The only confirmation they had that the weapon was on board had come from the elder gods. They had no physical proof to offer Hurley, or even his own former superiors at ODNI.
Shadow Mountain had undertaken this mission on faith alone. On the hope that Aiden had connected with Benioko’s spiritin his dreams and that their formerTaounahahad stepped in to guide them. But there was no proof the information passed through Aiden was true. They had nothing concrete to pass onto SOCOM or ODNI to convince them to act. While Wolf’s warriors trusted the elder gods, and the intel’s source, nobody else would.
Plus, their mission plan had gone to hell. They’d expected to infiltrate the ship, secure the weapon, and escape back to the Zodiac. They hadn’t expected to sink the ship while there were still living on board.
They’d known, of course, that there was a chance the weapon had leaked on board. But in that case, they’d expected the infected to kill each other. They even had a contingency plan for that scenario. Wolf had fitted the Chinook with a pair of AShM ballistic missiles. It had been a bitch balancing the missile armaments with the ability to flood the cargo bay and launch the Zodiac. But Shadow Mountain’s engineers were ingenious, and the Chinook had taken to the sky with both missiles on board, and the ability to flood the hold intact.
They could drop the Harbinger to the sea floor. They just hadn’t expected its crew to be alive when they did so.
Aiden turned and stared directly at O’Neill. “What do you think we should do with the ship?”
O’Neill tuned back in to the conversation to find everyone’s eyes—including Wolf’s—locked on him. He knew from eavesdropping on theNeealahothat all Shadow Mountain warriors unanimously agreed with sinking the Harbinger.
But then they were fully aware of where the information pertaining to thisaggresshad come from. They trusted where the mouthpiece led. They were also aware of the Shadow Warrior’s apocalyptic prophecy. And they were dedicated to making sure the peoples ofHokalitasurvived. They knew if the ship was boarded, by anyone, the infection would spread, and theWanatesawould come true.
“Me?” O’Neill hedged.
While he’d listened to the discussion throughNeealaho,as well as the one raging around him, he hadn’t planned to express his opinion. Unless, it was meant to needle or obstruct, he never shared his opinion…at least not his true opinion. One of the benefits of beingjie'van.
“Yes,” Wolf suddenly broke in. “What say you?”
Everyone stared at him, awaiting a response. Fuck, being on the inside was a pain in the ass. But he did have something to say…something no one else had considered…something that needed to be said.
“I don’t think we have a choice. We can’t afford to let anyone board that vessel. We know something is happening over there, and it’s a safe bet it’s bot related, which means it’s infectious. We can’t let it get out. Period. If it escapes the Harbinger, we’re looking at billions of deaths. The loss of a couple dozen innocent lives verses billions is preferrable. Nor will anything Faith creates to cloak the vessel help. Not without the ability to anchor it. There’s too great a chance it will drift ashore.”
Faith’s shield had been discussed prior to leaving Shadow Mountain, but she didn’t have one capable of stretching across ocean water. The salt molecules in sea water fucked with her prototype. Not that it mattered now. They couldn’t use her shield technology anyway.
“A long-winded vote to sink it.” Mackenzie pounced, looking satisfied. The satisfaction quickly shifted to annoyance, as though he didn’t want to be on the same side as O’Neill.
“It has to go down,” O’Neill agreed. He had no doubt about that. “The needs of the many—”
“Outweigh—” Cosky jumped in.
“The needs of the few.” Capland’s head popped from where he was hunched over his laptop in one of the chairs behind them.
“Fuck, they’re quoting Spock now.” Mackenzie sounded disgusted.
Rawlings scoffed. “I’d like to point out you knew immediately where the quote came from.”
“Only because it’s a cliché,” Mackenzie shot back.
“There is one thing we haven’t considered.” O’Neill ignored the byplay. “We don’t know whether sinking the ship will keep the bots from infecting more people.”
“Sure, we do,” Mackenzie drawled. “They’ll be dead. At the bottom of the ocean. In itty bitty pieces.”
Aiden picked up O’Neill’s meaning immediately. “Judging by my old teammates who are…existing in an atmosphere with no oxygen, sending the Harbinger’s crew to the bottom of the ocean won’t ensure they can’t move around, wiggle their way to shore. If they don’t need oxygen to exist, it won’t matter how long it takes them to reach shore.”
Wolf frowned. “This is true.”
“They wouldn’t make it intact to shore,” Cosky pointed out. “Soon as they hit the bottom of the ocean, they’ll become a buffet for marine life. There won’t be anything left of them.”
“True.” O’Neill had already thought of that, but it brought no comfort—only deepening terror. “And what becomes of the bots then? Do they become part of the food chain?”
“Fuck.” Rawlings breathed. “If that’s the case, when the infected fish are eaten by people, the people could become infected too.”
“If you’re right,” Cosky’s face turned white, “we could be unleashing a mass contamination down the road.”
It was too bad they didn’t have a solid connection to the Shadow Warrior, outside of Aiden’s dreams. They needed guidance.
