by Chris Fox
They should have been gone already. Nolan couldn't explain why the Void Wraith hadn't invaded en masse. He couldn't explain why the others hadn't realized one of their patrols had been wiped out. Or rather, he could explain it--he just didn't like the obvious conclusion. The only reason he could think of was that the Void Wraith knew they were here, and weren't stopping them. That raised a host of troubling questions.
"I'll do what I can," Atrea said. Nolan socketed the cube into the terminal, thankful that every iteration of the Primo empire had kept the same basic technology.
Beside him, Edwards struggled into a sitting position, then wobbled to his feet. "Captain, you want me to try again? Maybe that barrier is gone now."
"I doubt it," Nolan said, shaking his head. "We'll let Atrea get what we need. Just be ready to lay down suppressive fire when we make a run for it."
The rest of the squad had reached the doorway, and Hannan had put herself and Delta at corners of the room. Annie took up cover on the opposite side of the pedestal. Then it was a waiting game, and it was excruciating. Nolan expected the pounding of metal feet at any moment but, other than the squad's ragged breathing and the hum of the master core, there was nothing but silence.
"I've completed my work, Captain. I believe I have what we came for. You can withdraw the cube and come back to the ship," Atrea said.
Nolan carefully placed the cube in his pack, slinging the nylon shoulder strap over his shoulders. He paused to eye Edwards. "Private, how do you feel about giving the rest of us a ride back to the surface?"
"Can do, Captain." Edwards straightened, somehow making his expressionless face look excited.
"Everybody up," Nolan said, replacing his pack and scaling Edwards. The rest of the squad did the same. With Annie on one shoulder and Hannan on the other, Edwards broke into a sprint, and they started for the surface.
"Sir?" Hannan asked. It was whispered over a private channel, and a quick glance showed that none of the others had been included.
"Yeah," Nolan replied under his voice.
"You know this is all too easy. This place should be like a kicked anthill," she whispered. Her voice was almost drowned out by Edwards giving a tremendous whoop. They had to be going forty-five miles an hour. Maybe faster.
"I know," Nolan answered, just as quietly. He held onto the back of Edwards's neck, clinging like a spider. "Not much we can do about it, though. Besides, they'll have plenty of chance to stop us when we take off."
He fell silent, considering. He couldn't think of any reason why the Void Wraith would intentionally let them escape, but that didn't mean they didn't have one. Not that it impacted his decisions at all. Either way they needed to escape, and if the Void Wraith were letting them do that, then they'd just have to watch for any carefully baited hooks.
Edwards ducked low under a doorway, which nearly clipped Nolan's shoulder. He flattened, barely keeping his grip. Edwards righted himself and they sprinted up the final corridor, the familiar cloaking effect rippling over Edwards as they approached the landing platform. Nolan activated his own cloak, and the others did the same.
Moment of truth.
They burst into the sunlight, Edwards sprinting full tilt toward their harvester. Dozens of Judicators were operating within a few dozen meters, but not a single one looked up or tried to stop them in any way.
Definitely too easy.
Edwards continued up the harvester's ramp, leaping through the energy curtain and into the docking bay. Only then did he drop his cloak.
"Ship," Nolan ordered. "Get us the hell out of here."
Chapter 25- Pursuit
Reid studied Nolan as he and his squad entered the harvester. They were invisible on the normal visible spectrum, but Reid could hear their heartbeats. He could smell the chemical composition of their sweat. Nolan paused just beyond the energy curtain, scanning the landing pad. He even looked up, scanning the sky where Reid hovered.
Were it not for his limited senses, he'd have seen Reid. But another marvelous organ allowed Reid to cloak--it was where the Void Wraith technology had originated, after all. Only his cloak was total, not the flawed versions their troops used.
Nolan turned back to his crew, trotting into the harvester as it lifted from the landing pad. Reid willed himself forward, his body accelerating toward the departing craft. He felt a moment of very human fear, which evaporated as he tapped into the barest fraction of what his new body allowed him to do.
Reid matched the velocity of the harvester, then accelerated 20%. He glided closer, narrowing the gap as the harvester broke orbit. As it left the remnants of the planet's atmosphere Reid wondered about vacuum. But he had an organ for that, too--in this case the dermis encasing his body. It was impervious to nearly everything, including the energies of a star. The human in Reid knew that should have been impossible, especially given the limited size of genetic material involved in his creation, but there it was.
It was terrifyingly beautiful, because the entire organism had been meticulously optimized for hundreds of millennia. Reid could sense the Eye, feel the depth of memory. Bit by bit, the Eye had evolved to master every environment, and Reid realized that if he survived long enough he would be as vast as the Eye that had spawned him.
Reid finally reached the departing harvester, slowing his approach as he reached the hull. Another organ activated, this one tapping into the ship's communications. The ship answered, bypassing the crude VI that Nolan had installed. Reid considered the precautions he might take to hide his presence, but even as he did so he realized they'd already been put into place.
The harvesters had been created by the Gorthians. They'd been built to serve and protect, and could not harm a Gorthian in any way. More, the vessel would do everything possible to cloak his presence from the ship's occupants, unless he ordered it to do otherwise. It would obey him without question, locking out the ship's own VI if necessary. In short, Reid could take control of the vessel at any time.
Instead, he drifted to the airlock. The door opened without issue, and Reid drifted inside. Every passage had been built large enough to accommodate a growing eye, and the Judicators were the perfect servants to carry out his will. He reached out with the communication organ, feeling for Judicators. They answered, their carefully embedded programing activating. Forty-five Judicators, and four Alphas.
The host consciousnesses weren't even aware that they'd answered, of course. That would have created the possibility that they could betray a Gorthian's presence. No, Reid was completely obfuscated. He drifted into a maintenance bay, one that appeared empty. It was in the far corner of the left wing, under the boarding tubes.
There was no obvious use for the room, no reason anyone would go there. Reid added a subconscious compulsion to all Judicators to stay out, just in case. He also ordered them to warn him should someone approach. Reid could cloak, but it would be better if none of the crew were close enough to necessitate that.
He tapped into the harvester's sensors. They'd nearly reached the sun, and would be entering the Gate soon. Reid didn't care where they went from there. Nolan would solve this, somehow finding the Birthplace. When he did, Reid would seize it, ensuring his race's domination of every galaxy in their cluster.
Chapter 26- Madam President
Three weeks of fighting losing battles was taking a toll on Dryker. He'd stopped shaving--stopped grooming entirely, really. A four-hour nap each day was all the sleep he had time for. He knew his uniform was rumpled and stained, that his hair was askew. He knew he should care, especially when it involved a meeting this important. But Dryker was tired.
He steeled himself, straightening his posture as he swiveled his chair to face the holodisplay. It was blank as of yet, but at any moment they'd receive a communications request from Earth. This was exactly the kind of conversation he'd always avoided, because he was painfully aware that he had a problem keeping his temper in check when dealing with idiotic superiors. That was what had led to him being banish
ed to the 14th, war hero or no.
"Captain, encrypted request on Quantum." Juliard looked up from her console, blinking at him. "Put it through?"
He nodded, and the holographic display showed a large mahogany desk. The wall behind it bore the massive presidential seal of the UFC. The woman in the chair looked seventy, so she was probably closer to a hundred and twenty. Her silvered hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her proud face fixed him with a haughty stare.
"Hello, Admiral Dryker," she began, raising an eyebrow when she uttered the word admiral. The emphasis stung, but she was right. Earth hadn't awarded that promotion; he'd claimed it for himself. "I'm President Gregg. Why don't you have a seat? We have a great deal to discuss."
Dryker glanced at the chair behind him, then carefully sat. No sense antagonizing the woman. "We do," he said, "and we need to do it quickly." He leaned forward, giving her what he hoped was a pleading look. "I know the military and the civilian governments rarely get along. That can't be us. We're fighting--"
"A war for our species' survival, I know. One that could see not just humanity, but the Tigris and Primo as well, wiped from the galactic stage." She leaned forward as well, spearing him with intense grey eyes. "Tell me what you need in order to win, Admiral. What can Earth do? This isn't a holodrama. I will not allow politics to play a role in the destruction of our race. You will find no resistance here, only a government united in support of you."
For a long moment Dryker wasn't sure what to say. He'd been so ready to do battle, to fight to get her to see reality. Instead, he briefed her like he would any other CO. He knew she'd read the report, so he summarized as much as he could.
"Okay, let's start with our current situation. We don't have any hard data on the enemy fleet size, but I'd guess it's in the four digits. Probably several thousand. That's enough harvesters to wipe out all military resistance, and to systematically cull the populations of every known world. That fleet is commanded by Admiral Mendez, and if you know anything about history, you know how capable he is.
"Our only real hope is scattering. We need to evacuate core worlds, and create mobile convoys. I'm willing to divide the military to guard those convoys. If we're lucky, some will survive."
"Is it that dire?" the president asked. She leaned back in her chair, a sudden weariness slumping her shoulders. She looked up at him again. "There are twenty-two billion people on Earth. If we nationalize every Helios-worthy vessel, we might be able to save twenty million. Are you telling me the rest of those people will be turned into enemy troops? And there's nothing we can do to stop that? What about our orbital defense platforms?"
"The Void Wraith easily destroyed Primo libraries." Dryker knew the words were tough to hear, and he admired the woman for her calm. "That was with dozens of vessels. With hundreds? Or even thousands? They'll use their cloaking technology to get close, and they'll blitz the platforms. Our orbital defenses will be down in hours, tops. After that, they can pick off any vessel that goes for the Gate. They can ground as many transports as they want. It will take a while, but they will eventually convert our entire population."
"And there's nothing we can do?" she asked. "No way to destroy this planet-sized Eye from your report? Or even to find it?" The corners of her mouth dropped into a schoolmarm's frown. "I won't accept that. Can't accept it. You need to find an option, Admiral. You're all Earth has. We need a workable survival plan, one that will buy us at least six months."
"Madam President, you said I'd encounter no resistance," Dryker said. He let out a deep sigh. "I know this is tough to accept. I know its harsh. We're well and truly screwed. We're doing what we can to gather allies, but even with the Tigris and Primo, I don't think we can hold Earth in a prolonged assault. Bringing our forces here and making the attempt would allow the Void Wraith to break the back of the resistance."
"How is your plan better? If we flee they'll pick us all off, eventually. If they're continuously building more ships, searching will get easier and easier. The refugees will eventually run out of food, or fuel. When they do, they'll be picked off, too. Your plan doesn't make sense, not unless you're buying time for something," She looked at him carefully, then her eyes widened. He'd given something away. "Spill it, Admiral. Give me some hope."
Could Dryker trust her? She could be a Void Wraith plant, like Mendez. Of course, if she was, they were screwed either way. He decided to take a risk.
"Captain Nolan has been dispatched to seek out a Primo weapon. A vessel, one that enjoyed a great deal of military success against the Void Wraith the first time they attacked the Milky Way." Dryker considered how far to go, opting to give her the entire truth. "There's a high likelihood that the Primo leadership has been compromised by the Void Wraith. I believe Celendra may be a spy. Because of this, we've told no one of Nolan's mission. Not even I have full details."
"Still, that's hope," the president said. "It's something to hold onto. I know I can't tell anyone. What's said here won't go beyond this room. But it helps me, and I sorely needed that." She gave a grim smile. "You gave me a bitter pill, but I'll swallow it. If we're going to lose the planet, then we'll sell it as dearly as possible. I'll brief the World Congress."
"Will they accept this?" Dryker asked.
"You mean will they accept you being in charge of the military now that the rest of the admiralty is either dead or gone rogue?" the President asked. Dryker liked her more and more. "They'll accept it, Admiral. Most will scramble for their personal transports as soon as they understand what's happening, and once they begin to flee, the media will ensure everyone follows suit. Those who can get off, will. When that happens, I'll have a list of convoys drawn up for you. Until then, godspeed."
"Thank you, Madam President," Dryker said, and to his surprise he meant it. "We're up against some tough odds, but we'll keep fighting until we can't. I'm not giving up."
Chapter 27- Gene Therapy
Nolan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They were safe. He watched as they disappeared into the sun's corona, diving for the sea of molten radiation. Not a single Void Wraith had pursued; every drive signature remained on or around the fractured world. It hovered there, in the background, a mass of debris and rock.
"Ship, make for the Ternaris system. We're going to go to ground for a bit while Lena and Atrea sort through the data we've provided." Nolan settled into his command chair, withdrawing a protein bar from his breast pocket. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten.
"Captain?" Izzy said, blinking as she cautiously approached. "Do you have a moment?" Her tail was aloft, somehow conveying hopefulness.
"Sure," Nolan said, nodding at the couch Izzy had installed. It was piled high with pillows, in true Tigris fashion. She settled atop it, turning around once before finally finding a comfortable spot.
"I wanted to tell you about the Eye," Izzy said, tapping her comm. The bridge's holoprojector sprang to life, displaying footage from Izzy's goggles: her leaping along rooftops and dodging Judicators. If he hadn't been impressed with her skills before, he definitely was now. She nimbly avoided dozens of Judicators, keeping one step ahead the entire time.
Then it showed her looking at the Sparhawk. Nolan sat up straighter, focused on the vessel. He found himself holding his breath, finally exhaling when the Eye emerged. It was hideous, and he knew without a doubt he was looking at the creature Reid had become.
"I thought you'd want to know, but I wasn't sure if the rest of the crew should," Izzy said, lowering her voice. "So I brought it directly to you."
"You did right, Izzy," Nolan said, giving her a grateful nod. Delta was consumed by his hatred for Reid, so Nolan needed to approach this delicately.
Atrea's voice sounded over the comm. "Captain, Lena and I are coming up. We've found it. I mean, I think we've found it."
Nolan shot to his feet. He forced himself to wait until the pair of scientists burst onto the bridge. Lena's tail swished behind her, and her posture was as proud as he'd
ever seen. Atrea hopped back and forth from foot to foot, a tiny smile plastered across her weathered face.
"Tell me," Nolan said.
"Let me warn you first," Atrea said, raising a hand to forestall Lena. "No, sister. We must give him realistic expectations. We cannot overplay this discovery, as important as it is."
"You're right," Lena said, dropping her gaze. She raised it again, looking at Dryker. "There is a critical piece missing to finding the Birthplace, but Atrea may be able to simulate it."
"Explain," Nolan said, looking between them. "Start at the beginning."
"The Birthplace is located somewhere near the galactic core, as we suspected. It's somewhere in the outer accretion disk of the supermassive black hole at the center of the Milky Way," Atrea said. She plunged past that like she'd said it was located on a resort world. "The exact location is missing from the data base, but apparently it's encoded into the memory of every Helios Gate.
"Whoa," Nolan said, holding up both hands. "Let's get back to the supermassive black hole part. What is it, and how much danger does getting there put us in?"
"We believe most galaxies have a supermassive black hole in the center," Lena explained. "It's many thousands of times larger than a normal black hole. Its accretion disk will be truly massive, and will extend for almost a quarter light year. Even at that distance, if we approach, there's every possibility we'll lack the power to break free of the gravitational pull."
"Okay, we'll deal with that when we get to it," Nolan said, nodding. "You said the memory of every Helios Gate has the location. What's preventing us from using the Helios Gate we're about to pass through to go there?"
"The Gates will only respond to unmodified Primo DNA," Atrea explained, suddenly crestfallen. "All Primo from the second and third eras were changed, likely by the Void Wraith. If I attempt to interface with the Gate, it will reject me--at least, if the records are accurate. I'm still willing to try."
