by M. R. Forbes
The ramp hit the door hard, causing the entire ADC to buck back against it with enough force that the front went airborne. Flores and Caleb cried out, Caleb’s grip on the strap with his inhuman hand the only thing that saved him from serious injury. The Reaper’s head was decapitated forcefully, along with its arms. The ADC crashed back to the ground, the back hatch having embedded itself into the door with the Reaper crushed beneath it. There was no space for the monster’s head to regenerate.
“Let’s move, Marines!” Caleb shouted, stumbling back to his feet. Sho was out of the cockpit and charging toward them. “Through the open hatch! Go!”
Washington was out first, stepping off the ramp to the right and ducking through the partially open blast doors. Flores followed him, Sho and Caleb after that. They squeezed through the space and looked back. The hangar was smoldering where Caleb’s drone had crashed and where the Reaper had been burned. Tire marks wound around the open deck. Dark blood trailed across the floor. It reminded Caleb of the war zone the hangar had become during the ship’s launch.
His lips split in a thin smile. The results had been a lot better this time. Guardians eight, Reapers zero.
“Hey Alpha,” Flores said, her breathing ragged behind her words.
“Yes, Private?” Caleb replied, turning to look at her. She had a huge smile on her face.
“I have an idea.”
“Which is?”
“Let’s not ever do that again.”
“Affirmative.”
“We get all of them with that display of Marine can-do, Sarge?” Sho asked.
“I think so.”
“Job well done, Marines!”
“Oorah!”
“Save the party,” Caleb said. “We still have one more target to worry about.”
“Dr. Moreau,” Flores said.
“Let’s head up to Research and finish this, once and for all.”
Chapter 26
Just because the Reapers were accounted for didn’t make the trek from the hangar to Research any easier. Not only were Caleb and Washington especially beat up and sore, but Caleb was constantly aware that David Nash was still out there. Just because he believed the man had brought Riley back to Research, it didn’t mean he was right. It didn’t mean David wasn’t trailing them or watching them. It didn’t mean they wouldn’t encounter him somewhere else within the many corridors running along the hull of Deliverance.
He had to treat the situation as if the Guardians were still under threat, and they crossed the distance accordingly, staying in formation as they traveled from the hangar to the nearest stairwell, ascending cautiously and making their way toward Research. Caleb wasn’t completely confident he even knew how to get there, having never visited the area before. Fortunately, Sho seemed to have an uncanny ability to recall the three-dimensional grid of the ship, and she was able to direct them to the right general location.
The Guardians weren’t about to walk right up to the Research module. They hadn’t taken their time reaching the area to charge ahead recklessly. They gathered a few corridors away, huddling close to prepare their approach.
“This is it, Guardians,” Sho said. “If we do this right, we might be trading this ark for our new home before we hit the sack tonight.”
Washington tapped on his armor, pointing to his back.
“Well, who told you to drop it? We’ve got enough guns. We’ve got enough ammo. I’m not worried.”
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” Caleb warned. “We have no idea what we’re dealing with in David. We know he’s wearing the Cerebus armor, and that’s about it.”
“We know he killed the original Reapers and turned them into trife hybrids,” Sho said. “He also killed Shiro and Ning. From what Riley told us, it sounds like he did it with his bare hands.”
“If he’s that dangerous, I don’t see how we’re going to do anything against him,” Flores said. “Can plasma even damage that armor?”
“I don’t know,” Caleb replied. “I can’t imagine how it wouldn’t.”
He paused, looking over his team. He had been wrestling with the problem the entire way up from the hangar. He had gone over Riley’s story multiple times. She had told Harry to program the stasis pods to wake him and his Marines once the ship was low on power, when it became apparent that there was no other option than to confront the Reapers and David Nash, assuming they had survived the long crawl of time. They had survived, and the Guardians had proceeded to do their damnedest to clean up the mess Riley admitted she had caused by altering David in the first place. They had been mostly successful too. He was proud of his Marines for that.
But something had been bothering him from the beginning. A sense that Doctor Valentine still wasn’t telling them everything she knew. That feeling had become more powerful when he had seen the look in the Reaper’s eye. It was too intelligent. Too full of life.
“Sarge, you okay?” Sho asked.
Caleb nodded. “Affirmative. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“Storming the castle,” he replied. “Going after David. There’s something off about this whole thing. Something we’re missing.”
“I’ve felt like that since we went to pick up Valentine back on Earth.”
“I’m not thrilled about the prospect of things going sideways again,” Flores said. “If there’s a mystery to solve, let’s Scooby-Doo it now.”
“Scooby-Doo it?” Sho asked.
Washington laughed silently.
“You never saw Scooby-Doo? There’s no hope for you, Sho.”
“We don’t have time to solve that mystery right now,” Caleb said. “But we do need to use our heads.”
“What are you thinking, Sarge?” Sho asked.
Caleb’s eyes swept over the Guardians. “Riley said they shot David in the head and he regenerated back to full capacity. And now he’s wearing an advanced armor prototype for even more protection. Flores is right. There may not be any way we can hurt him.
“The way I see it, we have two options here. Option one, we all rush Research. If David is prepared for it – hell even if he isn’t – the odds are we’re all going to die, and if we don’t, we’ll probably wish we had. Option two, I go in alone and try to talk to him. Maybe I can reason with him. We aren’t the ones who used him. Why should he be pissed at us? If I can’t get him to listen, then I die, and you can try to find another way. Maybe you’ll decide to go with option one, but at least you’ll know that’s the only option left.”
“Hold on,” Flores said. “Alpha, don’t you remember telling us we aren’t flying solo anymore, for any reason?”
“I do. The good thing about being Alpha is you get to change the rules. So far we’ve consistently played this out like Marines. Whatever the problem is, we attack it.”
“We are Marines, Alpha,” Flores said.
“Good Marines,” Sho said. “And we’ve done pretty well attacking the problem so far.”
“I know. And I believe in all of you. But not against David. Not in a direct confrontation, knowing what we know.”
“If you want to talk to him, why not head up to the bridge and try to raise him on the comm?” Sho asked. “You don’t need to go in person.”
“Comms are offline, remember?”
Sho lowered her head. “Damn.” She picked it up again. “Why don’t I go, then? I’m less valuable, especially like this.” She pointed to her scarred face.
“No. I’m Alpha. I need to be the one to do it.” He paused, considering. “I’ll tell you what. If things do turn violent and I think we can win, I’ll signal you.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m not sure yet, but you’ll know it when it happens. Make sure you’re ready.”
Sho stared at him, her expression hurt and angry, but also respectful and proud. “Sarge, I want you to know I hate this idea.”
Caleb met her gaze. He saw something in it he hadn’t seen before. Not necessar
ily because it wasn’t there. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed. “Affirmative. This isn’t about love or hate. It’s about duty. We have a duty to protect the colonists. That’s the mission, no matter who or what it costs. That’s what we signed up for.”
“I know.”
Caleb looked at each of them, meeting their eyes with his. He wished there was another, less risky option. They all knew there wasn’t. They had done well to destroy the Reapers without any casualties. They had done well to make it this far. He would do everything he could to make sure the story didn’t end here.
“If I don’t signal you or come back within an hour, assume I’m dead,” he said. Or David is turning me into a Reaper. He didn’t say it, but he couldn’t help but think it. “If I don’t come back, it was an honor serving with all of you.”
“You too, Sarge,” Sho said.
“Good luck, Alpha,” Flores said.
Washington put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder, squeezing it.
“Sho, how do I get there from here?” Caleb asked, handing his plasma rifle to Washington. The other Marine hesitated before taking it, his expression grim. Caleb proceeded to give him the rest of his weapons.
“Down that corridor to the third intersection, turn left. Take it about a hundred meters, second intersection I think. Turn right. Follow the signs.” She managed to say it with a flat expression, keeping her voice strong. She was a Marine first, just like him.
“Affirmative. Listen for my signal. Be ready.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“I know you will. You’re Marines.”
Caleb saluted them. It broke protocol, but it felt like the right thing to do. The Guardians saluted back.
Then he turned and headed off alone.
Chapter 27
Caleb moved at a measured pace, staying alert as he navigated the remaining passageways to Research. He wasn’t as much concerned about David making an appearance as he was the potential of traps being laid across his path, set in defense of the area against possible threats. Since he didn’t know David, he had no idea if the man would think that way. He wasn’t taking any chances. It would be a major failure to fall victim to an improvised explosive because he made too many assumptions.
There were no explosives. No traps. Caleb reached the second intersection without any trouble, finding himself around the corner from the entrance into Research. He lingered there for a moment, quickly shedding his SOS and leaving it in a heap on the floor. His goal was to be as non-threatening to David as possible, and approaching the module in a t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs was almost as vulnerable as he could get.
He could imagine Sho’s reaction to the decision. She wouldn’t like him putting himself at even further risk. He had seen the look in her eye before he had left the other Guardians. It wasn’t only admiration and mutual respect. He had seen love there too. It reminded him of how she had offered to marry him inside Metro before she knew he had signed on to be a Guardian. She had downplayed the truth of her feelings then. She had kept it light-hearted but honest. He had taken it the same way. They were a good match because they were both Marines. They understood one another as well as any two people could. As his subordinate, it just couldn’t happen. As civilians, it could. End of story.
But there was a chance they would never see one another again, and she had done her best to tell him how she felt without verbalizing it, and without embarrassing either one of them. She probably knew he didn’t feel the same way. He cared for her the way he cared for all of his Marines. They were comrades. Brother and sister Marines. He wasn’t angry about her feelings. He appreciated that she had felt comfortable enough to reveal the truth. It didn’t complicate things. He trusted her ability to accept how things had to be. If anything, it was motivation for him to see this through. To get the Deliverance to Essex’s surface and to get the colony settled so she could meet someone who would love her back.
It was a strange time to be thinking about things like that. Or maybe it was the perfect time. Before the trife, he and his squad mates had always done their best to be prepared for anything. They could never have imagined what anything might become, and he would never have guessed how that road would twist and turn over the last two – no, two hundred and thirty-eight years – to bring him here.
Now he was down to his underwear, with a left arm composed of artificial muscles and machinery beneath an alien metal shell. He was standing in a failing starship over forty light-years from Earth, preparing to face-off against a mutant human who was not only wearing Riley’s Cerebus armor, but who could regenerate from a catastrophic head wound.
If someone had told the Marine Raider version of himself he would wind up in this place, at this time, he would have thought it was the most preposterous thing he had ever heard.
Hell, it was still hard to accept, and he was living it.
Once more into the breach.
He turned the corner, spotting the entrance to Research at the end of the corridor, less than thirty meters away. The lights brightened ahead of him, better illuminating his path. Still not taking his safety for granted, he scanned the bulkhead for signs of foreign devices. He also noticed a camera positioned at the corner of the hatch, positioned to look down at whomever or whatever approached the module.
Was David in there? Was he watching right now?
Caleb started walking, taking evenly spaced steps along the passageway toward the hatch. He kept his arms up, his hands out, so if David were watching, he would hopefully know Caleb wasn’t a threat. His eyes continued to sweep back and forth, looking for signs of changes along the walls, the floor, the ceiling.
All clean.
All clear.
He had burned twenty minutes of his hour by the time he came within reach of the outer hatch into Research. He glanced up into the camera, standing in front of the door for a moment to see if David would open it for him. Or react in any observable way.
He didn’t.
Caleb reached out, putting his hand on the module’s control panel. The hatch was locked and secured, requiring a fingerprint or passcode to enter. Caleb tapped his code into the panel. As Guardian Alpha, he was supposed to have access to the module. He did. He heard the soft thunk of the disengaging locks, and then the solid panel slid aside.
The sudden smell overwhelmed him; it was stale and musty and thick. He reached up to pinch his nose as he stifled a cough. He looked ahead. He could see the Research control room ahead, a light haze hanging in the air. What was he breathing right now? Had David left the area toxic? Was that the trap?
Caleb lifted his t-shirt over his mouth, using it for whatever small filtration he could get. He pressed ahead, entering the control room. The hatch slid closed behind him.
He had been expecting a mess. The scene of a fight between the Reapers and David. Riley had said they had tried to fight back against him and failed. But there was no sign of fighting here. No bullet holes. No blood stains. Nothing. The room was in perfect condition. The displays were on. The terminals were running, and the stale air was clearing out, escaping and dissipating into the cleaner outside air. The module’s independent filtration unit must have failed at some point over the centuries. Caleb lowered his shirt as he moved to the primary terminal. Tapping on the control surface, he requested a passcode for access.
“David,” he called out. “David Nash. Are you in here? My name is Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Space Force Marines. We need to talk.”
He walked across the control room, pausing as he neared the rear hatch leading into the next portion of the space. He was assuming Research was laid out similarly to the Marine module, with the laboratory occupying the same position as the armory. That would put Research’s stasis pods behind the lab and the crew quarters in a similar location to the barracks. He imagined the scientists had actual rooms instead of basic racks since there were so many fewer of them.
“David Nash,” he repeated. “My name is Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Sp
ace Force Marines. We need to talk.”
He moved into the short corridor connecting the different areas of the module. As he turned left, walking down it toward the lab, he remembered Riley’s story. According to her, the alien ship was kept in a storage room at the end of the corridor, past the laboratory. He could see what he assumed was the door to the room from his current position.
His heart began to pulse. He was both curious and afraid to see the ship.
“David Nash,” he said a third time. “My name is Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Space Force Marines. We need to talk. I’m unarmed. Come out if you’re here?”
When he reached the entrance to the lab, he tapped the control panel to open it. Pausing, he leaned over to look inside. He expected another war zone, but the room was clean. Spotless. Untouched. The convertible chair where Riley said she had injected David was free of damage, debris, and blood; it was as clean and unmarred as it was the day it had been installed. A mobile tray of tools sat beside it, each piece of equipment perfectly spaced and organized. The counter behind the chair was equally clean, as were all of the machines arranged around the room. He noticed a door that likely led to the stasis pods.
There hadn’t been any fighting in here either, or if there had been, someone had gone to great lengths to erase any evidence of it. Everything looked like it had been abandoned without a single use. It was in perfect condition.
Too perfect.
“David Nash,” Caleb said again. “My name is Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Space Force Marines. We need to talk. C’mon man, come out. I’m unarmed.” He held up his shirt to show David he had no gun stashed in the waistband of his boxers.
Still no reply. Caleb was pretty sure neither David or Riley was in here. He was becoming more and more convinced that no one had been in here in a long, long time. But the Reapers had come from somewhere. And he was confident someone in the Cerebus armor had been chasing Doctor Valentine.
