The Core

by Jack Robuck

  He brought them in low, a mile out from the crash site. A wide, long gash, like a newborn canyon, but as straight as the river, cut through the country-side, and in the distance they could see that it bloomed out into an immense crater.

  Rachel put a hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "Why are we coming in so close? I told you to keep it quiet."

  He pointed over at the console to his right. "No need. I'm getting minimal chatter. There might be a few of 'em down there, but not many, and there's not a Fleet vehicle of any real size in sensor range. Looks like they're gone."

  Rachel frowned. "Okay, we continue on with the plan. If they took whatever was down there, maybe we can figure out what it was. If there's anybody around, maybe they know where it went."

  *

  The crater was so wide that its protected edge was no position to set up Glazier, even with his scoped rifle, so he escorted them down into the enormous bowl, finally settling on a jagged chunk of rock thirty feet high that had landed a little ways out from the center. He climbed up to the top and set up for overwatch.

  They could see maybe a dozen figures in the distance, digging and clearing away rubble. Leaving Glazier there, Rachel, Jimmy, Matthew, Natalie, and Gusset circled the crater wall until they were behind the bus-sized heavy fighter. Once they crept in and past it, confronting their targets, the Fleet team on the other side would have nowhere to run.

  Rachel whispered, her hand on Jimmy's shoulder, "Okay, we're outnumbered. But we've got surprise, and we're gonna have control of their vehicle."

  Natalie glanced into the distance. "And hopefully the old man can at least scare them off with the sound of shooting."

  Jimmy put away his COM device. "You'd better be careful, Natalie. I bet he can hold his own. Keep talking shit about him, and he might just misfire while you're somewhere you shouldn't be."

  Rachel held up her hands. "Relax. We need to take them out quickly, before any of them have a chance to radio out. The long range device will be on-board, so Jimmy and Matthew, when we get to the heavy fighter, we'll assume cover there, and you two will go in and clear it out. It’s most likely empty, or with a single officer. If you fire a shot, we'll open fire on the rest of the team. If it’s clear, we'll call for surrender first. Got it?"

  They all nodded assent. Matthew hefted the weighty assault rifle. This felt different than the fight with Trague. Before, shooting a gun was about survival. But this was a fight they were walking into by choice.

  Rachel went on, "If they're soldiers, they won't surrender, but if we're lucky they could be planetsiders working under guard. Let’s go."

  The team moved in. The last thirty yards to the heavy fighter were in the open. They ran, crouching down. At the last approach, they spotted a pilot through the door-glass of the vehicle. He spotted them too, and disappeared. Jimmy yanked open the door and jumped up into the main cabin. Matthew was right on his heels. He thought about Rachel's words, and raised his rifle. Jimmy yelled, "No!" and decked the pilot across the back of the head with his rifle-butt.

  They found some cable-ties in a locker and cuffed his hands behind his back. They stuffed him in the tiny bathroom, unconscious. It was all over in a few moments.

  Matthew was shaken. Jimmy ruffled his hair. "I'm glad to know you've got my back out here, kid. Just don't shoot until I do, okay?"

  Back outside, the others crouched, waiting. Rachel and Natalie took cover at the back by the jutting engine exhaust. Gusset peeped around the front gun emplacements. Rachel sent Natalie to join Gusset.

  Rachel put a hand to her mouth, yelling out over the scraping shovels of the Fleet team. "Listen up! This is Rebel Command! You're surrounded! Throw down your weapons and tools and gather together!"

  The figures in the distance threw down their tools, and swiveled about, pulling their weapons into the ready position, trying to identify the enemy. The nearest looked out into the distance as if he could feel the cold eye of Richard Glazier peering at him through a scope, and as he turned they could see a white circle patch on his shoulder.

  Jimmy whispered, "Oh, shit."

  Matthew glanced over at him. "What?"

  "Sunjumper patch. These aren't workers. They're special forces.”

  Matthew squinted into the distance. “Like Trague?”

  Jimmy nodded. “What the fuck are they doing with shovels in their hands?"

  Suddenly the soldier ran for cover.

  Natalie called over to them, “You seeing what I'm seeing?"

  Rachel yelled back, "Yeah, shoot them!"

  The Fleet team was already firing. The wind-ripping blast of gunfire made Matthew hit the ground instinctively. He popped up and let off a few shots before ducking back down. He screamed in his mind. Fuck, aim, you idiot!

  Jimmy was at his elbow, calmly moving and shooting; ducking, moving, and shooting. Matthew went low on the ground and stuck his rifle butt and half his face around the edge of the fighter's wide landing foot. He spotted a pair of soldiers under cover behind a low mound of dirt. He took aim and waited for one of them to pop back up. He took the shot; missing, but close.

  The soldiers didn't have a lot of cover, but they were low, and they were deadly. Gusset screamed out, a long tracking wound across his shirt, and the sight of blood and flesh turned Matthew's stomach. Gusset cursed, and kept on firing.

  A distant crack reverberated over the more immediate maelstrom of sound, and one of Matthew's two targets fell flat, out of cover. A pool of blood began to form beneath his helmet. Jimmy shouted to Natalie, "Count one for Doc Glazier!"

  The soldiers were spreading out, gaining ground, and despite being low on cover, threatened to flank the small band. If the three soldiers creeping around their left flank got behind the heavy fighter, they'd be out of Glazier's sight line, and free to move up fast. Natalie sprinted from Gusset's position at the front, and, running past the back of the fighter, yelled, "Cover me!"

  She took three long strides, then dove and rolled behind a big chunk of debris from The Waverly. She came up firing, bringing down the furthest soldier on the far left flank. The other two rushed forward, hoping to take advantage of her distraction. She popped back up and blasted one in the mask at close range. He fell at her feet. The second let off a shot right at her head, gouging a path through her purple hair and across a hands-breadth of scalp. Natalie screamed and fired wild; the soldier beat away the barrel of her weapon with his rifle butt. Rachel fired at him, hitting him in the shoulder.

  Natalie pulled out her sword and slashed hard across his chest. He stepped back, dazed, putting a hand to his scratched body armor. She grabbed the thick spine of the blade in her left hand and guided the point to a joint in the plate under his arm. Leaning forward into the thrust, she let out a forceful grunt and stabbed her blade deep into the soldier's chest, toward his heart.

  A distant explosion drew their focus back toward the front of the ship. Gusset called out, "What in the fuck was that?"

  Rachel grimaced, as she fired twice, hitting nothing. "Our ship, most likely. Sounds like they've got back-up on the way."

  Ducking down, she grabbed Jimmy's shirt, nearly ripping it, pulling him close. "Get in the fighter! Take the kid!"

  She popped up and fired. Jimmy grabbed Matthew and half-dragged him to the covered side door. They went in.

  "Matthew, drop the cargo gate and take up a firing position back there!" Jimmy ran for the cockpit. Matthew followed him. "Don't you think being up here is a little bit more my area of expertise?"

  Jimmy looked him up and down. "You know how to fly?"

  They both said it at the same time. "In theory."

  Jimmy bailed for the back, and Matthew took the pilot's seat. He hoped the rest of the team had cleared out from the exhaust radius as he fired up the engines. Too late to worry about that now.

  Looking back, he could see Jimmy had dropped the big cargo door, and was firing from a prone position on the slip-textured decking. Out in the brightness, Natalie was blind-firing f
rom behind the wreckage, one hand holding a handkerchief to her scalp.

  "Get us in the air! Spin up the guns!" Jimmy yelled, just as a grenade plinked off the bulkhead above him, and tottered slowly down the ramp. Jimmy rolled on-board fast, but the blast caught him. He screamed out, dropping his rifle and clutching his face.

  "Shit, you okay?" Matthew slammed the thrusters to put them in the air. He hopped up to thirty feet, and pitched the nose down hard. He flicked the arming toggle, and clicked the safety on both triggers of the yoke.

  Jimmy was moaning and sliding around in the back. Banking, Matthew put the biggest group of Troopers in his sights and fired. The four forward chain guns decimated the armored soldiers. Turning, he targeted the next group. He could see his friends now, up and firing. Their cover was shot, but they had the momentum.

  Suddenly, the ship blared an early warning alarm and the console strobed. He banked, leveled out, soared straight up on the vertical thrusters as fast as the ship could climb, and pitched all the way down. Three one-man fighters screeched through the crater just after he passed over them. He rolled 180, dropped, pitched up, punched the afterburner, and he was right in behind them. The ship vibrated with the force of the guns, and one fighter went down. I'm big but I can catch them.

  He narrowed his eyes, focusing in. They split wide, forcing him to choose. Fine. Choose one target. Fire until destroyed. Choose another target.

  He could remember his instructor whispering into his headset in the simulator. He remembered the simulator being a lot less scary. I can do this.

  He accelerated fast, his head hitting the seat back. The broad arc carved by the little fighter was putting some serious G-force on the heavier ship.

  "Jimmy, you holding on to something?"

  A furious, garbled scream was his reply. At least he didn't fall out of the cargo ramp. I hope the others are cleaning up downstairs.

  He smirked at his own use of Rachel's phrase. He knew what the fighters would do. One would sucker him in, allowing itself to be chased, while the other set up position to swoop into his blind spot, either behind or from the side. His heavy fighter was a bigger target, but it could both withstand and deal out a lot more damage.

  The ship he was chasing pitched up, climbing. He followed suit. He fired off several blasts of bullets to help shape the fighter's path.

  Smash! A blinding flash, searing heat. The windshield was shattered; the co-pilot's chair was on fire. The second fighter was behind him, firing...and the back door was open. "Jimmy, you wanna close that door?"

  "You fucking piece of shit little prick, I'm gonna kill you!"

  "Okay, no problem!" Fuck. Wait a second.

  "Jimmy, where are you right now?"

  A hand grabbed onto the blackened, still smoking co-pilot's chair, and Jimmy chin-upped himself into the seat, curling fetal on the seat-back and hugging the chair bottom as they climbed. Half his face was singed, and his left temple and ear were pocked with black pepper spots, red and bleeding.

  Matthew gripped the yoke as hard as he could. Leaning against his seat harness for leverage, he dodged the fighter that was still firing behind them and tried to lead the one in front enough to get a shot. He caught a glance of Jimmy, who gave him a harried expression.

  Matthew shouted over the roar of the wind whipping through the ship without looking away from the fight. "You're looking good. You're fine. You're gonna be fine."

  Jimmy didn't speak.

  "Just hold on really tight, okay?"

  Jimmy shot him a look of expectant disgust.

  Matthew flicked off the engine. He counted two, flicked on the off-planet engine system, and punched the yoke buttons for full reverse. The thrusters under the guns on the front of the ship fired bright. They shielded their eyes.

  The fighter behind them tried to veer, as Matthew had hoped it would. As complete a victory as having crashed it directly into his cargo hold would have been, he wasn't sure they'd withstand the resulting explosion. As it was, the smaller ship clipped a wing on their hull. They could see it spin out of control down toward the surface. Matthew turned to Jimmy with a grin. "He didn't blow, but his night's over."

  Jimmy looked at him puzzled, and smirked.

  There's that look again, the same one that Rachel gave me. I recognize it now. These guys are hardcore, but they've spent their whole lives on the ground.

  The maneuver had cost them their position in the chase, but Matthew was feeling optimistic. The little planetary fighters weren't equipped for this battle, and it was almost over. He got himself and Jimmy buckled in, allowing the ship to plummet a bit further toward the surface. Right before he switched back to atmospheric engine systems, he twisted the yoke handles forward, pulling a 180 flip so they were facing the way they were going. Flicking the two switches, he fired up the other engine, pulled up hard and swept the horizon for the remaining target.

  Jimmy pulled out his handkerchief and held it up to his bloody face. "You're being very hard on this ship, young man."

  Matthew smiled. "It can take it. No wings to rip off like those little bastards means we can pull a lot of bullshit they can't. For a while. Why, did you have a name picked out or something?"

  Jimmy laughed behind his makeshift bandage. He peered out into the wind with his good eye. "There he is!"

  Through squinted lashes, Matthew spotted the remaining fighter hauling ass away from them toward a looming black cloud. He pulled on target and fired the afterburner. Jimmy shook his head. "Let him go, fuck it. Let him tell the story. Let’s get back down there." The distant storm cloud was coming on fast, blooming like a gush of blood in clear water.

  The group was gathered around the bodies of the Fleet team. They had picked them over for equipment. As the sky clouded over a dull steel grey, Matthew and Jimmy limped toward them, arm-in-arm.

  Rachel looked at Jimmy. "That was some pretty tricky flying."

  Glazier was there. He had treated Natalie and Gusset already and he began wiping down Jimmy's wound. Jimmy grimaced under the sting of the antiseptic. "You think I know how to fly like that? The kid just saved all our asses. If I was flying, we'd be fucked right now."

  Rachel smiled broadly at Matthew. "Cowboy." She walked right up to him, and pulled him into a kiss.

  Natalie called over to them, "Anyway, Jimmy, if you're not gonna die, you should see this." She had a large bandage taped awkwardly to her head.

  Jimmy walked over as Glazier put on the finishing touches. "Whoa, what the fuck is this? Were they burying something here?"

  Rachel joined them. "No, no way, it’s too big, whatever it is." She looked at Glazier. "Was this part of the ship?"

  Glazier glanced over from working on Jimmy. He squinted and stepped forward. "No. No, I'm certain. What the hell is it? ...It must have been uncovered by the blast."

  Stretched out before them in the center of the crater was a broad, grey plane. It spanned an area over a hundred square feet and it was evident that the Fleet team had been excavating it further. The matte grey surface was delineated into three foot square sections.

  They stepped cautiously out onto the plane. Matthew bent down and brushed away some sand. The surface was stipple-textured in low relief. The square portions were divided by tight, deep crevices. Joints.

  Jimmy frowned, and knocked twice on the panel he was standing on. The sound guck-gucked; hollow. "Uh. This is plastic." He knocked again. "Yeah. We need to open this up. Natalie, give me your sword.”

  Jimmy and Natalie crouched over a panel in the middle of the plane, prying at the joints around it. The others gathered a few feet away, looking on. Natalie was gaining purchase, but the sword seemed to be stuck on something. Reaching over, Jimmy pushed down on the iguana skin grip. They heard a loud snap and Natalie fell forward, shouting, "Fuck, Jimmy!" But before she could finish her sentence, the three foot square grey panel clicked free, and the roar of a vast sucking vacuum interrupted her.

  They could feel the air around them rushing toward
the square opening. Jimmy collapsed on the panel he had pulled free, twisting it violently down and toward him to keep it from sinking back into its slot. Natalie, on her knees, wobbled forward. She was falling toward the hole when the wind stopped, a dull electric buzz snapped on, and a translucent, oily rainbow-field popped into the opening, flush with the grey panels around it. Natalie made contact and rolled off.

  Matthew and Glazier exchanged a glance. Jimmy pulled the panel free, as he and Natalie backed away from the shielded opening on hands and knees.

  Up from the tie-dyed field grew a twisting digital hologram, developing upward, decompressing, upsampling into a strange image. It looked like some sort of cubist heat map of a frail old man. The colors blinked and recomposited a closer, more detailed impression: the faded photochrome of a dusty old planetsider in milky stereoscope. Then he spoke.

  "This is the—third—warning in—one—days. You may not access The Core from this location. Please replace the panel." The old man's half-toned visage looked up, and Matthew quickly sidestepped before realizing it was part of the recording. The hologram went on in a different, weary tone. "If you have to go down there, and you don't know how, that means that the worst has happened. Something I had hoped to prevent. These are the coordinates for entry."

  He held out his palm, which contained a blinking, floating cube. Jimmy took out his handheld and began searching for signals. The old man spoke again. "This is the only place you can safely reach The Core. I hope you know what you're doing."

  The hologram blinked out. The field over the hole dimmed, and only the occasional pixel flash betrayed its continued existence.

  In the distance, past the hole where the ship's rut intersected the crater's rim, Matthew could see the wind kicking up tiny tornadoes of dust. The sky simmered darker, and a few percussive raindrops tapped out the beat before a shattering static symphony of a deluge poured from the sky.