by M. R. Forbes
They were on the bikes and nearly through the gauntlet when the population suddenly sprang back to life, breaking free of the malaise holding them. Back in motion, the militants they passed tried to get a bead on them, but they were too far ahead and moving too fast. Rounds pinged off the armored rears of the bikes as they made their escape, reaching the edge of the city and gaining the highway, heading south.
The road ran right along the coast. It had been cleared of debris a long time ago, and while large stretches had eroded over time, the motorcycles were prepared for it, covering the uneven ground easily. Twenty-five klicks brought them to the edge of another small settlement. A blockade—a pair of heavily armored trucks parked across the crumbling roadway—was visible from a distance.
Hayden pulled his motorcycle to a stop. Isaac and Max did the same.
“Through or around, Sheriff?” Max asked.
“You’ve got Cyrus’ memories,” Hayden replied. “You tell me.”
“Around,” Max replied.
“You’ve got point.”
“Pozz. Hahaha. Haha.”
Max rolled his motorcycle ahead of them, and then led them off the road to the east. It didn’t take long for the barricade to react to the change in direction, a group of modified dune buggies and motorcycles appearing from behind the armored trucks. Armed militants stood on the steel frames of the buggies, each with one hand wrapped around spiked crossbars and the other clutching an old rifle.
“Guess we aren’t getting off that easy,” Isaac said, glancing back.
Max picked up the pace, accelerating across the terrain with Hayden and Isaac right behind him. The militia’s vehicles chewed through the dirt, spitting up clouds of dust and debris as they charged toward them at an angle, trying to cut off their escape.
So much for getting close to Shurrath without him knowing. At this rate, Hayden expected an army of thousands to be standing in front of the entrance to the Relyeh ancient’s mountain lair.
“Can we lose them?” Hayden shouted forward.
“Affirmation. It is required,” Max replied.
The bikes screamed across the arid terrain. The buggies and motorcycles did the same. The militants on the back of the vehicles started shooting, their rounds echoing across the landscape, the slugs not even coming close—at least not yet.
Hayden reached up, pushing his hat off his head to grab the Skin’s mantle and pull it up over his face. The HUD appeared, and he used it to target the oncoming enemy as the distance between them and Shurrath’s forces began to narrow.
“We aren’t going to make it!” he shouted. The opposition’s velocity wasn’t much faster than theirs, but they had the advantage of a shorter attack angle.
As if to confirm his statement, enemy fire began pinging off the side of his motorcycle. He blinked rapidly, activating the Skin’s shields just in time to avoid taking a bullet to his leg.
“Max!” he shouted.
“Faster,” Max replied, speeding up a little more.
Max was an AI. He had to know they were losing ground. Why did he think they could make it?
Unless he was convinced they wouldn’t survive if they didn’t?
Hayden looked over at the enemy forces. Three motorcycles, three buggies and one of the trucks were bringing up the rear, too big and bulky to keep the pace. It was probably loaded with soldiers.
Hayden looked forward. A hill was rapidly approaching. Once they got over it, they might have a better chance to slip away.
He looked back, an idea forming in his mind based on what Natalia had said to him.
When you get to Shurrath, make yourself known. I’ll find you.
Sneaking in wasn’t going to work, despite his best efforts.
But it wasn’t the only option.
He slammed on the brakes, putting his foot down and skidding the motorcycle around to face the oncoming storm.
Chapter 52
Hayden twisted the throttle, the motorcycle shooting forward toward Shurrath’s soldiers. Max and Isaac hadn’t noticed his maneuver yet, but he was sure they would soon enough. They would undoubtedly think he was crazy—and maybe he was—but he had never gotten anywhere being afraid to take risks.
The enemy was converging on Hayden fast. He grabbed one of his revolvers and leaned forward, lowering himself behind the handlebars and the armor plating rising from the front fork. Bullets started hitting the bike, pinging off the metal in front of him. A few scraped past the Skin, bouncing off the shields.
Hayden extended his hand and fired, hitting the driver of the lead motorcycle in the shoulder and then a second time in the chest. The bike slipped out from under its riders and hit the dirt, both men tumbling over the handlebars in a cloud of dust. The other vehicles peeled away from them, staying on target and continuing the charge.
Hayden kept shooting, emptying his gun without hitting another soldier. He holstered the weapon and ducked lower over the handlebars as bullets peppered him. Symbols in the corner of his vision flashed red—the Skin’s HUD complaining about the power drain—as he crossed between the first two motorcycles. Leaning to the right, he shoved his hand into the front rotor of the one on the right as it passed, punching through the brakes and freezing the bike’s momentum. The motorcycle came to a sudden, hard deceleration, flipping forward and throwing its riders, the fork twisting until it snapped.
Then Hayden was past the main group, wobbling a bit before rebalancing himself and racing toward the armored truck. He could tell now that it was a military APC, with large spiked wheels that held the chassis over two feet off the ground. A heavy machine gun was mounted to the top, and a militant had emerged from a hatch in the roof to take the controls.
Hayden again looked up at the flashing symbol. The Skin was nearly out of power. Could it absorb the fury of the cannon bearing down on him?
He was going to find out.
He weaved side-to-side as the machine gun opened fire, sending huge slugs down at him, digging up the earth in small gouts that splattered him as he approached. He used his left hand to pull his other revolver, squinting slightly as he aimed.
He fired three times. The first round hit the top of the APC and ricocheted away. The second struck the column supporting the machine gun. The third hit the shooter in the arm, knocking him away from the cannon and over the side of the vehicle.
The armored APC continued bearing down on him, leaving him on a collision course with the much larger, heavier machine.
Hayden didn’t budge. He raced toward the vehicle in an insane game of chicken, charging toward the center of it and emptying his revolver into the hardened glass cockpit. The rounds couldn’t pierce the glass, his effort more symbolic than anything.
The two vehicles closed on one another. Hayden holstered the revolver, and as they closed to ten meters he held the handlebars and hopped onto the seat, perching there like a trick rider. It took only two seconds to close the gap. Hayden smiled beneath the Intellect Skin at the driver’s look of disbelief as the two vehicles prepared to collide.
Hayden jumped off the motorcycle an instant before the APC hit it, the wrenching and grinding of metal lasting only a moment as the bike was shoved under the armored truck and trampled beneath its wheels. Hayden flew up and over the front of the truck, toward the mounted cannon. He grabbed onto the steel barrel with his augmented right hand, gripping it tight and gritting his teeth as he held on, the sudden change in momentum ripping at the arm’s control ring and the muscles and nerves it was connected to.
Still holding onto the cannon, he landed face down on the top of the truck, his head nearly sinking into the open hatch. A soldier looked up at him in shock, reaching for his gun.
Hayden pulled his head away and rolled backward on the roof of the armored truck, barely avoiding the rounds coming up out of the hatch As the truck came to a slow and steady stop, he glimpsed Isaac on his motorcycle ahead, riding in chaotic patterns around the remaining enemy buggy. Where was Max? He found the Intellec
t a moment later, standing on the other buggy and finishing off the last of its riders.
But that’s all he had time for.
The man he’d surprised in the hatch only moments ago grabbed the lip with two servo-powered metal hands and yanked himself up and out with the kind of speed only augments provided.
Staring at the man, Hayden heard the back ramp dropping. In twenty seconds, everyone inside the APC would be outside shooting up at him.
The soldier in front of him smiled. “You like them?” he asked, flexing the artificial muscles of the augments. More servos moved in response, the hands closing and two spikes shooting out from the back of the wrists.
“Is your head made of metal too?” Hayden asked in response.
“Wha—?”
Hayden shot him between the eyes, the bullet passing through his skull and into his brain.
“Guess not,” Hayden said, blinking rapidly to scan the soldier as he stood there a moment, his body clinging to its last few instructions from his brain before he toppled over the side of the truck.
Hayden activated the image to disguise himself and jumped down to the left side of the APC. It would take the soldiers a few seconds to notice the bandoliers, revolvers, and ammo belt were out of place.
The militants began to rush out of the APC, turning to aim their rifles at the roof.
“He’s gone,” Hayden said, getting the attention of the group coming around to the side of the truck. “Killed him already.”
One of the men smiled. “Not so tough after all, was he?”
“Nope,” Hayden agreed.
“Sal, where’d you get those—?”
Hayden opened fire, six rounds killing four of Shurrath’s militia within seconds. He dropped the projection, falling and rolling beneath the APC as the other soldiers moved to retaliate. Spent casings flew out of open cylinders as he slid across and popped up on the other side. He used two fingers dangling from his right revolver to lift a speedloader up and into the left pistol, shoving the cylinder closed in one smooth motion. Then he dropped the spent gun, using his free hand to grab the side of the truck and pull himself up off the ground. Just as his feet left the ground, bullets sprayed under the truck from the other side.
He held onto the side of the APC, shooting as the soldiers came around the back, taking out two before letting go and falling to the ground. He rolled to the side, getting behind the forward wheel and turning to his right as another soldier rounded the front of the truck. Hayden was ready to meet him, throwing a hard punch to his face that sent him reeling.
He heard the motorcycle before he saw it and pivoted as Isaac approached, resting his rifle on the handlebars and shooting at the remaining militants. One of them fell; the other three dropped back behind cover as he zoomed past.
The distraction gave Hayden time to reload, and then he grabbed the side door of the truck and tugged it open, ripping it from its hinges. He ducked behind it, using it as a shield when the soldiers started shooting again. He leaned out past the side and shot back, dropping them.
Then he dropped the door, turning back to the cab. The driver had his hands up. “Don’t shoot.”
“Sorry. Can’t risk you reporting back to your boss,” Hayden replied before shooting the man in the temple.
By then, Isaac had swung his motorcycle back around, coming to a stop beside Hayden. “You are one crazy son of a bitch.” He looked into the distance. “Here comes Max. What was this all about anyway? We were going to make it.”
“Maybe.” Hayden patted the side of the truck. “But I have a better plan now.”
Chapter 53
Natalia tore the goggles off her head and dropped them at her feet as she fell sideways off her chair.
Lutz caught her before she could hit the floor.
“Governor?” he said, concerned.
She pushed him away, falling to her knees and leaning over to vomit.
“Governor, I’ll get Doctor Hess,” he told her, turning to go.
She grabbed onto his forearm to hold him there as she coughed out the last of her sickness. She glanced down at it. No blood. That was a good sign.
“I found him,” she said, breathing through the last of her nausea.
“Who? Sheriff Duke?”
She nodded. “I entered the mind of a khoron through the Collective. I gained control over it. Hayden’s with Isaac, headed south. He knows where Shurrath is hiding.”
“Governor Duke, that’s all great news, I think. But honestly, I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”
Natalia looked up. It was the first time she had ever heard the engineer swear. “It works, Sean. That’s the important part. The interlink works. It put me into the Collective. Into the other dimension or at least across it. I entered the mind of one of the ancient Relyeh. Or maybe it entered my mine. I don’t know which. Its name is Shub-Nigu. It called itself the Artificer. It created the Collective.”
“Okay,” Lutz said, unsure how to react. “What does all that mean?”
“It means that I had access to the Relyeh’s comm network. I got into the mind of a khoron, and I found something there. Help me up. We need to talk to Hess.”
Lutz helped her stand and then took hold of her shoulders to steady her on her feet. He kept hold of her one arm as she unsteadily crossed the lab to where Hess was working .
“Governor Duke,” he said, splitting his attention between the Ick and Natalia. “How are you feeling?”
Her stomach was still upset, her heart and head pounding. “Awful, but it doesn’t matter. I can deal with it later. Can you magnify the Ick more?”
“I can, but what are we looking for?”
“The base of the root; if you zoom in close enough, there should be a small grouping of cells.”
Hess used the microscope controls to increase the magnification, rotating around the Ick to the base. The darker spot of cells on it became visible as he did.
“I completely missed that before. How did you find it?”
“I didn’t, exactly. Not every khoron has that. It’s unique to Shurrath’s version.”
“Version?” Lutz asked.
“The Relyeh conquered the khoron a long time ago. They’ve been using them for thousands of years, but since the ancients don’t get along with one another they’ve modified the stock under their control to ensure they can’t switch sides. One of the reasons Shurrath spent so much time in hiding was because he needed to take the khoron Valentine captured and modify it to his specs, and then duplicate them. That’s high-end tech for Earth at that time and even today. No easy task. Even so, a strong enough signal through the Collective will cause that group of cells to burst, which will in turn kill the khoron.”
“How do we send a strong enough signal?” Lutz asked.
“We have to disrupt the balance between electrical stimulation and chemical reaction. A spike of either should do the trick.”
“It will also destroy the Ick,” Hess said.
“Pozz,” Natalia agreed. “We only get one shot.”
“How do you know about this?” Lutz said. “That’s some pretty specific information.”
“I recovered it from Shub-Nigu. He’s an Archive as much as an Artificer. Constantly tapping into Relyeh minds through the Collective, across the entirety of the universe. Trillions of minds.”
“That’s not possible,” Hess said.
“Define possible,” Natalia replied. “Because we don’t understand it means it can’t be so? I just passed through an alternate dimension to connect to a mind over ten thousand light years away.”
“Amazing,” Lutz said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And terrifying. Governor, I think maybe I should go in next time, instead of you. You’re pale as a ghost, and shaking.”
Natalia looked down at her hands. She hadn’t realized they were quivering as severely as they were. “No. You don’t know how to make the connection. I do. We can’t afford to get this wrong.”
“It might kill you.
”
“Didn’t we already have that discussion?”
Deputy Solino appeared in the doorway of the lab holding a tablet in his hand. “Governor. You’re okay,” he said, relieved. He stared at her, smiling nervously.
“What is it, Solino?” Natalia asked.
“Oh, right. We’ve got a drone feed from Chief Deputy Hicks in Sanose. The goliath is on sight.” He turned on the tablet. Immediately, a grainy, low-altitude view of the city appeared, the drone positioned above and behind the fighting.
The goliath was moving through the streets, swinging its arms into the buildings as it passed and searching for any sign of the population, which had already gone to ground. Trife scurried past it, moving from building to building searching for entries to the garages. Gunfire was audible through the feed, along with the grumbling of the giant and the hissing of the trife.
“Deputy Hicks, this is Governor Duke,” Natalia said. “Do you copy?”
“I copy, Nat,” Hicks replied. His voice was nearly inaudible past the sound of his firing plasma rifle. “We’re giving them everything we’ve got, but as you can see, it isn’t working.”
“What about the civilians?”
“In hiding. The garages are locked down as tight as we could make them, but they’ve managed to break into two already.” His voice lowered, dismayed. “Once they get in, it's over for anyone inside.”
“Chief, watch out!” someone shouted. Hicks grunted, and a loud report sounded across the feed.
“Hicks!” Natalia said. “Hicks?”
“Shit, that was close,” Hicks said. “Nat, our harassment isn’t doing shit to them, and we don’t have the firepower to stop Alpha. I don’t like it, but we need to hit him with the photon rocket.”
Natalia was afraid Hicks might ask for her to deploy the artillery.
“How long until Alpha reaches Sanisco?” she asked Solino.
“An hour at most,” he replied.
“Sanisco?” Hicks said. “Governor, people are dying here in Sanose.”
“I understand that. But if we can kill the khoron, it’ll release Shurrath’s hold on Alpha.”
