Vorpal Blade (ARC)

by John Ringo

  The thing was fast. It was on him before he could trigger more than two rounds from each pistol, but he was biting down on his fire clamp at the same time and looking right down the thing's throat.

  The 7.62 mm rounds chewed into the back of the beast's mouth, ripping the soft flesh but not stopping it; the thick bone on that portion of the head caused them to do no more than embed in flesh. It was hurt but nothing the Gatling could do was going to kill it.

  The .50 caliber rounds, however, punched through the bone. One buried itself in still more bone in the thick skull of the beast. Another ricocheted down and out, punching a hole in the bottom of the monster's mouth. The third ricocheted down its throat, lodging deep in the neck of the beast in a spot that would, eventually, kill it.

  The fourth, however, punched through a thick ridge of bone, then struck the beast's backbone, cracking a vertebra and severing its spinal cord.

  The dragon dropped ten feet from Berg, its mouth still thrashing open and closed and its body thrashing. But it had no voluntary control over its limbs, which rattled in convulsions, shaking the refractory walls of the tunnel and causing rocks to drop from the ceiling.

  "Grapp me," Berg muttered, sliding forward on his board and emptying his pistols into the thing's head. He stayed up near the ceiling, avoiding the clashing teeth, until it finally gave a shudder and died.

  "We're blown," Captain MacDonald said. "Move up the pace. Alpha Team, point."

  "Grapp, grapp, grapp," Berg muttered, reloading.

  "Are you sure it's dead?" PFC Wangen asked as he flew past. As he said it, the thing convulsed again, shaking down more rock.

  "It's as dead as I can make it," Two-Gun said, jacking a round into the chamber of the converted rifle.

  "Two-Gun," Top said. "Close up behind Bravo Team."

  "Aye-aye, Top," Berg said tiredly. He didn't look at the bodies of Hatt and Jaen as he passed. The Marines made a big thing of leaving no wounded or dead behind. But there were times when it just wasn't feasible to try. Maybe, if any of them survived, they could pick up Hatt and Jaen. If they could get the armor cut off.

  If any of them survived this grapping madhouse.

  "Contact!" Staff Sergeant Sutherland shouted.

  * * *

  "We're up to nineteen contacts," the Tac NCOIC said.

  "Fine," Lieutenant Souza said, tapping at his computer.

  "Closure rate is forty kkps on the nearest. Ten minutes until we are in range of their lasers."

  "I can see that," Lieutenant Souza said. "Just keep an eye out for new tracks. I'll send over the fire spread as soon as I'm done with it."

  "Yes, sir," the chief petty officer said.

  * * *

  The smaller Demons fell in windrows to the fire of the Gatlings as the Marines pressed forward. Alpha Team had formed a stack with the two Gatling gunners low and the grenadier high. Any of the Demons who survived their assault were being picked off by Bravo.

  But there was one problem.

  "I'm clocking out!" Wangen screamed.

  "Bravo, move forward," Lieutenant Berisford said. "Alpha, prepare to pass Bravo forward."

  "Aye, aye, sir," Sutherland said. "Wanker, split right and lift . . ."

  The two lower boards separated and lifted, maintaining fire, as Bravo Team came in low and under them and took over fire.

  "Sir, there's light up ahead," Staff Sergeant Sutherland reported. "And increased particle emissions, mostly mesons."

  "Roger," Lieutenant West said. The platoon leader was just about the last officer left in the company except for the CO. "Commander Weaver? We've got meson emissions ahead."

  "Could mean anything," Weaver said. "Let's see what's up there."

  "Demons are discontinuing assault, moving forward," Staff Sergeant Sutherland said then gasped. "Sir . . . I'm not sure how to evaluate this."

  * * *

  "This is my suggestion on spread, sir," Lieutenant Souza said, shooting the plan over to the CO's station. "It should take out the closest seven groups. But after that, we're out of ammo. And the trailing four, unless one closes on the bursts, are going to catch us short of warp point."

  "Best we can do, Lieutenant," the CO said calmly. "We'll try to hold them off with the lasers until we can escape."

  "Yes, sir," Souza said, knowing full well that was pissing in the wind.

  "You have control over missile weapons systems," the CO said, reaching over and inserting his key. One turn was all it took to open up the long-range missiles.

  "Very well, sir," Souza said. "Load all torpedo tubes. . . ."

  * * *

  The cavern was high and round, looking very much like a natural bubble in the rock. It also appeared to be a dead-end. And its contents were anything but natural.

  "Is that Dreen fungus?" Weaver asked, looking at the round patch of mossy substance that seemed to be rippling as if from some unseen wind. It was located on the east wall of the chamber, about twenty feet across and flanked by strange protuberances that looked something like fungi.

  "Wrong color," Chief Miller said, flicking on his white-light flash. The chief had outfitted himself not only with a Gatling, but with one of the remaining .50 caliber rifles. "I think it's got to be some sort of door. All the Demons we passed couldn't have come out of this chamber."

  "Yeah," Weaver said. "But how do we open it?"

  "Why open it?" Miller asked. "Set the damned munitions here and blow the chamber. That should stop the Demons."

  "I know how to open it," Miriam said, sliding forward on her board. "And we need to."

  "Why?" Miller asked.

  "Because we have to know where the door goes," Miriam said cryptically, then squeaked on the external speakers.

  Lady Che-chee slid forward on her own board and looked at the strange material. She squeaked at Miriam, who gestured forward.

  Lifting slightly, the Lady flew over the Marines deployed in front of the moss and hovered between two of the protuberances, right at arm's length. She took off her gauntlets and, reaching out, placed one palm on each of the fungi.

  The moss began rippling harder, then drew back, revealing . . .

  "It's a grapping gate," Miller whispered. "Grapp me."

  . . . a Looking Glass.

  * * *

  "So we pop the damned bomb through the gate then get the hell out," Miller said. "That gives us two weeks to get something better done." The ardune weapon would destabilize the gate for at least that long.

  "The ship was under attack by aerial forces," Weaver said. "They didn't come from this facility. This is just a gateway to the local area. What's through there is the link to other areas, most likely."

  "Then we toss both bombs through the gate," Miller said. "Full yield. Since it's not local, I don't give a maulk what it destroys."

  "No," Weaver said, looking at the gate. "We need to find out where the Demons are coming from. You don't get it. The Cheerick was the key to opening the gate."

  "How do we know?" Miller asked. "We didn't have one of the Marines try."

  "Because Cheerick arms are shorter," Miriam said. "The distance is right for a Cheerick Mother. This facility, these Demons, they have something to do with the Cheerick."

  "Look," Miller said. "You're the boss. We're going to go wherever you say. But I guarantee the other side of that gate is a world of hurt."

  "It might also be the key to saving the ship," Weaver said. "And this world. Captain MacDonald."

  "Done with your council, sir?" the Marine asked.

  "We're going through the gate," Weaver said. "Send one man through. Have him report back if the immediate other side is survivable . . ."

  * * *

  "Two-Gun."

  "Yes, Top?" Berg said, both pistols and his Gatling pointed at the Looking Glass.

  "You get the honor of finding out what is on the other side of that gate," the first sergeant said. "Your job is to enter, determine immediate threat level, then open up a beachhead for follow-on. Do you und
erstand your mission?"

  "Clear, Top," Berg said.

  "Stand by . . . Aye, aye. Two-Gun. Take that beach."

  "Ooo-rah!" Berg shouted, hefting both pistols and charging the gate at a run. "SEMPER FI!"

  35

  Stand My Ground

  Stand my ground, I won't give in

  No more denying, I've got to face it

  Won’t close my eyes

  And hide the truth inside

  If I don't make it, someone else will

  Stand my ground.

  “Stand My Ground”

  Within Temptation

  "Third group, down," the Tac NCOIC said. "Fourth group . . . They're scattering, sir."

  "Let them scatter," Souza said as the SM-9 detonated. The explosion was far enough away that the screens didn't blank. This deep in space there was limited EMP from the explosion so the radars didn't even cycle down.

  "That got most of them," the Tac tech said. "Nine of the fifty still functional. No, two of those are banking off and heading back."

  "Vampire Five detonating," the Tac NCOIC said. "That group didn't scatter and bandit group twelve was close alongside. We got a piece of them."

  The radar screen was cluttered with the oncoming dragonflies. They clearly didn't fear space and they were fast. Their acceleration in space was nearly twice that of the Vorpal Blade, worse than in air. There was no way the ship was going to make it to the warp point before at least five of the bandit groups were on them. And any one could probably destroy the ship at close range.

  "Conn, Tactical," Souza said. "Recommend rotate the ship to bring the lasers to bear . . ."

  * * *

  "There's a ledge," Berg said, as soon as he was through the gate. The words were said through gritted teeth as he instinctively clamped down on his bite-trigger, turning a group of three Demons into paste. "The room's . . ."

  He paused as he adjusted to the scale. Before he could continue his report, First Sergeant Powell was at his side.

  "Holy smoke," Powell said.

  There was quite a bit of that. The chamber was massive, so large that Berg couldn't see to the far side. A giant bowl lit by a bright spot near the center top that was hidden behind wreathes of vapor, it was lined with more of the blue fungus. But what the fungus was extruding . . .

  There were thick lianas that dangled pods. One of them, fortunately about two hundred meters away, popped before his eyes, dropping a Demon onto a ledge similar to the one he occupied. The young Demon, nearly full sized but clearly shaky on his legs, toddled to a nearby pool and began to drink.

  Larger pods moved sluggishly, revealing the figures of beetle Demons and dragons. There were, fortunately, far fewer of those, but the Demon pods . . . there were thousands of them.

  And up near the ceiling, there were pods that sprouted other things. Drying their wings under the actinic light were things that looked like giant dragonflies with blue bodies and red compound eyes. Most of those looked recently hatched, but a few were older and already buzzing around near the ceiling.

  Scattered along the walls and floor were Looking Glasses, hundreds of them.

  The worst part, though, were the already birthed Demons. The chamber was packed with them. Dozens of beetles, at least nine dragons and hundreds of the relatively "smaller" Demons that had wiped out most of the company.

  And they all turned to look at the small cluster of armor gathering on the ledge.

  "Uh, oh," Chief Miller said as he exited the gate.

  "Whoa!" Weaver said as he entered the area. "Well, ain't that something. You were right, Miller. Let's set the bombs and get the hell out of here."

  "No," Miller said, pointing. "Wrong. Under the light."

  The cavern was so overwhelming, Berg had missed it. Right at the center, nearly half a kilometer away, was an arrangement of fungus that seemed to have no functional purpose. There were just arms of fungus, bending inward. And at the center was a black globe.

  "Oh . . . maulk," Weaver muttered.

  "So, rocket scientist," Miller said. "What happens if you drop a bunch of unique quarks into a Chen Anomaly?"

  "I haven't the foggiest," Weaver admitted.

  "Me neither," Miller said. "But my guess is it's bad."

  "What the hell do we do?' Weaver asked.

  "We take Colonel Che-chee down there," Miriam said, suddenly at his elbow. "And she goes into the anomaly."

  Berg had splattered the nearest Demons, but there were others not much farther away. They had apparently gotten over their own shock at the appearance of the Marines and a group of four charged the armored Terrans. Weaver, Berg and Miller blasted them without really thinking about it, but others were coming, including from above them.

  "Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it now," First Sergeant Powell said.

  "First Sergeant," Weaver said. "Leave one team behind to hold this gate. Get everyone else out of here, now!"

  * * *

  "Bandit group eleven closing to laser range."

  "Open fire with both lasers when they bear," the CO said. "XO, get ready for more damage."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the XO said, rolling his eyes. Most of the forward section of the ship was open to atmosphere, the tough steel of the sub slagged into molten ruin. Not only were they missing their sonar but he and the CO no longer had a berth. One more solid hit and tactical and the conn were going to be eating laser fire.

  "Time to warp point?" the CO asked.

  "Two minutes," the pilot said.

  * * *

  "Dragonflies at nine o'clock!" Staff Sergeant Sutherland shouted as the flies dove on the group.

  There were only six of the things capable of flight, but one had already taken out Wangen with an unexpected burst of what looked one hell of a lot like a red-light laser coming out of its eyes. The group of humans and Cheerick had scattered, jinking through the air to avoid the flies' fire as they charged the facility at the center of the cavern.

  "Top!" Berg shouted. "You've got one on your tail!"

  "Well get it off of me!" the first sergeant replied, then cursed. "Oh, the hell with this," he said, spinning in place and firing to the rear.

  The 7.62 mm rounds flew to the side of the fly then tracked back, ripping into its face.

  "Oo-rah," the first sergeant said, spinning back around. ".308 takes them out."

  "Two-Gun, scissor!" Corwin shouted, zooming left. A Dragonfly banked to engage him and came right into Berg's sights.

  "Scratch two!" Berg said then ducked as a board nearly knocked him off his feet. "Watch it!"

  Sergeant Cha-chai barreled onward, then reached up and swept back, ripping off the wing of a dragonfly that had been closing on Berg.

  "Thanks, Cha-chai!" Berg yelled over the external speakers.

  The last fly was shot down by First Sergeant Powell and the group of humans and Cheerick charged onward. The flies were fast but they weren't maneuverable in the confines of the cavern, the only thing that had kept casualties down.

  However, they were going to have to land. And the monsters on the ground had been following their progress hungrily.

  "Lady Che-chee," Miriam said, flying alongside the old warrior's board. "I need you to take my hand. We are going into that black ball."

  "Very well, Miss," Lady Che-chee said. "Together we shall triumph over any enemy."

  "I'm not sure there's an enemy on the far side," Miriam said. "But we shall see . . ."

  * * *

  "Burn-through!" the Tac tech shouted. "Laser One is down! Laser Two is down!"

  "Nothing more we can do here," Lieutenant Souza said, standing up. Even through his space suit he could feel the heat from the lasers that were lashing the hull. "Chief, evacuate the compart—"

  The lasers from group fourteen finally burned through the steel of the hull and lashed the compartment, ripping through the targeting system, the tech and Lieutenant Souza.

  "Everybody out of the pool!" the NCOIC said to the remaining radar tech. "
We are leaving! Conn, Tactical, we are down."

  * * *

  "Engineering, Conn!"

  "Tcharr, Captain," the Adari said, nursing the neutrino generator. The room was hotter than a summer day at Edenasai and the neutrino cannon was glowing the bright white of a metal in a melt. "We took a blast in Engineering. Eng is down."

  "Tcharr, we need more speed! We're getting hammered."

  "I'm giving it all I can, Captain!" Tcharr said, just as another blast of laser fire penetrated the most protected compartment on the ship and a heat spall popped off the cover of the cannon. "She's coming apart!"

  * * *

  "Deploy," Captain MacDonald said as the group landed. The area was clear of the fungus, except for the strange overhanging growths. It was just bare rock, more granite, raised in what would be called a dais if it wasn't so natural looking.

  The Marines fanned out as the smaller, faster Demons closed.

  "Hold this ground," Weaver said as Miriam and Lady Che-chee stepped off their boards. The Royal Guard interleaved themselves with the humans, drawing their long swords and raising their shields. "We have to hold!"

  "The enemy is on my right . . ." Top said.

  "The enemy is on my flank . . ." Captain MacDonald continued.

  "The enemy is to my rear . . ." Lieutenant Berisford finished.

  "I HAVE THEM RIGHT WHERE I WANT THEM!" the entire group of Marines chorused.

  "Open fire!"

  * * *

  "Conn, Tactical, we are evacuating this compartment!"

  "Pilot, rotate the ship," the CO said. "Get some of this fire spread!"

  Three of the groups had closed, coming in not only from straight on but also from the sides, slashing the Blade with laser fire. The ship had breaches in every compartment and was bleeding air and water into space. Even if they could make it into warp, they might not be able to limp back to Earth as damaged as they were.

  "Rotating!" the pilot said as the air suddenly jumped about two hundred degrees.

  "Hit on the sail!" the XO said. "It's . . ."

  The lasers from the dragonflies burned through the sturdy metal of the ship, ripping into the conn and into the XO.