Shadowstrike

Prologue Prologue They had Murdoch in quarantine, because doing otherwise would break the cover story. And so he endured the small room, with the hard mattress, the uncomfortable plastic chair and the stained side-table. He resigned himself to the merely functional shower, the bland food and the harsh lighting. They asked him questions, and they had him complete reports. He watched footage, from Haven and from the Hermes. He observed the escape, and he studied the manner of Daman Myron’s death. They told him to focus on Ryann Harris, and he grew to admire how she rallied others to her, and how she juggled her empathy for others with her desire to escape. And even though her actions angered him, he had to admit that she was incredibly strong and‌…‌intriguing. On his second day in this fake quarantine, he received a message‌—‌text, rather than words passed into his lattice‌—‌that suggested he study recent developments in the project. He accessed the system, relieved that his security clearance still worked, and was astonished with the progress made. It appeared that, while he had been on Haven, the technical crew had used data from the infected to fine-tune a new virus, based on the old one but without its limitations. Already, preparations were in hand to introduce the new strain, and expectations were high. On the third day, the old man buzzed himself into the room, and Murdoch rose to greet his boss. The old man waved a hand nonchalantly, and told Murdoch to sit. “The medics report that you are free of infection,” he said, and it was impossible to tell from his steady tone if he was making a joke. “That is good to hear.” Murdoch asked no questions. The old man would tell him whatever Murdoch needed to hear. “And so I suggest you resume duties as soon as possible, yes?” When Murdoch gave a sharp, controlled nod, the old man continued. “I’d like you to lead on the next stage of the project.” Murdoch’s surprise must have shown, because the old man smiled and nodded‌—‌rare moments of humanity. “Not what you were expecting, correct? After Haven, I am sure you imagined some form of punishment. But I have analysed all the reports, and while your mistakes are apparent, overall your performance was pleasing. And, of course, your familiarity on a more personal level with the original subjects is a factor that weighed heavily in your advantage. That, and the belief I have that you will be very wary of Ryann Harris.” “Yes, sir.” Then Murdoch waited, knowing the old man had more to say. “Your briefing will be sent to you, usual protocol.” “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” The old man smiled. “I know,” he said as he turned and left the room. Murdoch allowed himself a moment to breathe. Then he pulled up data and started to plan.