Slave Mind

by Rob Dearsley

  Nearly fifty internal stitches. Stars, that was bad, more than she’d ever had before. She was out the door and drifting across the bay before he could say more. She still felt weak, and her side ached.

  ◊◊

  “Ambrose is falling back to the inner worlds.”

  Samantha could see it happening on the holographic display. The lead ships were almost done hammering the last of Gypsum IV’s satellites into oblivion. Four habitats and dozens of smaller stations and relays – millions of lives – gone.

  Hells.

  “Do we have any idea who these people are?” the First Minister demanded.

  “Sorry, sir. We’re picking up com traffic between the ships, but it’s all encrypted. LIDAR profiles and hull marking don’t match anything on record.”

  Samantha ignored them, watching the system display on the hologram.

  The bulk of the population were in the inner system, on the two habitable worlds and their moons.

  Slipways flickered open on the far side of the system as starliners, transports and any other ship capable of holding passengers fled. Hundreds of thousands of ships, carrying millions of people.

  And it was a drop in the ocean.

  “Sirs,” the tech called. “Message from Habitat V-Sigma. They believe they can use their reactor cores to destroy the attacking ships.”

  Samantha searched for the station on the display. There it was, one of the older habitats. She brought up the specs on her flex. “There are over a million people on that station.”

  Hawthorne looked over at her, his eyes hooded and tired. “I know. But there are still forty-odd-billion people in this system.”

  “The greater good?” The words burned like bile in her throat. “Will it even work?”

  “The station can eject the reactors. The attacking ships should be within range.”

  Samantha looked over to the First Minister. He just nodded back. Bloody git was passing the buck onto her. “We can’t ask these people to kill themselves for ‘should be’.” She struggled to keep her voice level.

  On the hologram, the enemy ships moved toward Habitat V-Sigma, their callouts flashing red as they fired. The blue callouts for the SDF ships were already further in-system, a ragged formation of cruisers around the Pavel.

  “Ma’am.” Hawthorne placed a hand on her arm and meeting her eyes. “It’s now or never. They’re dead anyway. Ambrose is out of position to help. The best we can do is spend their deaths well.”

  Stars damn it. Damn it to all the starless hells. She closed her eyes, imagining she could see the people on that station. “Do it.”

  They were all damned now.

  She tuned out the buzz of relayed orders as the desperate attack was put in motion.

  Two enemy ships had moved in to attack – no, destroy – the habitat. They didn’t have any optical feed this time, so she could only imagine the missiles ripping into the station. A moment later the display flickered, the area around the habitat dissolving into a three-dimensional blob of static.

  A million lives gone, on her orders.

  The static slowly receded, revealing the callouts for the enemy ships.

  “Did we get them?” The First Minister asked.

  Samantha glared at him. He should have taken the decision, not left it to her.

  “Scans coming in now,” the tech called. “No power readings from the lead ship. It’s dead in the water.”

  A round of cheers went up around the room. Samantha didn’t join in, her eyes glued to the now greyed-out callout from the dead station.

  “What about the other ship?” Hawthorne demanded.

  “Negative sir. Second ship is still operational.”

  Damn it. Samantha pushed up from the holotable. It wasn’t enough. They’d thrown everything they had at the ships and it wasn’t enough. What did they even want? Why here? Why them? They’d not made any demands, not communicated at all.

  A soft, cultured voice cut through the room. “This is how it starts.”

  Samantha whipped around to find a young man in a plane blue business suit stood off to one side. She’d not seen him come in, but he was so quiet and unassuming he could have been there the whole time, unnoticed. Was he a Spook? She’s never seen one in real life.

  Hawthorne rounded on him. “Do you know something about this? You have as much to lose as the rest of us.”

  The man blinked, his eyes refocussing on Hawthorne. For a moment, he looked like someone just waking from sleep. “I’m sorry, Commander. Information is need to know.”

  Hawthorne waved a hand at the console, where the ships descended further into the system. “I bloody well need to know!”

  “No,” the Spook said, “you don’t. Not yet.”

  Samantha placed a hand on Hawthorn's arm before he could respond. “This is way over our heads.”

  Hawthorne glared at the man and for a moment Samantha thought he was going to grab the Spook. Then he relented and turned back to the holotable.

  “Sir,” the tech reported. “Ambrose is being pushed back into orbit of Gypsum II. Enemy ships will be in weapons range in ten minutes.”

  “Hells.” Hawthorne growled. “We need to get to the bunker with the rest of the Senate.”

  Samantha started for the door, a squad of SDF troopers falling in around her and the First Minister. Their hard-shell gleamed in the overhead lights. The hard, aggressive angles of their rifles did little to comfort Samantha. What would eight troopers do if one of those ships started throwing artillery at them?

  ◊◊

  The Folly hurtled down through Gypsum IIc’s atmosphere, plunging into the thick layer of cloud cover.

  Dannage watched water bead up on the screen as the Folly dropped through the cloud layer. The clouds peeled back to reveal the capital beneath them. All glass spires and domes stretching up into the cloud base.

  HUD enhancements picked out starliners and transport ships lifting off. Beneath them, crowds scrambled into the back of a big, boxy cargo haulier, Sheridan class, if Dannage didn’t miss his guess. The moon was in full evacuation.

  “How long have we got?” he asked.

  “Maybe ten minutes on the lead ships,” Luc replied.

  Shells screamed past the Folly to slam into the city below them. One hit the Sheridan, turning it into a ball of flame.

  “Or not.”

  Dannage scanned through his readouts. That signal had come from the spacescraper just to their right. He brought the Folly around and scanned the area. There had to be somewhere he could put down.

  A small plaza flashed up on the HUD. That would have to do, and it was just across the road from the heavily buttressed base of the spacescraper. He brought the Folly around and down as another volley of Terran weapons fire slammed into the city, shattering the chromed vista.

  Dannage was up and out of the pilot’s chair before the Folly had finished settling onto her struts. “Hale, Luc, with me. We get in, grab Sam, and get gone.”

  Luc’s hand clamped on his arm, halting his momentum. “Cap’n, we can’t just rush headlong into this. And I don’t think we should take Hale.”

  “Why not. If— no, when the Terrans make planet-fall, we’ll need all the backup we can get.”

  “Maybe,” Luc countered, his voice low. “But at the moment, speed is our best advantage. Having to explain Hale to the locals could…” He waved in the big Terran’s direction.

  “Fine,” Dannage said, his jaw tense. “But we can’t take Arland.”

  “I’m here, sir.”

  He turned to see Arland walk onto the bridge. Stars, she looked pale, almost ghostly, and she leaned against the bulkhead. He couldn’t take her, not like that. She’d been nearly dead less than an hour ago. Images of her in that crumpled space suit flashed through his mind. He couldn’t see her like that again.

  Damn it.

  “Captain.” She reached out to place a hand on his arm. “I’ll be fine.”

  He shook his head. “If everyth
ing goes sideways, I need someone on board who can fly the Folly.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  Well, he didn’t like how pale she looked, or the way she kept her left arm up, protecting her side. The memory of twisted plastic and torn flesh was almost enough to undo him.

  He couldn’t let that happen to Sam. He wouldn’t, by the Stars he would get her out of this mess.

  A mess he’d created.

  “Come on, Luc.”

  But Luc was already ahead of him, pushing off into the cargo hold.

  “Stay safe,” Arland said, as Dannage jumped toward the weapons locker.

  A few horribly long minutes later, Dannage and Luc had the access ladder in place. Dannage jumped onto it and slid down, bracing his feed on the outside.

  Luc landed a beat behind him, and Dannage turned toward the low barrier that separated the plaza from the road and almost crashed into a young SDF office. His blue uniform still crisp and clean, his eyes too wide and his movements erratic.

  The officer fumbled a salute. “We’re evacuating the system. They came from nowhere and just started shooting.”

  “I know,” Dannage said, grabbing the man’s shoulders. “We’re here to evacuate the senators. Take us to them. Now.”

  The kid stumbled back. “But— no. They’re going to the bunker.”

  “Damn it, man. It won’t help. They need to get off-world. Take us to them. Please. Just help me.”

  A Terran missile crashed through a nearby domed building, ripping it apart in a wash of torn, burning metal. The shockwave buffeted them, almost knocking Dannage from his feet. Further away, more missiles smashed into buildings. Fires painted the night sky an angry red.

  “You can get the senators off-world?” the officer asked.

  Dannage met the younger man’s eyes. “Yes. But only if you take me to them before it’s too late.”

  “Okay.” The officer hurried across the road.

  The foyer was a wide space that ran almost half the width of the spacescraper’s base. A maisonette balcony looked down on the polished floor and glass frontage. The grandiose sweep of a reception desk filled the middle third of the room.

  “The senators will be in the bunker.” The officer pointed to a pair of heavy doors to the right of the reception desk. “This way. Quick!”

  Now he wanted to rush. Dannage couldn’t help but smile. The clatter of hurried footsteps came around the curve of the room.

  A squad of six SDF troopers hurried across the room, the lights glinting off their black hard-shell. Flashes of red velvet came from between the troopers, dark curly hair falling over the senatorial robes.

  Dannage’s breath caught in his throat and for a moment he thought his legs might give way. “Sammy?” he started toward them, the rifle in his hands forgotten.

  Their guards turned, their weapons snapping up.

  “Sammy?” Stars, he begged, please let it be her. It has to be her.

  “Stand down,” snapped a familiar voice, and then she was there, pushing her way through the troopers toward him. “Mike?”

  The sight of her, standing there, looking all smart and proper just like always, was almost enough to bring him to his knees. A fall of midnight hair went past her shoulders, loose strands falling over her face.

  She absently pushed the stray hairs behind her ear. “Mike, why the hells are you here?”

  Stars, he couldn’t lose her. Wouldn’t. He ran to her, pulling her into a fierce embrace.

  “Mike, Mike!” she choked out. He relaxed his grip but didn’t let her go. “We don’t have time for this. The rest of the Senate is already in the bunker. We’re heading there now.”

  “No.” He held her at arm’s length. “It won’t help. You need to come with me, right now. Before they get here.”

  She searched his eyes, as though she could find the answers she wanted there. “You know what’s going on. Who they are. Don’t you?”

  “We don’t have time,” he parroted her words back to her. “They’re already in orbit. We’ve got to go.”

  She pulled from his grip, giving him an arch look. “I’ve not seen you in ten years – ten years – and you show up out of nowhere and expect me to play along without any explanation?”

  Luc came up behind them. “Miss Dannage, the cap’n’s right. Terrans are already in orbit. There ain’t nowhere safe on this moon.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Terrans? Luc Danes, you tell me, right now, what have the pair of you gotten us into?”

  “It wasn’t our fault.” Dannage reached for her again, but she pulled back. “Please, we have to go. Please.”

  An older SDF officer moved out from the cluster of troopers. “They’re right. Hells, you saw what they did to the outer habitats.”

  A dull boom rattled the windows, sending dust raining down on them.

  “What was that?” the young officer asked, his voice high and tight.

  “The Old Ones come.” Dannage knew that banal voice. It was the bloody Spook from Kyanite. What was that muppet doing here? Had he somehow known they’d come here? Were they playing him?

  Before any of them could react, Dannage grabbed the Spook, pressing his pistol into the man’s chin.

  All around him the troopers shouted, pointing their guns. He was peripherally aware of Sammy shouting them down, warning them not to fire.

  “What do you want?” Dannage snapped.

  The man shrugged, seemingly disinterested in the gun pressed into the underside of his chin, his eyes distant. “We must meet with them. Ours is the only solution.”

  “You mean the Terrans? Why?” Dannage ground the gun into the man’s throat.

  “There is so much you don’t understand. Only we have seen a way through what is to come. It is here. The fulcrum around which humanity’s fate will turn.” The last was recited, someone else’s words.

  “Mike, bloody well put him down.” Sammy gestured to the troopers. “You two, get to the bunker and get the others.”

  “Starless night,” the young officer swore. “What is that?”

  Dannage rushed to the windows. Firelight flickered off the reinforced glass and…

  Stars above.

  The missile was the size of a small tower block, easily three times the length of the Folly. Dannage couldn’t quite process the sight. All he could think was, why was it so big?

  “Bloody hells,” Sammy said, suddenly beside him. “Run!”

  Her words galvanised the others and they sprinted for the main doors.

  “Folly’s in the courtyard on the other side of the road,” Dannage said as he slammed through the door. The roar of battle and the stink of smoke hit him with an almost physical force. A wing of Combined Aerospace Fighters whipped overhead, their atmo turbines screaming as they made an attack run on the missile.

  Luc and Sammy were a beat behind Dannage, SDF guys just behind them.

  The missile crashed into the side of the spacescraper and Dannage’s world turned into a maelstrom of fire.

  ◊◊

  Stars, Dannage hurt. Sharp pains shot up his up his arms as he pushed himself up and looked around. Where was Sammy?

  He tried to speak but wound up coughing. “Sammy! Sam, where are you?”

  “Here,” a voice called. Dannage recognised the SDF Commander who’d been with Sammy.

  He crawled toward them pushing rubble aside. “Is she-?” No damn it. He wasn’t going to lose her.

  She rolled onto her side coughing. Thank the Stars.

  He pulled her into his arms.

  “Cap’n?”

  “Over here.” He pulled an arm away from Sammy to wave to Luc. He’d be damned if he was going to let her go, ever.

  SDF troopers pulled themselves up. It looked like they’d all made it. Even the damn Spook.

  Overhead the spacescraper crumbled. That missile had taken it somewhere around the hundredth floor, leaving a huge gouge in the side. As he watched, the upper half of the building twisted, tearing itself
away from the lower section in an almost graceful, slow motion tumble.

  There was a dull boom, loud enough to be heard over the sound of battle. Dannage recognised the sound. It was something he’d hoped to never hear again.

  “What was that?” the Senator asked, straightening his gold-trimmed robes.

  “Displacement shock,” Dannage replied, already pulling Sammy around and starting toward the courtyard where the Folly waited. “A capital ship just hit the atmosphere. Hard.”

  Before he’d finished speaking, the bulky form of a Terran ship dropped through the cloud and smoke. Its hull still glowing from the heat of entry. One of the massive missiles was missing from beneath its stubby wings.

  A wing of CAFs screamed in, but it was like flies attacking a tank. The Terran ship ignored them. Instead, it sent artillery fire down into the ground around them in a cacophonous roar.

  Dannage was more concerned with the smaller, darker forms. Were the Turned really jumping from the ship? Could they even survive a drop like that?

  He met Luc’s eyes. If the Turned caught them in the open, they were dead. “Move people!”

  Even as he turned, the first warbling scream erupted from nearby, moments later joined by another.

  Several troopers fell in around the senator, Luc leading the way toward the Folly.

  A trooper aimed his rifle toward the sound. “I’ll hold the rear.”

  “Don’t be a damn hero.” Dannage grabbed the back of the man’s harness, pulling him along with them. “They’ll kill you without breaking stride.”

  They sprinted across the road. Behind them, Dannage could hear SDF weapons fire, shortly followed by a more human screaming. He didn’t want to think about what was happening, but his mind was all too keen to furnish him with images of SDF trooper being ripped apart.

  Sammy dropped with a cry of pain. Dannage spun, his gun up like it would do any good. They were alone, for the moment.

  He pulled her up, eliciting another cry of pain as she put weight on her right leg. Crap.

  Another Turned scream, painfully loud.

  He got an arm under her shoulders and started toward the low-slung form of the Folly. They were nearly there.