Redemption Protocol (Contact)
Page 28
He glanced back at Tomas.
“And you think that's a good idea, blood and sacrifice?”
Both princes nodded confidently.
Havoc muttered to himself.
“Into the valley of death rode the six hundred...”
Charles raised his chin defiantly.
“I'm not afraid. There's nothing we're planning that I can't do.”
Havoc nodded.
“I agree. We're not planning anything that can't be done by a twenty year old... who has twenty five years of experience.”
Novosa laughed. Charles looked offended. Havoc could tell Charles was marshaling his arguments.
“Look, Charles, I don't doubt your courage. We’ll look at what you can do once we get established. But please, for the moment, let me do my job. Deal?”
Charles considered this and nodded.
Tomas sneered at Charles.
“Hah. He knows you’re not up to it. He just won’t tell you the truth.”
Havoc looked at Tomas.
“I have told him the truth. I wouldn't trust either of you to lead until I know you can look after the team.”
Tomas scowled at him.
“Look after the team? You sound like an old dog that’s lost his courage. We are bold and you are bitter.”
Havoc laughed.
“There are old dogs and there are bold dogs, Tomas, but there are no old, bold dogs.”
“I wouldn't want to get old if it meant being as scared as you.”
Havoc chuckled.
“Well there's a lot to be scared of, Tomas. We all get scared, trust me.”
“Bullshit.”
Charles appealed to Havoc.
“I'm not scared. Let me prove it!”
Havoc felt like a harassed parent.
“You'll get your chance. Just not yet.”
“When?”
“Not yet.”
Novosa laughed.
“Shut up and let daddy drive.”
The princes slumped back in their seats.
Havoc reflected on the exchange. Charles might not be a fan of mindless slaughter but he still had a lot to prove. He glanced back.
“Are you post-Krypteja, Charles?”
Both princes looked a little shocked at the question.
“Kry-what?” Kemensky said.
Tomas turned to Kemensky proudly.
“The Krypteja is a coming of age ritual for the male members of our Royal Family in line for the throne. It’s our rite of passage into manhood and princeship.”
Charles gazed downward.
“And no, I have not completed it yet.”
Tomas smiled with his eyes bright.
“And so you are not yet a man.”
Charles pursed his lips. He didn’t reply.
Touvenay spoke from orbit, his tone neutral rather than judgmental.
“It really is exceedingly barbaric.”
Tomas’s eyes narrowed.
“Different societies in the Alliance value different things. My father, our Exalted Emperor, feels the Krypteja is an essential part of a Prince growing into manhood by demonstrating the qualities necessary to rule. He is right.”
Touvenay’s tone was as mild as his words were barbed.
“It says more about the kind of society your Emperor would rule over.”
Tomas’s eyes flashed.
“You wouldn't––”
Havoc glanced back as Tomas cut off in mid-retort. Havoc assumed Charles and Tomas were casting to each other. Tomas turned away with a resentful expression. Charles answered Touvenay in a dignified tone.
“You are entitled to your opinion, of course, and to express it in our Alliance.”
Kemensky leaned forward, fascinated.
“What does it comprise, this Kry...?”
Tomas turned back to him.
“It is a test for princeship. The men of the Neuworld Empire are either Citizens or Helots. One night in every two years the candidate princes go out unarmed into our capital city of Staffron. We have to kill ten Helot men by dawn. If you do not kill ten Helots, you are not meant to come back at all.”
Tomas looked sideways at Charles as he said the last part.
Kemensky frowned.
“Why would anyone be a Helot?”
Tomas sneered.
“One achieves citizenship by birth or enrollment in the military. If you are not born a Citizen, and you don’t enlist, then you are soft and weak, kept safe only through the strength of our great Empire, and consequently not worthy of citizenship.”
“Have you done your Krypteja?” Kemensky said.
Tomas nodded.
“Three years ago. I was Primum Maximus, the first to return to the palace.”
Kemensky raised his eyebrows.
“My God.”
Tomas spoke by rote.
“To lead is to choose and to choose well, one must be ruthless.”
Kemensky looked at Charles.
“Do you have to do it?”
Charles looked dismayed while Tomas grinned gleefully.
“If he has not done it within four years of coming of age, he will himself be sent into Staffron and hunted by the others. It will bring a great shame on his family.”
“It hasn't happened yet!” Charles said.
Tomas sneered.
“Yet.”
“I can do it.”
“Facta, non verba,” Tomas said. Deeds, not words.
“But what about the mission time?” Kemensky said.
Tomas gave Charles a knowing look.
“Time on diplomatic missions does not count.”
Havoc glanced over his shoulder at Charles. Charles stared back blankly. Maybe Charles really did have something to prove, Havoc thought, either to himself or someone else. If Tomas hadn't been sitting on Charles’s shoulder, Havoc might have asked him.
Tomas looked at his half-brother disdainfully.
“You'll have to find another way to prove yourself.”
“Why not prove you can live through this?” Havoc said.
Charles stared straight ahead. He didn’t reply.
Novosa glanced at Havoc.
> Will Tomas put Charles up to something stupid?
Havoc nodded.
> Thinking the same thing.
> Can you slave their suits?
> No, because they're diplomatic emissaries.
> They're kids.
> I'm with you.
They flew on, the expressions on the princes’ faces indicating they were communicating by cast. Charles looked hunted and Tomas looked bullish.
“We're close,” Novosa said.
The pyramid reared up over the horizon. It grew rapidly, dominating the landscape and everyone's thoughts.
Ahead of them were the three guardians. They knew they were dangerous. They just didn't know how dangerous.
Unknown capability. Unknown lethality.
69.
Weaver felt guilty about sending Kemensky to the pyramid with Havoc, but she also felt like she might be saving him from harm. They didn't yet understand the consequences of a failed attempt to access one of the Plash artifacts, but it was conceivable, given the 'power level' concept, that it could hurt or kill.
They'd practically had to drag Kemensky out of the alien ship. He was besotted with it. It was, Weaver conceded, incredible. They’d gone into the circular central cabin when Havoc had called to them. The apparent size and physiology of the creature that would use the craft was fascinating and more than a little intimidating. The access level on the panel inside the ship was of a spectacularly higher order of difficulty than the code she'd decrypted at the main entrance. Not only that but the power level it signified was immense. It was too dangerous to contemplate at their current level of understanding. Despite that, Weaver thought Kemensky might have tried it given half a chance. Kemensky had looked like he was going to throw a tantrum when Havoc, citing the diminishing night time, finally grabbed Kemensky’s sui
t collar and marched him out for the flight to the pyramid.
She thought about the mechanism she’d used to open the gate. Despite the tremendous scientific advances made by humanity, their understanding of consciousness was incomplete. Like the distinction between art and pornography, it was a ‘you know it when you see it’ type of concept. A workable scientific definition with measurable characteristics was impossible to specify. The possibility that a Plash species could not only define consciousness, but identify an instance of one, had profound implications for their understanding of concepts such as consciousness and the soul. Was a soul measurable? These were scientific questions to Weaver but she knew that the established religions, not to mention the new ones that would inevitably spring up out of these developments, would be equally enthralled.
There was so much to explore, it was exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time. Weaver knew where she wanted to start. The plinths on the main floor of the cavern appeared to be access points and if this was a library, well, it could be the single greatest discovery in human history. She shivered at the thought of it.
She checked the sample chamber that she'd attached to the front of a plinth. Karch had erected a screen lock over the entrance to the cavern, but it would take time to fill with air. Weaver’s heart sped up a little as she looked at the plinth. She was ready to go. She tried to relax her breathing.
“I'm going to try and access it now.”
Karch stood nearby, disconcertingly tall in her combat suit.
“Pull you out after two minutes?”
It was what they’d agreed.
“Yes.”
Karch's big eyes looked reassuringly confident.
“You got it. Good luck, honey.”
A shiver of excitement passed through Weaver.
“Thanks.”
She pressed her hand against the plinth.
70.
The pyramid reared up in front of Havoc, dark and foreboding, with storm clouds seething around its summit. Havoc looked along the line at Kemensky, Tomas and Charles, all rigged with jetpacks and hovering near the top of the wall. He’d gathered two clusters of three drones behind them, on either side of their team. The drones would be their decoys. Ten targets in all, with the four of them in the center.
“Novosa?”
Novosa was in the shuttle, a kilometer behind them on the surface, overseeing the drones and the four platforms that loitered in the sky behind them.
“You’re clear.”
Havoc had slaved Kemensky's suit to his own, though when he’d suggested that option to the esteemed young diplomats they’d rejected it out of hand. He didn’t blame them – he would of as well. The princes bobbed in their silver and gold suits, the insignia of their houses and bright red creatures emblazoned on them.
“Remember lads, courage in the face of experience is stupid and irresponsible. Especially if you put the team in danger.”
“I understand,” Charles said.
Tomas smirked.
In one ear and out the other, Havoc thought. Nothing as dangerous as a man with something to prove.
“We'll do five sweeps in total. We'll increase penetration each time. No more than a kilometer in, maximum, on the first sweep.”
> They'll be disappointed.
> Disappointed but alive.
“If you reach the entrance for any reason then enter and wait. Don't wander. For all we know there could be another set of those guardians inside.”
And then we'll die, probably, Havoc thought.
“We’re ready,” Charles said.
“Let’s go!” Tomas said.
“I agree. Can we get on with this now please?” Kemensky said.
Havoc glanced at Kemensky. Weaver had pretended to think about it for a whole three seconds before volunteering Kemensky for the pyramid – he was as enthusiastic as a cat on bath day.
“Still no thoughts about the entrance, Kemensky?”
Kemensky brightened at this scientific conundrum.
“Really no idea at all.”
Havoc nodded, still adjusting to the scientists’ perverted value system. They couldn't get any readings from the dark pyramid entrances – if they were, in fact, entrances at all.
Havoc simulcast to text and speech. From now on he would simulcast everything so it was received the instant he thought it.
“Alright, drop back half a klick.”
The four of them flew back from the wall.
Havoc reviewed the terrain across the inner plaza to the entrance in the middle of the east wall. It was only three kilometers. The issue was that he wanted to get there as fast as possible, but he also wanted to slow down enough that he didn't crash into the pyramid like a fly hitting a windscreen.
The cloud lifted off the pyramid and its summit appeared with a contrail twirling from it like a banner. He checked the line. It looked good. He sent the six drones ahead of them.
“Advance.”
They accelerated in a line like a flying cavalry charge.
“Novosa.”
Novosa sent her diversionary drones curving over the north and south walls to draw warning fire.
The wall and its line of ideograms rushed toward them. They swooped down over the wall, still accelerating.
Havoc watched the tracks of the northern and southern guardians on his battlespace. The guardians had to travel two kilometers to reach the corners of the pyramid before they had a clear shot.
They moved fast.
Havoc reached five hundred meters in, still accelerating. The guardians were halfway to the shot.
“Turn back.”
Tomas gave a frenzied cry as he pointed ahead.
“Go, Charles!”
Havoc watched with disbelief as the silver suited wannabe hero curved away, accelerating toward the south east corner of the pyramid.
“Oh no you don't.”
“Oh no,” Kemensky said.
Tomas turned after him.
“I'll stay with him.”
“No, don't.”
Decision time. Havoc had to go with them if he was to protect them, but if they reached the pyramid and found an access panel they would need Kemensky to get to safety.
“We all go.”
Charles accelerated toward the southeast corner.
“I'll cover you.”
Havoc couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Cover them? What was he planning to do, fight the things?
“You are fifteen hundred meters in,” Novosa said, “north and south guardians are converging on the corners and we have activity from west.”
The western guardian shouldn't be a problem, Havoc thought. It should all be over by the time the western guardian made it round from the far side.
“West is coming over the top,” Novosa said.
“Oh no,” Kemensky said.
On the battlespace the western guardian sped straight up the far side of the pyramid. So, depending on its speed, it would fire shortly after north and south. This was very bad news.
Havoc made a critical, irreversible decision and acted on it. He flew over the ground at three hundred kilometers per hour with Kemensky just to his right. Tomas had drifted to their left and Charles was way out on his own.
Novosa’s voice was calm as she described their impending encounter.
“North and south imminent, west is nearing the summit.”
Charles’s silver suit was a magnificent target. Havoc advanced the three drones in front of him.
“Get to the entrance, Charles. The entrance!”
Charles altered course slightly, jetting for the entrance.
“I'm covering you.”
Spare me, Havoc thought.
“Novosa get two blades over the wall.”
“Copy.”
“Watch your speed everyone.”
The two guardians burst round their
respective corners like two Gods of War consumed by bloodlust and hell bent on battlefield slaughter. They reared up, wings flaring out, and each raised a clawed appendage.
Kinetics screamed over the drones. Warning shots. The hypersonic javelins left the guardians' weapons traveling over three kilometers per second. Hard to dodge, Havoc thought, as the massive kinetics seared over his head. He lased the shit out of the spread heading past him, but they were of sufficient mass that it didn't make any difference. The energy imparted by a hit was going to be colossal. Fatal. Don't get hit.
The hypersonic double crack of the projectiles reached him after the kinetics had passed.
“You’re nine hundred meters out.”
Havoc scanned ahead into the entrance but as before he sensed nothing, his signals simply absorbed. He needed to make the call. If a tunnel ran inside behind the black curtain they could hit it with higher speed. If it didn't and they hit a wall then it would hurt. But if they slowed down the guardians would obliterate them.
“Go in straight at one fifty, we'll slow down inside. Charles, get in line with the entrance.”
The guardians were firing for real now.
The first two drones vanished in a puff of smoke like a conjurers trick. Four drones left.
“You’re five hundred meters out.”
Havoc jetted toward the dark entrance that was completely obscured to sensing. A pool of blackness. This was fucking crazy.
The next two drones went down. One volley from each side and they ceased to exist. Two left.
“Three hundred meters.”
It was too far. They were too slow.
“Head’s up, west is imminent.”
The last two drones went down, annihilated into smoke and splinters.
Novosa’s four blades hurtled directly at the guardians. They were obliterated as if Thor himself had swung his hammer.
“One hundred and fifty meters.”
The others were yelling as if on a roller coaster ride going over the top. Havoc launched nanoscreen cartridges like a dog shedding water.
“Chaff, everything.”
They would have hit the inky darkness at two hundred kilometers per hour. But they weren't going to make it.
Nanoscreen, shimmers, chaff, screamers and decoy rockets streamed out of their suits.
The guardians lined up.