Foundry of the Gods (Corrosive Knights Book 6)

by E. R. Torre

“Yes,” Laverna said. She frowned. Flashes of memory appeared in her mind’s eye. “The woman… she stopped crying. There was something about it…”

  “What?”

  “Everything went quiet,” Laverna said. “Everything. There was no wind. No sounds. None at all. I looked back at the Squad and they weren’t paying attention to me anymore. Everyone was looking down the street. I did, too.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw…”

  Laverna concentrated.

  “I saw smoke,” she said. “It enveloped… it enveloped the buildings at the end of the street. It moved in, like a fog. Slowly. Very slowly. I heard Sergeant Castor yell.”

  “What did he say?”

  “The drones picked up energy spikes. They came from inside the smoke at the end of the street.”

  Laverna tried to shake her head. The restraints kept her from doing so.

  “The smoke…”

  Laverna stopped talking. An icy fear gripped her soul and threatened to tear her apart.

  “Tell me more.”

  “No… it… I can’t.”

  “You must. I order you to.”

  “Please,” Laverna said. “Please don’t make me—”

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  Laverna tried hard to keep the thoughts from coming.

  She couldn’t.

  6

  You’re lying in the street of Gehinnom and next to an elderly woman. She holds a dead baby and at her side are the bloody remains of another woman.

  A voice screamed from somewhere to her right. It was Sergeant Castor.

  “Maintain your position!”

  Laverna looked his way. Her suit’s enhancements displayed the squad’s heat signatures but she could not get a clear visual of them through the smoke. A shadowy couple, farther away from the Squad Leader, backed up. They were about to run. She knew they would desert their post and—

  They wouldn’t make it far.

  Laverna heard a gasp. It came from much closer. The elderly woman stirred.

  She was in a daze. Her eyes were glassy and wet. She tried to say something but couldn’t. Blood flowed from her mouth.

  “Don’t talk,” Laverna said.

  She had her suit’s med computers perform another examination.

  “The child’s dead,” she heard herself tell the elderly woman. “You need to let her go. We need to get you to safety.”

  The words were blunt and unemotional. She couldn’t believe her lack of empathy yet knew this was what had to be said. The elderly woman didn’t react. Despite –or perhaps because of– what she said, she did not react at all.

  The child is dead. Laverna thought. Why can’t you just… just leave it?

  New thoughts intruded on old ones.

  She’s not all that different from me. I left my position because I thought the child was alive.

  Laverna reached for the elderly woman.

  If she won’t go willingly, then by the Gods I’ll take her by force. I’ve disobeyed orders and I’ll be damned if I won’t save her—

  On her display screen, the elderly woman’s vitals collapsed.

  “No!” Laverna shouted.

  She placed medi-patches over the woman’s chest.

  “You will not die,” she said.

  Laverna then laid medi-wraps over the woman’s worst injuries. She pulled out a syringe and jammed it into the woman’s arm. Long, tense seconds passed.

  The elderly woman’s vitals stabilized.

  “Thank the Gods,” Laverna whispered.

  She sat back and exhaled.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew these events happened a long time ago and that she was reliving them. After that realization, she kept her eyes on the elderly woman. She didn’t want to look at anything else because she knew all too well what was coming…

  You don’t want to remember this. Let it go. Let it…

  It came.

  A blast louder than any she heard before.

  Instinctively, she shielded the elderly lady from the blast. Darkness surrounded them and Laverna longed to succumb to it.

  You know what comes next.

  Laverna opened her eyes.

  She felt a sharp, searing pain along the length of her body. On her display, a warning flashed:

  Suit systems compromised. Energy 69%.

  Laverna screamed while tears ran down her face.

  You’re here and the pain won’t go away. Deal with it.

  Laverna looked across the length of her body. Her battle suit barely saved her. Jagged pieces of shrapnel ripped through portions of her metallic shield. Blood pooled inside the suit and dripped out of it.

  She couldn’t feel her legs nor move her left arm.

  “Computer, status,” she muttered.

  Her vision blurred and the pain increased. She read her helmet’s internal display.

  A moment before Laverna fought to keep the elderly lady from dying. Now Laverna was severely injured and, if she didn’t get treatment, she too might die.

  There was more movement at her side.

  Her squad stirred. A couple sustained injuries from the blast. None of the injuries were as life threatening as those she had.

  Just as she knew it would happen, the two Peacekeeper soldiers at the rear of the group made their move. They ran.

  “Get back here!” Sergeant Castor shouted.

  The order was ignored. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

  Laverna’s attention returned to the elderly woman. She tried to ignore the blips corresponding to the deserters displayed within her helmet. They moved away, their speed augmented by their suits. They made it a block, two, three. Five.

  There was another mighty explosion. The deserter’s sensor blips disappeared.

  They’re dead.

  Whatever attacked was not only in front of them but at their rear.

  Laverna spotted a light coming from somewhere far down the road. It was followed by yet another blast.

  This explosion ripped the bottom five stories of a twenty story building a mile away from the Squad’s position. The building’s base was engulfed in fire and smoke. Chunks of concrete and metal flew in all directions.

  The shock wave and blast were so loud and violent they pushed Laverna and the elderly lady she protected into the ground.

  The building swayed.

  It tilted.

  With a loud, sickening metallic groan, it fell.

  Just before its remains hit the ground came another explosion of the same magnitude.

  It was much closer and the sonic boom far louder. Another building, this one to her southwest, also collapsed…

  “We’ve got to move!” she heard Sergeant Castor yell over the comm.

  Static interfered with his message. Someone was setting up a jam.

  Several soldiers in her squad were knocked off their feet. Others held their weapons but weren’t sure where to aim or against whom to fire.

  Garbled chatter filled the comm.

  “There!”

  “Where?”

  “3 o’clock!”

  Another explosion. This one not quite as massive yet much closer. Debris and shrapnel flew with tremendous force and heavy dust surrounded the area and dimmed Laverna’s vision.

  “We have to get Laverna!” Osborne yelled.

  “We retreat,” Sergeant Castor yelled back. “Everyone follow—”

  “The hell with that!”

  A shadowy form rose from the Squad’s position and ran toward her.

  The display on Laverna’s screen identified the form as Osborne.

  “…Osborne… don’t…” Laverna muttered.

  “Stay right there, I’m coming,” Osborne snapped.

  Another shadowy form emerged behind him. Laverna’s helmet display identified that form as Harrison, the newbie.

  They weren’t friends and, in Harrison’s case, they were barely acquaintances. But they were fellow soldiers and that bond was stro
ng. Though their Medi-Display, Osborn and Harrison knew the extent of Laverna’s injuries and they weren’t about to abandon her.

  “Don’t…” Laverna repeated. She could barely hear herself speak.

  Laverna closed her eyes. Darkness was taking hold of her. She violently shook her head and looked back at the road. The two soldiers coming to her aid slowed as they neared. They stopped.

  Don’t stop. Please don’t stop—

  “Look!” Harrison yelled.

  A shock wave mightier than those which came before burst through the block, shattering any remaining intact windows. Laverna held on tight to the elderly woman as they were lifted then slammed against the concrete walkway.

  Laverna saw stars. Her ears rang and her nose bled.

  In the near distance a short way down the block appeared an enormous column of smoke.

  “The drones are picking up energy spikes!” Sergeant Castor yelled.

  “What is it?” Osborne called back. His suit was covered in dust and shrapnel stuck out of it. He gripped his fusion rifle tight while barely standing. Like Laverna, he too had sustained injuries.

  “Don’t know.”

  There came a creaking sound, that of metal twisting. A building in the distance shifted. Its movement was slow, as if an enormous dancer attempting a pirouette. The building fell forward, slamming into the building next to it and bringing it down as well. The cries of citizens were heard.

  “By the Gods!” Harrison said. “I’m reading hundreds –thousands– dead!”

  “More spikes,” Sergeant Castor said. “They’re moving in our direction.”

  “Fuck,” Osborne said.

  Around them, very suddenly, was complete and total silence. Fires burned and heavy smoke rose from the ashes of this section of Gehinnom. They were in Hades and there was no escape.

  Laverna knew.

  Something very, very bad was about to reveal itself.

  Osborne and Harrison raised their weapons. They aimed them at the destruction, aware the cause of this inferno was about to emerge.

  From the silence came the sound of yet more twisting metal. It grew louder, then louder still.

  “Easy,” Osborne told Harrison.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Harrison said.

  Osborne managed a smile.

  “You’re all right,” he said.

  Suddenly, their voices were replaced by a high pitched squeal. The comm jammers locked onto the Peacekeeper’s signal and killed their ability to communicate.

  Sixteen shadowy figures emerged from the dust.

  They were humanoid in shape but their skin was composed of dark, shiny metal. They possessed neither faces nor fingers and their movements betrayed a mechanical efficiency. They did not carry any visible weapons yet there was no doubt they caused this massive destruction.

  They were angels of death come to take the remaining souls with them.

  7

  The shadowy forms stepped through the debris in perfect formation.

  They paused.

  “What in Hades are they?” Harrison yelled.

  His voice was muffled behind his helmet cover. With their comm systems jammed, the only way to communicate was to yell.

  Osborne lifted his fusion rifle.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Osborne yelled back. “Fry them!”

  As one, Osborne and Harrison opened fire.

  The blasts lit up the hazy dust, flashing like rockets across the road and slamming into the approaching forms.

  The blasts took out concrete and sidewalk and created more clouds of smoke and dust.

  Harrison and Osborne kept firing even when their targets disappeared from view. In seconds, their rifle barrels glowed red hot but they kept firing. Finally, Osborne shouted:

  “Cease fire!”

  Steam rose from the weapons’ sizzling barrels. They were spent and, for the moment, useless.

  “Did we get them?” Harrison asked.

  Osborne didn’t reply.

  All was once again silent. Eerily so.

  The dust and smoke lifted.

  The shadowy forms were exactly where they were before the barrage.

  “Oh sh—” Osborne began.

  Three fusion blasts emerged from the receding dust and flew directly at Osborne. The first ripped through his chest plate and emerged out his back. Osborne’s insides were atomized and the edges of the wound roasted.

  The second blast took out his left leg and the third, arriving simultaneously, vaporized Osborne’s head.

  What remained of the burly soldier fell to the ground while his still red hot fusion rifle clattered harmlessly on the ash covered concrete.

  “No!” Laverna yelled as tears rolled down her face. Her focus turned to Harrison and she continued yelling. “Get down! Get—”

  More crackles of energy flew from the silhouetted forms’ arms.

  Harrison looked directly into Laverna’s eyes. He didn’t run. He knew it was pointless to do so.

  He too was incinerated by the creatures’ blasts. His mangled body fell next to Osborne’s.

  Laverna’s display came back online. Her squad was in disarray and on the run. Digital signatures disappeared, indicating more deaths. In time, all that remained were three survivors: Laverna, the elderly lady, and Sergeant Castor.

  Sergeant Castor stood his ground. Laverna saw him through the smoke. He looked her way, his eyes red and filled with fear. He knew staying was just as hopeless as attempting a retreat.

  All that was left was to wait their fate.

  Laverna heard an ear shattering whistle.

  An energy blast lit up Sergeant Castor’s chest.

  Laverna was in a daze.

  It was stunning how quickly her squad, a force to be reckoned with, was wiped out. Everyone she knew was dead. Everyone.

  The elderly woman groaned.

  She had suffered more injuries but lived. Thanks to the meds given to her, her vitals were reasonably stable.

  “You’ll survive,” Laverna said while fighting off her own mental surrender.

  At least you won’t see it coming.

  Laverna stared at the street and had her clearest look at the attackers yet.

  It was hard to keep from screaming.

  Doctor Psuche was very silent.

  He did not shuffle paper nor write.

  “That’s all?” he said.

  Laverna frowned.

  “That’s all I remember,” she said. “Please, Doctor. I’m so tired…”

  Doctor Psuche closed his folder and cleared his throat.

  “We’ll stop,” he said.

  “What happened?” Laverna asked. “Did the old lady make it?”

  The Doctor didn’t say.

  “Tell me!” Laverna begged.

  She heard the squeak of the chair. The Doctor was on his feet and a door slid open.

  “Wait!” Laverna said. “What attacked us? Please… tell me!”

  The Doctor stopped at the door. For several long moments he was still.

  “Can you at least… at least take these restraints off?”

  “I can’t,” the Doctor said. There was fear in his voice.

  “Why not?”

  The man wouldn’t say.

  “We’ll talk again.”

  Laverna knew it was a lie.

  With those last words, he was gone.

  8

  Capital City Parisia on the Planet Davilia. The Phaecian Empire. Year 5058 A.E.

  The Intruder arrived at dawn and three days before the event. He flew in by Common Shuttle.

  Customs and International Arrivals was, as usual, filled with people and few noticed as he moved from the boarding gate. His features were designed to be perfectly average and forgettable. His hair was brown and his clothing tan and muted. The style was neither too old nor too flashy. The look he projected was as bland as possible.

  He made no eye contact with his fellow travelers and avoided crowds while keeping as close to them as po
ssible. He carried a small canvas duffle bag and, once in the luggage claim zone, did not stop to pick up any additional bags. He walked past this area and directly to the Customs line where he patiently waited his turn.

  Once before a Customs Officer, he followed the written directions illuminated before him and inserted his right hand into the Citizen Band machine. Lights within the device came on and the identity chip planted just under his skin was scanned. He then felt an almost imperceptible pinprick. A tiny amount of blood and tissue was taken from the palm of his hand and a DNA check was initiated. As all this was going on the Customs Officer checked the updated information on his computer.

  “You’re here for business or pleasure?” the Officer asked.

  “Vacation,” the man replied. “I never miss the Parisia Art Festival.”

  That casual bit of information was enough to make the Officer click a few buttons to verify the new arrival’s story. According to his records, the man came to Parisia seven years in a row and at this same time.

  “A regular?” the Officer said.

  The man smiled at the pleasant, meaningless conversation.

  “Should be a good one this year,” he said. “Anything to make up for the bad weather last year.”

  “Bad?”

  “Rained real hard. Ruined most of the show.”

  The Officer thought about that.

  “Oh yeah,” he said, the memory of the previous year came to him and his officious attitude changed. He chuckled. “The wife had a family picnic for my parent’s anniversary. We rented a lot next to a… well, it doesn’t matter. We had to move everyone to the house. They made quite a mess.”

  The Customs Officer grinned and shook his head, little realizing the Intruder already knew this. Not only did he have information on this particular Customs Officer, he had information on every one of the fifty Officers who worked this shift. The Intruder could bring up hundreds of conversations involving thousands of different topics all designed to ease whichever Customs Officer he encountered.

  “Looks like we both had a bad time,” the Intruder said.

  “Trust me, mine was much worse than yours. You don’t want to get trapped in close quarters with my In-Laws.”

  They both laughed. Though the Officer could initiate any number of additional security checks, the conversation put him at ease.