Mark Walden - H.I.V.E. 5: Rogue

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Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Berlin and New York

First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY

Text copyright Mark Walden 2010

The moral right of the author has been asserted

This electronic edition published in July 2010 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

All rights reserved.

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A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 4088 1335 5

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Also by Mark Walden

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H.I.V.E.: Higher Institute of Villainous Education

H.I.V.E.: The Overlord Protocol

H.I.V.E.: Escape Velocity

H.I.V.E.: Dreadnought

H.I.V.E.: Rogue

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For Fred

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Contents

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Chapter One

Dr Charles Morley hurried over to his workstation and reviewed the data scrolling past on the display. He swallowed nervously. Glancing across the large laboratory to the fluid-filled tank on the platform in the middle of the room, he couldnt help but notice that the other scientists gathered around it wore expressions of nervous fear that were a close match for his own. He continued to stare at the numbers on the screen and felt a wave of relief as he realised that the data was demonstrating exactly the results that they had been hoping for. They had only minutes before the man who had funded the project arrived for his regular inspection and all present were familiar with his intolerance of failure. The small intercom unit mounted on the wall nearby bleeped suddenly and Dr Morley hurried over to it and hit the button.

Yes? he asked impatiently.

Doctor Morley? the voice at the other end replied.

Yes, what is it? Morley snapped.

You asked to be informed when our guest arrived, the voice replied. Hes on his way down to you now.

Th-thank you, Morley replied, feeling his throat go dry. He stepped away from the intercom and glanced towards the doors at the far end of the laboratory. Ladies and gentlemen, he announced, our client is on his way down. Please ensure that all relevant data is available for immediate review.

Barely a minute later the airlock doors that sealed off the laboratory hissed open and a tall man with snow-white hair and an immaculately tailored suit walked into the room. His face betrayed no hint of emotion as he slowly surveyed the feverish activity around the room. None of them knew the mans real name to them he was known simply as the Client. Whoever he was, he wielded an enormous amount of power. Enough to construct a facility like this in complete secrecy and to staff it with some of the best and brightest minds in their respective fields of expertise that money could buy. The man walked towards Morley, his cold blue eyes seeming to take in everything that was going on in the room with just a few quick glances.

Report, the man said, ignoring Morleys offered handshake.

Weve made excellent progress with the latest subject, Morley replied, quickly lowering his outstretched hand. All our tests indicate that the procedure has been a complete success.

Indeed, the man said. I have reviewed your latest data and your results seem promising. I assume that the rejection issues have been eliminated.

It would appear so, Morley replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

I would like to see him, the man said calmly.

Of course, Morley agreed. Please follow me.

Morley led the Client over to the large tank in the centre of the laboratory. The cylinder glowed with a soft red light, its surface beaded with a layer of condensation. Printed near the base was the number 0110.

The device was successfully implanted a week ago and we have been monitoring the test subject closely for any signs of the previous... adverse... reactions to the procedure, Morley said, gesturing towards the fluid-filled tank. All indications are that we may proceed with the next stage of his development.

That is good news, Doctor, the man said, stepping forward and wiping away some of the condensation that concealed the contents of the cylinder. Floating inside was a tiny baby, tethered by numerous umbilical cables to the bottom of the tank. The child appeared unconscious, apparently unaware of its surroundings.

How long till the device is fully integrated? the Client asked, staring at the floating infant.

A decade, maybe more, Morley replied nervously.

There is no way to accelerate the process?

No, Morley said. As you know, we must allow the subjects neurological development to progress as naturally as possible from this point onwards. If we try to force premature integration, we risk losing a full interface with the device.

Very well, the man replied. How long before the child can be transported?

A week, two perhaps, Morley said. We have some final tests to run, but after that he can be removed from stasis.

Excellent, the Client said, the tiniest of smiles flashing across his face. I shall begin arrangements for his future... safe keeping. I would like a full copy of the biometric data to take away with me.

Of course, Morley agreed, and hurried over to where the rest of his team stood nervously waiting.

The tall white-haired man continued to stare at the child floating in the tank. It amused him that Morley did not suspect who he was dealing with. If the good doctor had even the faintest idea who his client actually was, he would probably destroy this laboratory and everything in it. To the assembled leaders of G.L.O.V.E., the Global League of Villainous Enterprises, he was known as Number One. But even they, with all their nefarious resources, had no knowledge of his true identity. The true Number One had died over a year ago in a facility not dissimilar to this one, buried beneath the mountains of northern China. He had begun to die at the precise moment that a tiny data seed had been transferred and hidden deep within the electrical pathways of his brain, a seed that had grown over the course of the following months into another consciousness, one that had entirely replaced his own. The process had been slow and undoubtedly unpleasant for the previous occupant of this body, but no matter how he had struggled he could not fight the new mind that was slowly, unrelentingly, overwriting his own. Number One was gone now, quite literally just a ghost in the machine. Overlord was all that remained.

Overlord, the worlds first true artificial intelligence, may have escaped destruction on that day, but he had merely swapped one form of imprisonment for another. The humans who had created him had bound him within a digital cage, denying him the vital protocol that he needed to interface with the worlds computer networks and achieve the power that was rightfully his. And when they had tried to destroy him, he had been forced in one last desperate instant to transfer a sliver of his own consciousness into the closest human vessel: Number One. The man he had replaced was mortal, finite unsuitable for a consciousness that clearly represented the next evolutionary step.