VOR 03 Island of Power

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  “Shit,” Cort said, glancing at the motion sensor he now carried around his chest. “We’ve got company.”

  “Pharons?” Hank asked.

  “Looks like it. They’re coming in over the west sky bridge. Looks like eight of them.”

  Hank didn’t know what to say. The west bridge just wasn’t that far from where they stood at that moment. The entire sky-bridge floor was like a giant ring above the generator below. And the four bridges were like four spokes off that ring, equally spaced apart. They had come up onto the ring between the south and west bridges.

  “Run for it!” Cort ordered. “South sky bridge. Dr. Bogle, get Dr. Lee across that bridge. Quick.”

  The entrance to the south bridge was a good hundred paces away, and it was going to take at least another hundred running paces to get across it. And two of their men were still a short distance down the ramp and racing upward as hard as possible.

  They were all going to be sitting ducks the moment those Pharons got across the bridge and onto the ring.

  Without another look at the opening of the west sky bridge, Hank turned Stephanie toward the south bridge and they took off running.

  “We need to slow the Pharons down!” Cort said, as he and Waters took up sprawled positions on the transparent surface, rifles aimed at the west sky-bridge entrance, covering everyone else.

  Marva was the last up the ramp and dived to sprawl out beside Cort, also aiming at the entrance as Stanton ran for the bridge behind Hank.

  Hank glanced over his shoulder. From the position of Cort and his three men, they had open shots at the mouth of the west sky bridge, but not all the way down it.

  And that same angle was keeping the Pharons from firing at them at the moment. But the blockade would quickly go away.

  “Dr. Downer,” Cort said over the commlink, “would you ask Dr. Edaro if he thinks we dare fire a few grenades?”

  “Edaro?” Hank shouted to the scientist running about twenty paces ahead of him across the sky bridge. “Any danger of using grenades back there?”

  “Who knows!” Edaro shouted back as he ran. “But don’t kill any Sand.”

  “I don’t see how we can not fire,” Hank said to Cort over the link. “Edaro says just don’t kill Sand.”

  “Understood,” Cort said. “Vasquez, get those civilians up those stairs.”

  Hank reached the other side of the sky bridge and stopped, taking up a position against the right wall, where he could watch what was happening behind him. Everyone else kept running toward the staircase as Cort had ordered. Stanton went past him without even a slight hesitation, open fear in his eyes.

  Cort, Marva, and Waters all lay on the transparent surface of the ring, waiting, rifles aimed at the west sky bridge.

  Hank had no doubt that it would be only seconds before the Pharons would appear.

  “On my mark,” Cort ordered, “I want three frag grenades on that sky bridge. Then we get our asses out of here before they have a chance to fire back.”

  All of them stood.

  “Get ready,” Cort said.

  Hank aimed his rifle down the sky bridge and at the entrance to the west bridge.

  “Now!” Cort ordered.

  As a unit all three took one step forward and hit the bridge entrance with three perfect lobs.

  Without waiting to watch, they turned and sprinted across the transparent surface of the south bridge toward Hank.

  Hank stood his ground, rifle aimed beyond them, covering them. Luckily he couldn’t see anything to fire at yet.

  He hoped the grenades would slow the Pharons down. Otherwise, Cort and his two men would be sitting ducks on the bridge.

  The concussion from the grenade explosions knocked the three soldiers to the hard, invisible surface of the bridge. For an instant Hank thought they were falling the full twenty stories to the street below, but then they rolled and came back up running, without even seeming to break stride.

  “Marva, Dr. Downer,” Cort ordered. “Covering fire.”

  Hank did as he was ordered, firing one shot after another across the sky bridge, even though he saw no Pharons.

  Beside him Private Marva, his dark hair slick with sweat and dirt, was doing the same. The noise was deafening, but it was nothing compared to the blood pounding in Hank’s chest and his labored breathing.

  He just kept firing. Spacing his shots, until the clip was empty. Then he jammed in another and kept at it.

  “Waters,” Cort shouted about fifty steps from the staircase opening, “cover Marva and Dr. Downer! Marva, Doctor, swing wide out of the line of fire and get your asses over here.”

  Hank was on his feet and took three steps out of the way to his right before Waters opened up, firing back down the tunnel just as he and Marva had done. Hank had no idea if Waters could see something, or was just firing as he had done, but he didn’t stop to find out.

  He just kept running, leaping over and around debris.

  Fifty paces. Thirty paces. Twenty more steps and he was at the entrance.

  Cort was behind some debris near the blocked open door, rifle up, ready to cover his men.

  Hank went through the doorway, got down low, and stuck his head and rifle back out to try to help lay down covering fire.

  “Waters, get back here now!” Cort ordered, firing down the tunnel as Marva came running on the right, out of the direct line of the bridge, and took up a position next to Cort.

  Waters rolled and came up on the left, also running out of the line of fire.

  On the other side of the bridge Hank could see that one Pharon was down, but his golden armor was still moving. Probably just wounded in some fashion or another.

  Two other Pharons had weapons up, ready to fire.

  Hank aimed at the one on the right and emptied his entire clip at the figure.

  Cort fired at the one on the left.

  The noise was fearsome.

  The smell of the gun firing clogged his nose.

  His focus was only on the Pharons.

  On killing them.

  He emptied a second clip and replaced it, firing again.

  The Pharon Hank was aiming at spun around, obviously hit, but then got ready again to fire.

  Hit, but not killed.

  The damn Pharons were hard to knock down, that was for sure.

  Hank emptied another clip at the gruesome-looking thing, then ducked back inside the door to load a new clip. And get out of the way as Marva dived through.

  Waters was right behind him, rolling across the floor.

  Marva took Hank’s previous position and started firing.

  The next moment Cort took a running dive at the door as a blast of flame exploded in the large room, sending Marva rolling backward and hurling Hank back against the wall.

  The wind was knocked out of him.

  An instant later Cort came diving through the door. His jacket was singed and smoking, and his face looked slightly burnt, but he was alive.

  “Up the stairs!” Cort shouted. “Quick. Marva, hit them with a couple of grenades. Keep ’em guessing.”

  “Got it,” Marva said just as another energy-weapon blast lit up the room outside the stairwell.

  Cort tried to push himself up, but his legs didn’t seem to be working.

  Hank grabbed hold of Cort and pulled him to his feet. Waters took hold of Cort on one side and Hank supported the other, then the three started up the stairs as Marva fired grenades at the advancing Pharons with his Bulldog.

  They had made it up almost twenty steps in the dark when the first grenade went off, followed by five or six more in quick succession.

  “That ought to hold them off for a minute,” Marva said over the commlink.

  “Let’s hope so,” Hank said. “We’re going to need all the minutes we can get.”

  “I don’t think you know how true that is,” Cort said. “Those damn things are hard to kill.”

  At the moment all Hank could think about was carrying Cort and get
ting up the stairs.

  Fast.

  This was the first firefight he’d ever been in. He had a sneaking hunch it wasn’t going to be his last that day.

  22

  Time: 5:43 P . M . Pacific Time

  16 hours, 12 minutes after Arrival

  The Pharon high priest strode across the sky bridge as his soldiers ahead of him fought the creatures back and into the stairwell of the nearby building. Those creatures, their smooth skin disgusting to him, were proving hard to kill. That annoyed him. He hated anything that stood in his way.

  He killed anything that stood in his way.

  The creatures had slowed his progress and destroyed beyond saving many of his soldiers, and for that they would pay. This entire planet crawling with them would pay.

  “The creatures are moving up the stairwell in the neighboring building.”

  “How many did you kill?”

  “None.”

  He did not like the answer, but at the moment he could do nothing about it.

  He moved through the smoke from the battle to the edge of the ring that looked down over the central area of the large building.

  Far below him, his goal stood. The phase generator, large enough to transport this entire asteroid. It had been a long time since he had last stood there. The city had jumped hundreds of times since he had first discovered this treasure. He always escaped only barely before the city jumped, but had come away with enough information to know that recovering the secrets of the massive machine below would advance the cause of his people.

  And his place in the rank.

  So now he had returned.

  Finally.

  The sustaining fluids pumped reassuringly through his body as he studied his goal. Thanks to the smooth-skinned creatures’ annoying interference, once more he only had a short time to learn the generator’s secrets. But there was still enough.

  He turned to his soldiers and ordered four of them to follow the creatures. “Kill them. Bring me their bodies to use their fluids.”

  The four, without a response, turned and headed after the fleeing creatures. Those fair-skinned animals had destroyed too many of his soldiers for his liking. And their puny aircraft had bothered his ship almost from the moment he had landed. But he had kept his focus on his goal, which now lay before him.

  He motioned for three of his warriors to follow him down toward the massive phase generator below. He had very little time and much to learn.

  And when he had gotten what he came for, he would take the fluids of those fair-skinned creatures and destroy this planet.

  23

  Time: 6:14 P . M . Pacific Time

  16 hours, 43 minutes after Arrival

  “Get everyone across the sky bridge and hold for us there,” Cort said into his commlink as they reached the fifth landing.

  Vasquez came up and took over for Hank in supporting Cort, who seemed to be slowly regaining sensation in his legs. But not enough yet to walk on his own. Cort was also burnt in a number of places, but the burns weren’t life-threatening as far as Hank could tell. Stephanie would be able to do something when they caught up with her.

  They paused on the landing just long enough for Hank to get the motion detector off Cort and hand it to Marva, who had come up behind them. From what Marva reported, four Pharons were coming after them, now starting up the stairs five flights below. Four others had split off and were headed down the ramps toward the lower level and the giant phase generator. It didn’t look as if any of them had been killed in the fighting. But Hank knew he had hit one pretty good.

  “I just hope they don’t go shooting Sand too fast,” Cort said, when Marva gave him the update. “We’ve got to get off this damned island first.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Hank said. “Come on. Dr. Peters will take a look at you in about five floors.”

  Vasquez and Waters supported Cort between them, Hank trailing ten steps behind. Marva held back twenty paces, then followed.

  By the time they reached the sky-bridge level and crossed to where the others were waiting, the Pharons had made it to the fourth floor below them. Mummy-wrapped and encased in armor, the Pharons were slower than they were, but not much.

  And they had a ship out there somewhere. Hank just hoped the Union planes were keeping it busy. Damn busy.

  Stephanie took one look at Cort being carried across the bridge and rushed up to meet them the moment they were off the transparent surface.

  She did a quick scan of Cort, then gave him a shot. “Painkiller,” she said. “Won’t knock you out.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Cort said, but didn’t ask what was wrong with his legs. Hank was thinking the guy must be made of metal. He was impressed.

  Marva glanced down at the motion detector. “Alien clearing the fourth floor below us.”

  “We’ve got to get down lower,” Cort said. “I’m betting it was the Pharon ship that took out Sergeant Malone. And we’re high enough here for them to do it to us, too.”

  “I agree,” Hank said. “Let me see if I can figure out the best way to go.”

  He turned and at a fast run headed across the large room toward the far side of the building, dodging in and out of debris as he went.

  “Stay with the doctor, Marva,” Cort ordered over the commlink. Hank wanted to say there was no point. He wasn’t going very far, but he knew Cort was just doing his job. And doing it right, even though he was injured.

  There was no point in their going down if they were still inside the barricade. And he bet they weren’t out of it yet. The best way to find out was just to look. When he reached the east edge of the building, he could see almost directly down to the street through the transparent wall. The barricade was one more block over to the east, but right below them to the south. Three floors up was a sky bridge to the next building south.

  He scanned the sky beyond the tall buildings. No sign of the Pharon ship or any Union planes.

  He flipped on the commlink. “Three floors up and across the bridge and we’re out of the barricade.”

  He turned back toward the stairwell at a full run, just as Marva caught up to him.

  “Let’s move out, people,” Cort ordered. “Up the stairwell three floors.”

  By the time Hank got there, Vasquez was waiting for him and Marva, giving them cover.

  It took them only five minutes to scramble up the three flights of stairs and across the sky bridge. But it seemed like it was a very long five minutes.

  As Hank ran across the transparent sky bridge, he could see the massive pile of debris blocking the street far below. Finally, they were outside the barricade. He could feel the relief. Being inside the barrier had made him feel trapped.

  But at the moment they were still far too high in the air. The lower they got, the safer they would be from attack by the Pharon ship.

  Ahead two men were still basically carrying Cort. They all stopped at the staircase door as Cort ordered Waters and Jenkins down to secure the stairs.

  Behind them, Marva said that the Pharons had crossed the first sky bridge and were heading up the last three floors. Hank couldn’t believe they could almost keep up with them. But they were.

  “Those guys are faster than I thought they would be,” Bogle said.

  “And we still have a lot of floors to get down,” Stephanie said. “Down is sometimes harder than up.”

  Hank knew that.

  “Jenkins, I’m starting the civilians down,” Cort said. “As fast as they can go. Stay ahead of them.”

  “Copy,” Jenkins said.

  “Go, people,” Cort ordered.

  Quickly, Bogle, Lee, Edaro, and Stephanie passed through the door into the staircase and then down. Hank hesitated, waiting to see if he could help any.

  “We’re going to have to make a stand here,” Cort said, leaning on Marva. “Buy us some time. Maybe even blow that sky bridge. Hawk, set the shaped charges to take out the sky bridge. Vasquez, give him cover.”

  Both no
dded, and Hawk ran for the bridge entrance, digging explosives out of a pack as he went.

  “May I suggest you get down the stairs, too,” Hank said. “You’re going to be slow.”

  Cort started to object, then nodded, knowing Hank was right. He glanced over at where Vasquez covered Hawk. “You two about ready?”

  Hawk finished setting the charges and ran back to take cover beside Vasquez. “Ready.”

  Suddenly the staircase door on the other side of the sky bridge opened and two Pharon soldiers moved out into the open. Even from this distance, Hank could see the beautiful golden armor and huge, sparkling jewels embedded in them.

  And the gray, rotting faces.

  Dead faces.

  He had his rifle up and ready to fire.

  “Don’t shoot,” Cort ordered.

  Hank held his fire, though he wanted to pull the trigger more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. Those rotting faces would haunt his nightmares for a long, long time if he ever got out of this alive.

  The two Pharon foot soldiers advanced toward them, moving slowly but steadily.

  “Frag grenades down the bridge,” Cort ordered. “Then open fire.”

  Cort motioned for Hank to help him through the door into the staircase.

  Hank put his rifle over his shoulder and did as Cort asked.

  “Now!” Cort shouted, as he and Hank cleared the door.

  Hawk and Vasquez stood and threw at the same moment.

  The grenades rebounded once off the wall of the bridge, and like good pool shots, bounced at the two Pharons on the other side before exploding.

  The concussion hurt Hank’s ears, but he ignored it. He watched the dust rising in the other building, filling the space.

  “Pump them in there,” Hank said.

  One after another, Hawk and Vasquez lobbed grenades onto the bridge.

  Explosion after explosion followed.

  The smoke and dust were pouring out of the near side of the bridge by then, filling the room and blocking their view of the Pharons.

  “Into the stairwell!” Cort ordered. “Everyone. Now!”

  Vasquez and Hawk did a quick, crouched run the twenty steps to the open door and went through right behind Marva, Cort, and Hank.