by Hodden, TE
“You are our best, only, hope Cathy! Push on!”
“Hold on tight!” Osprey warned. “This is going to get interesting!”
Cathy pushed Melisa into a seat, before she strapped herself in. She gripped her seat tightly, as they flew into the chaos of the battle.
10011
Allistaire stood watching the world fall apart on the screens in the bunker.
There were battleships over every continent, over the major cities, each supported by gunboats and fighters, repelling the full weight of the air force, of missiles, of any and every weapon that could be turned against them.
He watched battleships being reduced to molten slag, and cities flattened into rubble and ashes. He heard the screams of Captain Lionheart, as the Nomad, and her support fleet, were consumed by lances of white energy.
He gave up play acting shock and horror. He glowered at the screens, his fists curled, begging for his Master to provide the miracle.
Patience, Misrule whispered in his thoughts, through the network. All the pieces must be brought into play.
10100
Melisa fought against her nausea, and struggled not to throw up.
The teleportation platform had sent them back to Earth at the last second, that had tied her stomach in knots for every reason. Every moment since then had been a rollercoaster ride through the bombardment of, and battle for, San Francisco. A battle for which she was just a passenger, unable to offer any help, as Barney made the Manta dance.
The Manta rolled through the air, swooping low, close to the streets, then climbing suddenly and sharply up.
“This is it!” Osprey said. “Weapons port! Dead ahead! Matthew! Now or never, man!”
There was a flash of light by the window, that resolved itself into Matthew, resplendent in his Praetorian garb. He flew into the gun port, smashing the ray-projector that blocked the way, and spinning into the swarm of spider-drones, like a whirlwind, reducing them to scrap.
The Manta flew into the port, the tips of the wings grinding against the edges of the gun bay, spraying sparks from the wounds it carved into the bulkhead.
The jet lurched to a stop.
Melisa let out a breath, she didn’t know she was holding.
“Ready?” Catherine asked.
Melisa nodded.
The crew hurried out of the jet, and into the body of the spaceship.
The interior of the spaceship was everything that Melisa hoped space travel would not be: rusty, grimy, and industrial, with pipes that vented sheets of acrid coolant into the air.
She could feel the presence of the Legion all around her, in every nut and bolt, every circuit and sensor, of the ship, but she could feel the source of that presence burning like a sun.
Catherine placed a hand on her shoulder. “Where is it?”
Melisa pointed. “That way!”
Barney rolled his shoulders and configured his armour, into a walking fortress of armour plate, and heavy artillery. Mathew’s aura blazed brightly around him. Summers wrapped herself in her ceremonial armour with a thought. Catherine wrapped herself in the warp. Angel’s gemstone glowed brightly.
Melisa straightened her jacket. “Okay. I feel under dressed.”
Catherine grinned, and took her hand. The warp shrouded them both, and Mel felt the giddy surge of excitement, as they ventured on through the ship.
Something moved behind them. A robotic form peeled itself out of the cables and pipes of the ceiling, and dropped to the floor. It had a skeleton like torso, and skull like head, that jutted centaur like from a spider-like thorax and spindly legs.
“Anti-bodies,” Angel said, “protecting the ship.” She touched her hood.
The spider-thing opened its maw, to belch sun-fire at them. The beam met Angel’s force-projection, and was thrown back at the spider. She smashed the robot against the bulkhead, its armour plates and internal mechanisms buckling and distorting. It went limp, and dropped to the floor, dead.
Countless more began to emerge from the walls and ceiling.
Matthew and Barney shared a look.
Matthew nodded. “Clear a path! Angel cover Summers until she can run her game plan. Cathy and Mel stay ready to go long!”
Catherine’s fingers closed tighter against Melisa’s and they fell further into the warp. Time distorted and slowed. Melisa’s heart grew lighter, and there was a pickle of excitement that overwhelmed her fears.
In the treacle thick time, Melisa could see everything that was happening. The Antibodies belched plasma, like dragons breathing fire. Matthew’s aura lashed out, and pinned some to the bulkhead. Barney unleashed a rapid barrage of many kinds of weapons, plasma bolts, missiles, and gravity waves, driving the antibodies to cover.
Angel and Summers pushed on. As more of the robots poured into the corridors, Angel blasted them back, smashing them to pieces with her projections.
Catherine and Mel followed. Mel wanted to zoom off, to let the Warp carry her, but Catherine held her back. “Fight the urge! We have to wait our moment!”
The few minutes it took to reach the control node were agonisingly long, and slow. The tides of the warp offered to carry them on, and Melisa knew she could be in the Avatar’s lair in less than a second, if she let the warp carry her.
The node was a spherical machine, with countless facets and rings, constantly twisting and rotating, overlapping and rolling against each other.
Summers drove her staff into the node, and ground it to a halt. She braced herself against the staff.
The Antibodies halted their attack. Slowly they turned and lumbered towards the Lair.
“I have control of this node,” Summers reported. “I don’t know how long I can hold it.”
“Go!” Matthew barked.
Catherine ran, dragging Melisa with her. They flashed through the corridors, past the Antibodies attacking those still under Legion’s control, or ripping apart the ship’s other defences.
They burst into the lair, a pyramid shaped room, the size of a house. The Avatar was suspended at the top, amongst a solar system of nodes, that rolled and spun about him.
“Those,” Melisa said, “must be connections to the fleet.”
“And the link to the Legion’s core?” Catherine demanded. “Oh… I see…”
The Avatar looked down at them. “This Avatar is the link. And you… You will die in vain for… whatever few moments you think you can bu¬”
Mathew exploded from an air vent in the ceiling, and tackled the Avatar, driving the giant, skeletal robot down to the floor and pummelling it against the deck, with all the force his aura could muster. “You,” he roared, “talk far too much!”
Catherine shoved Melisa from the warp.
Melisa skidded across the floor, time snapping back to speed, as Catherine flashed forwards and smacked Avatar with a freight train of displacement.
Orson, Summers, and Angel rushed through the door, circling the Avatar.
“Don’t give it time to fight!” Matthew shouted. “Concentrate everything we have on the Avatar and¬” He was cut short as the Avatar held out a hand, and fired a white ray. It scorched his armour, and sent him rolling across the floor.
Angel answered it with a blast of force projection, and Barney opened fire, the weapons on his arms changing every few seconds, faster than the Avatar could react or try to anticipate.
Melisa ran to Matthew.
He was laying awkwardly, gasping for breath.
“Hey!” She said. “Matthew! Praetorian!”
He shook his head, and groaned.
Melisa added a parade ground snap to her voice. “Front and centre soldier!”
“Did anybody get the licence plate of that planet?” He muttered groggily.
Summers lunged at the Avatar, thrusting her staff at its chest. It howled in pain, and swatted her away. She landed in a crouch and ran at it again. This time she drove the staff into his chest, and held it there.
“Now!” Melisa shouted. “Now is
your window!”
The Avatar opened its maw, and unleashed the white ray at Summers, but the way hit an invisible barrier, as Angel’s force projection held it at bay. She braced herself behind the projection, fighting to hold her ground.
“Right!” Matthew said, taking to the air, and wrapping his aura about the Avatar’s arms, keeping them from striking Summers. “Barney! Now!”
Barney’s arms reconfigured to the white-ray cannon. The air crackled as the ray blasted the Avatar in the head.
Catherine ran at the Avatar, and burst from the warp, using the displacement to punch the spear deep into the Avatar’s chest. “Mel!”
Melisa swallowed back all her terrible fears and ran into the fray. She grabbed the spear. She reached into it, with her mind.
She reached into an alien mind, a nebula of pure thought, as old as the stars, and as vast as the universe. A mind that was spread over so many bodies, over such vast swathes of time and space, that the threads of its awareness were as numerous as flakes of snow, caught in a blizzard.
“YOU!” The Legion boomed, around her. “HOW DARE YOU COME HERE!”
“You,” Melisa shouted, “came to Earth. If you want me gone, leave in peace.”
The mind shook with laughter. “YOU THREATEN ME? MY PEOPLE CREATED THIS UNIVERSE, THIS PLANE OF THE INFINITE REALMS. YOUR LIVES ARE AN INFECTION. I AM CLAIMING ONLT WHAT IS MINE. AND YOU…” The mind closed in around her, studying her. “YOU ARE A MERE MORTAL.”
Melisa snorted. “Yeah? Well… there is nothing mere about this mortal!”
“I WILL SMITE YOU!” The Legion roared.
Good! Melisa withdrew, diving back through the spear. The Legion’s fury followed her, determined to crush her mind to dust.
As Melisa withdrew, she felt the power of the warp, and the displacement wave building around her. She grabbed the connection to the fleet, and channelled it into the spear.
Too late the Legion realised what was about to happen, and tried to pull away. Far too late. The displacement released, amplifying the signal, the force of anger, and hatred, the determination to smite, and overloaded the system.
Melisa let go of the spear as the overload hit.
The nodules exploded, spraying sparks and smoke across the lair. The Avatar fell to its knees, screeching like feedback, and belching smoke from between its armour plates.
Melisa staggered away. Catherine caught her, in a protective hug.
“Is…” Barney looked around. “Is that it?”
The Avatar laughed, and rose to its feet. “You broke my connection to my fleet. That is more than anybody else has managed in… centuries. But I am not dead, and I am not gone, and I will make many more ships, to burn the stain of life from this world, just as soon as¬”
Catherine drove her spear into his head. “I hate when they monologue.”
The Avatar tore the spear from his head, and kicked Catherine across the room.
Antibodies swarmed into the room, their white rays blazing.
Catherine called the spear to her fingertips, and flashed across the room, shoving Melisa away from the spider-bots, and into cover behind a wrecked node.
Mathew, Barney, Angel and Summers spun into battle, fighting back at the Avatar and the Antibodies, in a complex dance of combat. Catherine joined them.
“Keep the pressure on!” Catherine shouted. “Drive them home!”
A hand lay on Melisa’s shoulder.
The thrill of Charlie’s presence buzzed in her heart. But there was… pain… and sadness… She turned and found herself staring at a ghost, insubstantial and translucent, out of focus from reality. His ghostly fingers brushed her cheek.
“Charlie?”
Sorry, his voice whispered in her head. Sorry. I can’t stop them. Scimitar is theirs now. You have to get out. They’re… they’re making me do it, and I can’t…
“The… fire?” Melisa whispered. “They’re unleashing the fire?”
Get out! Charlie begged. Please. Get out. I… I…”
“I love you too,” Melisa croaked. She rose to her feet. “Cathy! We need to get out of here now! Fire in the hole!”
The Avatar rounded on Melisa claws raised.
Catherine knocked it aside, and drove her spear through its chest, and into the wall, pinning the Avatar there. She twisted it, to lodge the spear firmly in place. “Sorry old friend, looks like this is where we say goodbye.” She raised her head. “Honour Guard! You heard her! We have to get out of here!”
10101
Charlie ran across the rooftop. “Wormwood!” He shouted, at the top of his voice. “Stop this!”
Wormwood stared past him and smiled, at something, or somebody, behind Charlie.
There was thud of impact as a crossbow bolt hit Charlie in the small of his back, and an agony of lightning. Every muscled in his body tightened, grinding against his bones in agony, as he jolted and spasmed, his breath catching, his jaw locking, and pain piercing his skull behind his eyes.
He dropped to his knees.
What had Harris done?
In the corner of his eye, Harper was slain in a heartbeat, a bolt to the head, and Flintlock was leaping for her life.
The thing in Elois’s body stepped over to Charlie, brandishing a Flux-Fork. She smiled.
“Elois!” Charlie said. “Elois May Croft. You are still in there. You can fight this. Don’t… Don’t do this. Please.”
“She’s in here,” the thing whispered. “She can hear you.” She smiled. “Sorry. You won’t save her.”
“Memory,” Charlie said. “She will fight you.”
“Echo!” Elois corrected him. “And she always fights.” She touched the fork to Charlie’s chest.
Waves of pain crashed down upon him, stealing his strength, and grinding him into the rooftop, phasing away his armour.
“And,” Echo purred, “she always loses.”
She touched the fork to Charlie again, and this time and this time the pain that radiated through his body cracked his bones, and kicked him into darkness.
He came too, slowly, groggily, his thoughts still wheeling about him.
Wormwood whistled happily, as he bound Charlie to the mast, with alchemical chains.
Charlie spat blood from his mouth, and it dribbled down his chin.
“There you are!” Wormwood said. “Good lad.”
“Ashley…” Charlie gasped. “You know this can’t work.”
Wormwood smiled. “Oh, but it will Alex. For… at least four seconds.” He placed a helmet on Charlie’s head. “There you go. Now, these are going to want to get into your brain. They will sting a bit as they punch through your skull.”
Charlie thrashed and kicked, trying to break free of the chains. They tightened against him, stealing his breath. “Don’t! Ashley! Don’t!”
Wormwood jammed the helmet down, and needles punched into Charlie’s scalp, with fresh agony. He could feel them, digging down into his thoughts. He could feel the machinery burrowing into his mind, making him part of the machine. His other senses clouded away, and the world reshaped into endless ones and zeroes. He fought to centre himself, as one by one the threads of his thoughts were drawn into the flow of the machine thought.
Bits of him fell away. They crumbled away, to make room for the machine code. It was not painful. It was almost welcoming. He could let himself slip under the surface and become the machine. His self would just crumble away.
“You can’t stop this,” Wormwood whispered. “We will unleash the fire. But you can control the lens. You can contain the flow.”
The machine was dragging him in, unravelling his thoughts and dragging it under. He pulled and tore at it, kicking and thrashing to stay above the surface.
“N…” Charlie tried to speak. His words were sluggish. His mind was being reshaped, and his body already felt distant. “Nobody can.”
He couldn’t feel his fingers, but he could feel the ones and zeroes. They were cold and sharp, burrowing into his head.
“Not for long,” Wormwood agreed. “But… you have the magic flowing through you. It will heal the damage, and make you more resilient. It will give you a few more seconds than anybody else. You can funnel the fire. Or… you can refuse, and the city, the world, will burn out of control.”
Harris stepped over, and stared at Charlie. “You see?” He said, with a benign smile. “It is for a greater good.”
Charlie closed his eyes, and clung to what was left of his own self, as his mind crumbled around him.
The code closed in around him, and he sank into the ocean of numbers, drowning in thoughts that ground away everything in life that made it worth clinging to.
Melisa.
He reached out through the connection, into her thoughts, realising he was already forgetting the feel of her kiss, or the smell of her hair. He reached out-
And placed his hand on her shoulder.
She turned to face him, surprise, relief, and sadness in her eyes all at once.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry. I can’t stop them. Scimitar is theirs now. You have to get out. They’re… they’re making me do it, and I can’t…”
She said something else. He couldn’t make out the words.
With horror he realised where she was.
Aboard the mothership.
In the line of fire.
“Get out!” He screamed. “Get out! I… I…” He choked on the word, but couldn’t even be sure he said it. “I’m sorry. I will love you. Always.”
If she had a reply, he did not hear it.
The mast was humming up to power. The sky was cracking open.
His mind was sucked out of his body to contain the maelstrom inferno that spilt out.
The fire wanted to swallow the world. Charlie refused to let that happen. He drew strength from the magic, and held the fire back as best he could. It hungered. It wanted souls. It wanted to feed on the life of the world, and burn it all away to nothing.
Part of Charlie suddenly understood what it would feel like, to sate that hunger. To have all that power. He could be master of all. He could burn the world to beautiful ashes.
