Deeper and Darker (Deep Dark Well Book 3)

by Doug Dandridge

  “If you kill him, it will be suicide,” said Watcher. “There is a hundred gigaton device in the city, which is set to go off if his life functions cease. I must assume he is able to set it off by command as well, so he must not be allowed to leave the kill zone. Repeat, he must not be killed, and he must not be allowed to leave the kill zone. There are almost six hundred million people in that zone, and I will not allow the Confederacy to have that blood on its hands. Understood.”

  The acknowledgments came back, some reluctantly, but it seemed that everyone understood the gravity of the situation.

  “Has the prisoner told you where the device is?” asked Watcher of the Brigadier that had reported the existence of the bomb to him.

  “We have a general idea, my Lord,” said the General. “Somewhere near the central police building, most likely underground.”

  Pandi zeroed in on the building in question, a megascraper that was the headquarters of the police apparatus all across the Empire. And seemingly, with its own security, the perfect place to put such a device.

  “Get infantry there immediately,” ordered Watcher. “Secure the building and any areas underneath that you can locate. Then get as many engineers as you can in there, and search out the device.”

  “And what do we do when we find it, my Lord? Let the engineers have a go at disarming it.”

  “Not until I’ve had a chance to see a view of the device. From there I will issue orders. Understood?”

  “Yes, my Lord,” said the General. “We will do all that we can.”

  “Don’t try, Brigadier. Succeed. I won’t have all of these people killed by this bastard, just because he pulled off something I didn’t anticipate.”

  Watcher cut the link and linked back into the local tactical net, while Pandi continued to monitor the take from the Brigadier’s net. A shiver of fear passed through her, and she pushed that panicked feeling to the back of her mind. I should have died forty-three thousand years ago, she thought, composing herself. I will not let fear of dying now affect my actions.

  * * *

  His men walked into an ambush. They outnumbered the ambushers, who frankly seemed to expect to take them out without a problem. The Emperor’s stolen suit picked it up just before the enemy opened fire, and he signaled his men with the locations of all the Confederation commandos plotted.

  His men opened fire before the enemy, who were still waiting for more of the Imperial troops to walk into the kill zone. The power of the particle beam fire surprised the commandos, who weren’t expecting such. The men in the kill box were killed in the first exchange of fire, four of them, not the entire platoon that the commandos were expecting.

  Kitticaris moved up to the front and opened fire himself, not wanting to risk a long engagement that would tie his people down. He had an escape route, and he needed to get to it, now. Any other outcome would lead to his eventual capture, and that would lead to his death. Instead, he moved onto the flank of the ambush and opened up with particle beams that blasted holes through walls and the men covering behind them in microseconds, vaporizing half their body mass in one strike. As he moved down the other hall, he popped some grenades from his shoulder launcher at the men ahead, taking out the commandos who had tried to take him down, only to see their beams splash from his electromag field, the little bit that got through doing little more than heating some small areas of his tough armor. They’re not shooting to kill, he thought, noting that all the hits had been to his legs and arms, as if they were trying to immobilize him.

  “We’re through, your Majesty,” announced the officer leading his escort.

  “Hit the lift shaft and let’s get out of here,” said the Emperor, hurrying along to rejoin the body of his soldiers.

  The lift shaft he was talking about was open when he got there, a squad already floating down on suit grabbers to secure the secret chamber of the subbasement that the hidden drop led to. He followed, then moved quickly to the heavy door that closed off the escape route. It had a keypad, the Emperor not trusting complicated com controlled locks for this, his last card. He punched in the twelve digit code and the door slid open, revealing a well-lit tunnel that seemed to lead off into the forever.

  “Move out,” ordered the Emperor, and the first squad walked into the tunnel. Kitticaris moved into the tunnel, then waved the rest of the soldiers past. When all had entered, he pushed a button that closed the door, then reset the combination from that side. Let them get through that, he thought with a smile on his face. And by the time they do, I’ll be long gone.

  * * *

  Watcher looked down at the bodies of the men he had led into the palace. The great majority of them were Suryans, medium sized, brown skinned people with dark hair and eyes. There were some from other planets, other ethnic strains, and a few aliens. And they were dead, killed by the man he had come to capture. He and the men he led. Watcher didn’t know any of the men he was looking at. Some of them were so badly injured about the face, if they even had a head left after a strike by a particle beam, that he wouldn’t have recognized them if they had been lifelong friends. But even the ones with intact features were strangers to him, which did nothing to lessen the guilt.

  I should have done something different, thought the superman, shaking his head. Maybe I should have just evacuated the system of my people, then come back with overwhelming force. But I still wasn’t thinking right.

  Watcher realized now that he had been more brain damaged than he had thought when Pandi had rescued him. He had known there was some damage to his frontal lobes from when the Imperials had taken out his implants. As well as some minor damage to his occipital lobe. But the visual centers could compensate, better than his reasoning centers. And, like most people with damage, he had no idea how bad it had been. He still had enough capacity to act like a smarter than normal man, though nowhere near his ultimate capabilities. But now that the damage had been repaired by nanites, and his thinking was once again quick and clear for the first time since the surgery had been performed.

  Now he could see how his course of action was flawed. But we’ve already jumped into the fire, so I just have to finish this.

  “We’ve found their trail, my Lord,” said the Captain leading the company that had gathered around him, absorbing its daughter platoon once again.

  Watcher followed the Captain, Pandora joining up with him and moving by his side.

  “It leads down a shaft,” said the Captain, pointing to the opening that had been revealed when the panel had been broken down. “I’ve already sent down a squad, who have reported it clear at the bottom. And with a heavy door that must lead to some kind of passage he used for escape.”

  “We could just let him go,” said Pandi, grabbing his armored upper arm. “We’ve won here. This moon will be free, and he will have to flee.”

  “He’s still got most of an army out there,” said Watcher, shaking his head. “We’ve only engaged a small part of it, and with enough numbers they could overcome our tech advantage. Plus, he could blow up that warhead and take out this entire region, and us with it.”

  Watcher walked to the shaft and stepped in, his suit grabbers holding him up until he ordered it to move downward. He flew down the six levels of the shaft, realizing that he was actually going below the subbasement that his first company had entered through. The chamber he entered was medium sized, about twenty meters square, with a shining door set on one side. Using his HUDs mapping ability, he could see by the orientation of the door that whatever was behind it led off from the palace and under the mountainside it was built against. Something that we didn’t expect. And we have no way of knowing what’s back there.

  “I think I’m going to need your help with this, Pandora,” he said, pointing at the door. “The rest of you,” he said to the near platoon that was now gathered here, “turn your particle beam weapons to full, and fire at the door. On my command.”

  “We could get some engineers here with negative matter, my Lord,�
�� suggested the Captain. “Let them open the damned thing.”

  “And every second we waste increases the chance that he gets away. No,” said Watcher, particle beam rifle in his hands, twin lasers rising from his shoulders to point at the door. “We get through now. Fire.”

  Forty-three particle beam weapons opened fire at the same moment, and four powerful lasers that quickly became visible from the vapor that started to fill the room. The beams struck the door, making forty-seven glowing red spots that soon spread into one large one that encompassed most of the door. Red turned to deeper red, then to white, as the heat built up in the room to almost unbearable levels. One by one the particle beams died as they used up their proton stores, and commandos burned their hands putting new ones into already overheated rifles. Pandi’s ran out a moment later, but Watcher, linked into larger packs within his armor, kept up the fire. Soon the other beams joined in, and the white hot area of the door began to melt, molten metal pouring onto the floor and starting to stream toward a drain in the center of the chamber. A hole appeared in the door, showing through to the other side.

  “Grenadiers,” yelled Watcher over the roar of the beams. “Hit the door with penetrators.”

  The six men who held autogrenade launchers adjusted their weapons, then sent shape charge rounds into the door at the rate of ten a second each. It took less than two seconds for the door to disintegrate under the pounding.

  “Cease fire,” yelled Watcher, waving his left hand in the air.

  The hole through the door was large enough to allow a man of Watcher’s size, wearing his armor, to make it through, though the edges were still white hot.

  “I will take a moment to cool enough for us to go through, my Lord,” said the Captain.

  “Follow when you can, but I’m going through now.” Without another word Watcher raised his suit into the air and oriented it to the hole, shooting through in a horizontal position.

  “The hell with that,” he heard Pandi say into her com, then she was through the hole and right behind him.

  “You heard the lady,” said the Captain over the com. “Let’s go.”

  Watcher smiled as he heard the chatter of the soldiers moving through the hole. All made it through, even with some minor cursing about the heat. He moved his suit about forty meters into the tunnel, then pulled it around to come back onto his feet. He checked out the tunnel with all sensors before moving forward, all senses alert. After all, though he was in a hurry, he was not in a rush to walk into something that might get him killed.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Americans are so enamored of equality that they would rather be equal in slavery than unequal in freedom.

  Alexis de Tocqueville

  “This looks like what we were looking for,” said Captain Milish Drazdore, the Army Engineering Officer, over the com, transmitting a visual to his commanding officer.

  “I thought it was supposed to be well hidden,” said the Brigadier, looking at the three dimensional representation of the bomb that would ruin the day of everyone within tens of kilometers of it if it went off.

  “Oh, it was very well hidden,” said the Captain in charge of the company of combat engineers who had followed the infantry into the building. The infantry had cleared the building of all resistance with no trouble, their heavy suits and weapons giving them all the advantages over the lightly armed police troops that had been guarding the structure. The soldiers in the subbasement were better prepared. It still didn’t help them, much, and the engineers were able to operate with relative ease as they had searched the building. Relative being a relative term, as they were searching for a bomb that would vaporize them all if it went off.

  “It just wasn’t well enough hidden from our tech,” continued the Captain, looking on as some of his explosive demolition specialists scanned the bomb.

  “I’ve got bad news, sir,” said a Staff Sergeant, stopping and looking at the Captain. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to get into this thing without breaching the casing. And if I’m not mistaken, whoever set this thing will have thought of that. I think if we open it, we’ll set it off.”

  “And there’s no way we’re going to be able to move this thing out of here,” said the Captain, looking at the five meter long casing that had to weigh at least thirty tons. There were wires running into the casing, providing power to the device, its own internal energy supply the true backup. At least not by any conventional means. Someone needs to come up with something, and even though I’m in charge, I sure can’t think of any way. That Drazdore was a product of a lower tech base did not escape him. He had absorbed as much knowledge of the new tech as he could, in the time he had been given. But he was aware that he still was an infant in the use of old Imperial Tech that was over a thousand years more advanced than that of the Suryans whose kingdom he belonged to.

  “I think I have a solution, sir,” said the Sergeant, a smile on his face. “If we can get it here in time.”

  “And what would, it, be, Sergeant?” asked the Captain, looking at the younger man, realizing that his youth might give him a more flexible mind.

  “One of the probes, sir,” said the Sergeant, excitement in his tone. “And the wormhole it has aboard.”

  “What? What are you thinking?” asked Drazdore, possibilities already surfacing in his mind.

  As the Sergeant told him his thoughts, the Captain’s smile grew. They still had to get it here, and they might not have the time. But it was definitely better than the nothing that was their only other option.

  * * *

  Kitticaris frowned as he saw the door breached on his link. They’re coming on much faster than I expect, he thought, arming every defense system that stood between himself and the enemy. He glared at the image of Watcher, as if he was actually seeing the man with his physical eyes and not on the visual centers of his occipital lobes. He could recognize that the man was sheathed in an advanced suit of combat armor. A very heavy suit, that he was sure was much more capable than his own. And the woman coming along behind him was most probably at least his equal, wearing her own suit of armor.

  The lasers that opened up on them proved his fears were well founded, as the beams bounced from the strong electromag fields of the pair, at least long enough to allow them to take out the hidden weapons.

  How in the hell did this happen? thought the Emperor, moving through the last doorway before the chamber he had prepared for his escape, an escape he had never really thought would be necessary. A couple of days ago everything was going so well, all of my plans were coming to fruition. My Empire was the strongest in this space, we were expanding, and I had the propaganda coup of the ages in my hands.

  But he had to have taken that being captive, or at least ordered such, without ordering that all witnesses to the event be eliminated. And the witnesses had come to his rescue. I should have waited until I had expanded even more, he thought, then dismissed that thought. In a century he could have quintupled the size of his Empire, and increased the size of his fleet by a factor of ten. And still faced an enemy much more advanced than his, who had also expanded. Without that station, this is all just wasted effort.

  The door closed behind him, and he looked over the large room that was really more hangar than anything else, filled with gunships and transports, more than he really needed.

  “Everyone on board,” he called out, waiting for his men to man the vehicles, six gunships and six transports. He boarded the last transport, sending the dispositions he wanted to the other craft.

  “We’re ready, my Lord,” called out the Captain of his security force, sitting in the cabin on the transport, piloting the craft.

  Kitticaris nodded as he slid into the copilot’s chair. “Take us out. We’ll head for my mountain HQ.” And let them try to find me, while they battle the fleet that keeps sending units into this system, he thought. And if they find me, let them try and root me out.

  The doors to the hangar started to open, both the
heavy inner pair and the camouflaged outer. The first two gunships lifted from the floor and started out, their weapon pods swiveling as their gunners looked every direction. The door gunners on his transport were gripping their particle beams in tight grips, while the Emperor himself manned the forward mounted guns and her missile pods.

  We’ve made it, he thought, watching as the two gunships made it out into the air, then cringing in shock as both went up in balls of fire, falling immediately down the side of the mountain. Two of the troop transports died in the same manner, their fall only lasting till they could hit the floor within the space between the doors. Two more gunships rocketed out to try and deal with whatever was waiting outside. Brave but foolish, as what was waiting out there was much more advanced than they were.

  “Back us up,” he yelled to the pilot, gripping the weapon’s control as if he could really do anything to change the situation. Missiles, or something equally powerful, hit the mountain above the door, starting a rock fall that partially filled the entrance, and trapped the remaining four transports and two gunships inside.

  I should have continued down under the mountain, thought the Emperor, staring at the partially blocked entrance. I should have gone down the secondary tunnel and taken off on foot, he thought, realizing that his arrogance had doomed him. He had wanted to ride, and now he would pay for it.

  Something flew past the transport, to hit the far wall beside the entry, and it took a second to recognize it as the door to the tunnel they had used to come down from the palace. Following its clanging strike another of the gunships exploded.

  “Down those ships and come out,” yelled a loud voice that was amplified by suit speakers. “Weapons on the ground.”

  Kitticaris recognized that voice, and connected with his last gunship. “Get that son of a bitch.”

  The last gunship spun around, taking several particle beam strikes before it was able to swivel its own guns onto the target. “No,” yelled out another voice as the gunship fired a particle beam that was much more powerful than any handheld or suit born weapon. Two more beams struck the gunship, blasting through the canopy and half vaporizing the gunner/pilot.