The Alliance (AI Empire Book 2)

by Isaac Hooke

  Brontosaurus bounded past, using his jetpack. He tossed grenades in front of him like Eric to clear the way; he reached the gooseneck vent and shoved several grenades inside. Then he shoved off, floating upward.

  The grenades detonated, and the gooseneck vent broke open into a series of petals like a flowering plant. Eric glanced overhead, but he saw no indication the shield had gone offline. He fired his plasma beam upward, and it traveled the five hundred meters to the shield, and the concave force field activated.

  “Shield is still online!” Eric said.

  He reached the gooseneck vent; it was big enough to fit his android, so he dove inside. Crusher and Bambi followed.

  “Stay back!” he said. “You lose your androids, you lose your AI cores!”

  But they ignored him.

  He used his hands to pull himself down the tunnel; the confines allowed him to extend his arms up to the elbows and that was about it. He moved deeper into the opening, until suddenly artificial gravity took hold, and he fell the rest of the way to the bottom of the compartment. He swiveled out of the way as Bambi and Crusher dropped behind him.

  It was easier to see here, since the glow from the bulkheads was far dimmer. The bottom was where most of the grenades had detonated. The explosion had ripped an opening into the side bulkhead. In the compartment beyond, the reactor responsible for maintaining the shield generator’s cooling flow was supposed to be right next to the wall.

  But the aliens had moved it to the far side of the compartment. Apparently one of them had identified the vulnerability at some point, and they’d taken steps to remedy it.

  No problem.

  Eric threw a grenade toward the generator.

  A tentacle swung out from the side, sourced by something just out of view, and swatted the grenade away. It struck the wall and detonated harmlessly next to the generator.

  Eric cautiously peered past the edge of the opening.

  Three large bioweapons resided in the compartment. They vaguely resembled minotaurs; muscular, humanoid bodies covered in scales, and heads that were somewhat bullish. The tips of their arms were covered in long tentacles, while smaller tentacles hung from beneath their heads. Long beaks protruded from their mouths, lined with sharp teeth.

  Those tentacles swung out toward him. He couldn’t retreat—Bambi was right behind him.

  “Look out!” he said.

  He leaped forward, into the room, and when he landed, he dashed toward the reactor. Tentacles shot out in front of him, wrapping around his body and pulling him toward one of the minotaurs. His hands—and thus his rifle—were glued to his body. Beside him, Bambi was also wrapped up and drawn toward that serrated mouth, which had opened wide in anticipation of a meal.

  The minotaur was going to be sorely disappointed when it crunched down on a mouthful of metal. Then again, maybe it liked eating machines. Given how it looked, he wouldn’t put that past the thing.

  Plasma beams erupted from behind them as Crusher opened fire.

  The minotaur released Eric and Bambi and they dropped to the deck.

  Other tentacles thrust out, but Eric used the bayonet attachment on his rifle to slice them away. Then he stepped back and fired his plasma beam, hitting the creature in the center of mass. It fell to the deck with a huge hole in its chest cavity, but then its arms and legs curved backward at an unnatural angle and it rushed to assault them like some attack dog.

  “It’s like something out of the Exorcist!” Bambi exclaimed as she unleashed her plasma rifle.

  Eric had recently let her watch that movie. That had been a mistake—she’d had nightmares for weeks after.

  The rifle bit into the twisted minotaur and finally its attack let up.

  Eric turned toward the reactor only to find that the other two had taken up positions in front of the device.

  “Interesting.” Eric experimentally tossed a grenade their way, and once again a minotaur attempted to swat it aside.

  Eric grinned when it detonated, blowing away the tentacle of the minotaur in question—he’d switched to proximity trigger mode.

  Unfortunately, he had only one grenade left. And two minotaurs still blocking his path.

  “Anyone have any grenades left?” Eric asked.

  “I’m out,” Crusher replied.

  “Me too,” Bambi said.

  “Bolt Eaters, we need more grenades down here,” Eric said.

  No answer.

  “The hull must be blocking our communications,” Crusher said.

  He glanced sidelong at her. “Get back up there and borrow a grenade from someone else, then.”

  A moment later Crusher said: “Uh. Could take me a while.”

  Eric turned around.

  In front of Crusher, past the rent in the bulkhead, micro machines were dropping down into the conduit the trio had used to enter like insects falling from a disturbed anthill.

  She began opening fire at them, trying to clear a path.

  “Eric!” Bambi shouted.

  He amped up his time sense, but too late a tentacle wrapped around him and drew him inward. Because he was still in his heightened state, he managed to avoid having his rifle pinned to his body, and he fired at the source creature, striking it in the chest cavity. It released him, but like the other, even though its body crimped up grotesquely, it was still in the game.

  Beside him, the other minotaur they’d shot up was coming at him again, and Bambi was doing all she could to defend against it.

  The two minotaurs in front unleashed their tentacles in rapid succession, and Eric amped up his servomotor output to slice them away with his bayonet. He caused thick cuts that oozed black mist into the void—their blood was desublimating and evaporating at the same time as it touched the void environment.

  One of the minotaurs thrust its head forward, opening those jaws wide, and Eric rammed the muzzle of his rifle down its throat and squeeze the trigger. The head exploded, and the minotaur finally collapsed.

  The other one swatted him aside with its muscular arms, and he struck the bulkhead next to the reactor.

  With that minotaur down, he had a clear view of the reactor in front of him, so he took a risk and threw the grenade. He amped up his time sense and swung his rifle toward the remaining minotaur beside the reactor, and he aimed at the tentacles as they shot out toward the grenade, as expected. He fired in rapid succession, severing the tentacles with his attacks, and the grenade struck the reactor and detonated.

  The explosion sent him reeling, and he smashed into the far side of the room. He clambered to his feet.

  “You guys all right?” he asked.

  “Fine,” Bambi said, not far from him.

  “Yeah,” Crusher said on the other side of the room.

  He glanced at the reactor. It was a smoldering ruin. Beside it, the corpses of the minotaurs were unrecognizable. The third minotaur, its body still twisted like some demonic attack dog, began to rise, but Bambi shoved her rifle down its beak and fired, blowing the head apart.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Eric said.

  “How,” Crusher said, pointing at the termites still dropping from the hull, and crawling into the room from the opening.

  “You still have jumpjets,” Eric said. “Force your way past.”

  “What about you?” Bambi said. “You don’t have jumpjets.”

  “I’ll have to climb,” he said.

  “Your power levels are too low, not after the way you moved back there,” Bambi said. “Your zapper won’t be able to outlast them.”

  “I’ll give you a ride,” Crusher said.

  “It’s too tight,” Eric said.

  “Hang onto my feet!” Crusher said. “Bambi, go!”

  Bambi dashed over the termites near the opening, and sparks lit up across her boots. She leaped inside and jetted upward.

  Crusher followed just behind her, and Eric immediately after.

  She leaped through the tear and activated her jumpjets. Eric plowed through after
her, his zapper engaging—his power cell levels dropped to precarious levels. He wrapped his hands around Crusher’s boots before they passed out of reach, and was jerked upward.

  The artificial gravity faded, and she pulled him to the surface of the hull, which was becoming blindingly bright.

  She deposited him on top of a nearby superstructure, where the other Bolt Eaters had gathered.

  “Why didn’t you guys follow?” Eric asked his fellow Bolt Eaters.

  Frogger pointed toward the deck below.

  Amid the brightness, his LIDAR illuminated the bodies of more of those minotaurs lying on the deck.

  “Oh,” he said.

  He aimed his weapon skyward and fired. The space station’s shield didn’t engage, and the beam receded into the distance.

  “Jain, do you read?” Eric tried. “Shield is down. I repeat, shield is down.”

  He glanced at his timer. He and the others had been operating in accelerated reality for most of the mission, especially the latter half, so that external time had passed with half the speed.

  That was good, because it meant there was still another minute left before the space station unleashed its deadly weapon. Hopefully that was enough time for the fleet to do what needed to be done.

  “I read you,” Jain said. “Your men already reported in. We’re coming in for an attack run. I suggest you get the hell off of there.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for, let’s go!” Eric pushed off.

  “We were waiting for you!” Brontosaurus said.

  The others fired their jetpacks, launching into space. Bambi scooped him up.

  Eric sent a rendezvous signal to the shuttle; hopefully it would pick them up soon. Then again, maybe it was better if they remained adrift as individual androids when that space station’s weapon fired. Just in case Jain and the fleet didn’t destroy it in time.

  He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  But in war, one could never assume anything.

  “We did it,” Bambi transmitted beside him.

  Eric nodded, saying nothing.

  10

  Jain had been tied up above the space station by several Buckyballs. They’d released plasma beams at him and the Mimic fleet, and the lot of them had been forced to dodge those multi-fired beams.

  He had only a minute to destroy the space station. But at his current accelerated time sense, that was more like three.

  He unleashed his blobs and lightning weapon at two Buckyballs in front of him, then swung about to face the space station. It was so bright that it reminded him of a small sun. Even his autogating tech couldn’t filter it all, and he was forced to deactivate the visual band, and instead rely on LIDAR to target it.

  The Vaernastians and Revlon had maintained their line of Barbells and Claws before the station. There was no way Jain or anyone else would be able to destroy the station, not while those bastards guarded it.

  “Mark, Gavin, Cranston, I need you guys back here,” Jain said. He would have recalled Medeia, too, but she was currently cloaked, and not present on the virtual bridge. “Sheila, how strong is your energy shield?”

  “Pretty weak,” Sheila said. “I won’t be able to help you in the attack run, I don’t think.”

  “Stay back,” Jain said. “Tanis, do you have any ships with teleport charge left?”

  “No,” Tanis said. “They’re all either destroyed, or currently recharging. Is your man Cranston able to teleport yet?”

  “No,” Jain said. “The Bolt Eaters just completed their mission. Cranston doesn’t have time to reintegrate the tech from the shuttle. Never mind, I have something else in mind.”

  He connected Hephaestus, Jhagan, and Slate as well and upped his time sense even higher, then explained his plan.

  “Let’s do it,” Mark said.

  Jain reverted to a somewhat slower time sense, and watched the Nurturer fleet of the Mimics dive toward the space station, joined by the Hang Gliders of the Tyrnari, all of whom broke away from their current combatants. The former unleashed a wave of blobs at the space station, while the latter fired plasma beams and those bubble-like projectiles.

  On cue, the Barbells and Claws fired a wall of energy nets and expanding rifts.

  “You know, I just thought of something,” Sheila said. “We could use those rifts to flee the system, if we can hit them head on. A way to bypass the Vaernastian rift jammers.”

  “Except the rifts aren’t big enough to fit any of our ships,” Jain said. “Even when they expand to their maximum breadth, they’re still not big enough. If we enter, we’ll inevitably cut off portions of our hulls.”

  “It was a nice dream…” Sheila said.

  “Losing a repairable hull segment is preferable to losing the entire ship,” Mark said.

  “Except it’s a bit too late to attempt such a strategy now,” Jain said. “And as soon as we tried it, the Claw ships would stop firing their rifts, no doubt. No, we finish this.”

  The Mimics and Tyrnari continued flying toward that incoming wall, but then they split up, moving in separate directions. The individual ships overtopped or undercut the expanding wall, depending on their location, and circumvented it; then they swung back to come at the Barbell and Claw ships from the sides.

  The enemy ships swiveled their noses to track the Mimics, and unleashed more nets and rifts.

  “Now!” Jain said while the ships were distracted.

  Mark rushed forward with Slate and the other Banthar, firing black holes galore. The enemy ships were forced to relocate, lest those black holes hit them.

  The space station began to launch dispersion bolts—it was equipped with the same defenses as the world killers—and those black holes disappeared before they could strike.

  Jain followed behind the Banthar, flying the Devastator through the resultant hole that was poked into their lines. He dodged the energy nets and rifts that the Barbells and Claws randomly launched his way, until he was flying over the ship.

  The Banthar were raking the bright surface with their micro machines. Jain fired his lightning weapon, and unleashed several blobs. Cranston formed his micro machines into projectile that tore thick gaps into the surface. Gavin launched his orbiting drones, and the shared energy beam produced between them cut away different superstructures.

  The Paladins came in next, and they launched raptors and hellraisers in rapid succession. The space station was unable to hold up to all the blows—the glow on its surface began to fade, and a moment later the framework exploded entirely.

  Jain and the others finished their flyby; glancing behind him, he watched in satisfaction as the station’s constituent pieces spread outward in all directions like some exploding firework. He looked at his countdown timer. They had ten seconds to spare.

  “Talk about cutting it close,” Cranston said.

  “We do that, sometimes,” Mark added.

  The rifts that the space station was generating for realtime communications with the rest of the Link deactivated at the same time. Some of the ships in the system were apparently operating under remote control, just like Eric, because when those rifts collapsed, several Veriarty Cubes ceased fighting, their running lights turning dim, and they simply drifted away aimlessly.

  “They’re piloting them from different systems,” Mark commented.

  “No, really?” Gavin said.

  Mark gave him an annoyed look.

  “Just like we used to do in Iraq and Afghanistan,” Cranston commented. “We went to work, made a few drone strikes, then after clocking out we drove home, had dinner, watched some BuddyTube, and then hopped into our warm beds.”

  “Well, now the Veriarty are beginning to see the problems with a remote operations strategy,” Jain said. “The same problems we eventually hit up against.”

  The allied fleet made short work of lifeless vessels.

  The other enemy ships meanwhile began to activate rift beams of their own.

  “They’re trying to jump out,” Sh
eila said.

  “Take down as many as you can,” Jain said. They all knew that any ship they let get away now, was another vessel that they’d have to deal with at some later date.

  He turned the Devastator around and began picking off the fleeing Barbells. A minute later most of them had jumped away. There were still a few laggards whose rift generators had been disabled, and the other members of the allied fleet were taking care of them. Meanwhile, still more allies methodically destroyed the remaining infrastructure frameworks that orbited the staging planet.

  Jain tried to create a rift. It worked. So even the Vaernastian jamming ships had fled.

  “Well, that’s one staging planet to cross off the list,” Jain said.

  “We still have some activity on the planet below,” Sheila said. “Looks like Jason is a bit tied up.”

  Jain glanced at Xander. “Bring us a little closer. I think I’d like to watch.”

  “You’re twisted like that,” Sheila commented with an amused grin.

  She knew he had no intention of watching, not if he could help it.

  Jason and the War Forgers had cleared out most of the Razor Claws, and had dispersed among the different quonsets to defend against the Triceratopses and different machines, along with other bioweapons. The Loris still randomly appeared among them, asking for charges, and whenever they came, the team members quickly complied: the faster they could get those charges placed, the sooner they could finish here. The Lori in question would gather the charges, and then vanish once more.

  So far, the Loris had detonated roughly half of the generators that led to Earth. The other half remained intact, along with all of the generators that fed bioweapons to the staging area.

  Whenever the Loris caused more rifts to shutdown, the bioweapons would either swerve toward the next closest rift to Earth, or they’d attack the War Forgers—whoever was nearer.

  Jason and his War Forgers were facing off against a strange breed of bioweapons in that moment, four-legged creatures that resembled giant marsupials; they could breathe ice, freezing the ground beneath the mechs, as well as their actual components. The ice melted away eventually, but the stricken components would remain inoperable for up to five minutes.