The Battle for Terra Two bw-2
Page 18
"Certainly looks like Terra One," said D'Trelna. He sat at the flag officer's station, watching Australia and New Zealand roll by on the main screen.
"The population centers are smaller," said K'Raoda, reading a comparison scan. "Sydney and Melbourne are about a third the size of their alternates."
"We'll be coming up on the Maximus site in a moment," said T'Ral. "No ship traces… wait.
"Scanning a Probe class scout, mark one-three, two-one-four."
"Gunnery," said D'Trelna, "standby. Target coming up."
T'Ral read a new scan. "Negative life support. Negative drive core flow to hull jump nodules." He looked up, surprised. "She's a derelict."
"Abandoned," said K'Raoda, reading his own telltales. "Why?"
"Maybe to augmentV'Tran's' drive," said D'Trelna. "If the machines' universe isn't on the next plane to this one, like Terra Two, they may need more power to punch through."
"How'd they get that scout here?" said K'Raoda. "Piece by piece through the Maximus portal," said T'Ral.
"He's right," said D'Trelna. "That scout's no larger than one of our shuttles.
"If we haven't picked up traces of our destroyer by the time we reach Maximus, deploy scanning satellites."
"Got them," said T'Ral a few moments later, as they passed over California. Computer recorded without comment a coastline radically different than that of Terra One.
"Mark one-seven, five-two-nine-just above…" He frowned. "They're creating a portal. Same general parameters as Maximus and the space portals-some minor energy anomalies."
"Scan to screen," said D'Trelna. His eyes narrowed as the scan graphics came up: two green points of light equidistant from a single circle-a circle that grew larger as they watched. Targeting data began threading across the board.
"No shield," said K'Raoda. "They're diverting all energy to the portal."
"That'sV'Tran 's Glory, all right," said D'Trelna, reading the data.
"Coming within their scan range," said T'Ral.
"Sitting up here bare-assed." The commodore punched into the commnet. "Gunnery. D'Trelna. Imperiad one-seven to Archon five. Take targeting feed and blow that ship away."
"Acknowledged," said B'Tul. "Destroy target."
"Attention. Attention." It was computer-calm but very loud. "The portal has closed. The portal has closed."
They all looked up at the screen. The two green lights and the black were still there, the black continuing to expand.
"Computer-verify," said D'Trelna, annoyed.
"Our portal, Commodore," said T'Ral, checking a permanent rearward scan. "Our portal is gone!"
"Verified," said computer. "Portal to Terra One is gone."
"K'Tran!" D'Trelna lunged for the commlink. "Gunnery. Redoubt one to flanking commander two. Abort that kill order!"
"Order aborted, Commodore," said B'Tul. "Just."
"Machine failure?" suggested K'Raoda. "K'Tran," repeated D'Trelna. "Gunnery. Take outV'Tran 's' shield nexus."
Far amidships, in gunnery control, BTul called up a projection ofV'Tran's Glory. Marking the forward shield nexus in flashing amber, he fed in the targeting data and pushed "Execute."
A stylus-thin red beam flicked from the number seven fusion battery, spanned two and half thousand miles of space and disintegrated a hull relay pod the size of a geode.
"Shield nexus destroyed, Commodore," reported the gunner.
"Very well."
"Something unwholesome is coming through the portal very soon," said D'Trelna as they continued to close on the two ships, "or they'd have run."
He turned toward Engineering. "Lock a tractor beam on that ship, N'Trol. Pull it away from the portal," he said. "Carefully. It's our only way home."
Shalan-Actal flicked from the auxiliary command post, deep in the Vermont granite beneath Maximus, to the bridge ofV'Tran's Glory. Four transmutes worked the instruments, teleporting between twenty-four bridge stations. At the twenty-fifth station a bubble hovered above the command chair. About five feet in diameter, its interior swirled with a sullen red haze.
You and we haven't much time, said the Tactics Master.
We have enough time, replied a chill thought. We are within the prescribed area. When this flashes, a blue beam sprang from the top of the bubble, touching a telltale, our portals are joined. Reinforcements will pour through. Nothing can stop us.
You were stopped twice before-banished from this reality, said Shalan-Actal. By the Empire and by the Trel of prehistory.
The crimson mist swirled darker. The Empire is dust. The Trel less than that.
You are about to be tractor-towed and boarded. The K'Ronarins need that portal device. They are many, we and you are few. They will retake this ship.
Not before the Armada of the One is here. Our ships carry many such portal devices. We will retake the Home Universe. We will find the Betrayer.
The telltale flashed blue.
Victory, said bubble.
K'Ronarin commandos have penetrated the breeding vaults! came the distant alert. They're firing the chambers!
I will not save you at our expense, said the transmute, antennae weaving in agitation. You are on your own, Forward Commander of the One.
Shalan-Actal flicked back to Maximus, taking the handful of S'Cotar from the ship with him.
The last hundred warriors of the once Infinite Hosts of the Magnificent huddled in the old British barracks, sheltering around propane heaters from the blizzard howling under the eaves. Hatched and raised in dry, warm caverns beneath Terra's Moon, serving mostly aboard starships, this was their first exposure to a planet's wilder elements. They stood in small, uncertain groups, feet shuffling uneasily in the flickering light from the emergency generator.
Take arms! ordered the Tactics Master. The K'Ronarins are torching the last hope of the Race!
The blast was still echoing when L'Wrona ducked into the hole. Following, John saw a dark blur of himself, mirrored in the fused black surface of the blasthole; then he was through, standing on a gray granite floor.
"Good God!" He looked up and around. "It's huge."
Ringed by catwalks, the breeding vault soared fifteen levels-thousands of small hexagonal chambers, all a misty jade-green. Gray equipment banks filled the half mile of floor, red-white light pulsing along scan and control feeds up to the chambers. Half a dozen unarmed S'Cotar techs lay dead, cut down by the K'Ronarins.
L'Wrona twisted his blaster muzzle right, two soft clicks. "First squad, set weapons on diffused beam," he ordered as the last of the commandos entered the cavern. "Fire those cells. The rest of you, high alert." Aiming two-handed at the top tier of cells, he pulled the trigger, sweeping the broad beam slowly along the cell walls.
"It certainly is 'volatile,' " said Hochmeister, standing beside John. The two shielded their eyes as fierce green-tinged flames leaped toward the ceiling.
Fire raced along the catwalks as the commandos emptied their chargepaks into the walls. Thick, pungent smoke drifted down.
"S'Cotar!" shouted a commando.
Shalan-Actal and his force materialized in the vault's center. Blasters shrilled, blue-and-red bolts knifing through the smoke.
Choking, tears streaming down his face, John held his fire again and again as uncertain targets drifted through the smoke.
Something shoved him, hard. Caught off balance, he sprawled to the floor as a burning section of fused wall fell, exploding where he'd stood, showering him with molten fragments.
A thin hand reached down. John took it, letting Hochmeister help him up. The admiral tried to speak, then coughed. Shaking his head, he pointed toward the blasthole. John nodded. Together, they staggered toward the tunnel.
"Out!" L'Wrona ordered over the commnet. "Fall back!"
Feeling their way along the wall, John and Hochmeister made it to the blasthole.
The smoke wasn't as bad in the tunnel. Others staggered after them, choking and coughing, throwing themselves to the floor and the fresh stream of c
old, clear air.
It slept, dimly aware that it was many yet one. Sleeping, it grew, the bonds between it entwining and thickening. Sensed but untested, it felt its strength also growing- strength it perceived as a warm glow, having no concept of strength, no concept of anything other than itself. Soon it would awake, an odd child of power, hungry and curious.
The pain struck without warning, a searing, devouring pain.
Wounded, it awoke, child of a warrior race. Terrified and angry, it lashed out.
Wheezing from the smoke, Shalan-Actal dropped Corporal N'Tron. The commando's head lolled to one side, neck broken, eyes blue and startled, staring sightless into the fire.
They are falling back through the blasthole, reported a warrior. Pursue?
One file only. All others, deploy foggers, tiers one through…
The fire went out, like a light turned off. The smoke was gone. The S'Cotar watched, unbelieving, as the breeding chambers repaired themselves, a green blur of speed.
The pain easing, it sought the source. There. Down there.
You are a fool, Shalan-Actal. You were warned about the growth accelerant.
Guan-Sharick? The Tactics Master followed that tendril of thought-within range. He tried flicking himself at it. He couldn't teleport.
It won't let you leave, will it? taunted Guan-Sharick.
What is it? he asked desperately.
Your children, Shalan-Actal. Your children becoming something Else. An angry child, Tactics Master.
The walls began rippling with cold green glow.
Out! ordered Shalan-Actal. Use the K'Ronarin blasthole.
Last one into the drainage pipe, L'Wrona turned, eyes streaming, and rolled a grenade back in. It detonated with a loud blast, blowback exploding into the tunnel, collapsing the blasthole.
The cold green fire left the wall in small clusters, drifting down to where the S'Cotar milled in confusion. Touching warriors' weapons, it released their potential just as the grenade detonated.
19
"Move, you hulk, move!" N'Trol stood at the Engineering station, glaring at the image ofV'Tran's Glory on the main screen. "Half our mass, one-third our power, and it won't budge." The engineer looked down at the tractor-lock readout, not believing. The telltale read force seven- the destroyer should have been trolling toward the cruiser like a hooked game fish.
"Full power," said D'Trelna, watching the screen. The portal continued turning and growing.
"We're at breakpoint, Commodore," said N'Trol. "Tie in more power, we'll be breathing vacuum."
D'Trelna swiveled around, facing the engineer. "Objection noted, Mr. N'Trol. Execute."
"Your ship," he shrugged, engaging override.
Implacablegroaned, engines straining against a seemingly immovable object. Vibrations shuddered down the long miles of the cruiser as the engines whined higher, pressed beyond design tolerance.
"Negative movement!" shouted N'Trol over the din.
"Hull sensors show fault lines-first, third, seventh through…"
"Cut down," ordered D'Trelna.
The engineer's fingers flew over his controls. The whining shuddering died.
"I'll take your damage control reports in a moment, N'Trol," D'Trelna said into the silence.
"Strange energy scan on the Maximus site," reported T'Ral.
"Define 'strange,' " said the commodore.
"Overlapping N-17 and N-30 groupings," said T'Ral, compiling separate readouts. "Fluctuating-every third series peaking five percent higher than the last.''
"The portal's stopped dilating, sir," said K'Raoda.
D'Trelna glanced up. "So it has."
"Well, we know what happens after that, don't we?"
"Sir?" said K'Raoda.
"Birth, idiot," said N'Trol, busy at his station.
"That portal's half the diameter of Terra's moon," said T'Ral. "The baby should be impressive."
"We're just going to sit here and wait?" asked N'Trol, transferring the damage control reports to the commodore's station.
"Mr. N'Trol," said D'Trelna, looking balefully at the engineer, "we may die in a few moments. So let me say that you are one of the finest technical officers I have ever seen-and I've seen a lot."
N'Trol grunted.
"You are also as ungracious, unmannered and selfish as you are competent. Had I my way, you'd be freely discharged and sent home."
"Why, thank you, Commodore."
"But I don't have the authority."
"Captain L'Wrona on tacband, sir."
D'Trelna switched into the pickup. "H'Nar! What's going on down there?"
L'Wrona leaned against the tunnel wall, survival jacket torn, flecked with green blood. His six surviving commandos were behind him, tending their wounds. "We torched and sealed the vault, J'Quel," he said, "but there's something weird happening in there." He stopped, covering his head as the ground rumbled, showering the party with bits of cement. The rumbling ceased. "There's seismic activity- seems to be centered in the vault."
"What's your assessment?"
"The mutation process Guan-Sharick was afraid of-it's here, I think-out of control. Way out of control." He turned his back to the wind knifing down the tunnel. "Maybe we triggered whatever's happening, maybe it's spontaneous."
Across the passageway from L'Wrona, John slumped wearily against the wall, then jerked away, back stinging. "H'Nar!" he called. "This wall's hot!"
Turning, L'Wrona's saw the wall further down the tunnel glowing a sullen red-the air seemed to ripple in the heat. Rivulets of molten rock and cement were forming into fiery streams that inched toward them, slowly swelling.
"Everyone out!" he called, pointing to the entrance. "Make for the river and the opposite shore!"
"She's had it," said Hochmeister, throwing a jacket over a gut-shot commando. He and John followed the others into the night and storm.
"J'Quel, we're out," reported L'Wrona, scrambling down the embankment and out onto the ice. "Commvector a shuttle down to us."
The wind had dropped, but the snow was coming thick, dry and stinging. They trudged in a ragged line across the cleanswept ice, making for the opposite shore.
Hochmeister slipped, starting to fall. An arm shot out, catching him.
"You're taking good care of me, Harrison," he said. "Why?"
"You're going to keep your word to the gangers, Admiral," said John, guiding the other around a suspiciously dark patch of ice. "And for that, you have to be alive."
D'Trelna nodded at a thumbs up sign from K'Raoda. "Your shuttle's on the way, H'Nar," he said over the commlink.
"Acknowledged."
"Here it comes," said T'Ral, looking up at the main screen.
"Gods of my fathers," whispered D'Trelna, rising from his chair.
It was huge-a black sphere hundreds of miles in diameter, emerging slowly from the rippling obsidian of the portal. Not a single light shone from its darkness.
"Computer," said the commodore, finding his voice, "search all data sources for any record of a vessel similar to the one now approaching us.
"K'Lana, give me ship-to-ship, all bands. Gunnery, lock all but one missile battery on that monster. Target that one battery onV'Tran's Glory."
"Commodore," said computer through the chair speaker, "there is an archival reference to ships of this configuration."
"Summarize."
"The data is in the classified portion of the Imperial Archives on K'Ronar. Requests must be made through channels."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"You have ship-to-ship, all bands, Commodore," said K'Lana.
D'Trelna opened the commlink. ' 'This is K'Ronarin Confederation cruiserImplacable. Halt and identify."
Something flashed from the black sphere, now half through the portal. Every screen on the bridge blanked as it exploded against the shield.
"The shield's gone," said T'Ral, incredulous. "Like something swatting a fly."
"N'Trol?" said D'Trelna.
"We may not have to worry about repairs," said D'Trelna.
"Switching to secondary scanners," said K'Raoda.
Their view of the outside came back.
"Burned out all exposed scanners," reported N'Trol, surveying the damage readout.
"Why doesn't it finish us?" said K'Raoda.
"Perhaps we're beneath its contempt," said D'Trelna. "Let's see if we can change that."
"Gunnery, open fire on the sphere-everything we've got."
"Move us in front of that portal, T'Lei."
It had saved itself, becoming flame even as the flames took it. And it had learned, taking the minds of the S'Cotar as they died. Integrating their memories, it saw what they'd attempted and understood their error.
It searched outImplacable and the portal. Finding them, it rose from its fiery creche.
****
They were halfway across the river when the top blew off Maximus, a sudden flash of emerald light sweeping away the dark.
Unbearably bright, a flaming green orb soared into the night and the storm, taking away the light and sending a shock wave crashing across the mountains.
"What…?" asked S'Til, rising from the ice, vision still blurred by dancing specks of green.
"The end of the Maximus Project, certainly," said Hochmeister, brushing off his jacket.
The weather was closing in again, the wind throwing the snow into their faces.
There was a sudden loud snap! then a series of groans and cracks beneath their feet.
"The ice is breaking up!" John flashed his light ahead of them. Ice and snow were being replaced by a widening stretch of black water.
"Back! The way we came!" shouted L'Wrona. "Quick-ly!"
"Forget it," said S'Til, flicking her light along the network of cracks spreading from the Maximus side.
"Upriver," ordered L'Wrona, turning left.
Behind them, the cracks were widening to fissures, triggering more faults that began snaking up and down river.
They'd covered perhaps a hundred yards, their race with the dark water almost lost, when a yellow halo appeared out of the storm, resolving into a shuttle that hovered on n-gravs just above the ice, access port cycling open as a ladder descended.