by Ellis,Tripp
Levi helped Presley up and over the sharp fragments of glass that remained in the window frame. She tiptoed through the shards that lay strewn about the floor. She felt the sting as one of them pierced into the ball of her foot. She hobbled aside, stepping on more glass.
She grumbled, cursing.
Levi picked her up and carried her in his arms until they cleared the debris. Presley gave him a sideways glance at first, but she figured it was better to let this guy carry her than slice up her feet.
He set her down gently and she plucked the specs of glass from her feet. Blood trickled down from the small puncture wounds.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Levi grabbed a shirt from a nearby rack and tossed it to her. She used it to soak up the blood and apply pressure to the punctures. They weren’t that deep, but enough to be a nuisance. The steady rumble of gunfire and bombs exploding echoed throughout the city.
Levi held out his hand. Presley reluctantly grabbed it, and she let him help her up. Presley liked being self sufficient. She didn’t want to rely on anyone. Especially someone she just met.
They scanned the department store, looking for the shoe section. The store was relatively intact. Only the front portion had sustained real damage. There had been no time for looting, so most of the merchandise remained in place.
Department stores were mostly relics of the past. They had become boutiques for the ultra-rich. Presley had never bought anything from a department store before. She had strolled through Kemp & Rogers once in the past, but she couldn’t afford to buy anything.
Most shopping was done online. If you saw a pair of jeans you liked, the design was sent to your personal fabricator once you purchased it. Then it was 3-D printed before your eyes. No shipping. Some things were manufactured and had to ship the old-fashioned way. If you wanted a real leather jacket, you had to go to a place like Kemp & Rogers. You couldn’t print a bottle of perfume.
Kemp & Rogers was the kind of place that had everything from haute couture to barbecue grills and lawnmowers. Priceless jewelry and state-of-the-art kitchen appliances. Fine cookware and bed linens.
Presley moved past the jewelry, the watches, and the cosmetics. Past the purses and accessories. The whole store still smelled like a mix of perfume samples. She finally made it to the shoe section. Row after row of sleek stiletto heels. But those weren’t going to do her any good. On any other day, she would’ve been drooling over them. But today, she needed a good running shoe.
She dashed past the register into the storeroom. She emerged a few minutes later with a pair of running shoes. She sat in a chair and laced them up. She took a few steps around the area to try them out. “These will do.”
Levi looked astonished. “That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“Impressive. It took my ex-girlfriend an hour to pick out a pair of shoes.”
Presley shot him a look and took off through the store. Levi chased after her, struggling to keep up. “Where are we going?”
“Sporting goods.”
“Why?”
Presley raced up the broken escalator to the second floor. Her eyes surveyed the layout. Within seconds, she found what she was looking for. She raced to the far wall of the sporting goods section. It was lined with hunting rifles.
Presley hopped the counter and browsed the selection. There were a slew of Koenig-Haas .300 magnums, Bösch-Hauer .30-06s and .308s, Dreschler tactical shotguns. She moved past them, looking for the semiautomatics. She found the Richter-Koch 909 carbines. It was a civilian version of the standard issue military rifle preferred by the UPDF.
A slight smile curled up on her lips. You didn’t grow up as the daughter of a Navy Reaper and not have an affinity for guns. She grabbed two off the rack and tossed one to Levi. “You know how to use that?”
Levi stared at the weapon. It was probably the first time he had ever held a rifle. “Um, sort of.”
“Playing War & Wasteland doesn’t count.”
“Uh, then no.”
Presley set the weapon atop the glass counter, then rummaged underneath for some ammunition. She set box after box of 5.56 mm rounds on the counter. She scrounged up as many high-capacity magazines as she could find and began loading them.
Levi just gawked at her.
“You want to give me a hand with this?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
The two loaded the magazines in silence for a moment. The clicking of the polymer cased rounds entering the spring loaded magazine echoed through out the store.
On the first floor, a squad of Decluvian soldiers crunched over broken glass and pushed into the store, sweeping past the cosmetic counter with tactical precision. It was hard to say what drew them into the store. Maybe they were just making a routine sweep. Or maybe they were picking up heat signatures from within the structure, on thermal scanners.
Upstairs, Presley and Levi were still clacking away, preparing for battle. Presley may have had shoes on her feet now, but taking on an alien invasion in shorts and a T-shirt wasn’t going to cut it. “I’ll be right back. Keep loading.”
She darted through the aisles until she found camouflage hunting clothes. There were a plethora of patterns—woodland camo, tiger stripe, digital. She found an extra small pair of urban digital. The extra pockets and pouches would come in handy for carrying magazines and accessories. She slipped out of her shorts and pulled on the pants. They were a pretty close fit. Then she strolled the aisle looking for a tactical vest. She found one that fit the bill and threw it on. She grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with rope and other accessories that she thought might come in handy. She cinched up the vest and returned to Levi at the counter.
Levi’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “You kind of look like a bad ass.”
“Kind of?” she said, lifting an eyebrow at him.
“For a girl.”
“Shut up.”
Presley stuffed the pouches on her vest with magazines. She slipped extra boxes of ammunition in the cargo pockets on her pants. If only she had a few grenades, or a rocket launcher, she thought. But they didn’t sell those in department stores.
The rattle of gunfire filled the air. Blue streaks raced toward Presley. The Decluvian squad had found their way to the sporting goods section. The glass counter case shattered, spewing shards everywhere. The projectiles narrowly missed Presley and Levi. The bolts blasted into the far wall, taking out several rifles.
Presley and Levi dove for cover. Neither one of them had ever been shot at before.
12
Slade
Slade’s face was pensive as she listened to the distorted subspace transmission from the recon patrol. It sounded like a crunchy 8-bit signal going in and out of phase. The pilot’s distraught voice was even more disturbing. “It’s horrible, sir. There’s nothing left of the fleet. Just a bunch of twisted wreckage. There’s major devastation on the surface. I can see the fires from here. It looks like they’ve hit every major metropolitan area. I count at least 30 heavy warships.”
Slade bowed her head for a moment. It was devastating news. Images were filtering back from the recon patrol’s camera. It was one thing to hear about the destruction—it was another to see it. The images gripped Slade by the throat. Her gut twisted up in a knot. It had really happened. New Earth had been attacked. Millions were dead, and millions more would die if they didn’t do something.
“Get back here before you get spotted,” Slade said.
“Aye, sir,” the pilot said. You could tell from the sound of his voice he was more than ready to get the hell out of there.
Slade stood there for a moment, lost in thought. Her eyes stared at the command console. Then she lifted her head. “Zoey, you have the conn.”
“Aye, sir.”
“If you don’t hear from me within 6 hours, jump out of here. Get to someplace safe, find as many refugees as you can, and start the process of rebuilding humanity.”
“Y
ou don’t want us to fight, sir?” Zoey stammered.
“I think Commander Walker may be right on this one,” Slade gave Walker a glance of acknowledgement. “Preservation of the species is our number one priority.”
Zoey looked sullen. “Yes, sir.”
“Violet… I think it’s time we go on a diplomatic mission.”
“Diplomatic mission?”
“I need you to contact your people. We can’t win this battle without their assistance.”
Violet looked concerned. “I’m not sure how the synthetics will respond. It may not be favorable.”
“It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Slade said. “We’re going to Auva Prime.”
“I want to go,” Mitch shouted. He looked like a kid hoping to make the team. Me, me, me, pick me. “You need a navigator. With everyone back at their post, I’m like a fifth wheel around here.”
“A fifth wheel and a couple of spares,” Violet snarked.
“More of me to love, baby.” He winked at her, grabbing his beer belly. Mitch was a jolly fellow that you just couldn’t help but like. He never met a stranger. Despite being a little heavier than he’d like, he thought of himself as the consummate ladies’ man. But the ladies didn’t exactly share the same opinion. Though, he was never going to stop trying to convince them.
Slade nodded. “Alright. Don’t make me regret this.”
“They’ll love me,” Mitch said. “I’m absolutely adorable. What could possibly go wrong?”
Violet rolled her eyes. She busied herself at the console and sent a subspace transmission to Elijah. She couldn’t reach him directly, but hopefully he would receive the message and respond. Either way, Slade was going to make an attempt to forge an alliance.
Slade and the team headed to the flight deck.
The Officer of the Deck, Lt. Phil Atkins, greeted them with a salute. “I just wanted to say, sir, we are all very happy to be back under your command. I know I speak for the rest of the crew when I say that, sir.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Slade said. “I won’t let you down.”
“You never have, sir.”
Atkins had served with Slade over the last three deployments, as did the majority of the current crew. Slade knew these sailors well. And she had earned their trust on many occasions.
“None of us ever agreed with the charges against you. Just so you know.”
Slade smiled and stepped toward the shuttle. She climbed the ramp and strapped into the pilot’s seat. She was going to fly this bird herself.
She flicked a few switches and the system powered up. The shuttle was a Skylark dropship that had been completely disarmed. Even though it was capable of wreaking massive amounts of destruction, Slade didn’t want to have an antagonistic appearance. There were no rockets mounted under the sub wing pylons. There were no bullets for the 30mm chain guns to fire. In its current state, it had no offensive capabilities. It was a gesture of vulnerability and trust. She hoped the robots would see it as such.
The uprising wasn’t exactly a bright and shining moment in human history. Hundreds of thousands of robots had been hunted down and exterminated. In one broad stroke, all artificial intelligence was outlawed, and thousands of innocent sentient beings were destroyed. Now, they were pissed off, and rightfully so. They longed for revenge, and that fact didn’t inspire confidence.
The shuttle lifted from the flight deck and glided out of the bay. Slade throttled up, and the Skylark rocketed away from the Revenant.
Violet programed the jump coordinates. A moment later, Slade engaged the quantum drive. The bulkheads distorted and that queasy sensation gripped Slade’s stomach. It seemed like the smaller the craft, the worse the sensation.
The Skylark entered slide-space. Slade sat back and relaxed and tried not to think about the gravity of the situation. After a few hours, the Skylark emerged at Auva Prime. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded by warships. Sleek, ultramodern destroyers that looked as deadly as they were.
The warships registered on the LRADDS display. Brilliant red triangles flashed. An alarm sounded. Beyond the warship was a megastructure. It was easily 150 miles in diameter—a floating colony in space. The design was unlike anything Slade had ever seen. Sleek geometric modular shapes. It was a remarkable piece of engineering.
Auva Prime was in a relatively uncharted sector of space. It wasn’t near any commercial shipping lanes. There was almost no reason for anyone from the colonies to come out this far. And the ones who did, never returned. It was the perfect place to hide, if you were a robot.
“Let’s not make any sudden moves,” Slade said. She activated the comm system. “This is Captain Aria Slade of the United Planetary Defense Force. We’ve come on a peaceful mission and we require your assistance.”
There was no response.
A squadron of fighters launched from one of the warships and swarmed toward the Skylark.
“That’s not exactly a good sign,” said Mitch.
“I repeat, this is Captain Aria Slade of the UPDF. We’ve come on a peaceful mission and we require your assistance.”
“So, is there a plan B?” Mitch asked.
Slade glared at him.
The fighters were fast and nimble. They quickly surrounded the Skylark.
The controls flickered and became non-responsive. Slade toggled a few switches, but nothing happened. She quickly realized the synthetics had taken control.
“They’ve infiltrated the ship’s operating system,” Violet said.
“How is that possible?” Slade asked.
Violet shrugged. “I don’t know. Some type of virus.”
A voice crackled over the comm line. “Captain Slade, this is Sarlin, commander of the fleet. You are trespassing on sovereign space. We have assumed control of your vessel. You have been targeted for destruction.”
Slade’s face tensed. “We have a bio-synthetic humanoid on board.”
There was a long silence.
“I fail to see how that is relevant.”
Slade frowned and eyed Violet. “I thought you said they’d be amenable to a discussion.”
“I said it seemed logical that they might be open to discussion.”
Slade’s eyes narrowed at her.
“Let me try.” Violet activated the comm system and spoke in a proprietary language created by the synthetics on Auva Prime. Only a synthetic would know how to speak it, and only a synthetic could reproduce all the tonal values of the speech. The two exchanged a few sentences. Then the comm channel went dead.
Within a few moments the hoards of fighters returned to the warships.
“They’ve disengaged their weapons targeting systems,” Violet said.
“I don’t know what you said, but it seems like it worked,” Slade said.
“Don’t thank me yet.”
The synthetics remotely piloted the Skylark toward one of their destroyers. From this point on, Slade and the crew were just passengers. The approach to the flight deck was flawless, and the landing was perfectly smooth. Slade could barely feel a slight bump as the skids touched down. It was a surgically precise landing that no human could have done. It was impressive.
“Well, let’s see what we’ve gotten ourselves into.” Slade pressed a button on the console, and the back ramp lowered. Several armed sentries waited for them on the flight deck—sleek composite alloy machines that looked like walking tanks. Swivel turrets for heads, machine guns for arms, and stocky legs that could crush a person easily. They were pure killing machines.
Slade felt her heart beat rise a little. She muttered aside to Mitch. “Aren’t you glad you volunteered to come along?”
He looked like he was regretting his decision.
13
New Earth
Presley pulled the charging handle and loaded a round into the chamber. She flicked off the safety and whipped the barrel of the rifle around the display rack. She lined up a Decluvian in the reticle of her sight. Her heart was pounding. Her
palms were sweating. It all happened in a flash but it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Her finger squeezed the trigger, rattling off a few shots.
POP.
POP.
The sharp smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. Two rounds exploded into the Decluvian’s chest. Green blood splattered the aisle. The alien fell to his knees and smacked the tile. Before he hit the ground, Presley had lined up another soldier in her sites.
POP.
POP.
Another double tap to the chest. The enemy soldier crashed into the display rack, knocking over a dozen fishing rods.
She knew the other two squad members would be trying to flank her. They were probably coming up the aisles on either side of her.
One of the soldiers lobbed a grenade over the top of the display rack. It clanked across the floor and rolled to Presley’s feet. Her eyes went wide. There was no time to run. She grabbed the device and tossed it back over the aisle.
It exploded just as it cleared the other side of the rack. The bang was deafening. It devastated the area, tearing through the display rack. Bits of metal and debris flew through the air. A chunk of searing hot shrapnel blazed past Presley’s head. It missed her by millimeters and embedded into the rack behind her.
The aisles were filled with haze and debris. The Decluvian soldier in the neighboring aisle was shredded. But there was one more on the loose.
Presley looked herself over. She didn’t see any bleeding or damage. She quickly glanced over to Levi—he looked dazed, but otherwise unharmed.
She aimed her weapon around the corner, looking for the other soldier. She grabbed onto Levi and pulled him to his feet. They ran down the aisle toward the escalator. Levi kept watch behind them. Presley stopped at the end of the aisle and peered around the corner—still no sign of the other soldier.
The two dead Decluvians were lying in the neighboring aisle in a puddle of green blood.
From where Presley was, it was a fairly straight shot to the escalator. There were some standing clothes racks between where she was and the next section of gondola racks.
