Saul made his way towards an elevator set into a recess beneath a plaque reading ‘ARRAY SECURITY AND IMMIGRATION’. His shoes squeaked slightly on the polished floor of the silent concourse, sounding unnaturally loud to his ears.

Something suddenly clattered to the ground at an indeterminate distance away. Glancing immediately towards the row of Black Dogs, Saul noticed that the same one that had tracked him earlier was now turning to face the other way, as if something on the far side of the recreation area had drawn its attention meanwhile.

Something, or someone?

It had to be Mitchell. He was obviously hiding somewhere close, and Saul wondered what he was waiting for. He took a firmer grip on the Cobra, ignoring the rapid tattoo that his heart was beating against the inside of his chest, and tapped on the weapon’s screen so that it integrated with his contacts. Targeting information instantly superimposed itself over everything he saw.

He scurried towards the elevators, crouching low, passed through a cordon that would normally be manned. Recognizing his UP, one of the elevators opened at his approach. Saul stepped inside, pressing his back against the interior wall, while aiming the Cobra back in the direction he had come.

Just before the doors closed, he caught sight of movement somewhere by the fountain. Mitchell, he decided: it couldn’t possibly be anyone else.

THIRTY

Lunar Array, 11 February 2235

Saul logged into the Array’s localized security network. As he stepped into the lobby of the operations room, he saw personal belongings scattered on desks and jackets hooked over the backs of chairs, as if the staff here had simply got up in the middle of their work and departed en masse. Perhaps, he thought, that was exactly what they had done, and he wondered just how much warning they’d received. If that was the case, had they chosen to flee, or simply gone back home to be with their loved ones?

He slung the Cobra back over his shoulder, its targeting data fading the moment his fingers released the barrel. Moving on quickly, past the empty desks and workstations, he began activating the code given him by Hanover. A further layer of information appeared on top of his usual UP overlay, guiding him towards the single elevator that serviced the executive suites assigned to the members of the ASI’s directorate. It carried him yet further below the lunar surface, depositing him in a carpeted corridor, where he headed past conference rooms and numerous locked doors until he was guided to the suite of offices belonging to Thomas Fowler, the Director of the ASI himself.

The door was locked, and there didn’t appear to be an option in the EDP overlay that would allow him to bypass it. He swore softly under his breath, then unslung the Cobra and fired a short burst directly into the door. It swung inwards as if it had been kicked.