by John Graham
“Affirmative, watchdog-two-zero.” Big-brother answered, “But your hunch about it being just a family visit is unlikely.”
“Big-brother, please clarify.”
“The Thorn children were being examined by Directorate medical staff,” the handler explained, “only two people are authorised to drop them off and collect them afterwards. Even though she’s a blood relative, Jezebel Thorn isn’t one of them.”
“Understood, big-brother.” Said Blake, then he turned to Gibson and wondered aloud, “why the hell would DNI docs be examining these kids?”
“Irrelevant and above your pay-grade,” their handler replied brusquely, “mine as well.”
“Uh, understood, big-brother,” Blake hastily recomposed himself as Gibson smirked quietly, “big-brother, the Thorn family is home for the night. We’re recommending a snatch op. to question the mother.”
“Acknowledged, watchdog-two-zero,” their handler replied, “standby.”
The green comm. light turned yellow as the connection was put on hold.
“Somebody’s scalp’s gonna get nailed to Red-eye’s office wall.” Gibson remarked.
“What the fleek for?” Blake asked.
“The only reason they’d have DNI doctors examining those kids is if they have a parent in the DNI,” Gibson explained, “and pretty high up too.”
“Which means that anyone other than the parents picking them up from the medical centre is a major security failure.” Concluded Blake.
“Not as dumb as you pretend to be.” Gibson replied as he pulled up Aster Thorn’s personnel file and tapped on her spouse’s name.
“Gabriel Thorn…oh, look,” Gibson noted, “‘Access Denied: Tier 2 classification’.”
“So, that’s pretty high up?” Blake asked.
“Tier 1 classification would mean only the director-general and the Masterminds can look at the file.” Gibson explained, “And, by the way, the mere fact that I just tried to look up his information will have been logged by the DNI techs.”
“Doesn’t Red-eye trust her own spies?” Blake asked, miffed.
“Of course not,” Gibson answered, “we spy on people for a living.”
The yellow standby light turned green as their handler re-established the connection.
“Watchdog-two-zero, watchdog-two-zero, come in.” their handler hailed them.
“Big-brother, this is watchdog-two-zero,” Blake responded, “We read you.”
“Watchdog-two-zero, that is a negative on your recommendation for a snatch op.,” their handler informed them, “repeat, negative on a snatch op. The mark herself hasn’t done anything overtly suspicious yet. Until she does, continue observation.”
“Understood, big-brother,” Blake acknowledged, “over and out.”
* * *
Five…two…one…three…three. Sure enough, the elevator doors slid open, and the squad filed in. There were only two levels: laboratories and excavation site. Gabriel pressed the button for the excavation site and the doors sealed shut.
There was total silence all the way down. No one knew what they would find or if they would live to report back; not to mention one of their number was now probably a guinea pig for the insane staff. Critically injured though he was, Doran might be the lucky one.
Gabriel felt nothing in particular. That was normal. Voidstalkers weren’t supposed to feel anything in particular. He had made his peace with Ogilvy’s probable demise and Doran’s incapacitation, but he could sense that his remaining squad members were wary about continuing any further. Not that they were cowards – far from it – but they had more of a sense of self-preservation than he did. That was Human.
The elevator finally reached the bottom. The doors slid open and the squad emerged into a cave hewn from the rock. Floodlights were bolted to the ceiling and storage crates were stacked around the walls. High up on the rock wall opposite, painted in Human blood, were the words: ‘TEMPLE OF KNOWLEDGE’.
Directly below the message was a dark tunnel entrance, like a breach in the cave wall leading into a black abyss. Shining a light into the hole revealed a passageway whose walls and surfaces resembled pitch-black basalt with a smooth finish and precise angles.
“This cave is not a natural formation.” Cato remarked.
“I would never have guessed.” Gabriel replied sarcastically, eliciting chuckles.
Their levity was tempered by the ominous nature of the path ahead. The light-eating tunnel before them resembled the entrance to an alien tomb or a gateway to the underworld. Natural or not, it looked like a trap, especially given the hideous showpiece on display.
There were four corpses, two on each side of the tunnel entrance, mounted on pikes with their arms tied to crossbeams like crucified scarecrows. They had been savagely mutilated, either through sadistic torture or ineptly performed surgery – or both – with bloody maws in their torsos and dried blood caking their cheeks beneath their closed eyelids.
All four of the crucified corpses sported the remains of J.E. Co. security uniforms.
“At least now we know what ‘elevation’ means.” Bale remarked grimly.
“What the fuck kind of savages do this to people?” Cato wondered rhetorically.
No one cared to guess, especially since they were probably going to find out soon.
“Look at this.” Viker called out, holding up a heavy belt with a large activation button in the buckle. There was a whole crate full of them sitting largely untouched in the corner.
“Gravity belts?” Bale asked in bewilderment, “underground?”
“Gravitational anomalies inside the structure, perhaps?” Viker surmised, “This is definitely the weirdest op. I’ve ever been on.”
“If the research staff felt they needed them to go any further, we probably do too.” Gabriel concluded, “Everybody grab a belt.”
The squad complied and Viker passed out a gravity belt to each person before wrapping one around his own waist and tightening the buckle.
“Do we have a plan beyond ‘kill anything that moves’, sir?” Cato asked apprehensively.
“Not really, but we are going to finish this quickly,” Gabriel answered resolutely, “the schematics for the ‘temple’ feature a central chamber of some kind. We find the chamber, destroy whatever’s causing the insanity, and kill everything that gets in our way.”
“It can’t possibly be that simple.” Cato said with reservations.
“It never is.” Gabriel replied, knowing from experience how right Cato was.
With Gabriel taking point, the squad approached the tunnel entrance step by cautious step, walking past the macabre display. Gabriel stepped over the threshold and planted his foot on the smooth floor. As his armoured boot connected with the floor he felt a tiny tremor reverberate in his sole, like a wave of vibrations rippling outwards from his foot.
Of course it was a trap.
A chorus of mechanical shrieking erupted from the crucified ‘corpses’. The scarecrow-like monstrosities began to thrash in their restraints, shaking the pikes from side to side as they struggled to be free. Their eyelids were open, revealing that their eyes had been replaced with cybernetic implants which glowed electric blue. They backed away from the passageway and grouped together with their backs to the elevator.
“Weapons free!” Gabriel shouted.
The squad opened fire on the mutilated monstrosities; but to their surprise, their bullets were deflected to the sides in flashes of energy. The research staff had surgically implanted shield generators inside the scarecrows’ bodies – an innovation both twisted and ingenious – protecting the creatures from small arms fire.
The scarecrows broke free of their restraints and dropped down to the ground, landing deftly on their feet. One of them picked up the giant pike on which it had been crucified and hurled it like a javelin at the squad. The 12 foot long scaffolding rod travelled slowly enough to pass through Viker’s shields whilst connecting with his stomach with enough force to knock
him backwards. But it rebounded from his armour and fell harmlessly to the ground, the sharpened tip blunted to a stub without leaving a scratch.
Bale and Cato covered Viker as he got back on his feet, overwhelming the scarecrow’s shields at point-blank range with concentrated fire to the head. The second scarecrow took a running jump at Gabriel, arms spread out as if it could fly. Gabriel readied a concussive shot and fell onto his back as the semi-machine monstrosity pounced at him, lining the barrel up with the incoming creature’s mouth and pulling the trigger.
The concussive shot was a shower of ball-bearings sprayed at the target for maximum impact force rather than penetration – no good at range, but lethal up-close. The shot entered through the scarecrow’s howling maw, blasting out the back of its head. Gabriel tossed the half-headed corpse to one side and returned to his feet.
The third and fourth cybernetic scarecrows had attempted the same airborne pounce. One landed on top of Viker, grabbing him by the shoulders. Viker deftly planted his foot on his incoming opponent and performed a reverse roll, using the cybernetic zombie’s own momentum to flip it head over heels onto its own back. Viker then leapt back to his feet and executed the scarecrow with a single shot to the head.
Bale was slower to react as the fourth scarecrow tackled him to the ground and began pummelling and clawing at his helmet like a rabid beast. Cato grabbed the scarecrow by the ankles and yanked it backwards onto its stomach, then knelt down on its back, grabbed it by the head and chin, and snapped its neck 180 degrees around.
With its head facing backwards, the surgically-enhanced scarecrow screamed at Cato, treating him to the revolting view of a face that was both half-rotted and mechanically enhanced. The scarecrow smacked Cato in the head, knocking him down before trying to climb on top of him. Bale charged forwards and struck the creature under the chin with the butt of his gun, sending it flying backwards before following up with a kill shot through the skull.
More shots rang out, this time from the passage entrance. Flashes of gunfire illuminated the darkened passageway as more enemies joined the fight. Several stray shots hit the squad’s shields as they took cover on either side of the entrance, returning fire into the passageway.
The squad switched their HUD filters to false-colour thermal enhancement, turning the walls of the pitch black passageway to a cool shade of blue with computer generated contouring superimposed over the edges and angles. Highlighted in red were several hostile silhouettes, shooting at them from the cover of the passageway.
Viker removed a frag grenade from his belt, primed it, and tossed it down the corridor. It bounced off the walls and exploded in mid-air, spraying hypersonic shards in all directions and shredding the targets’ comparatively light body armour. The squad followed up with kill bursts before the survivors could recover.
“Forward!” Gabriel ordered, “If we keep moving, they can’t pin us down!”
The squad followed Gabriel into the passageway as more defenders appeared. Viker raised his hand and activated the wrist-shield he had taken earlier. The oval-shaped energy shield appeared as distortion in the false colour enhancement filters; but it easily deflected the incoming gunfire as the squad returned fire, dispatching the defenders with ease.
Viker took point and led the squad down the right hand fork of the corridor with Gabriel beside him, while Cato and Bale covered the rear. The squad followed the spyware’s map through an otherwise bewildering maze of corridors and cube-shaped chambers, all of which looked identical and engineered to mathematical precision.
More familiar was the blood-red graffiti on the walls and floors – and even some on the ceilings. In addition to scientific equations and passages of alien script, there were more of the same pseudo-religious scribblings they had seen earlier.
‘PEACE THROUGH SUBMISSION.’
‘THE VOICE SPEAKS TRUTH.’
There was no time to wonder at the distinctly alien architecture, or messages painted on almost every surface, as the squad entered yet another chamber and were promptly fired upon by entrenched defenders.
The squad rolled into cover behind a set of equipment crates as a hailstorm of bullets greeted them, punching shallow holes in the crates or glancing off the metal edges with audible pings. Many of the bullets struck the opposite wall – not one of them leaving a discernible mark on the alien material – before clattering to the floor.
High speed motion capture software in Gabriel’s HUD allowed him to see the bullets’ trajectories as thin red streaks in his visor, some of which were coming down at them at an angle. Gabriel returned fire, aiming for the square-shaped spaces at the top of the opposite wall; the spray of bullets he fired ricocheted off the roof and silenced the intended targets.
The suppressing fire continued from behind makeshift barricades on the other side. Viker stepped out from behind the crates to confront them with wrist-shield raised. The gunfire was redirected towards Viker, bursts of bullets zeroing in on him before swerving abruptly sideways as they came into contact with the wrist-shield.
Cato returned fire from the cover of Viker’s wrist-shield to distract the defenders while Gabriel and Bale snuck around the side. Bale removed an explosive from his belt, primed it, and tossed it at the enemy with a flick of his wrist. The device travelled through the air in an arc, spinning at high speed like a gyro-ball before detonating behind the defenders.
The explosive core flash-heated an outer layer of gas into an ionised state, discharging it in the form of an arc of plasma which overwhelmed the defenders’ shielding and ate straight through their armour and flesh. The squad could imagine – even though they couldn’t hear – the dying screams of the defenders as they were scorched to death by the superhot plasma.
The squad didn’t pause for a moment. They continued through the alien labyrinth, and were ambushed repeatedly by waves of lightly armed, by highly determined defenders. Of course, the fighters were no match for commandoes, and they were steadily beaten back.
“Just how big is this place?” Viker wondered in exasperation as the squad walked down yet another perpendicular passageway.
“One central chamber, eighty sub-chambers, and 264 connecting corridors,” Bale answered, “according to the map, at least.”
“Speaking of which, what kind of fricking place is this?” Viker continued.
“Your guess is as good as any of ours.” Bale replied.
Cato pressed his hand against the wall so that his suit sensors could scan the material.
“It’s a metallic substance of some kind. Composition, unknown. Faint but uniform traces of energy beneath the surface.” Cato announced mysteriously, “Definitely alien.”
“We’re here.” Gabriel announced, leading the way to the end of the corridor.
Unlike the maze of identical, cube-shaped sub-chambers they had passed through, the central chamber was a perfect sphere the size of a small stadium, with a disorienting lack of visible angles. Extensive scaffolding encircled the rim of the chamber, extending down for several levels, resembling an archaeological site at a geometrician’s tomb.
At the centre of the enormous chamber was a single glowing light, floating in mid-air in the centre, and illuminating the enormous chamber with an unearthly glow. Bale, Cato, and Viker stared at the light like moths entranced by a flame.
“Keep an eye out for hostiles.” Gabriel ordered, snapping them out of their awe.
Cautiously, the squad ventured into the chamber, descending a ramp onto the topmost level of the scaffolding. On the other side of the scaffolding, a short distance from the light, was a raised dais, like a jumping board from which to leap towards the light…or perhaps an altar from which to worship it. As they approached, the squad could see that the light was actually a faintly glowing sphere of translucent energy with a silver orb suspended at its heart.
Atop the platform, a lone figure stood with his back turned to the squad. He was wearing what looked like snow white hazmat overalls, but which had been covered
entirely in dark red symbols, like the macabre scribblings in the main facility.
“Finally, you have come.” The figure proclaimed, turning around to face them.
He had the look of a mad scientist who had spent years in the wilderness, complete with a full beard and untamed, greying hair; and his skin was covered in what looked like microdots which glowed faintly under the dim light. The squad saw another figure on his knees with the speaker’s hand on his shoulder.
It was Ogilvy.
“Ogilvy, status!” Gabriel shouted through his helmet speakers.
“He cannot hear you,” The figure spoke with a mocking grin, “the Voice instructed us on how to cut through his armour and disable its systems.”
Ogilvy’s helmet had been carefully removed, revealing closed eyes and features that looked weighed down by exhaustion, and a gravity belt had been strapped around his waist. Although he didn’t look injured, he was clearly out of the fight.
“Who are you?” Gabriel demanded.
“I am the Leader of the Faithful,” the figure replied grandiosely, “the Slave of the Voice. The Prophet to whom the Voice’s knowledge was first revealed.”
“Is the Voice that thing in the containment shield?” Gabriel asked.
“It is the physical vessel of the Voice.” The prophet replied, looking back at the silver orb, “We thought it to be merely a xenotech artefact, albeit one ancient beyond compare, even more ancient than the place in which it has been imprisoned. But none dared approach to study it. None, that is, save for me.”
“So, you’re responsible for this madness?”
“Madness?” the prophet said with a grin, “I was mad before the Voice spoke unto me. Now, I have been cured of the madness and ignorance that plagued my mind, just as I have cured all those who now follow me.”
The squad’s motion trackers flashed red.
“Contacts!” Bale yelled, “And lots of them!”
All around the enormous central chamber, figures began to appear. More disorienting were the figures who appeared directly above, spilling out onto the ceiling as if defying gravity. The squad spread out to cover as many angles as they could, but it was impossible. The enemy was all around, oozing out of every entrance and blocking every avenue of escape.
