squelch. The Slingshot fuselage creaked as it adjusted to the new distribution of weight.

  Then all was silent except for the patter of rain on the canopy.

  I opened up and climbed out of the cockpit, then down the three steps to the helipad, where water streamed around my boots. I reached into the cockpit, and retrieved the J-Pack and slung it over my back. I kept my helmet on. Then strapped the J-Pack tight at my waist and chest. Next, I reached in and pulled the alien rifle from the bracket beside the pilot's seat.

  I was going to need it.

  I stepped down from the helipad onto the main area of the HSBC building roof. Here too, the roof was slick with rainwater. The rain was so heavy, it was like a veil over the entire city. Thunder rolled along the Kowloon hills. The great metropolis was under siege from the weather.

  I checked my watch. It was now 10:00a.m. The Establishment Day Ceremony would begin in an hour. The Roman visitors must be scheduled to show up soon. They might even have arrived already. Down below, by the harbor's edge, the Accord Flag hung limp in the downpour. Around it, grandstands and the podiums waited silently.

  Soon, the most powerful members of the Accord would assemble there to sing the Accord anthem, recite the Accord founders' pledge and to announce plans for the future. No doubt, they would also announce the great leap forward for tolerance and diversity created by the arrival the galactic visitors. Unity TV television coverage would be global.

  I had to think of a way to sabotage the ceremony and expose Octavia's plans.

  But first, I had to hide.

  I put the J-Pack over my back and pulled the straps tight. I kept the rifle in my left hand so that I could control the J-Pack with my right. Every Navy personnel member was required to be familiar with J-Pack use. I'd even completed extra courses in J-Pack tactics. Even so, controlling one in the rain would be difficult.

  While the pack idled on my back, I surveyed the scene. Where was the best place to hide? To my left and right, stood the skyscrapers of Central. Behind me, rose the hills of Hong Kong Island. In front of me, the Exhibition Centre on the harbor's edge. Beyond it, the grey surface Hong Kong harbor itself with ferries going back and forth through the rain. On the far side of the harbor, the skyscrapers of Kowloon.

  Kowloon. That seemed as good a place as any--at least for the moment.

  OK, J-Pack, time to go.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion behind me. The door to one of the roof access stairwells opened. Guys in black SWAT uniforms streamed out and squatted either side of the entrance, their guns raised. Their leader barked through a loud hailer.

  'Drop the weapon!' he yelled. 'Drop the weapon! Drop the weapon!' As if I couldn't hear already. Even the AONS Accord Values chimed in through my headset.

  'Lieutenant, Burns, drop your weapon and surrender to the police.'

  There was no way I was going to drop the weapon, let alone surrender to anybody. But what to do? The SWAT team had PQ47 rifles aimed at my chest.

  'Drop the weapon,' the guy said once more.

  Then nature came to my rescue.

  Out of nowhere, lightening and thunder struck together, directly over head. The whole cityscape was illuminated, as if someone in the sky had turned on a gazillion fluorescent lights. It was visually arresting and aurally stunning. When it was over, glass was raining down from shattered windows on the neighboring buildings, and car alarms were screaming from below.

  And I had dropped off the side of the building.

  I fired the J-Pack halfway down the building's side. The blast strained the shoulder straps, as they took my weight plus the extra force of the upthrust. I came to a halt in the air, then, shot out into the rain, above the shiny streets below.

  Seconds later, I was out over the harbor, passing above one of the ferries chugging through the deluge. Then I reached the harbor's edge on the Kowloon side, low over the buildings, but not so low as to attract any attention. At least, I hoped I wouldn't. I touched down onto the curved roof of the Hong Kong Science Museum. From there I had a good view of whatever might be coming for me from across the harbor.

  I brought the rifle up. Looked through its sights to scan the harbor, back towards the roof I'd just left. The Slingshot was surrounded by the civilian police in their SWAT gear. I could see them poking the Slingshot canopy. One had a radio to his ear. I guessed that meant I could soon expect a helicopter to come thumping my way.

  As I was thinking this, there was another commotion. This time on the far side of the Science Museum roof. Another door to another stairwell opening up. Out came a pistol muzzle, followed by a guy crouching down, SWAT style. Then three more men. Or women. Or the variations. They were all in uniform, so I couldn't tell what they were. They took up positions behind an air intake unit and leveled their weapons at me.

  Not again.

  'Drop your weapon!' one of them yelled through a loudspeaker. 'Get on the ground!' It was quite a demand to make, since by this time, I was behind a concrete wall with my own weapon leveled right back at them. 'Come out. Drop the weapon!' the guy shouted again.

  Sorry, pal.

  I quickly scanned the cluster of skyscrapers behind me.

  There was a tall building about five hundred yards away. A logo on its side said China Chem. If I could get to the other side of it and find a more secluded rooftop, I might be able to hide before they saw where I'd gone.

  As I was thinking this, a small drone appeared over the edge of the building, hovering in the rain. It bore a camera, and a light. Without hesitating, I swiveled the rifle, fixed the drone in the sights, and fired. The rifle bucked. The muzzle climbed. A pulse of energy shot out and hit the drone. And lit up the gloom.

  'Weapon discharged against Navy orders,' said the voice in my ear. 'Weapon discharged in civilian territory.'

  But once again, I was over the edge of the building.

  I fired the J-Pack. It shot me forty-five degrees upward, away from the Science Museum. Through the skyscrapers I went, past office windows where people sat at their desks, screens in front of them. One guy was leaning back talking to a headset as I went by. Then I was past the building and heading towards a roof which I hoped would be out of sight.

  I landed with a bit more elegance than my take off. A couple of steps and I was standing in the rain on a wet roof with a good view of Kowloon and plenty of air conditioner intakes for cover.

  There was also a good view across the harbor towards Central.

  I dropped behind one of the air-con intakes and, using the rifle, scanned the scene. Neighboring rooftops first. Looking for nosy security personnel. Looking for police SWAT teams. Civilians with binoculars. Anyone.

  I saw nothing but one or two security guards patrolling in the rain among the various pipes and other building top structures. Some had umbrellas; others wore ponchos, slick with water.

  So far so good.

  But that was when I saw her too, on a rooftop about fifteen hundred yards away, crouching down and scenting the air.

  It was Octavia.

  49

  AS IF THINGS couldn't get any worse.

  Was Octavia the creature attacking the Accord Values or wasn't she? And if the creature was her, how had she reached Hong Kong so quickly?

  The questions would have to wait because here she was yet again.

  This time she was dressed in the blue Navy uniform that her crew wore back on the Excidium. But Octavia's own version of the uniform was different. The crew member's uniforms had been loose fitting; this uniform was tight, figure-hugging and slick.

  It emphasized her tiny waist, her unusually long legs, her narrow waist. Wearing it, she was a fantasy character, as tall and sexual as the superheroes in the comic books banned by the Accord Purity of Information Department. A glorious sight. Without doubt, the only woman in the Accord to be so seductively dressed.

  But why dress in such an impractical way? Could it all be part of her twisted obsession?

  I watched Octavia sniff the air, her nose twitching like a rabbit's. The heavy rain streamed down her ponytail, which remained upright, as if made from materials other than human hair. She was a magnificent sight--so lithe and beautiful. So, desirable.

  So deadly.

  I looked down at her through the rifle's sights. Firing a monster was one thing. Firing at such a beautiful woman was another. Chen had managed it on the shuttle, but he fired in order to save me from strangulation.

  This was different.

  If I managed to kill Octavia--if that were even possible--would it mean the Romans would withdraw and take their ship away? Or would it simply mean that Captain Drusilla would assume command and complete the mission anyway? Or would I simply have no choice but to fire on her for my own survival?

  I slid my finger into the loop of the rifle's trigger guard and began my routine. I settled the sights on the side of Octavia's profile and began breathing slowly, calming my mind, slowing my heart and stilling the rifle's muzzle.

  But then Octavia ceased her sniffing, turned her head and looked directly down the scope and into my eye.

  If ever I was going to pull the trigger, it should be now.

  The small light on the rifle's side began to blink. Inside the rifle's magazine, the pulse gathered force, ready to shoot across the fifteen hundred yards between us.

  As if she knew what I was thinking, Octavia smiled a cold smile. Her teeth were inhumanly white, like a slice of fresh snow.

  She slowly brought one slender finger to her throat and slid it horizontally across her slender neck.

  It's time, Burns. Shoot her for goodness sake. Pull the trigger and shoot her! Shoot her now because there won't be a second chance.

  Do it.

  I took two more deep breaths, breathed out completely.

  Suddenly, a door opened behind Octavia--the door to the stairwell. A man in a gray uniform appeared--probably a security guard making his rounds, or responding to what he'd seen on the security camera. He called out to Octavia, and walked toward her.

  But I had already squeezed the trigger.

  I pulled the rifle away to the left, but it was too late. The light had stopped blinking. The rifle had fired its terrible blast.

  The gunstock slammed into my shoulder. The recoil lifted me up from the wet concrete and flung me backward like a tossed plank. I hit steel piping behind me.

  Then, I looked back to what damage the blast had caused.

  Fifteen hundred yards away, smoke rose from the rooftop. The energy pulse had slammed into an air conditioner outlet to the left of Octavia. Concrete dust plumed in the rain above.

  But Octavia, she was still there, a blue figure in the dust and the rain. The security guard was crouching by the stairwell exit. He had one hand shielding his eyes. Then, he got up and scrambled back through the stairwell door.

  Octavia stood her ground.

  Then, as if coming to a decision, she stepped slowly backward, step after step, like a high jumper preparing to address the bar. I could't believe what I was seeing. Was she was actually going to run to the building's edge and jump the fifteen hundred yards to reach me?

  Immediately, I got to my feet, picked up the rifle and ran to the far side of the building roof. I scanned for another skyscraper, preferably one of a similar height, but any skyscraper would do as long as it was in J-Pack range. The buildings left and right were all too tall. They also had pointed roofs, which were no good at all. But straight I found what I was looking for: a building of the same height with a flat roof and plenty of pipes and air-con intakes that could provide cover.

  That's where I would go.

  I re-slung the rifle and adjusted the J-Pack straps. Then, I dropped into a staggered stance and pressed the button on the J-Pack harness.

  And jumped.

  For a second I was up in the rain, motionless, stationary, as if I were weightless, like a cartoon character in the few seconds before he realizes gravity will have its way and pull him to the streets below.

 

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