Sorrow Space by James Axler Read Free Book Online

here and have Reba do an analysis of whatever is left of that woman. Mr. Farrell, I also want a full analysis of the mat-trans algorithms before and during the rogue delivery.”
    Farrell assented and turned back to his terminal, pulling up the relevant data for analysis.
    “Mr. Philboyd,” Lakesh continued, “run through the current functionality. Full system check.”
    Hunched at another of the terminals, Brewster Philboyd, a lanky figure with dark-framed glasses, receding blond hair and pockmarked cheeks, nodded his acknowledgment of the request, his fingers already playing across his computer keyboard.
    “Donald?” Lakesh continued.
    From close by, Donald Bry—Lakesh’s right-hand man—came marching over with a half-full cup of coffee in his hand. He wore a fretful expression beneath unruly copper curls of hair, and his brow was creased with concern. Coffee stained the front of his tunic, evidence that the sudden appearance of the mat-trans traveler had surprised him. “Yes, Lakesh.”
    “Organize a team to do a complete check of the mat-trans network. Find out if this has been happening elsewhere,” Lakesh instructed. “We may just be one of numerous mat-trans facilities that have witnessed this phenomenon.”
    A computer expert by training, Bry inclined his head in agreement before scurrying off to select his research team.
    “As for the rest of you,” Lakesh said, raising his voice to be heard. “Get back to work. We have a field team out there right now, and they need our support.”
    Beth Delaney, the blonde comms op, called to Lakesh from the communications hub. She wore a commset hooked over one ear, its pickup microphone jutting out on a thin wire just beyond the extent of her jaw. The flesh around her jaw was puffy where a wound was still healing. Her jaw had been broken a couple of months ago during a brutal invasion of the Cerberus redoubt. “Shouldn’t we warn CAT Alpha?” she asked. “They intend to return via mat-trans at some point today.”
    Lakesh considered this for a moment. Kane’s team—CAT Alpha—had accessed the mat-trans to reach their current destination, where they were investigating a conspiracy to supply arms. “For now we must maintain radio silence,” Lakesh decided. “To tip their hand too soon, to alert their foes to our presence, could prove even more dangerous for them than whatever has happened here.”
    Beth nodded, returning to her monitoring of the communications network.
    * * *
    K ANE KEPT PACE AS Jerod Pellerito led the way, walking beside him as they made their way along the metal walkway that arched over the factory floor. Brigid and Grant followed, surreptitiously observing everything that was proceeding in the factory while Robert Buchs kept a rear guard with two of the security officers, bounding along on his scythelike leg extensions, the guards exuding bored efficiency.
    “Makes sense you getting into the weapons game,” Pellerito opined as they strolled along the catwalk. “Ex-Magistrate like you knows his firepower.”
    Kane gave a cruel smile. “Formally trained,” he said. “Had to put it to some use when I got out of the system.”
    “So how did that come about, again?” Pellerito asked. “You were a pretty fearsome bastard when I met you.”
    “Just a disagreement,” Kane said dismissively. “Personal stuff.”
    In less than a minute, Pellerito had led the group the full length of the catwalk to the far side of the factory. From up here they could see the conveyor belts churning, transporting glinting shafts of metal along their trundling lengths, the familiar burn of acetylene torches illuminating the factory floor in lightning splashes, grinding wheels spinning and howling as workers smoothed the rough edges off their wares. Beyond the buzz of workers, one area had been effectively fenced off by curtain-draped scaffolding. Beyond it, a single large operation was in progress with several whitecoats moving back and forth to examine