The Legacy of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 6)

by Daniel Arenson

  THE LEGACY OF EARTH

  CHILDREN OF EARTHRISE, BOOK 6

  by

  Daniel Arenson

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  AFTERWORD

  NOVELS BY DANIEL ARENSON

  KEEP IN TOUCH

  Illustration © Tom Edwards - TomEdwardsDesign.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  The tanks rumbled across the ruins, crushing bricks and skeletons, charging toward the decaying heart of New York City.

  Rowan stood in her tank's open hatch—her legs inside the vehicle, the rest of her exposed to the snowy wind. She stared at the skyline ahead.

  "It's become a pit of snakes," she muttered.

  Rowan had seen photos of ancient Manhattan. As a youth, stuck in the ducts of a rundown space station, she had watched countless movies set in this city. Rowan used to marvel at the lofty skyscrapers, glittering streets, and gilded statues—a bustling tapestry of civilization. New York had always been a symbol of humanity to her. A place of light and life.

  But that had been long ago.

  The city had changed.

  Today, six months after humanity's War of Independence, New York City was the last bastion of basilisks on Earth.

  The Empire State Building still stood, but iron scales now covered it, forming a towering serpent. The Freedom Tower had been split in two and drenched in crimson, licking the clouds like a forked tongue. The Statue of Liberty still guarded her island, but the basilisks had remolded her face, giving her slit nostrils, serpentine eyes, and fangs—a snake goddess defending her lair.

  "They profaned this city!" Rowan said into her megaphone. "We will scour it. New York will be ours again!"

  The tanks increased speed, roaring toward Manhattan, raising clouds of dust. Rusty helmets, chipped bayonets, and skulls cracked under their treads, the remnants of humanity's ancient wars. History drenched these fields. But the tanks were new, fresh from the factory, assembled from the scraps of fallen starships. Rowan had designed the tanks herself—one of her recent projects at Antikythera Institute, the military's research and development unit. Until now, Earth had been fighting the enemy without an armored corps. In the Battle for New York, Rowan would test her engineering.

  The tanks better not fall apart, Rowan thought, wincing. She shoved the fear aside.

  "For Earth!" she cried, trying to sound braver than she felt.

  Across the field, other commanders rose from their tanks' hatches.

  "For Earth!" they cried, raising flags.

  The banners streamed. Blue planets with golden wings on white fields. The flags of Earth. Of humanity. Of pride and victory.

  Rowan remembered raising this flag six months ago in the ruins of Port Addison, capital of Earth. That day, she had banished Queen Xerka, casting her into a wormhole and propelling her halfway across the galaxy. That day, after thousands of years of exile and genocide, Earth had regained its independence. It was the day, the scholars claimed, that the War of Independence had ended, that humans had beaten the basilisks.

  But in truth, the war had never ended.

  Not for Rowan. Not for most soldiers of the Human Defense Force.

  For these past six months, they had never stopped fighting.

  Their starships still fought the enemy in deep space, liberating refugee camps full of humans. Their engineers and mechanics still labored day and night, building tanks, cannons, planes. Their infantry still scoured the countryside, ferreting out last pockets of alien resistance.

  And most chilling—the secret plans brewed in the depths of their war rooms. Plans to rebuild Earth's fleet. To fly to the basilisk homeworld. To attack Queen Xerka on her own soil and defeat her once and for all.

  It made Rowan shiver.

  She forced that future invasion out of her mind. Right now, she faced a different battle. Right now, she must reclaim the basilisks' last stronghold on Earth.

  If we win New York, all of Earth is ours, she knew. So we must win!

  "Warthog Battalion, take the southern bridge into Manhattan," Rowan said into her comm. "Rhino Battalion, you take the tunnel below the river. Honey Badgers—you come with me along the northern bridge. Let's take this island!"

  Three battalions. Fifty tanks each. They split up, rumbling to war.

  Rowan commanded the Honey Badgers battalion; she had named them after her favorite animal. Her tanks charged toward the bridge. Many eras ago, this had been called the George Washington Bridge. Over its long history, it had been bombarded, rebuilt, destroyed, rebuilt again and again. Today it looked nothing like in the old photos. It was a monstrosity of rusting metal and raw concrete, a creation of the basilisks.

  Rowan halted her tanks ahead of the bridge.

  She stared, eyes narrowed.

  The bridge stretched across a river of trash. The Hudson had been polluted even before humanity's fall. But now Rowan couldn't even see the water, only a film of floating garbage. Plastic bags, bottles, beer cans, candy wrappers, bubbling yellow foam, and clumps of mold covered the surface. The bridge spanned this wretched bog, leading toward the city of shadows.

  Rowan saw no basilisks.

  No Copperhead fighters.

  Nothing.

  A ghost town.

  Her comm crackled. A familiar voice spoke in Rowan's earpiece.

  "Did they abandon the city?"

  Rowan looked beside her. Bay stood atop a nearby tank, speaking to her through his comm. Rowan couldn't help it. Even here, facing battle, Rowan smiled.

  Like her, Bay wore battle fatigues. In space, they had worn the uniforms of the Heirs of Earth: brown trousers, white buttoned shirts, blue vests or coats. But here on Earth, they had begun to wear olive drab. They were like soldiers of ancient legends, risen from history. Bay had added war paint, covering his face, leaving only his short blond beard untouched.

  The two had been engaged for almost a year now. Rowan looked forward to seeing Bay in a suit on their wedding day. Then peeling that suit off.

  Something to look forward to, she thought. To help me survive today.

  "Abandon the city?" Rowan said. "No, the enemy is still here. We've been intercepting their chatter. According to our intel, there are only a few hundred basilisks in New York. The last holdouts from the war, fanatics who refused to surrender. They're hiding. They're here. They're up to something."

  Bay spat. "Bastards. We should just nuke the damn city from orbit, then rebuild it."

  Rowan shook her head. "No can do. According to our spies, they've got human hostages, remem
ber? A hundred or more. Our mission isn't just to reclaim the city. It's to save the hostages."

  Bay sighed. "Yeah, I know, I know. Damn it. The whole city is probably booby-trapped. Hell, even the bridge. The snakes probably loaded it with explosives."

  Rowan nodded. "That's what I'm thinking."

  "I'll lead a team of sappers onto the bridge," Bay said. "Give me cover?"

  She nodded. "I will. Be careful, pancake."

  "Always." He blew her a kiss. "Love you, hobbit. Hey, if I get my limbs blown off, will you still marry me?"

  "Absolutely not!" She frowned. "You're already missing one arm. Lose any more limbs, and I'll dump you for your sister. So be careful!"

  Bay grinned. "Last one at Rockefeller Center is a rotten snake egg."

  Rowan lifted her megaphone and turned toward the fifty tanks of her battalion. "Honey Badgers! Aim your cannons. Fire across the bridge! Give our sappers cover."

  Fifty tanks aimed their cannons.

  Rowan put on her earmuffs.

  Fifty cannons boomed, shaking the riverbank.

  The shells slammed into the city across the bridge, plowing holes through roads and buildings. Dust billowed.

  "Again!" Rowan cried. "Keep firing! Sappers—move!"

  Bay exited his tank. Ten other soldiers joined him. They ran onto the bridge as artillery fire streaked overhead. All of them were sappers, trained to find and disable booby traps.

  Rowan watched from her tank, chewing her lip as they worked.

  No more limbs blown off, Bay, she thought. I want you to walk down the aisle with me. Too many of our veterans are in wheelchairs.

  Artillery fire kept flying. North and south, Rowan saw the other tank battalions shelling the city too. Explosions bloomed across New York like roses of fire. Metal twisted. Several buildings collapsed, raising clouds of dust.

  Still the basilisks did not fire back.

  "Bay!" Rowan said into her comm. "Anything?"

  He spoke from atop the bridge. "Yeah, the buggers wired up the bridge. Bastards. Crude work, though. We're disabling it. The bridge should be ready for crossing in … Hang on. What the—"

  She frowned. "Bay? Bay, you there? What—"

  An explosion tore across the bridge.

  Rowan screamed.

  An instant later, a shock wave slammed into her, nearly knocking her off the tank. She stared in horror.

  "Bay!" she cried into her comm.

  The fire blasted upward. Men fell off the bridge into the polluted river.

  Rowan stared, eyes wide, chest constricting.

  "Bay," she whispered into her comm. "Bay …"

  Only static answered.

  Rowan was prepared to leap off her tank, to dive into the river, when—

  "I'm here!" Bay's voice emerged from her comm. "I'm all right! Ra damn it. A bit singed, and my ears are ringing, but I'm fine. I'm still on the bridge. Sorry, babe. We missed a spot."

  The smoke cleared. The bridge still stood. In the distance, Bay and a handful of sappers clung to a concrete piling. Below them, a hole gaped across the decking.

  Rowan breathed in relief—and immediately felt guilty. Several men had died. But joy—horrible joy—welled inside her.

  They died. And my fiance survived. And I'm happy. And I hate myself for it.

  "Bay, cover up that hole on the bridge," she said. "We're rolling in." She clenched her fist. "These bastards will pay."

  More sappers ran, carrying metal slabs. They placed them across the hole and began to weld, fixing the bridge. All the while, the tanks kept firing, giving them cover.

  Finally—it was time.

  Bay leaped back into his tank.

  The Honey Badgers battalion—fifty heavy tanks—rolled onto the bridge.

  The other officers huddled inside their tanks, hatches closed. But Rowan remained in her turret, exposed to the open air, gazing ahead. She had to see with her own eyes, not a dusty monitor. She had to get a feel for the danger.

  And it was too quiet. Even with the rumbling tanks, it was too damn quiet.

  She stared ahead at the cityscape. Smoke and dust were drifting. Scattered fires still burned.

  But no basilisks.

  No enemy artillery firing back. No Copperhead fighters streaming overhead. No swarms of armored serpents slithering forth.

  Just smoke and silence.

  The tanks rumbled over the patched hole in the bridge. They were halfway across now. Almost to Manhattan.

  They still encountered no resistance.

  "Maybe you're right, Bay," Rowan said into her comm. "Maybe the basilisks abandoned the city, flew back to join Xerka on their homeworld. Maybe—"

  Movement caught the corner of her eye.

  She inhaled sharply and turned in the turret.

  Something stirred in the river, then vanished under the floating film of garbage.

  "Babe, you all right?" Bay said through the comm.

  She kept staring at the water. Nothing. Nothing but piles of trash. Probably just a damn seagull.

  "Yeah," she said. "I thought I saw something in the river. But it's nothing. Wait, no. I don't want to ignore this. Let's check it out." She gripped the machine gun mounted atop the tank. She broadcast her next words to every officer in her battalion. "Tanks! Halt. Turn toward the water. I want to—"

  And from the river of trash, they emerged.

  Dozens of them.

  Rowan screamed and fired her machine gun.

  The creatures were massive, easily the size of great white sharks, and seemed even deadlier. Serrated scales covered their bodies. Fangs thrust out from their mouths, dripping venom. Tentacles flared around their jaws, longer than men and tipped with clusters of blades.

  "Leviathans," Rowan muttered. "I hate leviathans!"

  Her bullets slammed into one of the aliens. The leviathan screamed and crashed back into the water. But more of the aquatic aliens leaped onto the bridge. Two slammed into Rowan's tank, nearly overturning the armored vehicle.

  Rowan screamed, clung to her machine gun, and fired again.

  The leviathans were allies of the basilisks. They had a true name—a roar that was so deep humans couldn't even hear it, let alone pronounce it. Rowan had dubbed them leviathans after the ancient sea monsters from human mythology. These aliens had invaded Earth during the war, infesting rivers and oceans, raiding shores, sinking ships, filling the water with blood. Most had retreated after Xerka's banishment.

  Clearly some would need a little more encouragement.

  Two leviathans wrapped their tentacles around her tank's cannon. The spiky beasts began climbing the tank. Another leviathan leaped from the water, jaws wide, fangs thrusting out like pikes.

  "Ferkakte!" Rowan blurted out.

  She took a deep breath. She fired her machine gun with one hand, ripping through the alien flying toward her. With her other hand, she drew Lullaby, her loyal pistol. Her bullets slammed into one of the leviathans climbing her tank, knocking the beast back onto the bridge.

  The third leviathan reached the top hatch.

  The jaws opened before Rowan, revealing rows and rows of teeth, rings of them flowing down the gullet. Hot breath washed over her. Fangs thrust toward her like spears. One ripped across Rowan's arm, tearing off armor. Another fang pierced her thigh, and venom sizzled.

  Rowan screamed, swiveled the machine gun, and fired bullets into the gaping mouth.

  The leviathan's head tore open. The alien slid town the tank—but not before pulling its fang through Rowan's leg, ripping her flesh down to the knee. She howled in agony.

  Thankfully, the Harmonians were still inside her—microscopic beings, benign parasites she had picked up in the Glittering Caves. They flowed through her wound, glowing lavender, healing her.

  "Thanks, buddies," Rowan mumbled. "I just wish you were a little bigger—and had machine guns."

  The leviathans were everywhere. Rowan spun in her turret, machine gun rattling, knocking back the leaping aliens. Several ta
nks were firing shells into the river. The polluted water sprayed like geysers of filth. Other soldiers stood in their own gun turrets, firing machine guns alongside Rowan.

  Two tanks had overturned. The leviathans were ripping open the hatches and tearing off the caterpillar tracks. Tentacles rose from the water, grabbed a tank, and pulled it downward. It crashed into the water, soldiers still screaming inside. Another leviathan landed on an open gun turret, ripping the gunner apart. Blood splattered the bridge. Another tank tilted over the edge, then crashed into the river.

  This bridge is death, Rowan realized.

  "Keep moving to the city!" Rowan shouted into her comm. "All tanks—full speed ahead!"

  Below her feet, her tank's driver shoved down the throttle. They rumbled along the bridge. Behind Rowan, the surviving tanks followed. They were fleeing from the fight, yes. But they had to pick their battles.

  It was still a long way to Manhattan.

  And every meter, the leviathans attacked.

  Tentacles grabbed a tank behind Rowan, pulled it across the bridge, and slammed it into another vehicle. More leviathans rose, grabbed more tanks, and pulled them into the bog. Soldiers tried to flee from the hatches, only for leviathans to rip them apart.

  One of the scaly aliens rose from the water, bellowed, and slammed into Rowan's tank. She screamed, swaying in the gun turret. The tank tilted, nearly falling off the bridge. A leviathan leaped from the river and grabbed the tank by the cannon.

  "Fire!" Rowan shouted.

  Inside the hull, the gunner obeyed.

  A shell ripped through the leviathan gripping the tank. The alien tore apart in a cloud of red mist. Rowan knelt under the hatch as chunks of dead alien rained.

  "Faster!" Rowan cried, rising again. "Get us into the city!"

  The tanks rumbled forth. Every moment, the tentacles grabbed another tank, pulling it under. More and more leviathans were gripping the bridge with their mighty tentacles. They kept rising from the water, shrieking, bloodlust in their eyes.

  "Keep firing your cannons!" Rowan cried. "Fire them forward! Clear a path!"

  The shells flew. The tanks charged.

  More and more leviathans kept rising. Hundreds of them.

  Rowan frowned.