by M. R. Forbes
"It's different, that's for sure. I can't imagine a world without children, without intimacy, where intelligent beings are so easy to make that most of them are expendable."
"Agreed. Have you been able to get her to tell you anything she hasn't told Montoya?"
"Not yet. I'm still trying to win her over. She loves spending time in the nursery, so I think that's helping. She needs to give us the information willingly, without feeling like I'm attempting to trick her. Anyway, I don't know if she knows any more than what she's said. Her role with the bek'hai was to study us."
"She may not, but like I told you earlier, if genetics play any role in who a person is then getting her on our side can be one of the most important things we do."
"I'm still not sure how," Donovan said.
"Neither am I. Maybe it's because I held Juliet St. Martin in such high esteem. I don't know. It's a gut call."
"One that I don't disagree with, sir."
"Are you still planning to take your team off-base tomorrow?"
"Yes, sir. We all need to stay sharp somewhere that isn't as safe as down here."
"What about your shoulder?"
Donovan lifted it over his head, ignoring the twinge of pain as he did. He couldn't afford to let Rodriguez know it wasn't healed yet. "Almost as good as new, sir."
The General smiled. "Good. Dismissed, Major."
"Yes, sir."
SIXTY-TWO
"Captain Gabriel St. Martin mission recording sixty-nine," Gabriel said, starting the in-flight recorder. "Time to Earth, nine hours and thirty-four minutes. Engines online. Weapons systems deactivated. All other systems nominal."
He had been firing reverse thrusters for the last ten minutes, slowing the starfighter down to a more acceptable speed. He was close enough now that he could see the orbital defense ring up ahead as a solid line of black that seemed to split the planet in half.
He tapped the control pad until he found the new menu item that had been tacked on. It was nothing but a simple toggle to activate and deliver the transmission his father had recorded earlier. It was also the most important button on the pad.
His pulse had calmed during the journey from the Magellan, and it remained calm as he grew ever closer to the Earth. He was in his element now. He had done this so many times before. True, entering atmosphere would be a new experience, but it didn't change who he was or what he knew, or how much he had experienced. His fears and doubts vanished as he traveled further and further from the starship and his father. Sometimes he wanted so much to make Theodore proud that his reputation became more hindrance than help.
"I'm beginning my run," he said, using the second stick to fire the planar vectoring thrusters and put the ship into a wobbly spin. He needed more than ever to conserve his energy, and making an effort to confuse the defense system before he reached it was one way to do it.
The spheres began to activate as he approached, short bursts of thrust turning them as they extended their weaponry. Gabriel kept his eyes focused on them, ignoring the way the universe was spinning around him.
They started to fire, their blasts of plasma arcing out toward the fighter. Gabriel kept his rotation, turning the stick in tight, precise motions to bring himself out of harm's way. He found an opening in the pattern and swung toward it, bright flashes of energy all around him.
The ring seemed tighter to him than the last time, and it began to close as he maneuvered towards the space. He couldn't spare the energy to go back and make another approach, and if he tried to run horizontal he would be blown to pieces. There was no other choice than to try to go through.
He gritted his teeth, the satellites so close to his ship that he could see the way the plasma formed at the tip of the cannon before firing, so close that each shot nearly blinded him. Somehow he got the starfighter through it, angling the wings and changing his direction just enough to keep himself alive. There was no thought behind it. No planning. It was all instinct and muscle memory.
It was what separated the good pilots from the rest.
Then he was in, past the orbital defense and racing toward the atmosphere. He tapped his control pad, adding a new layer to his HUD to help guide him to the correct angle to spear his way through. A line appeared on either side, moving toward the center as he adjusted. He checked his power supply. Getting in wouldn't use nearly as much as going back out.
The front of the fighter lit up as he sank deeper toward the surface, the heat pouring from the surface. Within seconds he was through, dipping toward the ground. The fighter shook and jostled as it cut through the air. It was similar to joining the slipstream, but felt less controlled, and Gabriel fought to maintain his focus and his nerve. He released the vector control stick, it wouldn't do him much good here, and put both hands on the main.
The alien structure looked so different closer in, and he felt his breath catch at the sight of it. It may have looked large from space. From within the atmosphere it was massive, stretching for miles and seeming to overtake the entire planet. The spires cut high into the air below him, and he could see motion along the black, armored surface.
He jumped in his seat when the first plasma bolt passed next to the fighter He cut the stick hard, feeling the fighter shake more, the airframe working to meet his command. Inertial dampeners kept him from being rocked unconscious by the move, and he cursed himself for being stupid. He flicked the stick in more controlled motions, sweeping side to side as he continued the descent. He could see the world beyond the Dread approaching, brown and green in the distance.
"I'm inside the atmosphere, heading toward North America."
They knew the transmissions generated from somewhere around Mexico, though not exactly where. He tapped the controls to return to the toggle. He was almost in position.
A warning tone sounded in the cockpit as a pair of Dread fighters rose from behind him. He dropped the fighter, sending it straight down toward the enemy city, going into a slight spin as the plasma cut the sky around him. He needed cover, and it was the only cover he was going to get.
A massive machine appeared ahead and to his right, a squat torso on huge legs, with some kind of weapons hanging on either side. It rotated to face him, raising the guns and firing. Red blobs rocketed up at him, and he rolled and dove a little more, getting under them before coming up straight and breaking the descent. He angled to the left, barely skirting around a tall spire before moving back to the right. The Bats were still behind him, struggling to maneuver as well as he could. He recognized he had the advantage, locating a narrow channel in the structure and diving down toward it. A second mechanized ground unit appeared near the top of the channel, unable to angle its weapons in time to fire on him.
Gabriel raced through the channel, his heart beating calmly, nothing but ice in his veins. Fear was foreplay. Now there was only determination.
The channel ended at another spire, and Gabriel pulled back hard on his stick while increasing thrust, launching vertically out of the channel and climbing the side of the structure. The fights had held back to wait for him, and they didn't dare fire without the risk of hitting their own structure. Now that Gabriel knew the weapons would damage it, he felt safe to use it as a shield.
He rolled his starfighter again, finding his direction and adding more thrust. He wouldn't get as wide of a spread coming in low, but he didn't have a choice. He cleared the edge of the Dread city, shooting over a former human city that had been reduced to brown earth and a mixture of partially standing buildings, rusted steel, and rubble. He hit the toggle on the control pad, transmitting the message downward. The enemy fighters had lost some ground, but they were still behind him.
"Transmitting," he said. "I pray to God that someone hears it."
SIXTY-THREE
Donovan's eyes passed over the five men and women who had volunteered to join him on the t-vault. Diaz, Montero, Cameron, Sanchez, and Wade. They were standing at attention beneath the cover of a hollowed-out building, dressed in
greens and barefoot. Two buckets of water and a third of orange clay sat on the ground beside them.
"First, I want to thank you all for volunteering for this mission. Your support of what we're trying to do is a testament to your courage and your faith."
"Thank you, sir," all five replied. They kept their voices low, not wanting to be discovered by a passing enemy drone.
The area around the base had been warmer since Reyes had fired his rifle. The mechanized armor on the scene had been replaced by clone patrols, and then with drones. Only the scouts had gone in or out for the last four days, and even then it was to quickly monitor the situation and get back inside.
Donovan was thankful for the opportunity to bring his team outside. Scanning the soldiers, he could tell that only Diaz wasn't nervous to be too far from home to escape should they be sighted.
Getting used to that fear was one of the most valuable experiences he could give them.
"Lieutenant Diaz, prepare the squad."
"Yes, sir," Diaz said, breaking rank and going over to the water.
She lifted the bucket with one hand, grabbing an attached spray nozzle in the other. She proceeded to douse each of the soldiers with it, soaking their shirts and pants. Once that was one, she retrieved the bucket of clay. "Cover yourself as much as possible. Clothes, too. The clay will dampen your heat signature. Help each other in the places you can't reach."
"Yes, ma'am," they said, approaching the bucket.
Donovan watched and waited while they coated themselves and one another. Diaz brought him the bucket once they were done.
"Would you like some help with that, sir?" she asked playfully.
"I've got it," he replied, smiling. "Thanks."
"Yes, sir."
Donovan grabbed the clay, quickly spreading it over his body. Then he headed for the open air.
The others followed him, quickly moving into a standard wedge formation. Only Wade lagged behind, his slowness immediately drawing Diaz's attention.
"Wade," she hissed. "This isn't a walk in the park. If you dawdle, you die."
"Yes, ma'am."
Donovan scanned the street. They were a good kilometer away from the base, closer to the edge of the city so that if they were caught the Dread might think they were hiding in the mountains. He watched the sky for signs of scouts. He didn't see any.
"Okay, people," he said. "We're going to cross to that rubble over there, as fast as we can. Stay in formation, eyes up and alert. Diaz, you're on point as the spotter. If she sees anything, her hand will go up like this. You see the hand, you find cover, and you stay there until she opens her fist to signal the all clear. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they replied.
"What if they see us?" Wade asked.
"Rendezvous point is two klicks north. We split up, try to lose them, and meet back there when it's clear. We wait two hours for survivors. If you aren't there in that time, you're probably dead."
"But not always, sir," Montero said. "You weren't."
"We were lucky once. I doubt that will happen again."
"Yes, sir."
"Diaz, on your mark."
Diaz moved up ahead of him, and he replaced her position in the wedge. As the fastest runner, she could afford to watch the sky while she sprinted.
"Okay, let's-"
They all froze, as a heavy clap echoed across the sky, followed quickly by a second.
"What the hell was that?" Diaz said.
"I don't know," Donovan replied. "Can you see anything."
Diaz lifted her head, looking up, turning in a circle as she did. "I don't. Wait. Major, you have to see this."
Donovan joined Diaz, following her finger as she pointed.
"What is that?" she asked.
A dark speck was falling from the sky in a hurry, trailing vapor. It looked like it was out over the Dread city.
"Maybe one of their satellites malfunctioned and lost orbit," he said.
"And is coincidentally falling right on top of their heads?"
"You never know." He watched the speck continue to tumble, and then straighten out and move horizontally. "Okay, not a satellite."
"It's a ship. It has to be."
"A Dread fighter? Why would it be out there? They don't launch them unless they pick up one of ours."
The speck was getting slightly larger, moving in their general direction. Two more joined it a moment later, rocketing upward from the Dread city.
"I don't think that's a Dread ship," Diaz said.
"The run isn't for another twelve days," Donovan replied, his pulse quickening nervously. "If it's the space force, they're way too early."
"Why would they be coming in this low?"
Thin bolts of plasma began to pierce the sky around the black spot, which turned and jiggled to avoid them.
"Definitely not theirs," Donovan said. He noticed the others had moved into position to watch as well.
"If he's one of ours, he's damn good at avoiding them," Montero said.
The three dots continued to descend until they vanished behind their line of sight.
"I wonder what he's doing here?" Diaz said. "There has to be a reason for it."
"I don't know," Donovan said. "We need to get back to base and inform General Rodriguez. Come on."
Donovan sprinted away from the building, heading back the way they had come. He had only reached the end of the first street when he felt the first vibration. He recognized it immediately and threw up his fist before pressing himself against the closest standing wall.
The vibrations intensified in a hurry, coming one after another in rapid succession. Donovan slid along the wall, reaching the end, and then peered around it. He could see down the long main thoroughfare, and while it was littered with debris, the mech was easily large enough for him to spot.
His pulse moved to triple-time, and he made sure to keep his arm up, fist closed. They were still encased in clay. They were still damp. They would be safe as long as they were quiet and remained hidden.
He watched it approach with a measure of awe. He had never had a chance to observe one before. He was impressed with the size and how easily it seemed to move with its near-humanoid shape. It pushed some of the rubble and old cars out of the way as it moved ever closer to him.
Had it seen him? He didn't think so. It would have blown him to ash already if it had. What was it doing?
It stopped halfway to him, the upper half turning, the arms lifting toward the sky and began firing projectiles. Donovan heard the soft whine a moment later, his mouth falling open in wonder as the starfighter rocketed past, barely a hundred meters overhead and angled on its side. He saw the pilot for the briefest of instants before he was past, somehow avoiding the enemy fire and continuing beyond the city.
The mech turned to follow the fighter, and so did Donovan, losing it behind the building before finding it again, headed along the slope and up the mountain. Two heartbeats later a pair of Dread fighters screamed overhead in pursuit.
"Come on, buddy," he said, shaking from the excitement. "You can do it."
The fighter shrank into the distance. The mech started to move, heading back the way it had come and giving up its part in the battle. The two Dread fighters took over for it, resuming their plasma attack.
Once more, the pilot managed to avoid the fire. Then it dipped suddenly, heading for the trees, so low he was amazed it hadn't crashed into them already. The Dread angled down, so intent on hitting him they weren't paying attention to the altitude.
The fighter shifted vectors and streaked up, barely whipping around the side of the mountain and disappearing beyond. The enemy ships weren't as fortunate, and he could hear the echo as they crashed into the woods.
"Yes," he whispered, holding himself back from screaming and remembering to keep his fist up.
He stayed that way for thirty seconds, waiting for things to calm down. There was no smoke coming from the area where the Dread had crashed, just a swath of downed trees
. The armor would have protected them from damage, but could they get airborne again from that position? He didn't know.
He looked around, finding Diaz to his left next to a car, with Wade right beside her. He opened his hand. Montero, Cameron, and Sanchez appeared from their cover, and they ran to form up on him again.
"Dios Mio, did you see that, amigo?" Diaz asked excitedly.
"Shh," Donovan replied. "Take us back to base. Silent until then."
She nodded, moving to point and bringing them home.
SIXTY-FOUR
"Major. You're back," Sergeant Wilcox said. "We could feel the rumbling over the base and thought you might have been spotted. General Rodriguez was worried about you."
"We're fine," Donovan said. They were standing at the entrance to the corridor between the silo and the control center. Wilcox had been posted there to guard the door and open it upon their arrival. "Where is the General?"
"He was meeting with Carlson again. What happened out there?"
"I'm sure you'll hear about it. I need to speak to Rodriguez."
Wilcox nodded and moved aside, allowing them to file in. Donovan and the rest of the t-vault team ran through the connecting corridor while the Sergeant closed the door behind them.
They reached the base, and Donovan headed for the stairs down to the lab. He was standing in the doorway leading to them when he heard a shout behind him.
"Donovan, wait," Matteo said. The entire squad turned as one, watching Matteo pull to a stop in front of them, his breathing heavy.
"What's going on"? Diaz asked.
"Do you know where General Rodriguez is?"
"Science lab," Donovan said. "I was headed down there now."
"Tell him to come up to the comm room right away."
"Why?"
"Just tell him, amigo. It's important."
"I will. The rest of you wait here," Donovan said. "Don't say anything to anyone about this until the General says it's okay."
"Yes, sir."
Donovan continued down the steps, hurrying to the lab. He found General Rodriguez on his way out.
