“Ana,” Daniel began hurriedly, “I need you to re-modulate the SDU before you fire. I’m beaming the harmonics over now.”
“Understood,” Ana replied, sending the data directly to main engineering as soon as it arrived. “Remodulation complete.”
“Very good,” replied the Admiral. “Fire on my command.”
Anastasia belatedly realized that, in moving his ship, Daniel had also removed himself from the SDU’s lethal range.
“Now!”
Anastasia hit the fire button, releasing the pent-up energy that had been accumulating in the SDU’s massive collectors. A wave of energy began to radiate from the ship, and, as it did, Anastasia noticed a similar reaction taking place on the Apocalypse.
But the Apocalypse doesn’t have a Subspace Destabilization Unit, Anastasia mused, just as suddenly realizing. But it does have an Omega Cannon.
The space in front of the Apocalypse shimmered as the characteristic deformation of the Omega Cannon shot from the vessel’s nose and reached the enemy craft just as the discharge from the Inferno did. Where they collided, a spectacular reaction took place, almost bright enough to overpower the self-dimming viewscreen. The distortion of the Wind of Death seemed to spread over the surface of the Lucani Ibron vessel, deforming the spherical fluid skin and causing it to expand erratically. The silver liquid seemed to become translucent, as several points of light could be seen behind the watery façade. With an abrupt shimmer, the entire hull instantly disappeared, leaving several floating lights bobbing silently on the viewscreen. Aside from their slight movement, they were nearly indistinguishable from the faraway stars.
“My God,” breathed Victor. “We destroyed the ship.”
Before celebrations could ensue, the light-points on the viewscreen promptly elongated and shot away. Ana blinked quickly and scanned the starry background to be sure the aliens had really disappeared.
Her eyes involuntarily wandered to New Burma, rotating peacefully below, blissfully unaware that mere seconds were all that had separated it from outright annihilation.
. . . . .
Zach awoke slowly, and his mind took a few moments to clear. At first, he thought he was perhaps still in the infirmary, but as soon as he opened his eyes he knew that not to be the case.
Instinctively, Zach tried to get up, but found to his horror that he was unable to move from the neck down. He squirmed his head violently and tried to will his extremities into motion, to no avail.
My God, he thought helplessly. I’m paralyzed.
It was the realization that the room he was in was abnormally cold that snapped the Commander’s mind back into motion. He could, after all, feel the chill in several parts of his body, which led him to believe—or hope—that he was merely being confined by unseen restraints. It did seem to him that he could feel his entire body, and was simply unable to move it.
Commander Wallace closed his eyes as a wave of drowsiness passed over him, then slowly reopened them and took stock of his surroundings. Through his narrowed field of vision, he could see only a plain white ceiling and four unadorned white walls. It appeared, he thought, to be some sort of antiseptic hospital or operating room, except with no doors, machinery, or equipment of any kind.
Actually, he hastily appended, it seemed far more like a laboratory than a hospital or place of healing.
Zach looked about the room, and a light at the periphery of his vision caught his attention. As it hovered closer to him, Zach recognized the being as a Lucani Ibron, and he reflexively strained to free himself from his unseen shackles.
“Do not try to move, human,” the being spoke into his head. “You will find such attempts totally fruitless.”
The light-being drew nearer, and Zach was forced to close his eyes, unable to shield them with his hands. The intense light of the alien, now only a few centimeters away, lit the inside of his eyelids with a diffuse pink glow. Zach thought he felt a faint warmth on his face as the being hovered over his body, but the alien had no odor, and no air wafted over his face as the Lucani Ibron scrutinized him. It hovered there for a moment, and then the diminution of the light penetrating his eyelids informed the Commander that the being had retreated to a greater distance.
“What are you going to do with me?” Zach asked, slowly reopening his eyes. “Why have you brought me here?”
The alien’s body flickered erratically, and it hovered closer once again. “We are going to use you, human. We are going to use you to help us wipe out your own race.”
Zach’s jaw hardened as the alien floated out past his limited field of vision. “I won’t help you, you know. You may as well just kill me now, because whatever you want me to do, I won’t do it.”
He was answered only by silence.
“Did you hear what I said?” he shouted into the empty air. “I won’t help you. I won’t!”
But Zach’s last words were spoken only to himself. His Lucani Ibron examiner had already disappeared through one of the room’s plain white walls.
. . . . .
Daniel released a long breath, one that he was not aware he had been holding. He looked again at the viewscreen, which showed nothing but empty space, and scanned the stars for some remnant of the Lucani Ibron vessel. He scoured the tactical displays, finding nothing, and felt almost foolish as he triple-checked that the planet of New Burma still spun lazily beneath him.
Anastasia’s face quickly filled the viewscreen. Her expression was one of relief, but also continuing concern. “I have an incoming transmission from Admiral Wright. I thought you might like to see it.”
Daniel nodded and the screen changed to show a split view of the bridge of the Inferno and the incoming transmission from Wright. Within a moment, the right half of the screen flickered to life, and Wright’s wrinkled face dominated the screen. Daniel could not help but think that the viewcam should be zoomed less—the years had not been kind to Wright, and he had visibly aged even in the last few years.
“Commander Mason,” he began, “I see you finally have some good news for me.”
“Yes, Admiral. New Burma is safe. The Lucani Ibron ship has been destroyed.”
There was a slight delay as the message was relayed back to Earth. “One of the Lucani Ibron ships,” Wright corrected her.
Daniel could sense that Anastasia was fighting to prevent her feelings from showing. “Yes, sir. One of the ships. Have there been other attacks?”
Daniel awaited the Fleet Admiral’s reply, content for the moment simply to observe the discussion.
A long sigh escaped Wright’s lips. “Well, Captain, two other ships attacked two new planets, just as we had anticipated. The good news is that we were able to prevent the destruction of one of them—Zebulon Beta.”
“Zebulon Beta?” Atgard interrupted, forgetting his role of observer. “Didn’t Commander Zach Wallace head to Zebulon Beta several hours ago?”
Captain Mason stared heavily at the Admiral. “Zach was there?”
The Fleet Admiral’s delayed response cut short Daniel’s reply. “Yes. Whatever your sources, they are correct.” A brief twitch flashed across Wright’s face, and his expression became troubled. “In fact, it was Zach Wallace who was responsible for saving the planet.”
Anastasia’s concerned expression did not disappear. “What happened to Zach?” she asked, evidently picking up on Wright’s listless tone. “Don’t wait for the relay—what happened to Zach?” Her voice had reached a fever pitch. She looked at Daniel, a sense of panic evident in her eyes.
The response seemed to take longer than usual to arrive. “I’m sorry, Anastasia. Zach—it appears he was captured by the Lucani Ibron ship.”
Daniel saw Anastasia’s hand go involuntarily to her mouth.
“I am sorry,” continued the Fleet Admiral. “I know he was your friend. But what he did was incredibly heroic. He single-handedly was able to stop the alien vessel from deploying its superweapon. We’re still not exactly sure how he …”
; Wright’s voice trailed off. He could see that Anastasia had begun sobbing.
“Admiral,” Daniel interjected, eager, for Anastasia’s sake, to change the subject and complete the communication, “what happened to the third planet?”
Wright nodded his bony head. “The third planet has been destroyed by the aliens.” His eyes perked up, as if trying to breathe hope back into the situation. “We destroyed one of their ships, had a stalemate at one planet, and lost a planet. I guess you could say it was a draw.”
Anastasia abruptly looked back up. Daniel caught a glint of fury flash through her cobalt eyes.
“A draw?” she asked, enraged. “Three billion people are killed and you call it a draw?”
Wright was speechless, though as a result of Anastasia’s words or the transmission delay, Daniel was not sure.
“Zach Wallace is captured by those monsters and you call it a draw?” She looked as if she were on the verge of leaping through the viewscreen, oblivious to the scores of parsecs that separated her from Joseph Wright. Daniel could see a faint tremor wrack her body.
“I am sorry about your friend,” came Wright’s belated reply. “And mere words can not express my sorrow that another planet was destroyed by these Lucani Ibron butchers.” He straightened himself in his seat. “But sorrow for those losses will not help us now, will not help the rest of the planets that are counting on us for protection. Zach Wallace’s sacrifice, while tragic, has given us invaluable information, information that even now is being picked apart by our top weapons specialists. Not only did he save a world, but he may have given us the intelligence we need to save countless more lives. And your own heroics today have similarly given us hope. For the first time in a long while, humanity has a fighting chance against these monsters. You have shown they are vulnerable. You have shown they can be beaten, that other worlds can be saved. I did not mean to make light of your friend’s sacrifice, or the tragedy that has befallen the lost world of Mynos III—my own home planet. But today may well be remembered as the day we turned the tide. The day humanity saved itself from extinction.”
The Fleet Admiral pursed his lips, and continued. “I need you, Captain Mason. I need you to protect another planet. I need you to help end this terrible threat.”
The Captain composed herself quickly. “Yes, sir,” she replied. “Just tell me where they’re going to be.”
“Good. Our people are trying to track the remaining ships now. I will send you both your new destinations as soon as I have word. Wright out.”
Daniel leaned toward the viewscreen. “Destinations?” he repeated. “Did you say destinations?”
The right half of the viewscreen winked out, and the viewscreen changed to show only the bridge of the Inferno.
“Daniel,” asked Anastasia, visibly upset, “did he say destinations?”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 16
The rifle felt comfortable in the Commander’s hands, his fingers closing naturally around its molded grip. He had used it so frequently, the weapon was almost an extension of himself, an appendage he could control almost without conscious thought. Dex no longer had to think of his finger squeezing the trigger—he just willed the weapon to fire, and it did.
But something about it did not feel comfortable now.
Dex crouched behind the corner of a dilapidated cement building. A light rain spattered noisily on the broken ground. His bulky combat armour shifted about his frame as he inched toward the edge, peering into the dark, muggy night air. He moved silently, gracefully, as if unaware of the awkward armour he was encumbered with or how uncomfortably warm it was. With practiced movements, he peered around the building’s edge and quickly scanned the alley with discerning eyes.
The same two vagrants were patrolling the entrance to the far building. Though disguised, Dex could see that the two men actually carried heavy rifles, shifting beneath their ragged clothing as they walked.
Amateurs, thought the Commander. Smaller, more easily concealed weapons would have worked just as well, and would have helped sustain the ruse. Not that the Commander would have been fooled. It was clear to him by the way neither man let the alley entrance out of their sight—and just as clear by the way they each tried too meticulously to act like derelicts.
Dex sighed. It was precisely because they were amateurs that this mission troubled him. Though he had conclusive evidence that at least a terrorist cell was based in this building, he was afraid that they would not realize the superior force arrayed against them, and would foolishly fight to the death. And when an enemy, no matter how inexperienced in combat, was firing real bullets, the safety of Dex’s men came first. As much as he wished to avoid bloodshed, Dex would not alter his strategy in a way that would place his men at heightened risk.
At least these first two can be neutralized without killing them, thought the Commander. Even as he thought it, he could see the tiny droid that carried the silent gas bomb roll down the shadows of the dark alley toward the two guards. A moment later, there was an almost inaudible poof, and a colorless, odorless gas surrounded the men, who collapsed a moment later.
Without a word, Dex fastened his gas mask and motioned for his men to advance, and began swiftly moving down the alley himself. Up above, several Commandos entered the building through windows and ventilation ducts, gas bombs at the ready and their weapons set on stun. But if the terrorists inside the building had gas masks or body armour, deadly force would have to be used, and his men were authorized to use it.
The lock on the door was rudimentary, and Dex had it open in seconds. He silently swung the door open, leveling his rifle as he scoped down the hallway. No one was visible in the darkened interior, and little light streamed in from the unlit alley. The building appeared to be an apartment complex, but Dex knew from recon reports that all four apartments on the second floor were occupied by terrorists. He hoped none of the civilians in the building came home or left their apartments at an inopportune time.
Dex’s men quickly fanned out and silently started up the stairs two at a time. Dex followed, and motioned for his men to hold back on the landing halfway between the floors.
Commander Rutcliffe peered around the corner, and heard a pair of voices from the hallway upstairs. A faint light from the floor above illuminated the landing, and Dex could see the shadow of one man coming across his field of vision from the left. From the sound of his voice and lack of shadow, Dex surmised that the other man was to his right.
Reaching to the holster on his waist, Dex gripped the pistol and flipped off its safety, ensuring that the weapon was set to stun. He glided up the stairs without sound, pointing his rifle toward the shadow on the left and readying his pistol in the other direction. In a moment, he was in the hallway, and two shots rang out, catching each man in the chest and causing them to slump loudly to the floor. From the other stairway, four of his men descended, training their rifles down the hallway, each pointed at a different door. Soon after, a second group of four came up from below and situated themselves similarly.
A door opened and a pair of flashes reached in, striking the man before he could even step into the hallway. But Dex could see the glint of the man’s stolryne armour as he stepped into the hallway, and quickly flipped the switch on his rifle to kill. He hesitated for an uncharacteristic instant, then burned a hole through the armour plating’s left breast. The man’s eyes went wide and his rifle dropped from his hand. He followed it to the ground a moment later.
A muffled thump heralded a gas bomb being launched into the empty apartment, and all three other doors opened simultaneously. Lasers shot from the apartments even before the doors were fully open, firing blindly into the hallway. Dex’s men returned fire, and several more rounds from the gas bomb launcher were poured into the doorways. The air in the hallway was soon thick with the gas, so concentrated now that it distorted the Commander’s field of vision like heat-haze on a humid day. Soon, the firing from the apartments had ceased, and his men began
methodically checking the rooms for conscious survivors. A few men lay sprawled in the doorways, most unconscious from the gas, but two with blaster marks in their chests. Dex looked to the man he had killed, crumpled lifelessly across the doorway, his rifle centimeters from his lifeless hand. His open eyes stared unblinkingly at Dex.
The Commander lowered his rifle to his side. The man looked no more than twenty.
. . . . .
Anastasia slumped lower into her chair. “I still don’t like it.”
“Neither do I,” Daniel replied over the viewscreen. “In fact, I’m looking over the sensor readings from our last attack, and I may have found a clue as to why we were able to destroy the ship.”
The Captain leaned forward.
“During our attack,” he continued, “I was monitoring the alien ship’s hull. My sensors were scanning for changes in density, energy readings, radiation emissions, and even molecular composition.”
“Molecular composition?” Anastasia repeated.
“Yes, well, I thought that one was a long shot. But it turns out the ship’s hull actually changed its molecular composition according to what type of attack we directed against it.”
Captain Mason looked perplexed. “You’re not saying that they can actually anticipate our attacks and somehow change what their ship’s hull is made of, are you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. When we attacked with conventional weapons, the hull formed into some sort of galvanized titanium alloy. But,” he continued, staring down at his console, “when I fired the Omega Cannon, the entire hull transmuted into an element I’ve never seen before. The computers have no record of it ever being discovered or even made in a lab.”
“So that’s how they make themselves invincible,” Anastasia replied. “Since no one hull could withstand any type of attack, they actually change the hull in response to what we throw at it.”
“Precisely,” agreed the Admiral. “But when the effect wave from your SDU impacted the hull …”
“Which was already formed to withstand your Omega Cannon …”
Declination Page 16
