Dawn of the Mad

by Brandon Huckabay

  “What exactly are we after?” Cruwell interjected.

  “I do not know, exactly. All I know is that it is a weapon of some sort. The intelligence stops there. Many previous missions have sought so-called ‘secret weapons.’ They all either failed to reach their targets or turned up nothing.” The colonel sighed heavily, “I suspect concentrated resistance there. Captain, make sure you achieve your objective.”

  The colonel brought up one more image of Level Three of the complex. The image contained only one large room, with a tunnel that branched off from it, but the image was cut off. “This level is incomplete. I believe it to be a storage facility or a hangar.”

  “Is three platoons too much if we are to achieve surprise and remain undetected?” Cruwell asked.

  “We are going in with around 40 troopers, the same ones you inspected at formation earlier. These platoons are smaller than usual, but we must be ready if we are opposed by a security force.”

  “Is there any intelligence of the resistance to be expected?” Cruwell took another small sip of his drink and this time tolerated it, albeit not much better.

  “Stealth satellite imagery has detected very little surface activity on the desert planet, a few small primitive settlements, not much else. However, this plateau the facility is on throws the scanners off the charts. This forest surrounding the facility is teeming with life.”

  “What do you mean?” Cruwell asked, slightly confused.

  “The latest intelligence reports say that this is mainly a genetic research laboratory. Detailed surface scans show strange and aggressive wildlife and plant life all over the place.” The colonel walked back over to the data terminal and pushed a single key on the keyboard, shutting off the map image. He set his empty glass on the table and picked up a manila envelope, the words “Top Secret - Eyes Only” were stamped in large red letters across the top.

  “I received these photographs earlier today.” The colonel pulled out a series of hi-resolution photographs and spread them on the table. The photographs showed strange multi-colored plants, some with an almost flesh like quality as if they more beast than plant. Parts of the facility seemed derelict as vegetation grew over the building and ground alike. An earthmover lay immobilized by thick vines wrapped around its massive tires. One of the images showed a blurry glimpse of a creature standing upright on two legs, its body covered in orange and black fur, yet the arms and head were almost human. Lastly, Cruwell picked up another image, this one showing a long winding rocky trail leading up the plateau from the desert.

  “There is only one way in from the planet’s surface. Perhaps the inhabitants couldn’t get out fast enough. There is no telling what else they have in that forest of theirs,” Cruwell said.

  “Precisely why this mission will be unlike anything you or I have ever been on. For all we know, this laboratory has indeed been abandoned.” The colonel paused to refill his glass to two fingers and quickly slammed back the contents. He winced slightly from the alcohol burning the back of his throat. He held the empty glass, slowly rotating it with his fingers. “Admiral Raus will get us there and remain on standby in orbit in case we are attacked from space. Fringe space is unpredictable—Raus may run into pirates. Our Dreadnaught warship, with no escort, will be a tempting target. Most of his battle group is still stationed around Elohim Prime. He wants this to be a smash and grab, and he will not risk prolonged exposure in orbit, given that our fleet is not the size it used to be. He will stay in orbit only while the situation is favorable to him. Therefore, we must make haste and retreat off the planet as soon as possible. Otherwise, we will have to rely on the experimental pulse drives retrofitted on the drop pod—something I would rather not do.” He paused, his face beginning flush, and met Captain Cruwell’s eyes. “Do you have any questions?” The colonel set his glass on the table and promptly refilled it.

  “No, not at this time.” The captain put down his empty glass as well. He stood up and immediately felt light-headed. He had to grasp the back of the chair to keep his balance.

  “Good. Be ready tomorrow to begin training. We will emphasize close quarters combat. Each trooper will be issued a sufficient allotment of grenades and ammunition for live fire exercise.”

  The captain saluted and exited the colonel’s quarters slightly dizzy from the drink. A sharp pain began to shoot through the left side of his head.

  CHAPTER 4

  Long tendrils of clouds snaked their way for miles across the azure sky. A large, brilliant sun radiated high in the sky over the desert planet. A single tear-shaped drop ship rested on the surface in a charred landing crater it had created in the dense vegetation surrounding the laboratory complex. The lone ship spilled its complement of assault troopers from a massive ramp that had dropped to the ground.

  Sergeant Matthias’s platoon took point and advanced seventy-five yards, tactically approaching the blast doors of the complex. The twelve troopers took up cover behind equipment crates and thick concrete walls jutting out from the complex. Two troopers carefully placed shaped charges on the blast doors and quickly retreated back into cover.

  “All set here, Colonel,” Matthias said via the tactical net. “No activity; this place is as quiet as a tomb.”

  Colonel Chuikova and Captain Cruwell walked down the ramp of the drop pod. The last platoon to exit had secured the perimeter around the landing zone. The second platoon had leapfrogged ahead, taking up a concealed position between the LZ and Matthias’s platoon at the entrance of the complex.

  The colonel raised the visor on his helmet to the smell of stale, damp air. What he thought from the intelligence reports was a forest actually was a dense jungle. Vines, trees, and oddly shaped flora seemed to react to his troopers’ presence. A low, soft hissing seemed to emanate from all over. Even though the colonel had advanced only twenty-five yards or so, he could only make out the complex through a slight gap in the vegetation. From his vantage point, the complex was overgrown and appeared to have been disused for quite some time.

  “Copy that, Sergeant. Prepare your element for entry on my order. 2nd and 3rd platoon are moving into position now.”

  “Understood,” Matthias replied. He unslung his slug thrower and racked a shell into the chamber.

  Inside the cramped control room of the complex, a smartly dressed officer watched a single computer monitor intently as a technician busily inputted commands via a keyboard. The officer showed the marks of battle experience; a large scar ran down the left side of his face, and he wore a black patch over his left eye.

  “Zoom in on the main doors,” he said as the technician quickly brought a live feed image up on the monitor. At least twenty or more heavily armed troopers were taking up assault positions behind whatever cover they could find. “Patch into the satellite. I want to see their landing area.” The technician quickly turned on an overhead video monitor hanging from the ceiling, and within minutes the officer had a bird’s eye view of the plateau.

  “Appears to be a single drop pod transport, sir,” the technician said.

  “Switch to thermal scan. I want to see how many we are up against.”

  Nodding, the technician typed commands on the keyboard, and the view quickly changed. The enemy troopers now showed up as distinct orange and red shapes. Numerous other heat signatures were visible, although they seemed to be maintaining some distance from the LZ.

  The officer sighed heavily and stared at the floor. “I suppose it was only a matter of time until we were spotted. Inform Dr. Keitel that we must prep for evacuation immediately and place the facility on maximum alert. Seal the door to the genetics wing.”

  As the invading assault force emptied from its drop pod on the surface, an inhuman scream pierced the air in the main genetics laboratory. Three technicians in white lab coats assisted a naked humanoid form in climbing out of a large holding tank filled with a murky green liquid. When the humanoid had reached the floor and stood beside the tank, one of the technicians administered a series of
injections into its right shoulder. Numerous electrodes and their wires attached the pale white body to a group of monitors, each recording and displaying vital signs.

  An elderly white-coated scientist turned to his much younger assistant, who was busy sabotaging one of the laboratory’s many computer systems with a sledgehammer. “A sight to behold, is it not?”

  “It is,” the assistant growled back, “but not a pleasant sight. We will not be able to control this monstrosity. We need more time. Why don’t we just destroy this specimen and evacuate, and try to save as much research as possible instead of destroying it. We can start over at a more secure location, perhaps one closer to the home planet. It was madness leaving us out here.” The assistant resumed his destructive work, sending sparks showering in the air.

  “No,” the elderly scientist replied. “This research could turn the tide of the war. I have been subjected to the unfortunate uncertainties of science for too long now. Finally, I have something that works. He will not be terminated. He is all the research we need. Think about the possibilities we have engineered.” The scientist’s voice rose in pitch with each sentence. “We can create a resurrected army of the dead to destroy everything in its path. They can sustain damage that would kill ordinary troopers, orders will be followed without hesitation, and there is an almost endless supply of dead in this war. Just think if we could administer the program on the front. We could instantly raise an army double the size of what we started with by using our dead, their dead, it doesn’t matter.” The elderly scientist strode purposefully to a locked refrigeration unit against the wall. He entered a numeric pass code, pulled on the handle and opened the door. He withdrew a vial filled with a pinkish liquid and turned it side to side, staring at it intently.

  “This is the key,” he stated. “This solution will change the tide of the war and bring victory to our side.” He placed the vial back onto a shelf in the refrigeration unit and closed the door. “Can you imagine life without war, and the end of disease? We’re on the cusp of performing miracles!”

  The assistant leaned on the edge of an examination table and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “That solution wasn’t even engineered by us. Its secrets were revealed by enemy agents pulling some sort of double cross. Yes, I concur that our results are incredible, but we cannot control or influence the solution. You know as well as I do that it has been resistant to our attempts. And as for disease, we have never attempted to utilize the solution as a cure for anything. It serves one dark purpose, the resurrection of the dead. Don’t you know what that means?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Don’t lecture me! With the proper methods, we can control what we have created, mark my words. We just need more time.” The elderly scientist thought back to six months ago, when he was approached by a strange man who offered the missing link to his genetic research. He at first dismissed it, but changed his mind as he performed preliminary tests on his own. The solution was unlike anything he had ever seen before. As he experimented, without government knowledge, with his newfound solution, thoughts of treason often ran through his mind. He believed that his research could have a profound impact, but he did not yet want to share his results. He wanted to be the one performing the miracles that the solution promised.

  The mysterious man had given him one vial, with simple instructions on how to synthesize more for his research. He was unable to identify the compounds contained in the solution, but after almost six months of trial and error and many failed attempts, he finally made the solution work. The delay was in the application. Once applied to dead tissue, the solution revealed its true purpose. The research and experimentation had progressed quickly from there, to the recent experiments with revitalizing the dead. Of course there were setbacks. The adjacent testing room was full of them, volunteers who gave their lives in the name of science. His primary concern now was prolonging the revitalizing effect. It was far from permanent, with the host requiring periodic injections to continue to function. Replacing some of the organs with synthetic ones seemed to prolong the effects.

  He felt close to a final breakthrough, but now he faced the attack on the genetics lab. The mysterious man had told him to expect an assault on the lab, but he had put it out of his mind. Now, facing the reality of the predicted attack, he recalled that the man told him he would leave for a destination he did not know, and it was there he could find the answers he was seeking.

  Suddenly, the officer in charge of security’s voice blared on the loudspeaker drowning out all the activity in the laboratory. The voice said in a monotonous tone, “We are under attack; enemy forces have breached the main doors. All non-security personnel must evacuate.” The loudspeaker fell silent, and lights flickered as the power was interrupted. The technicians stared at the loudspeaker box on the wall. “Main power lines will be shut down in five minutes,” the voice blared again.

  “Why don’t you contact the home planet?” the young assistant asked. “Couldn’t they send a relief force?” The attack had rattled him, and he could focus only on the current threat to the facility, not the long-term effects on the research.

  “There’s no time!” the elderly scientist yelled in response. “We must evacuate now!”

  Once the power was offline, the corridor was plunged into darkness. The blast door began to close on its own accord, and trapped a few technicians in the genetics lab. Their cries and pounding on the door died off as Dr. Keitel activated a small hand torch illuminating two technicians leading a naked humanoid covered by a blanket into a transport cart waiting in the corridor. They helped the humanoid climb into the transport cart, with Dr. Keitel getting in next to it. The cart proceeded down the corridor, which was now carved out of the earth instead of metal.

  “You may commence your assault now, Sergeant.” Colonel Chuikova said via the tactical net.

  A thunderous explosion ripped the blast doors apart. Black smoke began to pour out. Sergeant Matthias led his platoon through the breach. The long, narrow corridor continued downward for about fifty meters until another set of blast doors blocked the way. There was currently no power, the troopers relying on their night vision to show the way. Matthias dropped to one knee and held up his arm, his hand balled into a fist, indicating to his troopers to hold position. The following troopers each took a knee and awaited further orders.

  “Colonel, we have another set of doors here,” Matthias said into his helmet mike. “We need cutting equipment. It’s too narrow to blast.”

  “Copy, it’s on the way. 2nd platoon is moving up for support once you get inside. If the map is correct, you should reach the main medical wing on the other side.”

  “Get that cutting torch over here!” Sergeant Matthias yelled into his helmet mike. 2nd platoon formed up behind Matthias’s platoon, lining both walls of the corridor, and the mass of troops crowded the space. At the end of the line, a two-man heavy weapons crew placed a portable plasma cannon, mounted on a tri-pod, on the metal floor. A lone trooper weighted down with a large cylindrical tank on his back ran up to the massive blast doors from outside the bunker. He quickly unholstered his torch and activated it with the push of a button. A long blue superhot flame shot out, and the trooper set to work, sending red and orange sparks showering along the blast door.

  “No frag grenades; stun only!” Sergeant Matthias shouted. “Stay to the sides and don’t bunch up!” he ordered when he saw that the door was nearly cut. His men were ready for action. They were focused and alert for what awaited them on the other side.

  Within moments, the torch-bearing trooper moved to the rear. The lead troopers kicked in the weakened sectioned of the blast doors and threw in two stun grenades, just in case the enemy had a trap waiting for them on the other side. After the grenades detonated, the troopers stormed into the breach, expecting their first glimpse of the base defenders. Instead, as the troopers moved up in threes as their training had taught them, they encountered no enemy contact.

  Matthias was close to th
e front of his troops. Through his night vision, he could see that the corridor opened up into a large circular control room of sorts. The middle of the room held a large semi-circular control console. Chairs were kicked over as if someone had made a hasty departure. Beyond the control console, Matthias could see the outline of another blast door. His troopers quickly cleared the room.

  “No one here, sir,” a young corporal reported to Matthias. “Room is secure. The blast door on the other side is sealed.”

  Matthias nodded in response. He transmitted via the tactical net, “Colonel, we are still negative. We are going to have to cut another blast door.” Matthias thought for a moment as his gaze saw dozens of conduit pipes snaking overhead on the ceiling. A few of them ran into a console station in the middle of the room. “Hold on a sec. We have a computer console here. It may be able to restore power. I can give Corporal Scotts a crack at it.”

  “Hold position, Sergeant. I want that computer analyzed first before we keep going. I’d prefer to not keep announcing our presence with every corridor we enter.”

  “Power is online, sergeant,” Scotts said. “I don’t know how long it will last. I re-routed power from auxiliary lines into the main grid.” Scotts rechecked the power cables he was adjusting and closed the wall access panel. Another trooper had opened another access panel in the back of the computer console and was trying to splice into the powered lines.