Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(65)
“Everything moves through the undercity,” Beck said. “All these defenses are partly a distraction. That’s where we start.”
*
Bowers met with her at Movement headquarters, and Beck was intensely pleased by the flash of dumbfounded astonishment on his face before the old man pulled himself together. It had taken her a full week to put together the plan and execute it, though a hefty chunk of that was throwing together the device she used to make it work.
He picked up the object, which was about the size of a fist. “What is this thing?”
Beck paused in bringing up the data recorded from beneath the research facility and looked over. “Oh, it’s just a bunch of sensors I had brought here. Our Science division has a lot of extras left over for replacements.”
Bowers frowned. “Replacements for what?”
“The sensors in our armor,” Beck said, not understanding the confusion. “The ones in our helmets? Not just those, of course. The people over at Science have more than just them on hand. There are a couple stripped down versions of more complicated sensors in there, too. Mostly stuff to passively scan the parts of the electromagnetic spectrum our suits don’t measure. I had to make the whole thing passive. I couldn’t risk it being discovered by sending out a signal. Recovering it afterward was a pain in the ass.”
“Incredible,” Bowers said. “How did you manage to put this together?”
Beck’s eyebrows knitted. “I’ve been playing with machines, electronics, and code since I was little. I spent the last few years making sure my mining drones worked. It’s not that hard to solder together a sensor package from spare parts.”
Bowers gave her a wry smile. “Not hard for you, I’m sure. Show me what you have.”
Beck obliged, bringing up the recordings. The screen filled with movement along a track, but not a Loop. Those were hypersonic and not suited for the kinds of short-range deliveries needed as a middle step for larger distribution across the Protectorate. Instead the rhythmic thunk of train wheels filled the room along with a steady jostle of the camera. “I attached this thing to the top of the rail car. Figuring out what distribution centers send empties to the research station wasn’t that hard. That much is on the Mesh since Administration handles the logistics of shipping medicine.”
The rolling car slowed to a stop in front of a vast metal door. Rotating lights flared to life as its ID beacon was scanned and verified, then the thick metal gate rumbled open. The car moved again, this time only a few dozen yards before locking into place in front of a loading bay. The shot, taken from atop the car, showed a mostly empty space. She had sent the device in at night when manpower was at its lowest point. Beck flipped the view through every part of the spectrum she had been able to cover. “You’ll note that the sensors pick up no security systems beyond the usual cameras. The warehouse these trains are loaded from fills the entire space below the building and more, but is only staffed by a handful of people. From what I’ve been able to dig up on the Mesh about shipments sent out at night, they reserve this shift for smaller specialty orders that require more time and effort to put together. The other shifts do bulk shipments.”
Bowers nodded. “I trust your research skills, but why does that matter?”
Beck smiled. “Because human nature takes over. I’ve watched this video a dozen times, and those more complicated orders with multiple parts means the workers know they can take their sweet time. Watch.”
She zoomed in on a narrow slice of the warehouse that could be seen from the dock. It showed a pair of workers moving rapidly to assemble the shipment. Then they checked their tablets, presumably for the time, before slinking off to a door at the end of the space. Beck increased the playback speed considerably, the time stamp racing by.
“They’re in there for more than an hour. Never even bother looking out until it’s time to fill the car and call in the next one. Then they repeat the process, rushing to assemble the shipment so they can slack off for a while,” Beck explained. “What I need your approval for is using one of these cars to gain entry.”
Bowers was an intelligent man. He surely saw the dangers, but Beck was equally sure he wanted to know if she did. “Walk me through it.”
“I travel inside a train car, in my armor,” Beck said, eager to finally lay it all out. “I’ll attach the sensor to the top and link to it with a hard line to prevent any potential detection of a wireless signal on my way in. Once it’s clear, I’ll make my way through the warehouse and into the more sensitive areas where I can access the network. Once I’m done, assuming I don’t die, I’ll hide in the car again and get out at whatever distribution hub it ends up in.”
“How will you avoid the cameras?” Bowers asked.
Beck shrugged. “I won’t. I’m assuming they’re like any Rez surveillance system in that they’re automated. Used to record in case something happens and a live person needs to look back over them. Disabling them before I get in would probably set off a lock down. But I don’t think they’re keyed to react to a person moving. Unless there is a live set of eyes watching them, I should be fine. It’s a risk. I know that. It’s just one we’ll have to take.”
“It sounds like this plan has a high likelihood of going badly for you,” Bowers noted.