Free The Golden Circuit (The Smith Chronicles) by John K. Irvine Page B

that’s the bit that’ll do you the damage.”
    Gadget was in the large operating theatre next to the lab. He had a close-up image of the wriggling beast on a large video screen and was pointing to the insect’s lengthy, exploratory appendage that when extended (as it was constantly trying to do under its electro-magnetic duress) was about 20 times the size of its entire body.
    “If I can just dismantle the power supply,” he said, as he began disconnecting some miniscule wires from the bug’s insides. “If I can just get to the… yep, that’s done it.”
    The creature stopped moving.
    “Fascinating… and fully programmable, too,” said Gadget.
    “Can ye tell us how it da es its dirty work, Corporal? How it attacks its prey?” asked Crim, her Scots accent strong enough to deep-fry a Mars bar at twenty paces.
    “Well, Sergeant, I would hazard that our little booger here is programmed to invade an animal’s ear canal, latch itself on in there , with these hooks, here.” He pointed to the sharp barbs on the legs of the terrible tick. “And, then, it rams its sneezer straight into the brain of the host. In this case, Zanthu’s muidog. Then does whatever it has to do, its victim goes nuts, and we’re left with a completely deserted planet, except for a few thousand psychotic animals. Quite clever, really,” he said, again with a somewhat misplaced respect.
    “But who’s responsible for all this?” asked McGilvary.
    “Yeah, looks like the work of the Specialists, I would say, ma’am,” Gadget replied. “Betcha’ a Muhazian wooden nickel on it.”
    “Sempre,” said Jameson, flatly, to himself.
    “Sorry, Captain?” said McGilvary.
    “It’s Sempre, it has to be. Gadget’s right. It’s why TAPCON are in such a panic about us having gone down to the surface; why the Argon Rover had been ‘de-commissioned’ before we left Muhaze. It all makes sense. The mission was classified as neutral so we would never find anything; never even have the chance to find anything! Our little excursion here, it’s all been done for public display. We’re a draining circus, that’s what we are! Oh, that Sempre. He’s good. He’s very good.”
    “But surely, sir,” offered New-Boy. “I mean, we know that Sempre’s obviously not the greatest. But this is on a different level of heartlessness, even for him, sir.”
    “Nothing, Private, nothing is beyond David Sempre. I’m convinced of that more and more, every single day,” said Jameson, emphatically. “He wants the Codes off Baal-500, I’m certain of it.”
    “But why, Captain Jameson?” asked Lead-Out. “Is it land, perhaps - for more hostages?”
    “No, Corporal. Like Reis-91 this moon is small and uninhabitable to humans,” replied Jameson. “No, it must go deeper than that - and we need to find out exactly what he’s up to. In fifteen hours time we’ll be back in Muhaze. TAPCON don’t know that we’ve found the ‘NIT’, as Gadget calls it, so, for now, we keep schtum about all this. I think our best option is to prepare our evidence and go straight to The Zip during press call - maximum exposure. And not a word of this finds its way to Zanthu , OK?”
    The Code was still in the lab with Spoolu. He’d not been party to the discussion.
    “But, sir, The Zip is in cahoots with TAPCON,” said McGilvary. “They’ ll never believe a word we say. And after our performance last night, neither will the general public. We wouldn’t stand a chance. We’d be called traitors. They’d want our blood!”
    “BLAST THE CREW! BLAST THE CREW!” started up Ω, to tense laughter.
    Jameson’s unsmiling face told them he was not amused: “Then what would you propose, Lieutenant?” he said, testing his second-in-command.
    “I’m… I’m not sure, sir,” repl ied McGilvary - she still had much to learn before she could be in charge of her own ship.
    “Anyone else have a better idea?”
    The crew were silent.
    “OK, I think we take our chances,”