The Terran Cycle Boxset

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Roland sighed and swallowed a mouthful of beer. It wasn’t the worst way to go, he thought. Saving the galaxy with a beer in his hand was definitely in his top three ways to die.

  “Oh, shit!” The bounty hunter put down his beer and hit the comm button. “Len, are you there?

  “What the shit is going on?” the Ch’kara shouted back. “Is this a Planet Killer?”

  Roland chugged the last of his beer. “Cool, ain’t it?”

  “It’s fucking terrifying, you moron!”

  The bounty hunter pulled away from the console and turned the volume down in his earpiece. “It looks like you’ve got about two minutes before the shockwaves hit your area. I don’t suppose the Forge is operational, is it?”

  “How can you be so casual? We’re both about to die!”

  Roland sat back in his chair and felt the pain in his shoulder combine with the pain in his leg. “I’m kind of tired, Len. Death doesn’t sound like the worst thing ever right now.”

  “It’s powering up,” Ch’len yelled over the rain on his end. “The Nalaxian crystal needed some extra love, but the wormhole is on a countdown to activation.”

  Roland looked at the scans and numbers streaming across his console. Ch’len wasn’t wrong; they would both be dead very soon.

  “How long until activation?” he asked.

  There was a pause on the Ch’kara’s end. “One minute and forty-six seconds…”

  The bounty hunter compared that number with the Rackham’s ETA. “It’s going to be damn close, Len. As soon as the wormhole opens, you need to—”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll be through that thing and on the Brightstar quicker than you can say the planet’s about to blow!”

  Roland activated the straps in his chair, fastening him to the hard leather. “Rackham, divert all power to thrust. Disable all safety protocols. I don’t want life support, lights, inertial dampeners, nothing! Let’s see if we can’t shave off some of the time…”

  The Rackham raced across Shandar’s surface, the extra boost to the engines just enough to get it ahead of the tidal wave of rock being thrown into the air. Roland was sat in near darkness, the only light coming from the viewport, though he wasn’t sure if it was such a good thing to see his own end.

  The countdown was against them.

  With less than a minute to go, Roland could literally see how many seconds he had left in the world. Where normally he would have reached for another beer, the bounty hunter was filled with determination. He suspected it was the soldier in him. There was still an enemy to beat and, until that enemy had been dealt with, Roland would see the war to its end, one way or the other.

  A jet of lava shot up in front of the Rackham, and the AI made last second adjustments to swerve around it. Roland felt the air forced from his lungs as the straps of his belt dug down to his bones. Without the dampeners, he was slave to the physics of the universe again. His body was thrown about in his seat as more columns of lava and mountains of rock exploded into the air. The Rackham weaved between them all using manoeuvres that were close to breaking his neck.

  The ship crested the rise of the last mountain before the Starforge was finally in sight. There was no wormhole. Roland fought against the oppressive force that did its best to crush him in his seat and reached for the comm panel.

  The mountain roared into the air beneath him.

  Roland was thrown every which way as the Rackham took the brunt of the rock and lava towards the back end, knocking them off course. Alarms blared from every corner of his console, warning him about so many different things he could barely register any one of them.

  “Rackham, are we good?” There was no response. “Rackham?”

  A moment later and the ship levelled out about a mile higher than it should have been. The Forge was on the ground and his trajectory had to be a horizontal flight path.

  “Rackham, speak to me,” he said urgently.

  With no response, Roland input the command to restore inertial dampeners and transfer the ship’s flight to manual control. He could breathe a little easier without the straps compressing his torso, but he had the mammoth job of bringing the Rackham back on course in a narrow window of time at breakneck speeds.

  Having no choice but to dive down, the Rackham lost some of its speed and a lot of its forward motion. The waves of rock and jets of lava caught up to him by the time he levelled out the ship, a few metres above the surface. The right-angled turn was so sharp that the underbelly scraped along the jagged ground for twenty metres before Roland found any lift again.

  “Come on, baby, don’t let me down now!”

  The Starforge was dead ahead and still without a wormhole. There were only seconds, however, before the quakes made it impossible to fly through the circumference. The Rackham shook with the external disturbances and slabs of rock hammered it from every side.

  “Come on, Len. Come on. Open it.” The bounty hunter was jostled in his seat and he gritted his teeth. “Come on, Len! Open it!”

  The tidal wave of rock had swept through the clouds above and was on its way down, along with countless jets of lava from below that would soon destroy the Forge.

  Ten seconds.

  Roland gripped the flight controls, keeping his eyes fixed on the crescent Forge.

  Five seconds.

  A spark ignited between the two pointed limbs and a bright and colourful light spilled into the crescent, filling the Forge with a wormhole.

  Ch’len dove through, and Roland yelled at the top of his lungs as seeing the ground beneath the Forge began to crack and drop away. The shadow of the tidal wave fell over the Rackham and the Forge.

  The bright light washed over the viewport and alarms began anew as the Rackham entered the Brightstar’s hangar at maximum thrust. Roland battled with the controls to slow everything down, but it seemed the back half of the ship was completely gone, cut off by the disrupted wormhole. What was left of the Rackham flew for another moment, before skidding across the hangar in a shower of sparks. Pilots and engineers ran for cover and jumped out of the way.

  Roland could do nothing but be thrown about in his chair every time the Rackham clipped a transport or demolished a bank of consoles. The ship had almost skidded to the other end of the hangar before the momentum faded and the Rackham spun around to face the bewildered crew.

  In the distance, Ch’len was lying flat in front of the Starforge with his stubby arms covering his head.

  “You flew right over me,” Ch’len said in his ear, somewhat shell-shocked.

  Roland managed a smile. “That’s why I keep you around, Len. You’re one lucky son of a bitch…”

  Exiting the Rackham, Roland winced at the sight of his ruined home. The entire back half had been neatly severed, leaving the innards exposed for all to see. The bounty hunter limped across the hangar and joined Ch’len by the force field. He apologised to many of the crew on his way, noticing their astonished expressions.

  Together, they stood and watched the end of Shandar. The planet was cracked from pole to pole with bright orange veins. Massive sections of the floating city were already on fire around the globe. The northern hemisphere collapsed first, reminding Roland of a skull being caved in. The rest of Shandar soon followed and before they knew it, every corner of the planet was imploding.

  Red Darts began to return to the Brightstar, entering via the force field that made up one of the hangar’s walls. The battle around them was breaking up, with C-Sec cruisers turning away from the dying world and entering subspace. The enemy ships were doing the same, aware of what was about to happen next.

  Shandar exploded and the Crucible along with it.

  The planet burst across the system, vaporising the network of cities that floated around it. Roland and Ch’len took a step back from the force field, but it didn’t matter; the Brightstar shot forward and entered the eerie abyss of subspace. They both sighed in relief.

  “We did it,” Ch’len said.

  Rolan
d looked down on his co-pilot. “It was more of a sixty/forty in terms of effort.”

  “To me,” Ch’len argued. “And that’s being generous!”

  It hurt to laugh, but Roland could still smile. “Let’s go find out how the rest of the war’s going. And maybe lie down too…”

  Telarrek worked tirelessly at his console to monitor the battles over both Evalan and Shandar, but his attention was inevitably pulled to the hologram floating above the adjacent console. His large eyes focused on the camera feed outside the High Spire’s control room, where several teams of infected Shay were displaying a level of intelligence not seen since before the Crucible was switched on.

  Through sheer numbers, the Shay had overwhelmed every cannon and turret emplacement, wholly undeterred by the growing number of bodies piling up. The losses they had taken progressing this far should have been enormous, but they had all stood up again. All they needed was time.

  “What are they doing now?” Uthor asked.

  Telarrek glanced at the Raalak’s children, hesitant to enlarge the holo-feed. “It appears they are trying to find a way inside.”

  Uthor grunted. “Impossible. Even a million Shay couldn’t dig through these walls.”

  “They are not digging,” Telarrek corrected. “They have set up teams on each side of the door. They have already unscrewed the panels and are working their way through the electrical system. I believe they intend to find a way of bypassing the security protocols and disabling the servomotors. Then, with their combined strength, they could open the door manually…”

  The Atari honour guard came up behind the Novaarian. “I thought they were closer to animals now.”

  “They still are,” Telarrek replied. “What we are seeing is the nanocelium adapting to the situation. It can use blunt force to bring its prey down, or the intellectual knowledge of an engineer.”

  Uthor stepped in front of his family and asked quietly, “How long?”

  Telarrek had already given that much thought. “Without the appropriate tools, I estimate it will take them—”

  “Wait,” the Atari guard interrupted, leaning over the hologram. “Zoom in on that one, the one working inside the wall.”

  The Novaarian expanded the image and the Shay in question became the focus of the hologram. While the Shay beside it was seeing to the next panel in their way, this Shay was holding its hand flat against the circuit board.

  The Atari guard turned to them. “They don’t need tools…” he said in despair.

  Telarrek zoomed in again and enhanced the image around the Shay’s hand. Black strands of nanocelium snaked over its knuckles and burrowed into the circuit board.

  Everyone’s head snapped towards the door as a loud thunk came from within the wall. Another thunk came from the other side of the door and a sharp hiss broke out from around the door’s seal. The councillors scrambled to the other side of the room and Uthor sent his family with them. Telarrek joined the Atari in picking up a weapon and forming a protective line in front of the door. Uthor cracked his rock-like knuckles.

  The large door budged a few centimetres, eliciting an offensive scraping sound from the floor. Another few centimetres and the first ray of light from the corridor shone through. Uthor charged over and shoved his bulk into the door, pushing against their pull. The Atari marched over to the growing gap and fired his rifle into the opening. Blood splattered in every direction until Uthor finally dug in his feet and closed the gap.

  “I can’t… hold it…” he strained.

  Telarrek shouldered his rifle, waiting for the inevitable again. Adding his own strength to the door, a fraction of Uthor’s, would do nothing but keep him from firing on the first Shay to make it through.

  This was how it would all come end. Both fleets were on the verge of defeat because they were outnumbered and up against a form of technology they couldn’t compete with. Now, the occupants of this room were going to meet a similar fate, overwhelmed by an enemy they couldn’t hope to keep back.

  The door began to open again.

  Uthor adjusted his position and grip on the flat surface, but it made little difference. The light came through, along with several Shay arms and hands. The Atari unleashed his rifle again, but every limb was replaced by another and then another. They were relentless, their will indomitable, and their numbers vastly superior.

  If there was one thing he had learned from humanity, it was finding the courage in the face of overwhelming odds. Telarrek levelled his weapon and squeezed the trigger, adding his own Intrinium rounds to the barrage.

  Little by little, the Shay slid the door farther away from the seal. The first few of the aliens to make it through the gap had to wiggle their bony bodies to fit, making them easy targets for the Atari and Novaarian. They were soon forced through, however, by those pushing from behind.

  Telarrek could hear the whimpers of Uthor’s children on the other side of the room. The Novaarian steadied his breathing and took careful aim to fire a round into the head of every Shay, putting them down quickly. That sparked an idea that Telarrek wanted nothing to do with, but the idea had taken root.

  It would be a mercy, he thought.

  Seeing Uthor struggle weaponless against the door, Telarrek knew the Raalak could never do it; not to his own family. But Telarrek could. It would only take three quick squeezes of the trigger and they wouldn’t have to face this horde of monsters. It would be over in an instant. No pain. No more terror.

  He had to decide soon, before he ran out of ammo. With nowhere to run, it seemed ridiculous now to waste the Intrinium on a foe that would get back up. Not when he could use it to end the suffering of others.

  “They’re getting through!” the Atari shouted.

  Telarrek’s Novaarian reflexes allowed him to easily flick his gun from one target to the next, placing a round in the brain of every oncoming Shay. At first it was two or three, but as Uthor was pushed farther along, more of the horde found their way inside. It was now or never…

  “I am sorry,” Telarrek whispered.

  The Novaarian spun around and found his new targets, cowering by the far wall. He gripped the weapon, struggling to raise it at a family he had known for so long; a family he loved himself.

  Then it hit him. The silence.

  Telarrek blinked and slowly turned back around to face the door. Uthor and the Atari were cautiously kicking the Shay, who were all lying where they had only a moment ago been standing. Every one of the infected aliens was still, piled on top of each other. They were dead.

  The Novaarian’s shoulders sagged so much he dropped the rifle. He propped himself up against the nearest console and looked over the cybernetic bodies. Another few seconds and he would have…

  Telarrek gripped the edges of the console and swallowed the vomit that threatened to explode from his mouth.

  Uthor ran over to his family and pulled them close. The councillors hugged each other, but were careful to stay on the other side of the room.

  “What happened?” the Atari asked.

  Telarrek slumped into the chair and brought up the holo-feeds around Shandar. There were none. Every C-Sec battlecruiser was in subspace, or at least those who had survived. Reports had already been sent through before their departure.

  Shandar was gone.

  Telarrek read and re-read the reports. Destroying the planet hadn’t been the plan but, apparently, no one told Roland North that. The Crucible had been blown to atoms and its insidious signal with it. The Shay threat was over.

  35

  Kalian’s perspective on reality was turned upside down so fast that even his Terran brain struggled to make sense of everything.

  The enormous mass of the Forge was torn from space and re-materialised inside the Kellekt’s most intimate chamber. The nanocelium of both structures was fused together, setting off chain reactions throughout the merged ships as all of their systems were disrupted. The three Starrilliums around ALF’s Starforge were separated from their reactor
s, shutting down the station’s primary source of power and preventing the Forge from dropping into subspace.

  Kalian was thrown from his position under the super subconducer and hurled around the bridge, as sparks and explosions erupted from every wall, console, and machine. The glass walls shattered, but his exosuit protected him from the shards. It couldn’t protect him from ALF, however.

  “What have you done?” the AI roared, picking Kalian up by the throat. He tossed him aside and over the shower of sparks jetting out of the nearest console.

  Kalian struggled to pick himself up, feeling the drain of the jump. He used the broken rails and twisted metal to climb to his feet. Blood was trickling down his nose, and his ear felt wet too. He collapsed his helmet back into his suit and blinked the sweat from his eyes, trying to focus on the raging AI.

  “You only have one choice now, ALF. Merge your code with theirs and free the nanocelium. There’s enough of you to do it.”

  “I will be spread so far and wide that there’ll be nothing left of me!” the AI argued.

  “Then let them quarantine you,” Kalian replied, his speech rehearsed. “Let them eject whatever’s left of you into space where they can obliterate you. Or… merge your code, free the entire Kellekt, and do what you’ve always said you do: save humanity.”

  ALF looked away, furious. “You aren’t giving me much of a choice here, Kalian.”

  “You never gave us a choice.” Kalian moved his head around in the hope of shaking off the dizziness. “You’ve played god with humanity for too long, ALF. It’s time for us to find a new way. Our own way.”

  ALF appeared distracted, his crystal blue eyes darting around the destroyed bridge. “It’s already beginning. They’re trying to uncouple my nanocelium.”

  “Then do it,” Kalian urged. “Spread your code through the system.”

  ALF sighed and met Kalian’s dark eyes. “I only ever wanted you all to… to live.”