Extinction Plague: Matt Kearns 4

by Greig Beck

  The HAWC kit was for defensive purposes. It was hoped that their armor would protect them when they went in, grabbed their targets, and then pulled back to shelter while the air force obliterated the things on the surface.

  They wore battlefield combat armor plating that was a mix of titanium composite with some molded biological plating that was harder than steel. Theoretically, no standard small arms on this earth should have been able to puncture it.

  Maddock rolled his shoulders; the suits were heavy, and would have been impossibly cumbersome, except they were hydraulically supported. Inside their helmets they had good vision, but also computer-assisted analytics – they were basically flesh and blood warriors driving human-shaped tanks.

  The three HAWCs stood in fortified pits, with hatch tops thrown open. They knew what needed to be done, and which of their tasks were priority. It was boiled down to several key event steps: the swarm arrived, the net cannon fired, hopefully trapping one or more of the bugs underneath it. Then the HAWCs would emerge from their pits, with Vin and Klara going for the bugs, while Maddock gave them cover. Final step was to bring their captures back to the pit, seal themselves in, and let the air force thermo-blast the shit out of anything moving on the surface.

  “Stand ready,” Maddock said softly.

  He saw the swarm approaching. This time they didn’t come by wing, but like a boiling river of chitinous bodies that blackened the landscape. He could feel them through the soles of his boots – he’d been involved in heavy-combat traffic zones when they got charged by a thousand rebel fighters in Sudan, or a convoy of weaponized motorbikes in Syria, and each time the pounding on the ground felt like a herd of stampeding beasts coming at them.

  But this time, he actually heard them over his suit’s external mic. It wasn’t their footfalls, but the clatter and crush of their bodies as their scales and chitinous armor brushed up against one another.

  He didn’t feel fear, just a burning desire to get the job done. The odds didn’t matter. He knew he and his team made a difference, and bottom line was, anything that threatened him, his family, his home, or his country with deadly intent was to be taken down, and hard.

  “Here they come.” Maddock lowered himself down behind the lip of the pit, and Klara and Vin followed his lead. He counted down the seconds. And then …

  There came the triple boom of the three cannons firing at once and throwing the net over the front-runners of the approaching horde. As hoped, it flattened and captured several of them and the disturbance caused most of the others to change course as they scrabbled toward the now empty town in search of their prey.

  “Go, go, go!” Maddock yelled, and went up and over the lip of his pit.

  With a whine of the hydraulics in their suits the three HAWCs charged. Vin and Klara held titanium cable nets as they hurtled toward the first of the struggling creatures. Neither of the HAWCs looked at the other creatures, and relied on Maddock to throw a defensive shield over them.

  The first thing Maddock noticed was the silicoids were as big as a large man, and unbelievably the creatures were lifting the heavy mesh netting and even starting to stretch holes in it.

  Whether it was the movement, heat, or scent of the humans – something attracted the attention of some of the other creatures and they scuttled back toward them. When they were close they reared up, standing on their hind legs.

  Maddock felt a chill run up his spine as the alien-looking creatures now stood eye to eye with them. Multiple arms opened wide and shiny black claw-like hands with lethally pointed claws opened wide.

  “Get it done,” Maddock yelled to Vin and Klara and then lowered his shoulder and charged, ramming into the nearest rearing creature. The impact was heavy and hard, attesting to the weight of the things. Thankfully the crunch of armor came from the bug and not from his defensive suit.

  The huge HAWC then blasted, lasered, and even punched and kicked the silicoid bugs away from Vin and Klara. Many times they were wrestled to the ground, and the pointed proboscis tried to pierce their suits’ shielding to get at the soft flesh and bones beneath. But the suit integrity remained intact.

  Maddock pulled his shotgun, and blew one of the things backwards, where they skidded along the ground to simply right themselves up on multiple legs and charge again.

  “Hurry up,” he yelled and then chanced a glance over his shoulder at Vin and Klara. He saw they had bagged a single specimen that fought furiously within its confines, and were working on their next.

  “Got number two,” Vin finally yelled, as they moved to number three, the final specimen.

  There came a sound like someone strumming a giant harp, and Maddock saw the metal strands of the net being pulled apart. In another second one of the silicoids emerged to leap on Vin’s back and began scrabbling at his armor plating.

  Maddock also saw that the bugs they had captured wrestled furiously, and a single sharp claw poked through one of the capture bags.

  “Gonna lose ’em,” Maddock yelled.

  Maddock was crushed to the ground and covered by six of the things and brought down on one knee as they tried to burrow into him, using their long dexterous claws to pull on individual plates, and trying to work their hypodermic-like probes in between the joints. It was only a matter of time until they succeeded. And then once they found a weakness, they’d inject their salivary enzyme. After that he was finished.

  Maddock rammed one bug aside, grabbed another, and then took hold of one of its arms and yanked and bent. He felt the satisfying snap as the limb broke off in his hands. He managed to fight back to his feet. He engaged his mic.

  “Time’s up, the rain’s coming – get to the foxholes.” He punched down hard with his mech-assisted fist and it smashed into a silicon carapace. “Get those things back to the holes, we got incoming.”

  Vin and Klara dragged, pushed, and drew the two cable-tied creatures back to the pits, threw them in, and jumped in after them. They pulled the heavy steel lids down on top and sealed themselves in.

  Maddock sprinted to his pit. He went in and immediately turned to backhand a clinging bug and then used high-speed blasts from his shotgun to clear the field, as he pulled the lid down on top of himself.

  There came hammering on the steel lid, and in the darkness Maddock touched his mic. “Sir, we got two, and we have vacated the field. Over to you.”

  “It’ll have to do. Well done,” Hammerson said. And then: “Brace.”

  The first impacts made the ground shake around them, and were followed by a continued pounding like the beating of a titan’s drum. Then came the red wave, the rolling thunder as the thermo-blasts heated everything to over three thousand degrees.

  The HAWCs were six feet down, covered by a sheet of half-inch steel plate. Plus their armored suits were heavily resistant to heat. But they would still feel it, and would have to endure for the total burn-time, as the Earth’s surface above them became an inferno.

  Maddock felt his back start to singe first, and then rivulets of water ran down his body. Above him, the steel plate glowed orange and cast a hellish light down upon him. He kept his head down and both fists on the ground as though praying, but he was simply waiting it out.

  Maddock clamped his eyes shut, and then his mouth. Soft tissues were the first to be punished. Like all HAWCs, in the face of extreme pain or trauma, during torture or other battlefield-related hardship, he had been trained to take himself away, to transport himself from his body, and just let his mind take him to a place of calm and safety, perhaps a memory of a holiday, or home, but it was there he’d stay until the hardship was over. And if it were never over, then he’d simply stay in that place until heaven or hell called for him.

  The thunderous noise above shut off as quickly as it started. Maddock waited for a few more seconds and then lifted his head. His back felt tight and raw, and he was sure it was blistered. Smoke rose from the shoulders of his suit. Above him the steel was cooling to darkness and shadows ruled once again. />
  He flexed his hands, feeling the blisters across their backs, and knew his body would be covered. But it was a small price to pay for a successful mission.

  “It’s over,” he said into his mic, and looked up. “Gonna be damn hot. Get ready.”

  He raised himself up, and used a fist to punch the steel plate back. It opened and thumped down hard … on ash. The big HAWC stood and then whistled.

  Maddock turned his head, slowly taking it all in – there was nothing left. Everything that was, was no more: trees, houses, grass, and most of the roadways were all reduced to nothing. There were no small fires burning because everything combustible was already exhausted. If there were any dead bugs among it, he couldn’t tell.

  With a thump of steel plate, Vin and Klara rose from their foxholes. Maddock changed the vision spectrum in his helmet lenses to amplification and scanned the geography. “No sign of any bugs.” He leaned on the pit edge. “Bravo team to base, come in.”

  “We see you guys. How you holding up?” Hammerson asked.

  “Char-broiled and got a real good tan. But nothing a cold beer and an ice bath can’t fix. Any sign of the silicoids? Field looks clear down here,” he said.

  “A few stragglers, but for the most part that swarm has been obliterated. How are the samples?” Hammerson asked.

  Vin and Klara hauled one of the things upright and Maddock could see its arms still struggling against its binding.

  “Hot and pissed off, but still alive.” Maddock looked around. ”We are good for extraction.”

  “Bird on its way, Bravo team. See you soon.” Hammerson signed off.

  CHAPTER 42

  Central Scientific Research Institute, Ministry of Defense, Shchyolkovo, Moscow

  Chief Science Officer Mikhail Verinko met Rudolph Schneider at the security checkpoint and signed him in. Schneider was issued with a pass and followed the small Russian man to the secure elevator.

  Inside, Verinko pushed the button for the lower floor and then looked up at the imperious-looking German gentleman who carried himself with disdainful authority. He had an air of arrogance surrounding him like a cloud of expensive aftershave.

  “We appreciate your funding, and your offer to assist in the conditioning tests of the silachnids.” Verinko smiled innocently. “May I ask, what’s in it for you?”

  Schneider looked from the side of his eye at Verinko. “All I seek is a positive outcome to the tests. This is a global problem that requires a global solution, yes? And my understanding is you have extremely advanced facilities.”

  “Why did you not go to the Americans? After all, they are Germany’s allies and also have excellent facilities.” Verinko raised his eyebrows.

  “They are not my allies.” Schneider stopped and turned. “I despise the Americans.” He lifted his chin. “But I can still go to them if you would prefer.”

  Verinko, momentarily surprised by the venom in the man’s voice, shook his head. “No, I am happy and fortunate that you have chosen us.” He tilted his head. “Are you confident your discovery will stop the silachnids?”

  “Very. This substance I carry is based on an ancient formula derived from a race that successfully dealt with these creatures long ago.” Schneider looked away again. “It will work.”

  “Will you be sharing it?” Verinko asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to analyze the man. He could tell he was lying, but he didn’t quite know about what yet.

  “Yes and no.” Schneider smiled imperiously. “You can analyze the substance all you like, but its ingredients are, how would you say, out of this world.” He laughed darkly.

  “The substance is in that case?” Verinko looked down at the wooden case the German carried. It was a dark polished wood, antique and expensive looking. And squarer than a normal carrying case.

  “This?” Schneider held it up. “No, this is just some of my personal effects. You might call it my good luck talisman.”

  The elevator doors opened near silently, and Verinko pointed down a blinding white corridor.

  “We are all set up and waiting for you. You’ll need to dress in a specially secured bio-suit. Once done, we can commence immediately.”

  “Of course.” Schneider smiled beatifically. “Today will be a good day.”

  *

  Rudolph Schneider followed the scientist, making a concentrated effort to avoid small talk.

  Truth was, he probably had less respect and even more antipathy for Russians than he did for Americans. But he needed their laboratory facilities, and given what had happened to his own team, he needed them to assume the risks, especially the dangerous ones.

  If the tests were successful, he didn’t need to do anything more than walk out the door. The Russians would never be able to recreate the distilled moon rock solution, no matter how much they begged or threatened. And when he was ready, he’d have his army of obedient creatures march right into Red Square. And the White House – he suppressed his laugh – and perhaps even Buckingham Palace.

  Schneider thought he felt the wooden case in his hand jiggle. He smiled and wished he could open it.

  Someone was getting impatient, he thought. Soon. Soon they’d know if the world was to be theirs again. He could barely stop himself from laughing out loud.

  CHAPTER 43

  Lana’s eyes were wide and the color had drained from her face as she stared at the two creatures in the separated hermetically sealed rooms. Hammerson had his arms folded tight across his chest.

  With them was Klara Müller, who had stitches on her cheek and a mangled ear from the cave attack, plus iodine on multiple burns. There was also a blistered Roy Maddock, who was still acting as the lead agent on the overall mission.

  Matt marveled at these human beings and their ability to endure pain, and keep getting up to fight on. They are like a different species to the rest of us, he thought.

  He turned back to the specimens in their cells. No, these were the things that were the real different species. They were a ghastly remnant of a time long past in Earth’s history; one that should have remained locked away in some liquid subterranean tomb. Perhaps they would have been the rulers of the world if things had been different all those countless millions or billions of years ago.

  “So, just how smart are they now?” Matt turned.

  “Right now?” Lana continued to stare, as if transfixed. “Smarter than a dog or a chimp. But not as smart as a person, we think.”

  “Can they talk?” Klara asked.

  “Talk? No. But communicate? Most likely, just not as we know it.” Lana turned to face the group. “They make buzzes and clicks and some other noises we can detect, so maybe they communicate with their own kind. But their ferocity and predator behavior doesn’t exactly lend itself to dialogue. With us, anyway.”

  Hammerson turned to Matt. “You’re the linguist. Do you think you could talk to them?”

  Matt inhaled deeply and let it out slowly through his nose. “Unlikely. It’d be more like a computer code than a language. We could try signing, mathematics, symbols, and the usual first start tools we have. But I don’t think we’d be able to. We’re too different to communicate meaningfully.”

  “Who was it that said that it was madness for sheep to try and talk peace with a wolf?” Maddock stared in at the bound creatures.

  Lana nodded. “But they’re smart, I can feel it.”

  The others turned to watch the creatures through the glass. In the sealed but separated rooms, the two beings were tied to upright steel tables with their segmented torsos, multiple limbs and head strapped securely down.

  Even with the binding, one of them managed to slowly turn its head to stare back out at the humans. Its gaze was mesmerizing.

  “Look at the eyes,” Klara whispered.

  They were large, round and fist-sized, with pupils like those of a human. And those dark pupils seemed to bore into the group with a dispassionate interest.

  “They’re studying us, as we study them,” Hammerson
said.

  “The difference is, we’re about to try and kill them,” Lana responded.

  Hammerson turned slowly. “Damn right we are. Because that thing and all its buddies are consuming every man, woman, child, dog and pony they can get close to.”

  Klara bared her teeth for a moment. “Well, I just hope it’s painful.” She turned. “When do we start the test?”

  “Now.” Lana held up a hand to a group of lab technicians waiting close by. They were wearing full biohazard suits and began to gather their materials.

  “We have two tests planned: the first is an on-contact test of the fungal spores planted directly onto the exoskeleton of the specimen TX001. The second test is an aerosol dispersal into the room of the specimen TX002.”

  Lana leaned forward to type a few commands into a computer on the desk before her and then straightened. “And so, we begin.” She turned and nodded to the first two suited-up technicians. “Commencing first test … now.”

  The technicians first entered an antechamber, and as the group watched, they moved to a back door that opened into the room of specimen TX001. One of the technicians held what looked like a cattle prod, and the other approached the creature with a small bottle with an eyedropper in the top.

  The silicoid became aware of them, and started to struggle against its bonds. From its proboscis it looked like a fleshy flower bloomed, and then a long dart like tongue extended as through trying to spear one of the technicians as they got closer.

  “That’s how it feeds – it latches on and then using that spear-like tongue to inject its saliva. Then it simply sucks up the liquid remains,” Lana said.

  “We’ve seen the results – horrible,” Matt replied.

  “Administering solution of fungal spores suspended in solution,” came a voice over the speaker. There was a slight quaver in the tone.