“Ella, you’re coming in last,” I said. “Have the Globular Blaster ready.”
She nodded her helmet.
“Any last words, anyone?” I asked.
No one had any.
“Saul,” I said. “You’re taking me. Start firing the hand cannon if you want, just don’t get yourself killed while doing it.”
“Saul understands,” the big guy said.
“Ifness?” I asked.
“I’ll come back and get Ella,” the hitman said. “Then, I’m staying out of the fight.”
“That’s your choice,” I said. “But if it was me, I’d want to get some serious revenge for torturing me for weeks. But hey, that’s effectuator thinking. Hitmen probably don’t want payback.”
“Keep your junior psychology to yourself,” Ifness said. “It means nothing to me.”
“Sure,” I said.
A second later, Saul stepped near and put a heavy hand on my left shoulder. He squeezed, hanging on tight.
I gripped the inactivated force axe and knew that I might be dead within ten minutes. Even if I won, I might push my body farther than it could go. I wasn’t going to quit until I’d done it, though. I wasn’t going to—
With terrifying suddenness, the corridor disappeared…
-85-
And I was standing at the edge of a vast, octagonal-shaped chamber that had a cathedral-like ceiling way up there. Lined up along the walls for twenty meters or more were Plutonian slugs at countless stations. Combined, they manipulated thousands of levers, buttons and other devices with their slimy tentacles. There were huge screens even higher up showing all kinds of Plutonian vessels, bustling chambers, possibly engine or beam rooms and strange shots of the murky surface of the planet below, or beside, I suppose I could say, the PDS. Giant cracks crisscrossed the planetary surface. Out of those cracks steamed roiling gases. I guessed in that moment that the planet was the engine or genesis for the pocket universe’s gases.
Did I mention two Plutonian Fleets showing on the highest screens? The two fleets moved through the murky gases. I imagined they were trying to encircle our invasion fleet by surprise. Did Rollo even know the enemy vessels were approaching him?
I didn’t have time to wonder, as I had my own problems just now.
In the center of the vast, octagonal-shaped chamber was a tiered pyramid. It wasn’t massive like an Egyptian pyramid, but around three stories tall. It had six tiers, if one counted the top where various machines or computers did their thing. The rest of the tiers had machines embedded in them. Plutonians worked the bottom two tiers. Abaddon clones worked the other smaller levels.
Jennifer sat up there on top of the pyramid in a throne-like chair. My ex-lover still had braids, wore a dark metallic suit in an evilly sexy fashion and held a baton with crackling energies on one end. The other end had a glowing, ethereal spike.
I took this all in as Saul released his painful grip from my shoulder. The clone disappeared with a rush of air, and reappeared on a pyramidal tier beside a different clone. Saul raised his hand cannon and fired.
The booming blast had no discernable effect, as the targeted clone vanished an instant before Saul pulled the trigger. In retaliation, the vanished clone reappeared behind Saul, attempting to stab him with a gleaming knife. Saul also vanished before the knife struck home, and he seemed to stay vanished this time.
As the Abaddon clones and the Plutonians began reacting to the shot, a purple ray speared through the chamber, striking a different Abaddon clone in the back. Some might have considered that a dirty blow, but this was war, and that made it fair, right? N7’s disrupter ray burned through the clone—he did not have the same awful powers as his father, Abaddon, had possessed. The clone did not have a mental force field, and went down as he gushed golden ichor from the wound.
At that point, I began to run toward the tiered pyramid. N7, meanwhile, fired another purple ray.
I did not run at a sprint, but at a pace to get me there and get things started. I wanted to refrain as long as I could from entering the hyper-speed state that devoured my muscular strength and stamina.
Things were starting to happen, all right. Abaddon clones turned from their instruments, and they began drawing weapons of various kinds. Jennifer stood up, and hundreds of Plutonians began to shriek and screech in their freakishly alien tongue.
So far—
Oh-oh. The Plutonians along the walls produced weapons, aiming at me.
With my tongue, I pressed a switch embedded in a back molar, and I entered hyper-speed. I moved much faster as a host of beams sliced and diced the air where I’d been.
The Abaddon clones and Plutonians seemed to stand still. It was uncanny and delightful. I had to remind myself that I could only stay in this state for a short period. During that time, I had to achieve victory or face—
I wasn’t going to think about losing. I was going to get while the getting was good.
As I ran—I must have seemed like a blur to them—I snatched the longish handle from my hip and readied the weapon. All I needed was to press one more switch and the red force would emerge as the deadly axe.
Abaddon clones sparkled on the tiers. I grinned to myself, certain what was going to happen next.
A clone disappeared. So did another.
Around me, sudden sparkles heralded the appearance of a massive, menacing Abaddon clone. More began popping into existence near me. Each held a powerful weapon—pistol, beamer, rifle or crackling energy blade.
I cheated in the worst possible way. I pressed the last button. The red force axe hissed into being and I swung at the glittering sparkles in the air. The axe sheared through one appearing clone after another. This was fantastic. This was murderous mayhem on my part.
In a microsecond, six clones began toppling to the floor in various states of dismemberment. It would take them time—in my frame of reference—to hit the floor.
Even as the six fell in slow motion, I climbed up the first tier. It was pathetically easy slashing, hacking and stabbing the alien blob creatures. This was joy. This was fun. Slimy, hateful Plutonians, with their strange partly mechanical innards began melting from the heat of the ancient force axe passing through them.
I jumped up onto the second tier, creating the same zone of death as I climbed onto the third tier. Two Abaddon clones managed to teleport away before I reached them. The third tried to teleport behind me. He died in a gory ruin of golden ichor.
I reached the fourth tier. It was empty. The elite guard was getting smart in an incredibly short amount of time. But I couldn’t quit now. As I scaled up to the fifth tier, massed clone weaponry fired at me from seeming pointblank range.
I barely dodged in time as beams and slow-moving bullets passed over where I’d been. I raced along the edge and jumped up again.
The tier here was empty.
A terrible premonition told me to glance back. Nine clones fired up at me from the main deck. I ran, I dodged and I twisted away from their beams, and I barely missed the ethereal spike driving down for my face from above. At the last microsecond from the corner of my eye, I’d noticed darting movement. Jennifer stabbed down from the top of the pyramid with her baton spike. She moved faster than anyone else here except for me.
She was not moving at hyper-speed. But she was fast enough that we were in a similar realm of heightened movement.
“Creed,” she sneered. “You were a fool to come here. You will never escape from this place.”
The shrieks and shouts from the others came in garbled slow-motion sounds. Jennifer spoke slower than normal, at least to me, which meant she was speaking super-fast to everyone else.
“Honey-bun,” I said. “I’ve come here to show you how wrong I was long ago to leave you to Abaddon in the Karg space-time continuum. If I could change anything, it would be that moment.”
“Foul liar,” she snarled. “You never loved me—not that it matters.”
“I did,” I said. “And I do.”
“Prove it. Lower your weapon and bare your chest to me.”
I dodged more beam fire from below and another one of her ethereal spike-stabs. As I did, I clambered onto the top tier with her.
“You’re a fool with delusions of romance,” she spat.
“So sue me.”
Jennifer crouched as she twirled her baton like a grandstand master. A second later, she aimed the other end at me. A gout of strange fire burst from it.
Fortunately, I was no longer standing in its path. I moved in toward Jennifer, dodging another gout of strange fire, weaved the other way and swung the force axe. Jennifer blocked with the baton, a poor choice on her part. Yet, to my astonishment, the baton stopped the force axe. Sparks showered from her weapon and the red axe-energy crackled and seemed as if it might short out.
Jennifer laughed, ducked and swung the baton, trying to slash me with the ethereal spike. I wildly parried the ghostly spike, and once again, the axe’s red lines of power crackled and hissed.
I dropped the force axe and moved as fast as I could, grabbing both of her wrists as she tried to jab the ethereal spike into me. Jennifer proved dreadfully strong. What had Abaddon done to her? Yet, despite her enhanced strength, she wasn’t as strong as me.
I squeezed her wrists and wrenched one as hard as I could. Bones snapped. She paled, and the grip of her other hand weakened.
I tore the baton from her.
“No!” she shouted.
Then a beam from one of the Abaddon clone’s rifles struck my side. The metallic suit held for an instant, and that was enough for me to twist out of the beam’s path.
“Forgive me, my darling,” I said.
“I will never forgive you anything,” she hissed like a wildcat.
I cocked back an arm and struck her a sharp blow on the jaw, a strong blow. Jennifer’s eyelids fluttered. Her knees wobbled. I’d held back some because I did love her and didn’t want to hurt her. But if I failed to win today—
I struck again, harder, and she slumped unconscious.
I caught her, slinging her prone body over my left shoulder. I found the button for the baton, clicking it off, sticking the baton between my belt and body. I picked up the still-energized force axe—it had been busy digging ever deeper in the pyramid—and began to jump down from one tier to another.
I had reverted to type, becoming a Star Viking once again. Like any good raider, I’d selected my prize, a beauty beyond compare, and captured her. Now, I was going to kill anyone trying to stop me from taking my war-booty back to my ship.
I laughed recklessly. I was doing it. I was winning. The question was, could I survive long enough to enjoy the heady feeling of ultimate victory?
-86-
Once I reached the main chamber floor, the remaining Abaddon clones went berserk. I wasn’t expecting that. They teleported at me, charging, shouting, clawing, shooting, swinging, trying desperately to either kill me or stop me from taking Jennifer from them.
The massive, towering clones still moved in slow motion. Only their teleportation was fast.
I slew with the force axe. It was unfair because I still moved at hyper-speed. But it was heady and enjoyable to an intense degree. Let them come to me to die. I would happily oblige.
The ferociousness of the attack told me that Jennifer must have programmed them to do anything they could to save her. That programming was now resulting in their slaughter. Perhaps the programming had helped keep them in submission to her. I couldn’t blame Jennifer for it. But this evidence of her action helped prove the dictum that dictatorships were among the easiest forms of government to topple. All you had to do was decapitate—nullify the leader—and everything else fell to pieces.
My arm grew weary, and I began to pant. Dead and still-falling clones littered the main chamber floor.
Then, I was alone but for Jennifer still limply draped over my shoulder. No more clones teleported at me to die. No more clones stood in the vast chamber. The Plutonians no longer fired for the simplest of reasons. The slugs had all fled from the chamber.
I looked up at the screens. Something was wrong. I pinpointed it almost right away. More battleships, hundreds of battleships, docked along the outer hull of the PDS were powering up as if to leave the station.
I did not understand, unless the fleeing Plutonians had caused that.
I wondered, in that microsecond, how the slugs had managed to get out of here so quickly. The battle in the chamber had not lasted long in real time. How had they gotten off the higher wall-stations? I hadn’t recalled seeing any slugs leaping off or glopping onto the floor.
There was something strange going on.
I raced to Ella, who stood beside a badly wounded Abaddon clone. It was Saul. She’d pasted several pseudo-skins onto his body. Golden ichor pooled everywhere around him. He seemed unbelievably pale and feeble. I feared Saul was dying.
“Where’s N7?” I asked.
Ella said nothing, just kept staring at me. Then I remembered that she was moving and thinking at regular speed.
I looked around the chamber a last time, and shut off the hyper-speed bands around my neck, wrists and ankles. As I did, overpowering exhaustion and weakness struck. Intense lethargy threatened to drag me unconscious. I fought the feeling.
“Creed,” Ella said, “is something wrong?”
I managed to look at her—and that was the last thing I remembered…
-87-
This time, I almost died from using the hyper-speed bands.
I learned later that Ifness injected himself with stims and used the T-suit to take each of us, one at a time, near the PDS’s outer hull. Then, Ifness had one last mission to perform in true hitman fashion.
He was the consummate professional, knowing that an employer could always sour on him. During the good days with Jennifer, he’d learned to the best of his ability the secrets of the giant PDS. He’d wanted that knowledge in case he had a falling out with her, like now.
But more about that later.
From the new location near the outer hull, Ifness in a phase suit and while out of phase carted me, a phase-suited Ella brought an unconscious Jennifer and N7 hoisted the badly injured Saul. The others had garbed Jennifer, Saul and me with spacesuits and extra air tanks so that we might survive the long journey.
Luckily, Ifness knew the PDS’s layout. He took the others to a chamber where they refilled the thruster-pack tanks. The hitman also knew a trick that helped them move away in spite of the planet’s gross gravitational pull. The trick only worked during out-of-phase flight.
After a harrowing and nerve-wracking ordeal, they made it back to the drifting GEV, depositing me into the stasis tube. The tube immediately began its healing process. They put Jennifer into a sleep-suit and hooked Saul to a special medical bed.
Afterward, N7 began piloting the GEV back to Battlejumper Demetrius.
Unfortunately, Plutonian battleships and cruisers were already passing the stealth ship. The enemy vessels were presumably straining to join the first two fleets that must have almost been in attack position and awaiting the go signal from the PDS.
Finally, Ella revived me in the stasis tube.
I felt like death warmed over, as the saying goes, and it took me a while to even climb out. Leaning heavily against Ella, I shuffled into the piloting chamber. The short journey left me gasping.
Ifness and N7 regarded me. It looked as if they’d been arguing.
Ella filled me in on the relevant details. The murky, gaseous space was filling up with more and more Plutonian warships, ready to pounce on the Earth ships.
“The Plutonians have clearly broken Jennifer’s conditioning,” Ifness said sharply.
I blinked several times before managing to ask, “How do you know?”
“During our commando strike, the slugs fled the Control Chamber,” Ifness said. “Their wall-stations had mini-teleportation pads. That’s how they get up there. After you struck Jennifer, they began teleporting away.
My suspicion is that the blow jarred the mental domination she kept over them.”
“What?” I whispered. “How is that possible?”
“Her domination or that you jarred it loose?” Ifness asked.
“Either, both,” I said.
Ifness shook his head. “You have no idea what you’ve brought onto the GEV. Jennifer is no longer human, not as you conceive of it. Abaddon’s alterations changed more than just her physical appearance and mental state, but gave her increasingly mutating mind powers.”
“You mean like telekinesis and telepathy?”
“No,” Ifness said. “I mean Abaddon-like mental domination and the ability to teleport.”
“Jennifer can do that?”
“She’s learning.”
“She’s become a First One?”
“That’s astute of you,” Ifness said. “Yes. Becoming. She’s becoming like a First One.”
“How is that even possible?”
“For us to change someone like that, it isn’t,” Ifness said. “For Abaddon to slowly transform a little killer into a First One or someone like a First One…that is clearly possible.”
“How?”
“Right,” Ifness said.
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” Ifness said. “But it’s one of the many ways that Abaddon was greater than anyone else. The Abaddon clones were like babies in power and ability compared to their father. None of them would have been able to approach him for a thousand years or more.”
“First Ones can live that long?”
“If they can figure out how, yes,” Ifness said.
“Okay. I don’t have the strength to understand that now.”
“You don’t need to figure it out,” Ifness said. “The point is, because of what you’ve done, the Plutonians are free from Jennifer’s control. That was always the gravest danger. With your blows, you destroyed the delicate balance in her mind. If it’s any consolation, you’ve made it possible for the Plutonians to finally go on their full-scale genocidal galaxy sweep.”
Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5) Page 32
