by Alex Kings
The Reckoning
Book 3 of the War of the Ancients Trilogy
A Novel
Alex Kings
Copyright © 2018 Alex Kings
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be redistributed,
photocopied or sold without the author's permission.
To keep up with new releases and get access to extras, visit the author's website at www.AlexKings.com
Contents
Chapter 1: Heat
Chapter 2: Attack
Chapter 3: Radiators
Chapter 4: Escape
Chapter 5: Green Slime
Chapter 6: Everything is Fine
Chapter 7: Testing in the Field
Chapter 8: Liar
Chapter 9: Night on Tethya
Chapter 10: A Potential Asset
Chapter 11: The List
Chapter 12: The Answer is No
Chapter 13: Clandestine Meeting
Chapter 14: Challenge
Chapter 15: Bribes and Blackmail
Chapter 16: We Will Rise to the Call
Chapter 17: You Can't Stop Me
Chapter 18: Laikon
Chapter 19: Office 3447
Chapter 20: Charin
Chapter 21: It's Always Nice to Have Visitors
Chapter 22: Siro
Chapter 23: A Change of Plan
Chapter 24: Under Pressure
Chapter 25: The Petaur Resistance
Chapter 26: Decoy
Chapter 27: Traitor
Chapter 28: Infiltration
Chapter 29: All of Us
Chapter 30: Compromised
Chapter 31: Preparations
Chapter 32: Kestrel
Chapter 33: Liftoff
Chapter 34: Walk Into a Trap
Chapter 35: Dock and Jump
Chapter 36: Out of Time
Chapter 37: Revenge
Chapter 38: Escape
Chapter 39: A Dead Ancient
Chapter 40: Uruth
Chapter 41: Return to the Afanc
Chapter 42: Negotiations
Chapter 43: Drilling for Nerves
Chapter 44: We Will Repel Them
Chapter 45: First Wave
Chapter 46: Gravity
Chapter 47: Weapons Albascene
Chapter 48: Contact
Chapter 49: Help
Chapter 50: All Lost
Chapter 51: Maybe Later
Chapter 52: Not Easy At All
Chapter 53: Immature Battleships
Chapter 54: Defenders
Chapter 55: Dawn
Chapter 56: Our Rightful Place
Chapter 57: I Want a Planet
Chapter 58: Uruth the Hiveless
Chapter 59: Discovery
Chapter 60: Four out of Four
Chapter 61: Let's Go
Chapter 62: Pass the Parcel
Chapter 63: Savage Light
Chapter 64: Empty City
Chapter 65: Drawing
Chapter 66: A Question, an Appeal, a Gift
Chapter 67: Message to a Friend
Chapter 68: Hi, Milly
Chapter 69: Indomitable
Chapter 70: Jupiter Ablaze
Chapter 71: Diversion
Chapter 72: Why?
Chapter 73: Chase
Chapter 74: Effector Field Tendril
Chapter 75: Our Time is Passed
Chapter 76: A Reunion
Chapter 77: Cantor
Chapter 1: Heat
The light and gravity went out together, leaving Hanson floating in darkness. Bulkheads groaned, and the floor bucked, kicking him upwards. Or in the direction that had previously been upwards, at least.
He raised his hands above his head just in time. A moment later he collided with the CIC's ceiling, absorbing most of the blow with his arms. It was painful but didn't injure him. A series of thuds sounded around him as his officers did the same. Someone grunted in pain.
The ship creaked. Something ticked like cooling metal. The emergency Tritium lights hadn't come on yet. That was worrying.
As soon as he was stable, holding onto a beam in the ceiling, Hanson said, “Report. Lanik?”
“Unhurt, sir,” said Lanik.
“Fermi?”
“Here. I think I've hurt my wrist.”
“Miller?”
“I'm fine, sir.”
“Dunn?”
No response.
“Lieutenant Dunn? Can you hear me?”
Nothing. A moment later, he heard Fermi's voice: “I've found him, sir.” A pause. “Alive, but unconscious.”
Something clicked. An eerie, pale green light filled the CIC. It was weak, just about enough to see by, and made everything seem dreamlike.
Dunn floated near the front of the CIC. A string of tiny droplets trailed between his head and the hard edge of a ceiling beam. Fermi was holding onto his arm.
All the consoles and displays were dead.
“Fermi,” Hanson ordered. “See to Dunn. Miller, see if anything on that console's working. Lanik, can we get out of here?”
They went to work immediately. Fermi pushed off the ceiling and retrieved an emergency medical kit from behind his console. Miller moved towards the console and started checking all the backup emergency options.
“Everything's out,” she reported. “No power at all.”
After some effort, Lanik managed to open the door to the CIC. It looked out onto a ghostly corridor.
Hanson took out his tablet and extended it. Against the green gloom, the light of its screen seemed painfully bright. He dialled it down, then checked. It had no signal from the ship.
He considered his options. The tablets, along with the comms in his suit, could link into their own network, independent of the ship's systems. But right now that wouldn't work: The Dauntless' walls made each room an effective Faraday cage and would block signals.
That left one other option.
Hanson pushed off towards the back of the CIC, where some of the sturdiest bits of the ship's skeleton lay. He held the tablet flat against the bulkhead and used the “adhere” setting on the smart matter. Then he activated the acoustic signal mode.
The effect was invisible, inaudible, but the tablet tapped a staccato pulse against the wall, sending a signal echoing through the bulkheads. Then it listened for a response, filtering out the noise of creaks and groans.
If anyone else had the same idea and connected their tablet to the walls, it should be able to communicate.
One response.
“Hanson here.”
“How glad am I to hear you?” said Agatha. Her voice was distant and distorted, but it was definitely her. Hanson felt himself smile despite the situation.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Deck three, corridor 12, near the aft. We had a breach during a battle that the automated systems didn't seal. I'd just fixed it when the light went out. How are things up there?”
“It looks like we've lost all power,” said Hanson. “I'd guess the reactor and all the backups are down. By the nature of the damage and the quality of this signal, I'd guess we've got multiple stress fractures throughout the ship.”
“That bad, huh?” said Agatha. “One thing, though. If we've lost all power, shouldn't things be getting colder? Because around here it's actually pretty warm. More than usual.”
Hanson's tablet told him someone else had just joined their little network.
“Hello!” Yilva said brightly.
“Where are you?”
“I am in my quarters. No lights, no gravity.”
Hanson recounted his fi
ndings to her, while at the same time calling up a schematic of the ship on his tablet. “We need to get to work,” he said. “First, we need everyone on board with the communications network. Second, we need to fix our power supply.”
“We will have to check the reactor, then go through all primary cables looking for damage. I suggest we start from engineering and work outwards from there,” said Yilva.
“Agreed,” said Hanson. “I want both of you to make your way to engineering. On the way, tell every senior crewmember to set up an acoustic network.”
“Gotcha,” said Agatha.
“Yes, Captain,” said Yilva.
Their signals vanished as they removed their tablets from the walls.
Hanson turned back to the CIC.
“How's Lieutenant Dunn?” he asked.
Fermi looked over. A small cloud of emergency medical equipment floated around his head. “Stable … I think,” he said. “Minor concussion.”
“Get him to sickbay.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant Miller, go with them. And again, tell any senior staff you see to get on the network. Report to me once you're there.”
The two of them left the CIC. On Hanson's tablet, more people were joining the acoustic network.
*
Agatha moved steadily along the corridor, giving the officers Hanson's orders as she floated past.
Rounding a corner, she saw Yilva.
Agatha knew how to move in zero gravity, and all the Alliance crew had training, but Yilva put them all to shame. She glided down the corridor, making it look effortless. That was the advantage of being a gliding creature, Agatha supposed.
Yilva grinned when she saw Agatha, came to a halt, and waved. “Hello!”
Agatha nodded. “Let's get going.”
They proceeded together towards the reactor, Yilva holding back so Agatha could keep pace with her.
Without really thinking about it, Agatha fanned at her face with her hand.
“Tell me I'm not just imagining this,” she said, “but is it warmer than usual?”
Yilva, sailing alongside, turned to look at her. “It is,” she said after a moment. “I had not noticed.” Her eyes widened, and her tail froze. Then she sped up. “We should hurry!” With a swoop of her skin-flaps, she sped up.
Agatha struggled to keep up. “What?” she said.
On the final approach, the temperature rose sharply. Agatha hauled the engine room door open.
Inside, it was like a sauna.
“This is bad,” murmured Yilva. “This is very bad.”
The reactor was the centrepiece of the engine room: A vaguely doughnut-shaped piece of machinery, two decks high, tangled in cables and wires and injector pumps, and all the other fancy engineering gizmos Agatha didn't know the name of. Floating in, she could feel the heat radiating off it. The sensation was like standing in front of a huge bonfire. The engineering team was scrambling about the walls in a blind panic.
Yilva glided up to what, under normal gravity, would have been the upper level. There, the chief engineer, Adams, was working frantically on something.
“Progress?” she asked, looking at his tablet.
Adams shook his head. “Nothing we try is working.”
“What?” said Agatha, pushing off the wall towards them. “Can you please tell me what is going on?”
“The reactor is still active,” explained Yilva. “But the radiators aren't working. So we're building up waste heat inside the ship.”
“It's just going to keep getting hotter until we all cook?”
Yilva nodded, then looked at Adams' tablet. “We've got maybe twenty minutes before the ship becomes uninhabitable.”
Chapter 2: Attack
Low Earth Orbit:
Looking out the window, one wouldn't notice anything unusual. Earth spread about below, a glowing blue and green orb, the shadow of night crawling across Asia towards Europe. Off in the distance, another ship or space station might glint in the distance.
On the tactical screens, it was a different story. Ships swarmed: Dreadnoughts, cruisers, frigates, orbital defence platforms, even hired civilian ships with weapons. Half in a low orbit, half in a high orbit. They waited, weapons bristling, for something to happen.
The story around Mars was the same. Nearly every ship the Solar Alliance had was around one of the two planets, prepared for defence. On the far side of the moon, a six-mile-long laser cannon, the most powerful weapon ever built by mankind, pointed at the skies.
Aboard the dreadnought Untamed, Admiral Chang stood in front of a screen. Fleet Admiral Ashmore, a man with a walrus-like bush moustache and a hooked nose, held his gaze.
“We're ready, sir,” said Chang.
“Good,” said Ashmore.
Silence hung between them. They both knew the stakes. They both knew how outclassed the Alliance fleet was. Yet there still seemed to be something left unsaid.
“They may well be victorious,” said the Fleet Admiral at last. “But we will draw blood, if nothing else. Ashmore out.”
The screen went dead. Chang stared at it for a few seconds, then headed for the CIC. He wondered if they'd even be able to do that much. But Ashmore had insisted they stand and fight. What else was there to do?
The CIC was almost silent, uncertain. Everything felt unreal.
“We have a jump-in.”
The first Ancient ship emerged: An immense crown of thorns, a mass of gnarled black spikes with jagged bolts of violet lightning leaping between them. It came in over the Americas, already scraping the upper atmosphere.
“West Fleet, move to engage,” said Chang, speaking to all the ships around Earth. “Everyone else, hold your position, but fire on the attacker if you're in a line of sight.” He studied the image of the ship and noted a small area where there seemed to be human technology attached. “Concentrate your fire here.”
The Untamed was on the other side of the planet. For the moment, he could do nothing.
Alliance ships converged on the Ancient ship, throwing everything they had at it. Dozens of nuclear explosions became nothing but tiny sparks against its surface. Kinetic bolts hit it at close to the speed of light and erupted into plasma. It swung slowly towards its attackers. It fired. Space rippled in front of it momentarily, hurtled forward, and crushed a dreadnought into shrapnel.
The Alliance ships swarmed it. Its hull lit up under the onslaught, but nothing seemed to hurt it. They were ants attacking a rhinoceros. They danced about trying to evade its weapon, but it picked them off, one by one.
“We've got a hail. It's the Ancient ship,” said the communications officer.
“Put it through to all ships,” said Chang.
The recorded message began, “This is Philip Pierce, leader of the New Terran Dominion. I offer you a final chance to surrender.”
A pause, then came the response from Fleet Admiral Ashworth: “We decline your offer.”
The silence seemed to stretch out. On the tactical display, the Ancient ship had stopped attacking, and now just floated in a low orbit.
“Very well,” said Pierce.
“We've got two jump-ins,” said the tactical officer. “Pardon, make that three.”
“Reports of more Ancient ships jumping in over Mars.”
Chang did his best to ignore the sinking feeling as he pulled up the tactical display and directed the East, North, and South fleets to their respective targets.
Two more ships collapsed.
“We've lost the Redoubt and the Mettlesome.”
“Defence platforms 11 through 52 have been destroyed.”
“Target is undamaged.”
“Lunar defence laser destroyed.”
“The Gallant has been destroyed.”
“I'm detecting another jump-in.”
The CIC shook as a glancing blow sheared off one of their sublight engines. The lights flickered.
“Sir,” said the tactical officer. “The Defiance has been destroyed. F
leet Admiral Ashmore is dead.”
Chang nodded. He looked across the four overhead displays, each showing a scene of fiery destruction.
“We need to retreat,” he said.
The CIC crew stared at him.
“But, sir. Earth … ”
“We've lost Earth,” said Chang. “And Mars, and the entire system. But we don't have to lose the fleet.” He looked around at his crew. “There's no honour in throwing your life away for no reason. Not when you have the option to fight another day. Transmit my order to the fleet: Prepare to pull out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Something occurred to Chang. He checked the tactical display. “Who's over the British Isles?”
“The Fury.”
“I want them to send a shuttle to the surface.”
Chapter 3: Radiators
Agatha and the others had retreated from the engine room to the marginally cooler corridor outside. She listened while Yilva and Adams explained the problem to Hanson through a tablet mounted on the wall.
“If the cables are damaged, couldn't we rewire them?” Hanson asked, his voice distorted by the lagging signal.
“It is not just the cables,” Yilva said. “The generator is out of alignment. To fix it, we would have to shut down the reactor and dump the plasma.”
“And we can't dump the plasma,” Adams said, “because those systems are damaged too. They'd take an hour to repair, at least.”
“Well, we could dump the plasma, but it would go inside the ship instead of into space. That would be bad.”
“Any other ideas?” said Hanson.
Yilva and Adams looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously.
“Nothing that would work in the allotted time,” said Yilva.
Agatha wiped her brow and flicked the sweat off her hand. It hung in front of her face as a myriad baubles, glowing green in the emergency lights. “Could use the shuttles,” she said.
Yilva turned to stare at her.
“How?” said Hanson.
“Rewire them or something? They have their own reactors, right?”
“A shuttle's reactor wouldn't power the whole ship,” said Adams.
“It doesn't need to! Just the radiators,” said Agatha.
