Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude)

by Simon R. Green

  Hunter looked at her closely, shocked, taking in the changes in her face since he’d last seen her. She’d definitely lost weight, and her bone structure was prominent almost to the point of emaciation. She stood awkwardly, and her stance was… different somehow. Changed. The marines hadn’t noticed, because the changes had been slow and subtle, but they were clear enough now that Hunter was looking for them.

  “How much longer can you stay here?” he asked softly. “Before the changes become … dangerous.”

  “I don’t know. My esp makes me vulnerable, but you’ll need that to help you find the device’s weak spots. If it has any. The great device has survived for centuries without outside care or maintenance. It’s bound to have self-defence mechanisms. I’m not even sure it can be destroyed with our feeble weapons. But we have to try.” She looked around her. “There’s a ramp nearby that leads up into the heart of the device. I think our best bet would be to plant our remaining explosives in the middle of the tower, or as close as we can get, and then make our escape on the pinnace before they blow.” She looked at Hunter. “We’d better get moving, Captain. We don’t have much time.”

  Hunter nodded soberly. “All right then, esper; lead the way. Investigator, you follow right behind her. Shoot anything that even looks threatening. The marines and I will bring up the rear. Shields on, guns and swords at the ready. Let’s go, people.”

  DeChance moved confidently through the warren of enigmatic shapes, and stepped onto a simple ramp that led up into the heart of the machine. The rest of the Squad followed. Strange forms came and went around them as they trudged up the ramp, and Hunter began to feel like an insect that had become trapped in the workings of a machine it couldn’t hope to understand. There was a kind of sense, of meaning, to the great device, but he could only recognise it without appreciating it. There were lights and sounds, and sudden rises and falls in temperature, and none of it made any sense.

  The ramp wound between layers of shimmering crystal, and static sparked on the air. Hunter’s headache grew worse, and his stomach felt increasingly uneasy. No doubt some of it was due to tension, but he couldn’t help wondering how much of it might be caused by the device, and how long it would be before his body began changing, like DeChance’s.

  Metallic tentacles suddenly swung down from above, like writhing snakes. They seemed endless in the unsteady light, and they were tipped with reaching clawed hands. The Squad got their force shields up just in time, and the razor-sharp claws recoiled from the glowing energy fields. More tentacles came reaching out of nowhere, striking and retreating with inhuman speed. Hunter tried his sword against one of them, and the hilt jarred painfully in his hand as the steel blade sprang away without leaving a mark. The marines fired their guns, but the tentacles moved too quickly even for their experienced reflexes. The Investigator had used the edge of her shield to sever one tentacle, but the remaining tentacles avoided the shield’s edges. It seemed they learned quickly. Blood flew on the air as the claws struck home, despite the force shields.

  DeChance suddenly went down on one knee and hid behind her shield, eyes closed. Hunter moved quickly in beside her to protect her, but as far as he could see she hadn’t been hurt. Her gaunt face was twisted with concentration, and in that moment she looked subtly inhuman to Hunter, as though an imperfect duplicate had taken the esper’s place. DeChance’s eyes snapped open, and Hunter’s hackles rose on his neck. Her eyes were pools of bloodred, with long, split pupils.

  “Three o’clock, Captain! Fire at three o’clock and you’ll stop the defence mechanism!”

  Hunter hesitated a moment, and then fired blindly where the esper indicated. There was an explosion somewhere up above, and the ramp shuddered under his feet. The tentacles disappeared back into the maze of machinery. The Squad slowly lowered their shields and looked around them. Hunter looked at DeChance, and did his best to meet her disquieting eyes.

  “Very good, DeChance. Any more surprises we ought to know about?”

  “Not yet, Captain, but we’ve got to move faster. The tower’s influence is growing. I can feel it building. Soon you’ll all start to change. Like me.” Her voice had become harsh and strained, almost a growl. One arm was now clearly longer than the other. She smiled at Hunter, and her teeth had points. “It’s not far now, Captain. I’ve located a weak spot where we can set our explosives.”

  She walked on up the ramp, and her body moved to an inhuman rhythm. Hunter’s mouth was dry and sweat ran down his face. He wondered what the esper was becoming, and whether he was looking at his own future. Could he live, like that? Would he want to? He swallowed hard, and forced himself to concentrate on the business at hand. All that mattered now was setting the explosives and getting out of the city before they went off. He’d worry about anything else later. If there was a later.

  They came to a place where thousands of wires seethed and writhed like a nest of worms. Electrical discharges skittered on the air. A crystal turned slowly in the midst of the wires, like a watchful eye.

  “This is it,” said DeChance. “I think it’s some kind of relay. Blow this, and the whole tower will come down. If we’re lucky.”

  “Lucky,” said Corbie disgustedly. “I haven’t felt lucky since we landed on this bloody planet.”

  The Squad set about emptying their backpacks, and between them they assembled a pile of proximity mines and grenades. The pile looked pitifully small, set against the vastness of the tower. Krystel arranged the explosives so as to do the most damage, and then checked the timers. She looked at Hunter, her face set and grim.

  “Captain, we may have a problem here.”

  “Oh great,” said Corbie. “Another problem. Just what we needed.”

  “Keep the noise down, Corbie,” said Hunter. “What’s the problem, Investigator?”

  “The proximity mines, Captain. The timers have a maximum setting of thirty minutes. There’s no way we can get out of here and reach a safe distance in thirty minutes.”

  Hunter frowned. “How far is a safe distance?”

  “Unknown, Captain. But thirty minutes is barely enough time to get out of the tower.”

  Hunter looked at the esper. She shrugged; a quick, fluid gesture that disturbed Hunter greatly. “I can’t say either, Captain. The great device affects every living thing on this planet, to some degree. There’s no telling what will happen when we destroy it.”

  “The pinnace will be here soon,” said Lindholm quietly. “This ship can get us out of the city in a matter of minutes.”

  “We’d still be cutting it too fine,” said Hunter. “We have to leave a safety margin in case we run into any more defence mechanisms on our way back down the tower. No, there’s only one answer to this problem. Someone will have to stay behind and set the explosives off by hand once the others have got away.”

  Corbie shook his head firmly. “Oh no. I don’t volunteer for anything, and I’m not about to start now. Right, Sven?”

  “Right,” said Lindholm. “I don’t believe in suicide missions. There has to be another way.”

  “There isn’t,” said the esper.

  “I’m not asking for volunteers,” said Hunter, his voice carefully calm and even. “I’m staying. It’s my Squad, my duty.”

  “No, Captain,” said DeChance. “I’m the one who has to stay.”

  “I am the Captain,” said Hunter. “I won’t betray my trust again.”

  “Very noble,” said the esper in her rasping voice. “But not very practical. Look at me, Captain. Look at me.”

  She held up her right hand. It had twisted into a bony claw. The skin was covered with thick bristly hair. The arm that held it up was crooked where it should have been straight. And her face had become almost a caricature of what a human face should look like. She fixed Hunter with her alien eyes.

  “The changes have gone too far, Captain. Do you think I want to live like this? You only see the obvious signs. There are changes inside me, too. And they’re progressing. My es
p makes me very susceptible to the tower’s influence. Get out of here, Captain. Take the Squad and get the hell out of here. I’ll give you an hour, before I set the timers. That should be enough.”

  Hunter nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. “I’ll tell the colonists all about you, Megan. I promise.” He turned to Krystel. “Investigator, lead the way back down the ramp.”

  The Squad made quick, quiet good-byes to the esper, and left. She lowered herself carefully onto the ramp, and sat there alone in the light from her field lantern. For a while she listened to the Squad’s departing footsteps, but they soon disappeared under the constant murmurings of the great device. She felt very tired. She watched the electrical discharges fluttering on the air, and listened to the machinery as it muttered around her like so many unspoken thoughts.

  The Investigator led the Squad back down through the tower. There were no more sudden attacks, no more defence mechanisms. They came to the hole in the base of the tower wall, and Hunter gestured for the Squad to stay put while he took a look outside. He peered warily out into the night, and his stomach fell away. For as far as he could see, the copper tower was surrounded by an endless sea of monsters. Creatures varying in size from ten feet high to a dozen yards long waited silently in ranks beyond number. They did not move or speak or fight each other. The great device had called to them and they had come, impelled and controlled by its silent voice. Hunter ducked back inside the tower.

  “We have a problem, people.”

  “What, another one?” said Corbie. “What is it this time?”

  “Take a look outside, one at a time,” said Hunter. He waited patiently while they did. Afterwards, even the Investigator looked more than usually grim. “The aliens are quiet for the moment,” said Hunter finally. “But once we step outside the tower the odds are they’ll go crazy.”

  “But why are they waiting?” said Lindholm. “They’re not even fighting each other.”

  “The tower’s influence must be growing,” said Krystel. “Captain, we’ll have to tell the esper we need more time.

  We’re trapped in here until we can think of a way out of this mess.”

  “There is a way out,” said Hunter. “But it’s going to call for some split-second timing. The pinnace will be here shortly. There’s just enough room out there for it to land. I’ll open the airlock by remote control, and we make a dash for it.”

  “The aliens will be on us pretty quick,” said Corbie. “What happens if one of us trips and falls?”

  “Don’t,” said Hunter.

  “I hate this planet,” said Corbie. “I really hate it.”

  “We’ve still got a problem,” said Lindholm. “Theoretically, there’s room out there for the pinnace to land, but in reality, it’s too tricky a landing for remote control. Much more likely we’d crash the ship trying. We need more space.”

  “Then we’ll make some,” said Krystel. She smiled, and hefted her sword.

  “No,” said Hunter, thinking quickly. “There are too many aliens this time. If we stand and fight they’ll sweep right over us. There’s a better way. About half a mile from here there’s a wide-open square. Plenty of room for the pinnace to land. I’ll set her down there by remote control, and then we’ll make a dash for her. If we’re quick enough and mean enough, we should just make it.”

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” said Corbie. “We’re going to have to fight our way through half a mile of aliens, just to reach the pinnace?”

  “That’s right,” said Krystel. “Bearing in mind all the time that the esper’s clock is running. If we take too long getting there, it won’t matter anyway.”

  “I hate this planet,” said Corbie.

  “It’s not quite as desperate as it sounds,” said Hunter. “Outside and to the right, there’s a narrow alleyway between two buildings. If we hit the aliens hard enough we should be able to punch right through them and straight into the alley. They’ll only be able to come after us in ones and twos, and we can make straight for the open square, and the pinnace. All right, that’s enough chatter. Let’s get moving, while our nerve holds out.”

  • • •

  In the heart of the great device, silent and alone, sat the quiet, desperate thing that had once been Megan DeChance. The device was playing with her now. One of her arms had become rotten and corrupt. In the other, her bones had become soft and limp. She still had feelings in some of her fingers. She hoped there was enough left for her to set the timers. She looked again at the timepiece embedded in what was left of her right wrist. It was getting hard to concentrate. She hoped she could hold out long enough to give the Squad the hour she’d promised them, but didn’t know if she could.

  She was changing more and more rapidly now that she was so close to the device. Her humanity was fading away in fits and starts. She couldn’t even tell which changes came from the device, and which came from her own subconscious mind. Her skin had a dozen textures, and her bones no longer held their shapes. She could feel strange organs growing inside her. She didn’t know yet what their purpose was. It was getting harder to think. Her thoughts were becoming vague and unclear and tinged with alien colors. She tried to say her name aloud, but her voice only made sounds, not all of them human. It was time. If she left it any longer, she might not remember what to do. She hoped, fleetingly, that the Squad had got out of range, and then she reached carefully out to set the timer on the first mine. She couldn’t do it. The fingers on her right hand had become too large and clumsy to work the settings. She couldn’t even prime it. She looked at her left hand. It was a shapeless fleshy paw. The explosives were useless. She couldn’t set them off. The thing that had once been Megan DeChance raised its misshapen head and howled its anguish. The sound wasn’t at all human.

  Hunter burst out of the copper tower and ran for the narrow alleyway. He raised his disrupter, and a beam of searing energy smashed through the hulking creature before him. It swept on to pierce three other shapes before a fourth finally absorbed the beam. The aliens roared and howled as the smell of blood hit the air, and in seconds they had turned on each other, their single-minded emotions overpowering the tower’s hold on them. Hunter and Krystel charged into the alleyway, opening up a space with their swords and shields. Corbie and Lindholm followed close behind, using their guns on creatures distracted from attacking their injured fellows. The extra blood sent the aliens into a feeding frenzy. Teeth and claws tore at uncertain flesh as the Hell Squad cut their way through the chaos to reach the narrow alleyway, their progress slowed but not stopped by creatures who no longer knew how to die.

  Something tall and angular with flailing whips of bone and gristle lashed out at Hunter, bringing him to an abrupt halt. He met the whips with his shield, and they rebounded harmlessly from the glowing energy field. The alien tried to grab the shield with its whips, and the razor-sharp edges cut through them instantly. The alien paused uncertainly, and Hunter cut through its narrow neck with one sweep of his sword. The headless body attacked the creature next to it, its whips flailing blindly. The elongated head rolled away down the street, its mouth still snapping, until another creature pounced on it. Krystel swung her sword double-handed at Hunter’s side, driving the aliens back with the sheer speed and energy and viciousness of her attack. Blood soaked her from head to foot, little of it her own, and her grinning teeth flashed white in the bloody mask of her face. This was where she belonged, where she felt most alive; in the heart of conflict. She took some wounds despite her skills, but she barely felt them. She was beyond pain now. There was only her sword and her shield, and an endless supply of victims.

  Corbie and Lindholm fought back to back, cutting down anything that came within reach. The ex-gladiator fought silently and efficiently, inflicting the maximum damage with the least effort. That was the way of the Arena; to save one’s strength for when it was needed. Corbie danced and stamped and thrust, howling threats and curses. Mostly he cursed having run out of grenades. A silv
er creature with too many legs dropped onto him from a nearby wall.

  Corbie knocked it to one side with his shield, and skewered it while it lay thrashing on its back on the ground.

  Hunter finally plunged into the narrow alleyway, with the rest of the Squad close behind. The press of aliens fell away as the high-walled buildings on either side protected them from the mass of the ravenous horde. Something flat and leathery swept down from above. Corbie deflected it with a quick shot from his disrupter, but only burned a hole through one membranous wing. Krystel shot it in the head, and it fell limply to the ground. Corbie and Lindholm trampled it underfoot, and threw the body out of the alley to the blood-mad aliens. They blocked off the alley mouth as they tore at the flapping creature. Hunter looked down the far end of the alley, and his heart sank. A mass of alien shapes blocked it off, and the first few were already heading down the alley towards the Squad. Hunter slowed to a halt. The Squad crowded in behind him. Corbie looked to see what the problem was, and swore briefly.

  “We’re trapped, aren’t we?” said Lindholm.

  “Looks that way,” said Hunter. “We’ll just have to fight our way out, that’s all. It’s only half a mile to the open square, and by the time we get there the pinnace should be waiting for us.”

  The Hell Squad formed a defensive wall of force shields, and moved steadily down the alley to meet the waiting aliens.

  What was left of Megan DeChance crawled slowly along the ramp. It could only move slowly now, and it left a trail behind it. It wanted to go after the Squad, to warn them that it couldn’t set off the explosives, but even that simple task was beyond it now. The device’s influence was growing, and the creature’s body was falling apart. Its flesh ran like melting wax down a candle, and its fingers dripped skin. The only things it had left that still worked properly were its implants. The thought struck a spark in the creature somewhere, and it fought to concentrate on it. The comm implant, the computers, the pinnace … Something that was meant to be a smile twisted its face. It still had one last hope, one last weapon to throw at the copper tower.