Ix Incursion: The Chaos Wave Book 2

by James Palmer

  “We could set off an EMP,” said Cade.

  Leda shook her head. “There’s no way to know it would work on them, and we’d lose vital systems.”

  Hamilton’s cochlear implant chimed. “Yes?”

  “Sir, it’s Sergeant Ellison.”

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?” said Hamilton.

  “Not with all this going on. I’m fine. Rogers and I are picking up Straker’s trail. Sir, there are three dead Ix in Corridor 9.”

  “Dead? How?”

  “I don’t know, sir. One of their heads has been ripped clean off, and the other two slagged in half by one of their own plasma weapons. We have secured the other two weapons.”

  “They have no defense against their own weaponry,” Hamilton said to Leda. “Clearly losing a plasma rifle in battle has never come up. We can use that.” To Ellison he said, “Find whoever or whatever did this. And if you see any Ix, test those new weapons of yours on them.”

  “With pleasure, sir. Ellison, out.”

  That tactical display lit up anew as more blips appeared, this time signaling the arrival of Admiral Lang and the rest of the fleet. Drizda’s Archive continued blasting at the Ix vessels, while swarms of the small, razor-winged craft vanished in gouts of blue light as they struck the Archive’s newly erected deflector grid.

  This, combined with the fleet’s sudden arrival seemed to have caught the Ix off guard, if only momentarily, and Hamilton watched through the viewer, amazed, as one by one the strange, blue metal ships fled the system.

  “Sir,” said Brackett. “It’s Admiral Lang. He requests a status report.”

  “Give him an update, Lieutenant,” said Straker. Commander, let’s go survey the damage. Leda?”

  Hamilton turned to where his second in command was standing moments earlier. She was lying on the floor unconscious.

  Chapter Thirty-Three:

  The Straker-Thing

  Sergeant Ellison’s head throbbed in time to the distant warning klaxon. Her body still ached from a section of ceiling blowing out and falling on top of her. She knew there would be additional pains she wouldn’t feel until tomorrow, but only if she lived long enough to experience them. She hefted the strange alien weapon in her hands. It was surprisingly light for a gun so large, lighter even than their plastic needle rifles, and glittered weirdly in the pulsing red warning lights that dotted the corridor at regular intervals, a continual reminder of the danger they were in.

  “Pretty nice hardware, hey, Sarge?”

  She turned to her right to see Rogers grinning stupidly, holding his pilfered Ix weapon proudly in his hands.

  “It sure is,” she said. “Just be careful where you point that thing.”

  “Only at the bad guys, Sarge,” the big blond Marine promised.

  Ellison regarded her own weapon curiously, amazed it was still firing. She had slagged several Ix warriors with it, and it never lost its charge. The housing was still cool to the touch, and Ellison wondered what its power source could be. But that was a question for another time. Let the Solar Navy’s engineers figure it out, once this was over and the Ix were all dead or sent packing back to wherever the hell they came from.

  Ellison edged out into the main corridor, which was empty. They hadn’t caught up with the whoever or whatever had killed three of the Ix, but they were getting close. In the meantime they had managed to slag several of the aliens themselves with their own weapons, which Rogers seemed keen on collecting as trophies. He had an extra slung over his back. “For one of the men,” he had explained. Ellison had merely nodded. It wasn’t a bad idea. With enough of the Ix’s own weaponry, they just might be able to turn the tide. Especially if they could reverse engineer the technology.

  “Coast is clear,” said Ellison. “Let’s move.”

  She stepped out into the corridor, making sweeping motions with the huge Ix gun while Robers did the same behind her, covering the rear.

  With any nonessential personnel confined to quarters, the Zelazny seemed like a deserted derelict. She wished she had more of her men on hand, but everyone had been scattered fighting the Ix. She called out to them through her cochlear implant, but only received frightened, faraway voices and tachyon static. The Ix, she knew, had decimated her squad. She wondered how many Ix that she had killed had just an hour before been a human being, a Marine? She forced such thoughts out of her head and continued up the corridor, senses honed for any danger they might encounter.

  Ellison heard movement up head, just around a bend in the corridor. It sounded like the rending of metal. She slowed her approach, Rogers spinning around to walk slowly beside her as they came upon the source of the noise. Its giant glittering back was facing them. It was an Ix, at least that’s what Ellison thought at first. It looked like it was rummaging through parts, but as her eyes adjusted to the light-washed gloom she could see that it was slowly and methodically taking apart an Ix. Its pincers rummaged through the dead alien’s carapace, holding up pieces and examining them like a kid taking apart his first slate.

  Rogers leveled the plasma rifle and pressed the trigger to prime it. The opening at the other end began heating up, which caught their target’s attention. It raised itself to its full height, dropped the pieces of the Ix it had dismembered, and spun on them.

  Ellison was horrified by what she saw. The top left quadrant of the creature’s face was human, and familiar.

  “Straker,” she said.

  It seemed to recoil at the name, and went to raise its weapon. Rogers fired before the Straker-thing could bring its own weapon to bear, striking it a glancing blow to the shoulder. It stumbled backward, firing its plasma rifle as Ellison and Rogers scattered to opposite sides of the corridor. The plasma beam struck the spot where the Marines had once stood, melting a hole in the deck.

  Ellison and Rogers returned fire, sending the Straker thing into a panic. It screamed something in comprehensibly alien at them before turning and bounding far up the corridor and out of firing range.

  “I hit it,” said Rogers. “But I don’t think I did much damage. What makes him so tough?”

  Ellison shook her head and tapped an aug on the left side of her head. Her cochlear implant chimed, signaling an open tightbeam channel. “Captain? It’s Ellison. We know what has been killing the Ix. It’s Straker.”

  * * *

  The Straker-thing continued running up the corridor. It felt as if it could keep up this pace for hours, days. Maybe forever.

  That’s when it stopped. Fool, it thought. Why did you run? If it could take apart the Ix with its bare pincers it could make short work of a couple of human Marines.

  Still thinking like a human.

  But he wasn’t anymore, was he? He was something else. Not Ix, not like he wanted. But maybe he was something better, something greater, than both. Maybe in seeking divine wrath for the human race he had somehow become a god.

  He laughed at this, the insectoid sound he made no longer filling him with revulsion. He thought about what he must do next. He would have his divine retribution, but not today. The Ix were already leaving the system, temporarily routed for the first time in their long memory. He could sense them going.

  He couldn’t stay aboard the Zelazny. He had many new advantages, that was true. But he was only one, while the humans were many. And they had Ix weapons. He could carve a swathe of blood and death through this entire ship, but in the end they would find him and kill him.

  Proxima, he sent with his mind, hoping portion of his human brain containing his cochlear implant remained. Can you hear me?

  Yes, said his ship.

  Good. Come and get me.

  The Straker-thing stepped back from the wall he had been leaning against. If his calculations were correct, this was an outer section of bulkhead. He raised the Ix weapon—his weapon—and fired a powerful stream of plasma that caused the bulkhead to flare white hot before dissolving away, letting the sudden vacuum suck him out into the void.

  Chapter Thirt
y-Two:

  Dying

  Captain Hamilton crouched beside Leda Hamilton, his right hand cupping her head. There were a million myriad things requiring his attention. Warning klaxons screaming at him. Admiral Lang on the tightbeam demanding a full report of all that had transpired since routing the Wanderers. Brackett saying something about a new hull breach on Deck Eleven. But he didn’t have time for any of that right now. All of his focus was on Leda. If anything happened to her…

  “Leda. Can you hear me?”

  In moments a young medic appeared, passing his diagnostic gauntlet slowly over Leda’s body.

  “What is it?” Hamilton asked.

  The medic shook his head. “I’m not sure. According to her vitals she’s perfectly healthy. I think it’s the nanocircuitry. It’s doing something to her, rewiring her body somehow. The ship, the environment. It’s killing her.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know, sir. But we’ve got to get her into stasis until we can figure it out.”

  “Do it,” Hamilton snapped.

  Minutes later there were three med techs placing Leda on an automated stretcher and guiding it off the command deck. Hamilton stared after them for a long time.

  Everything that happened after that was a blur, even his heated chat with Admiral Lang, who was upset that the Wanderers had neither been destroyed nor rallied to the League’s cause. Hamilton went through the motions, but all he could think about was Leda. When things had returned to a more normal state, Hamilton excused himself and rushed to the medical bay, where Leda lay in a stasis machine.

  “How is she?”

  Dr. Moira Talbot rushed up to meet him. “I’m sorry, Captain. There’s been no change. If anything, she’s getting worse.”

  “How? I need to know what is happening to my first officer.”

  Dr. Talbot nodded. “The best we can determine is the nanocircuitry is causing it. It’s changing her right down to the DNA. The ship has become an alien environment to her. Everything around her is suddenly toxic.”

  Hamilton stared down at his first officer, feeling helpless. “OK. What environment won’t be alien to her?”

  Dr. Talbot shook her head. “We don’t know. Not until we run some more tests. I don’t even know that we can build an artificial environment suited for her. And even if we could, she’d be trapped inside some hyperbaric chamber for the rest of her life.”

  Hamilton stood there, thinking. Finally he turned and went toward a tightbeam interface set in the far wall of the med bay. He tapped the diskey and spoke, “Hamilton to Drizda. Are you there?”

  “I’m here, Captain,” said the Draconi scientist. “Is there a problem?”

  “It’s Leda. She’s collapsed. The medics say she’s dying, that her body is being transformed by the nanocircuitry. I thought Sigma Prime might have an answer.”

  “Hold please,” said Drizda. Several seconds passed before she spoke again.

  “Sigma Prime suggests you bring her over here immediately. She wants to examine her.”

  Hamilton glanced at Dr. Talbot, who shrugged slowly.

  “Ordinarily I wouldn’t advise moving someone in Commander Niles’ condition. But, honestly, she’s dead either way. I’m sorry.”

  “We’ll see about that, Doctor. Prep her to move as fast as you can. I’ll take her over to Archive A in a shuttle myself.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three:

  Choices

  Captain Noah Hamilton stood silently, helplessly, nervously, while Sigma Prime examined Leda. Drizda and Hemlock had carefully removed her from the stasis unit and placed her gently upon a raised dais that had been extruded from the Archive’s floor for that purpose, and was enveloped in a golden shaft of light that emitted from another structure that had sprouted from the foot of the dais like an alien flower. Alien readouts flickered, displaying Progenitor glyphs that Hamilton didn’t recognize.

  The conjoined Draconi twins, Zarl and Tarl, stood nearby, both watching what was happening with great interest, their tongues flicking from their mouths at intervals. Corporal Hemlock, the capable Nightshade, leaned against a piece of equipment, his arms crossed over his chest, a look of concern on his face for his friend.

  After several standard minutes the beam finally dissipated, leaving a strange amber cloud that hovered around Leda’s unconscious form. “Well?” said Hamilton.

  She is much changed.

  Hamilton glanced toward the ceiling. Without a clear source for the alien intelligence’s voice, it was hard to know where to look. “What does that mean?”

  The nanocircuitry has done its work. She belongs to the Light of Ages now.

  Hamilton scowled, expelling a shaky breath. “I’m tired of all these riddles. What does that mean?”

  “It means that if she remains here, she will die,” said Drizda, moving around the dais to fix Hamilton with a steady gaze.

  Hamilton stared at his boots. “That’s pretty much what our ship’s medical officer said.”

  “The choice is a clear one,” said Drizda. “We must find the Light of Ages now. For all our sakes, and for hers.”

  “We can’t,” said Hamilton. “We’re under orders. The Ix are destroying both our fleets. Our homeworlds are next.”

  “What?” said Hemlock, flexing his fingers. He looked ready to fight.

  Hamilton looked at him and nodded. “Things are bad, Corporal. Very bad. We won today, but I don’t think we did anything but catch them off guard. They won’t underestimate us again.”

  “Well,” said Hemlock, “if this Light of Ages is a weapon, shouldn’t we do our level best to find it?”

  “You sound just like Commander Niles.”

  Hemlock uncrossed his arms and stepped forward. “With all due respect, sir. I think this is bigger than Commander Niles. I think she knows that.”

  Hamilton regarded him for a moment before returning his attention to Leda. “Can everyone give us a minute?” he said without looking up.

  Drizda nodded once and herded Hemlock and Zarl and Tarl to the far side of the vast open space. Hamilton knelt by the dais and took Leda’s right hand. It was cool to the touch.

  “Leda,” he said softly. “This is all my fault. The reason I haven’t already sent us off in search of the Light has nothing to do with duty or honor or orders, at least not entirely. It has to do with you, with losing you. I want you by my side, always. Even if it means we will die together. That’s stupid and selfish, I know but—”

  Leda raised her right arm suddenly and slapped Hamilton across the face. He winced, touching his cheek and staring down to find her staring back up at him.

  “What the hell was that for?”

  “For taking so long to tell me how you felt.” Leda raised herself to a sitting position and kissed Hamilton on the lips.

  “How are you feeling?” he said.

  “Better. I think Sigma Prime is compensating for me with the environmental controls.”

  “I was wrong before,” said Hamilton. “I’ll take you to find the Light of Ages. Maybe saving the human race trumps getting a court martial.”

  There is another option, said the Progenitor AI.

  Hamilton arched an eyebrow. “We’re listening.”

  We can take Commander Hamilton in search of the Light of Ages, while you remain here and fight with your people.

  Hamilton nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I wish we still had those Archives though.”

  More have been summoned. And I will construct a device that will allow you to direct them.

  Hamilton frowned, considering this. He looked at Leda. “I suppose Lang wouldn’t mind your absence. He was never keen on the Archives’ presence anyway. If I can strengthen our coalition with the Draconi, build a strong fleet using them and the Archives, we might just be able to hold them off long enough to retrieve the Light of Ages and get back here.”

  “And if not?” said Zarl.

  Hamilton shrugged. “Then it won’t matter anyway.”

>   Tarl clicked his teeth together. “I like these humans,” he said.

  “As do I,” added Tarl.

  “You are under no obligation to remain with us,” Drizda told them. “You have been put upon enough.”

  Zarl waved this away with a clawed hand. “Nonsense.”

  “We relish the adventure,” said Tarl.

  “We’re with you,” said Zarl.

  “Until the bitter end,” Tarl finished.

  “I’m with you too,” added Hemlock.

  “That settles it, then,” said Hamilton. Turning to Leda he said, “Will you be all right?”

  Leda nodded. “I will now. Thank you, Noah. This is the right thing to do, no matter what the regulations say.”

  Hamilton nodded slow, appraising her one last time. “OK then. When will the other Archives arrive?”

  Within one of your standard hours.

  “Terrific,” said Hamilton. “I’ll need that control unit, and instructions on how to use it, by then.”

  You’ll have it.

  “I’ll get you some weapons, food rations, and survival gear,” said Hamilton to the others. He stood, leaned over, and planted a kiss on Leda’s forehead. “Good luck,” he said as he left the vast space and returned to his shuttle. He thought about what Admiral Lang would think about all this, but then decided that he didn’t care. The Archives and Draconi were effectively under his command. He could do what he wanted. He just hoped it was the right thing.

  Chapter Thirty-Four:

  Separate Ways

  Captain Noah Hamilton stared at the waist high, metallic plinth with a standard diskey embedded in the top of it that was now installed within arm’s reach of his command chair. He had already familiarized himself with the controls. The seven Archives it controlled were coming into viewer range a few thousand kilometers above the ecliptic, massive, empty alien structures that were now solely his to command. He grinned at them through the viewer. It was fitting that it was a prime number of them, and he already had a plan for how he might use them in the final conflict to come.