Argonauts 2: You Are Prey

by Isaac Hooke

  eight

  Tantalus very carefully low-crawled toward the opening of the long foraging tunnel. It opened out upon the plains.

  There, three hundred meters in front of him, resided the six large metallic objects. Tantalus zoomed in. Yes, he could confirm now with absolute certainty that they were mechs.

  Tantalus hated mechs. Their AIs considered themselves a superior breed to his own. They looked down on those such as he, considering him and his ilk inferior, weak in mind and puny in body.

  He checked the class in his database. Hoplites.

  Ever vigilant, the deadly battle units relentlessly scanned their surroundings. They had cobra lasers mounted to their right arms, ready to fire at any threat that presented itself. They carried long, body-length shields in their left arms. Nozzles surrounding their chests and waist regions indicated Trench Coat launch points, countermeasures that would protect against missile attacks.

  Tantalus had only awakened from storage a few hours earlier. The Master had sensed the presence of another of its kind, and asked that Tantalus proceed to the Acceptor to investigate. Tantalus had taken a foraging tunnel to the surface, and when he had emerged he spotted the intruders camped out far away on the plains. He had returned to the tunnel and taken a different branch that led to the current opening, allowing him to emerge much closer to the interlopers.

  He wondered which of the mechs contained the Other the Master had spoken of. The Master had cautioned Tantalus to be wary of possession, and warned him not to get too close. Tantalus had no intention of doing so.

  Tantalus retrieved the Tech Class IV blaster from his holster. The Master had taken the weapon from the preservation depot not far from the nest; that depot contained several pieces of technology formerly possessed by the space-faring race before they became the Conquered.

  When the Master had bestowed the weapon to Tantalus, the description had been very enticing indeed. Tantalus quickly determined that the blaster was capable of readily disabling the neural networks found in the inferior AI cores produced by Tech Class III humans, his former masters. It would not affect manual operation of such machines, unfortunately, so if the Other possessed any of the mechs out there, or any humans were aboard, then his initial offensive would be useless. Which was why he considered what he was about to do more a probing attack than anything else. He had an ordinary laser blaster he could use if the situation turned hairy, plus a hundred of the best warriors from the nest waiting in the tunnel behind him.

  The weapon had required modification to work with his body, of course, since it was designed for use by the prehensile forelimbs of the Conquered. The blaster had a biometric lockout mechanism as well, but with the help of the Archive AI assigned to the preservation depot, Tantalus had found the necessary tools required to reprogram it, and adjusted the fitting to suit his human grip. The Archive AI spoke the chittering language of the Conquered of course, a somewhat refined version at that; but Tantalus knew the language thanks to the Master.

  He aimed the weapon at the Hoplites and opened fire in rapid succession. Three of them managed to drop to the dunes, hiding behind their shields. Tantalus merely fired directly at the protective devices, knowing his energy bolt would suffuse straight through the metal. In moments, he surmised that he had disabled all the AI cores, given that the mechs had ceased all activity.

  That shouldn’t have been possible; there should have been at least one Hoplite remaining. That meant the Other was no longer with them. A somewhat troubling thought. Still, it could be a ruse.

  Tantalus waited thirty minutes to ensure any human operators weren’t simply “playing dead,” then he chittered at the Conquered behind him, and, with the special gloves he wore, touched the antennae of the warrior at their forefront, completing the instruction chain with the necessary pheromonal signaling.

  The lead warrior led the Conquered out onto the plains.

  In moments, the warriors had confirmed that the Hoplites were indeed disabled, and that there were no humans hiding in the cockpits—if there were, the Conquered would have already been attacked.

  Tantalus turned toward the distant mountain and pressed the button on his utility belt. The hidden charges he had placed above the cave to the Acceptor detonated. A large plume of smoke billowed skyward near the summit, and he could feel the rumbling even here as the rocks tumbled down in a vast avalanche, sealing the cave.

  He remembered the argument that had taken place a few weeks ago between himself and the Master regarding those charges. Tantalus had wanted to detonate them immediately to prevent anyone from following them here.

  “No,” the Master had said. “We do not want to block off our only escape so readily, not until we determine how amenable these Conquered will be to our control.”

  “But what about the Hunters?” Tantalus had said.

  “Let the Hunters come,” the Master replied. “If they dare. And when they do, then we will detonate the charges. We will trap them. If all goes as planned with the nest, the Hunters will quickly realize that they are the ones who are Hunted, not we.”

  Well, Tantalus supposed, the Master would certainly be pleased.

  nine

  Vertical glow bars clung to the distant walls, dimly illuminating the new subterranean chamber. Rade realized there were far more than simply three gatorbeetles lingering on the far side of the cavern: the boulder had occluded a throng of about twenty of them, which he saw readily now that he was completely inside. Those creatures all had their backs to the entryway and were crowded around something. What it was, he wasn’t sure: it appeared an indistinct blur past the limbs and bodies of the gatorbeetles on his video feed.

  Rade zoomed in further and tried to focus the area, but the lighting simply wasn’t good enough. He checked the LIDAR and thermal bands, but wasn’t able to judge anything more about the strange object—there were too many alien bodies in the way. From the way they were bowing and scraping Rade thought they were fawning over it, whatever it was.

  “All right, send the HS3s closer,” Rade said. “Let’s see if we can figure out what holds their attention so rapt. Meanwhile, spread out. Let’s not place ourselves in the path of any aliens coming or going from the entrance.”

  The group took up defensive positions across the uneven floor while the HS3s moved forward; the scouts captured multiple angles of the throng during the approach.

  Rade switched to the viewpoint of the middle HS3 and as it closed he noticed that all of the gatorbeetles present were wearing different amounts of gold and silver rings at the bases of their antennae, and their facial regions were all powdered white to varying extents. He actually wasn’t sure if that was powder or some sort of natural color indicating a different caste in the nest.

  The HS3s rose higher as they neared the crowd: the ceiling was tall enough for the scouts to give the aliens a further two meters of clearance, ample room for their downdrafts. Even if one of the rotored scouts passed directly over an alien, Rade didn’t think the creature would notice.

  As the view updated, Rade realized the aliens had completely surrounded a slightly larger gatorbeetle that possessed an elongated abdomen. There were too many for them to all enclose the subject of their fawning attention, and they fought amongst themselves for the chance to touch the bigger creature. It turned randomly in place, accepting the juicy secretions vomited from the mandibles of the white-faced aliens, and slurped the gooey substance down.

  “What the hell?” Bender said. “It looks like they’re vying amongst themselves to feed that bitch.”

  “That’s precisely what they’re doing,” Lui said. “That ‘bitch’ is essentially the equivalent of a queen, to use an analogy from the insect world.”

  As the HS3s assumed a hold position above the throng, Rade spotted a long metallic bar running along the center of the queen’s dorsal region that included the head and thorax. The bar seemed embedded in the carapace. Drops of black condensation glistened in the dim light, scattered across t
he upper surface of the metal, well away from the organic tissue.

  Rade recognized that metal bar as a sign of Phant possession—it would be a device containing the circuits and neural networks necessary to interface with the nervous system of an organic life form, essentially mimicking the AI core of an Artificial or robot and allowing the Phant to control the queen.

  “We’ve found our prey,” Surus said.

  “So, what do we do?” Tahoe said.

  “It would be easier to capture the Phant if we can get the queen alone,” Shaw said. “I’m guessing we’re going to have to rip the bar off the queen’s back once we stun the Phant, because there’s no way we’ll fit the queen in the Phant trap we’ve brought.”

  “We will have to tear the bar away,” Surus agreed.

  “And that action will likely kill the queen,” Lui said.

  “Yes,” Surus said. “No doubt stirring the attendants into a killing frenzy. And if not them, then the guards outside, who will summon more of their kind. This chamber will turn into a death trap.”

  “All right, it’s settled then,” Rade said. “We wait here for the nest to go to sleep, and strike the queen then.”

  “Assuming the nest actually does go to sleep,” Tahoe said. “I suspect the queen will be guarded 24/7.”

  “Well, you’re all ex-MOTHs,” Rade said. “Shaw and Surus excepting. But my point is, you’re all used to waiting. Let’s camp out here for a few hours. Rest, conserve our energy. Take naps. Sip our liquid meal replacements. And if the situation doesn’t change, we strike. I’ll work with Surus on a plan.”

  “Let me guess,” Tahoe said. “That plan will involve reprogramming the emitters in some way.”

  “You know me too well,” Rade said.

  “I do,” Tahoe replied. “And I know our tech.”

  And so they observed the alien queen throughout the night, waiting for an opportunity to strike. The hidden team members remained dispersed throughout the cavern, keeping well away from the main path between the entrance and the queen.

  But she was never alone. Those lesser gatorbeetles always attended her. When they weren’t feeding her, they watched over her while she laid young. Indeed, Rade witnessed the birth of two small larva: a stinger at the end of the elongated abdomen would begin to pump, and the gatorbeetle that happened to be directly behind the queen at that particular moment would eject a bolus from its mouth—it appeared to be the same honey-like yellow substance Rade had seen in the cells outside the cavern. The queen stabbed the pumping stinger into that mass and deposited a small larva in the center. The lesser gatorbeetle promptly left the throng, crossing to the throne room exit with its prize, waiting for the sentries to move the boulder aside when the next mate arrived.

  At long last the queen ceased her activities and appeared to sleep. But the sycophantic gatorbeetles remained.

  Rade suspected the aliens wouldn’t leave until they got what they came for: a larva. He wondered if the white-faced gatorbeetles were actually mates for the queen; what if the gooey substance they spoon-fed her also contained reproductive material? If so, then what he witnessed there was essentially a nonstop orgy: this particular Phant must really be a hedonist to want to occupy such a place in the alien societal hierarchy.

  “All right,” Rade said. “We’re going to strike. Here’s the plan Surus and I have come up with.”

  He relayed the details to the team.

  “Get into position, Argonauts,” Rade said.

  Harlequin took his place near the center of the cavern, and the remaining eleven members of the team assumed attack positions on either side of the Artificial. Then the eight humans, two Artificials, and two robots aimed at their designated targets.

  Bender was humming something, and occasionally sung actual words over the comm. “Bugs bugs bugs. Gonna squash me some bugs.”

  “Bender, quiet,” Rade said.

  “Sorry boss,” Bender replied.

  In his analysis of the bodies, Harlequin decided that the most vulnerable spot on a gatorbeetle was most likely directly between the mandibles, in the esophagus region. A laser strike there was guaranteed to bore deep into the tissue. Unfortunately, with the aliens all facing the queen like that, the mandibles weren’t currently visible, and the team only had the carapaces in their sights; the effectiveness of the lasers against those outer shells was currently unknown. Presumably the lasers would penetrate, and perhaps cause great pain, though probably not with the same stopping power as an esophagus strike.

  Only half an hour ago the main boulder had rolled aside and a new gatorbeetle arrived, so Rade didn’t expect newcomers any time soon. The Argonauts should have the queen and her little coterie all to themselves for a while. Also, since the queen was asleep and hadn’t produced any more larvae, there were currently no aliens waiting to leave near the entrance.

  Rade felt somewhat guilty, since the plan involved slaughtering all the aliens simply to obtain access to the queen, who they also planned to kill. Unfortunately, the Argonauts couldn’t risk leaving any of them alive. Even though his team members were invisible, it wouldn’t take the aliens long to figure out that something was attacking their precious queen. They would either erupt into a defensive frenzy, rampaging about the cavern and striking randomly at the air against their invisible attackers, or they would flee to the boulder and attempt to summon the guards.

  Rade remembered telling Surus, long ago, that his team wasn’t like other security consultants. That he didn’t merely take on any job, that it was his morals that differentiated him from other mercenaries. He told her he didn’t condone assassinations, and never accepted jobs requiring it.

  Yet, wasn’t he about to do just that?

  But these are aliens we’re assassinating, he told himself. Aliens harboring an enemy of humanity. They’re not human beings. I draw the line at assassinating members of my own species.

  As he stared at the giant slobbering insects, he didn’t think he was going to lose any sleep over what he was about to do.

  Like squashing bugs, as Bender would say.

  ten

  Rade aimed the scope of his rifle at the abdomen of his given target and waited for Harlequin to provide the distraction that would allow Rade to target the esophagus region. A solid green outline surrounded the tango. A dashed line would have told him another member of his team was targeting that same gatorbeetle, something they were currently trying to avoid.

  Other gatorbeetles were outlined in solid blue, indicating in turn which tangos his team mates currently had lined up. All of the targeted aliens would go down in the initial salvo—assuming the esophagus regions were as vulnerable as the Argonauts believed.

  “Now, Harlequin,” Rade transmitted.

  In the empty space where Harlequin resided at the center of the cavern, a gatorbeetle sentry appeared. It began chittering softly, and stamping its foot to ring the bell connected to the red band on its foreleg. The noise was not loud enough to wake the queen, hopefully, but sufficient to attract the attention of her attendants.

  As expected, the closer gatorbeetles spun around to regard the sentry, and the aliens on the opposite side of the queen lifted their thoraxes to peer past them. Mandibles and the esophagi between them were exposed to the waiting rifles of the party. The queen remained dormant upon the rock floor.

  Rade quickly centered his crosshairs between the mandibles. When the vulnerability was acquired, the green outline flashed. He waited for the targeting outlines of his companions to flash as well. And then:

  “Fire,” he said, and squeezed the trigger.

  Twelve of the gatorbeetles simply collapsed where they stood, slumping dead to the floor.

  Rade moved his crosshairs to the target directly across from his last, located on the other side of the queen, as the other members of his unit would be doing. As the remaining gatorbeetles squealed in surprise and fright, Rade quickly acquired the esophagus of his next designated target and fired. Another twelve fell on the opp
osite side.

  The remaining gatorbeetles fled toward the boulder. Meanwhile, the queen had begun to stir. A muted crackling echoed across the cavern, telling Rade that Surus had switched to her Phant stunner and unloaded it at the exposed queen.

  Sure enough, the possessed alien promptly collapsed. At the back of his mind, Rade worried that the crackle produced by the electrolaser would alert the guards; that, along with the vibrations produced by the rampaging aliens.

  It took Rade and the others some effort to take down the remaining aliens; Rade had to rely on the AI targeting in his jumpsuit for help, but he managed to fire between the mandibles of another bug and it collapsed. Tahoe and Bender got the remaining two before they could reach the exit.

  So far, the boulder hadn’t moved. Even so, Tahoe, Bender, Lui and TJ assumed guard positions on either side of the exit as per the plan. Harlequin reset his emitter array, and the illusory sentry in the center of the cavern vanished from the visual band.

  Rade and Surus stepped between the fallen gatorbeetles, some of which were still twitching, and approached the queen. The two robots ported the Phant trap forward and placed it nearby. They had deactivated the emitters so that the container was visible, presumably to make transferring the Phant easier.

  “The queen definitely isn’t going to fit,” Rade said.

  “No.” Surus leaped onto the queen’s thorax and tore the iron bar from its backside, ripping away entrails and what appeared to be part of the queen’s spine in a gory mess. She leaped down and threw the bar, complete with its black condensation and gory spinal section, into the container. She sealed the door and the bar floated into the air, confined within the imaginary three-dimensional volume formed between the two metal disks in the floor and ceiling of the container. The bar began to rotate in place horizontally, and a hum emitted from the glass, slowly rising in pitch.