Voidstalker

by John Graham

  Gabriel turned around and was immediately struck in the chest by an armoured forearm. He caught a glimpse of a whirring cloud of particles around the armoured figure of Ogilvy as he went tumbling head over heels back across the floor. Even with a bionic exoskeleton, there was no way Ogilvy should have been strong enough to bring that much force to bear.

  Gabriel’s armour protected him from being winded, let alone actual injury, but it was pretty clear he wouldn’t stand much of chance in a hand-to-hand fight. He scrambled back to his feet and prepared a high-powered shot, taking aim at the gravity belt around Ogilvy’s waist and squeezing the trigger.

  He should have known better from their first encounter. The bullet travelled towards its target at atmospheric escape velocity, but the Swarm’s shielding slapped it back at him like a rubber ball hitting a wall. The bullet lost momentum from being deflected, and lost even more as it was slowed by Gabriel’s partially recovered shields, but struck him in the chest plate.

  Multiple layers of carefully forged metallic alloy and nanotube plating interwoven with shock absorbent materials prevented the deflected bullet from penetrating Gabriel’s armour – saving his life – but it still struck him with enough force to knock him off his feet, and to knock the air out of his lungs.

  Gabriel tried to get up, but the possessed Ogilvy got to him first, wrapping his fingers around Gabriel’s neck. The gorget armour protected Gabriel’s throat from behind crushed, but he found himself hoisted into the air, dangling like a puppet. He struggled to prise the fingers away from his throat, but the grip was unfathomably strong, too strong to undo.

  The demonic Ogilvy stared at him with his burning coals for eyes as he tried to choke the life out of his former squad leader. Gabriel could see that the capillaries in his eyes had been darkened by whatever the swarm of alien particles had done to his body. Gabriel couldn’t help such attention to detail, even though it didn’t really help him.

  In the corner of his HUD, Gabriel noticed his squad member’s position markers approaching. A figure came up behind the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy and jabbed a black rod into his back. The electric jolt shorted out the motors in Ogilvy’s armour, causing the possessed Ogilvy to stumble forward, dropping Gabriel in the process.

  The enraged Ogilvy whirled round and swung his fist at Bale, getting up to confront him as Bale used the black widow’s baton as a club to fight back. As they fought, someone came up behind Gabriel and unlocked the clamps securing the bomb to his waist. With Bale distracting the possessed Ogilvy, Viker took the bomb and rushed up behind him, diving forwards and planting the bomb behind Ogilvy’s waist.

  The clamps on the back of Ogilvy’s armour automatically snapped around the bomb, locking it in place. The Swarm-possessed Ogilvy wheeled round again in fury, smacking Viker in the side of the head. His helmet and neck armour protected him from having his neck broken, but he was knocked unconscious by the blow.

  As Viker collapsed, Ogilvy turned back to Bale who tried to stab him with the spike end of the black widow’s baton. Ogilvy caught the baton and twisted it around to stab Bale through the weak point in his shoulder armour, impaling him. Bale’s bio-readings turned orange as the possessed Ogilvy took the baton by both ends and used it as a handle to lift Bale up, swing him around, and toss him into the air like a ragdoll.

  Losing two squad members in as many seconds turned Gabriel’s vision red. Before Bale hit the ground, and before his opponent could react, Gabriel charged forwards and shoulder tackled Ogilvy around the thigh, leaping into the air in the same motion. Gabriel’s own genetically enhanced strength was superhuman, and combined with the strength provided by his armour, he was able to toss Ogilvy skyward the same way Bale had been thrown.

  The possessed monster roared in fury as he went sailing through the air. Yet somehow he twisted in mid-air, landing on his feet with preternatural agility that no Human could achieve. Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to recover, drawing the sword and flicking the energy field switch as he charged forwards. The possessed Ogilvy snarled like a feral beast as Gabriel swung the blade at him, attempting to force him backwards off the edge of the dais.

  The Swarm’s energy shielding didn’t merely block projectiles, it could also guard against the deadly energy field around Gabriel’s sword. Every time the blade came close, it was slapped back again with a flash of energy, protecting the host from being sliced apart. But it had the desired effect; Ogilvy was forced on to the back foot, backing away from the relentless attacks all the way back to the edge of the dais.

  However, the Swarm had no intention of being forced back into the containment shield, and without warning, Ogilvy grabbed the xenotech blade between his palms. The Swarm-generated shielding protected his hands from being cut to pieces, and also generated a violent feedback loop, causing a sputtering whining sound as the two energy fields clashed.

  Gabriel strained against his opponent’s superior strength, but the possessed Ogilvy was literally pushing the blade back at him. Then with a ferocious scream, Ogilvy snapped the blade with his armoured gauntlets, scattering the shards in all directions. Before Gabriel could react, Ogilvy had shoved him back down the steps of the dais and landed on top of him, unsheathing his combat claws before bringing them down towards Gabriel’s neck.

  Gabriel put his hands out at the last second. With his left fist clenched, his remaining combat claws locked with Ogilvy’s claws whilst he grabbed Ogilvy’s other fist with his clawless right gauntlet. Gabriel was pinned on his back, locked in a two-handed grapple as a much stronger opponent bore down on him.

  Gabriel lashed out with a kick to Ogilvy’s gut, hitting the button on his gravity belt and deactivating it. Ogilvy hardly flinched, instead pushing down even harder, trying to force his combat claws through the weak points under Gabriel’s gorget armour. The swarm of alien particles began to whirl even faster, forming a screaming, silver maelstrom that seemed to reflect the aggression of its host.

  Even with the assistance of his strength-enhancing exoskeleton, Gabriel was straining to keep the deadly claws away from his throat, and without much success. His armour was an added layer of protection; but with enough force applied to the weak points it could be pierced. Gabriel’s strength was starting to fail. It felt like trying to bench press an armoured vehicle with a deadly incentive to lift closing in on his throat.

  Was this how he was going to die?

  11:09:73

  The timer was ticking down towards zero, and they would both be annihilated when it did. So why not bring everything to a close right now? Just let the claws slide through armour’s weak points and into his neck? Once his jugular and carotid were severed, it would take about a minute for him to lose consciousness from blood loss, and a few more minutes for his heart to stop. Once his pulse ceased, the bomb’s timer would skip to t-minus 00:00:01.

  They would die together.

  Through the swirling silver cloud of particles, Gabriel could see the ghostly pale face of his former squad member, his eyes turned black by the Swarm’s possession, and his mouth slowly twisting into a sickly, triumphant grin. Gabriel could hardly make out the face of his soon-to-be killer, but he could vaguely make out the grin.

  It reminded him a little of Rose’s grin.

  For some reason, that memory was what flashed through his mind whilst staring his own death in the face: his daughter’s mischievous smile when she’d poked him in the nose on his way out the door. If he died, would she understand why he wasn’t coming home? Would Orion or Violet or Leo understand?

  Of course they wouldn’t.

  The pain in Gabriel’s muscles was subsumed by a much more biting pang of emotion: the vision of four pairs of bright green eyes, identical to his own, brimming with tears at being told that daddy was never coming home. Aster would be grief-stricken, but at least she would understand; the children wouldn’t.

  In fact, it would be worse than that. When the antimatter bomb detonated, the energy released by the explosion would annihilate
all matter within a cubic kilometre or more. There would be nothing left of him to bury, no remains to be collected, not even a piece of his armour over which Aster and the children could mourn. All trace of him would be obliterated, with nothing but an empty casket at his funeral.

  Ogilvy’s combat claws made contact with Gabriel’s armour, pressing against the weak points in his neck armour. If he was going to survive, he had to fight back now. His muscles were on fire from the effort of pushing back, and he had very little strength left to resist.

  But he did have one last trick left to play.

  “Override: Lieutenant Ogilvy, root access.” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, straining to pronounce the words into his mic, “Victory. Sovereign. One. Seven. Zero. Seven.”

  The pain in Gabriel’s muscles made it a challenge just to enunciate clearly enough to be acknowledged. But it worked; a command link was established remotely from the computer in his suit to the computer in Ogilvy’s suit.

  “Override: shield…over-pulse…” Gabriel could barely get the syllables to leave his mouth clearly, and he felt Ogilvy’s combat claws find the weak points in his armour and the cold sting of the claws starting to pierce his flesh.

  “NOW!” he screamed.

  Gabriel’s voice command remotely triggered the over-pulse mechanism in Ogilvy’s armour, violently repelling all matter around him. Gabriel was already on the floor, and was knocked flat again, but the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy was catapulted straight into the air.

  Ogilvy’s flailing body travelled straight upwards in a steep parabolic arc over the dais, crying out with a keening scream of thwarted rage all the way up and all the way down again until he fell through the top of the containment shield.

  The timer jumped to: 00:00:10.

  THE TRUTH

  Sitting in a cramped and windowless interview room with her wrists secured to the table, Jezebel Thorn was outwardly silent and calm. Inside, she was fuming with impatience. Since it was the DNI who had detained her – apparently, on the ACS’s behalf – she wasn’t technically under arrest, and hence couldn’t be formally questioned. Instead, she had to sit there and listen as the details of her alleged guilt were discussed in front of her.

  “So this data chip she took,” the ACS detective said to the DNI agent, “you said it was some kind of tracking device?”

  “Oh, it was a lot more than just a tracking device.” The DNI agent replied, “it’s a shame she tossed it down the chute; otherwise I could have given you a live demonstration.”

  “I still have no idea what either of you are talking about.” Jezebel lied.

  “The chip was part of what we call a ‘MacGuffin trap’,” the DNI agent explained, ignoring the suspect, “it’s a kind of sting operation where we plant something supposedly important, make it out to be really valuable, and then see who comes to collect it. That way, we can lure out suspects, moles, and other people of interest.”

  “I hate to presume to lecture a civil security officer on the law,” Jezebel interjected with a slight sneer, “but I believe it’s illegal to speak to a suspect without legal counsel present.”

  “Good thing no one’s speaking to you, then.” the DNI agent retorted, “Now as I was saying, the data chip was also covered in a very fine layer of biometric sensors capable of scanning the DNA of whoever touched it. We were able to record not just where the chip was, but the identity of everyone who touched it as well as when and where they touched it.”

  The DNI agent produced a holographic display on his wrist-top computer, displaying a list of dates, times, and faces. Jezebel saw Aster Thorn’s face displayed, followed by Felix Kessler’s face. She found it hard to keep her composure when her own face appeared.

  “See right here?” the DNI agent pointed to Jezebel’s face, “She took the chip from your murder victim shortly before he was murdered, in the exact same place where he died.”

  Jezebel was silent. Assuming the DNI agent wasn’t bluffing, there was no conceivable explanation or answer that she could give to make that fact go away, and opening her mouth to try would only make things worse.

  “What about the other suspect?” the detective asked.

  “She was blackmailed by Madam Jezebel.” The agent explained.

  “For which I presume you have evidence.” Jezebel interjected with lofty sarcasm.

  “Indeed, I do,” the agent replied, “Take a listen.”

  The DNI agent pulled up another file – an audio file this time – and pressed play.

  “And by coming, you’re officially complicit. Unless, of course, the real reason – the one you’d like me to corroborate if the investigators ask – is that you simply came to pick up your children from their grandmother’s home.”

  Jezebel remained silent. There really was no explaining that away, assuming they had the whole recording in their possession.

  “By the way, yes, we have the whole recording.” The DNI agent said, closing the audio file, “Which we can give you, along with the tracking logs from the data chip.”

  “None of that proves that I had anything to do with Felix Kessler’s murder,” Jezebel said unconvincingly, “or that Aster Thorn wasn’t the one who killed him.”

  “Aster Thorn was at home around the same time that the victim passed the data chip to you,” the DNI agent replied, “we have data to show that too. Bottom line: you’re fricked.”

  * * *

  Within a fist-sized containment bottle forged from material suitable for starship hulls, an electromagnetic suspension field was deactivated, and a globule of antimatter weighing precisely 2 grams dropped under gravity and inertia until it touched the side.

  The resulting mutual annihilation of matter and antimatter resembled the life and death of a star compressed into a single blinding flash. The observatory’s containment shield barely held against the force of the explosion, sparing the witnesses from obliteration, and releasing energy only in the form of light.

  As suddenly as it began, the explosion was over. A blaze of astral light that had lasted for a twinkling in time was gone, leaving the retinas of those who witnessed it bleached by the sight. The containment shield continued to glow faintly, but no trace remained of the Swarm or its Human host. The chamber was as silent as a tomb.

  Gabriel lay sprawled on the ground where he had been pinned, lying as still as a corpse. He resembled a life-sized toy soldier, or a circus prop discarded on the ground to gather dust and dirt after the show had packed up and moved on.

  He stirred.

  The muscles in his arms were burning, and he could feel a set of stinging wounds in his neck where the combat claws had started to push through into his flesh. And yet, even though the bomb had detonated early, he was alive. Even though his arms hurt, his legs felt fine, so he kicked his feet into the air, lifting his ankles over his head and using the momentum to roll backwards onto his feet.

  His armour had seen better days. Most of his shield emitters had been shorted out by the over-pulse he had triggered, as well as by the energy required to protect him from being crushed by the over-pulse from Ogilvy’s armour. Parts of his suit had taken physical damage as well, with the redundant motors in his exoskeleton picking up the slack for the ones which had been overloaded by electrocution.

  But more importantly, he was alive, something which could not be said for most of the swarm of brainwashed zealots. Thankfully, the remaining members of his squad were also still alive. The bio-readings of Viker and Bale were orange, but they were alive and conscious, and Cato’s bio-readings were green.

  Someone else was still alive. A figure kneeling motionless on the dais, dressed in a white hazmat overcoat covered in symbols and glyphs written in blood, his overgrown hair and beard covering his face. From the righteous and triumphant image he had projected earlier, the figure he now cut was miserable and defeated.

  Gabriel approached the erstwhile Prophet Lawrence Kane, rage steadily building in his chest at the insanity and death this little coward, thi
s one sad little traitor, had unleashed. Gabriel had lost his LMG again, his xenotech sword had been broken into pieces, and the combat claws on his right hand had been sliced clean off. That left only the claws on his left hand, his unused sidearm, and the combat knife on his shoulder.

  Gabriel drew his knife.

  He gripped the man’s hair and pulled back his head, looking the false prophet in the eyes. The microdots in his skin were still visible, but they were only useful against bullets and blast force, they could do nothing against a blade. Gone was the look of smug triumph that had been smeared across his face; now his expression was blank, and his eyes were wide and dazed, like a man who had just discovered that the world around him was a lie.

  “All hail Lawrence Kane.” Gabriel sneered, his helmet speakers turning his voice into a deep and demonic snarl, “Leader of the Faithful. Prophet of the Voice.”

  “You…” the prophet stammered, “…don’t know…what you’ve done.”

  “I destroyed an alien threat to Humanity.” Gabriel replied.

  “…Destroyed?” Kane murmured, then his voice became filled with anguish and rage, “you have destroyed NOTHING! What you have inflicted is a mere pinprick upon a god! The orb we found; it was an atomistic part of a far greater whole, a vessel for aeon’s worth of knowledge! Knowledge gathered from countless civilizations long extinct! Knowledge that could have been ours to wield!”

  “What are you talking about?” Gabriel demanded.

  “The Voice,” Kane continued, his own voice trembling, “It was the voice of an entity more ancient and more powerful than you could possibly imagine. I know because it touched my mind, just as it touched the minds of my followers and the mind of your comrade.”

  Hearing Ogilvy referenced gave Gabriel the sudden urge to slit the self-styled prophet’s throat, but he resisted for the moment.