by Richard Fox
“Guns, open fire on the leviathan. Concentrate on the exposed core. Griffin, your systems—”
“I pushed it too hard! Overloaded the heat sinks to kill that damn thing,” Laskaris said, his video full of static. “I’ve got cascading failure across all my batteries and the crystals will explode no matter what I do. Tell Lafayette to double the buffering—”
His image cut out as a final volley came from his ship. The energy bolts gouged deep inside the leviathan, knocking free lumps of crystal the size of skyscrapers. The crystals atop the Griffin exploded, ripping the cruiser apart.
The rear of the leviathan rose up. Blisters opened across the surface, burning white hot. The damage spread, covering the entire ship until it cracked apart, leaking an expanding field of smoldering remains that burned away to nothing.
“The remaining drones are retreating,” Calum said. “We did it, ma’am.”
“Did what?” Makarov snapped. “Abaddon is still on course for Earth. The rings are intact. Nothing has changed but the loss of good ships, good crew. Begin search and rescue efforts. I want detailed damage reports from every ship in the next thirty minutes.”
She turned away from the holo table and went back to her ready room.
CHAPTER 11
Torni’s boot sank ankle-deep into mud. She shifted Cortaro’s weight against her shoulders and slogged forward. The swamp on Anthalas simmered beneath the planet’s blazing star, making each breath a fight against hot, wet air.
Orozco followed behind Torni, Yarrow slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Torni and Minder watched the memory play out, their feet passing through the mud without effect.
“Are we the ghosts, or are they?” Torni nodded her head to her squad trudging through the muck.
“I will not discuss your primitive superstitions,” Minder said.
“My body is dead, yet here I am. My spirit continues,” she said.
“Do not color your situation with religion. We scanned your cranium, recorded a perfect copy of every synapse, neuron and cell, then recreated your mind. Child’s play.” Minder wiggled his fingers and the haze around them vanished.
“Why are we here, Minder?”
“You were not the decision maker during this event, but you might explane what happened. The humans Cortaro and Yarrow were injured. The Toth were in pursuit and the drone garrison was aware of your presence. Your extraction from the planet waited several miles away from this location. Why didn’t Hale abandon the casualties?”
“Esprit de corps. We do not leave Marines on the battlefield,” Torni said.
“They left you behind. Are you worth less because you are female?”
Torni went to Cortaro. The gunnery sergeant’s left leg was nothing but a mess of torn flesh below the knee, blown away by Steuben. A tourniquet tied just below the knee kept him from bleeding to death. A Toth warrior had impaled the Marine’s leg with a claw. Steuben’s quick thinking had certainly saved the Marine’s life, a fact Cortaro would only grudgingly admit.
“Marines don’t care if those they serve with are men or women, only that they can do the job. I inherited good Scandinavian genes that made me taller, gave me an advantage during Strike Marine selection.” Torni looked to the short and squat Bailey struggling through the mud. “That one is Australian. They’re bred tough and mean.”
“Why did they leave you behind on Takeni? On this planet, Hale endangered the entire team for a subordinate and the one hosting the precursor intelligence. This behavior is incompatible with other events.”
“It is not. The Dotok needed our help to escape. Cortaro is wounded. He needs us to survive. There is no distinction for me,” Torni said.
“Curious. Wounded were abandoned before—the Japanese invasion of the Philippines, the Fall of Darwin. Explane.”
“Once upon a time I could have been nothing but a camp follower because I’m a woman. Things evolve.”
“Yet there is a circumstance where the wounded would be left behind.”
Torni’s hands squeezed into fists.
“We say things like ‘mission first, Marines always,’ but the mission is what matters. If we were so intent on preserving lives, we would never go to war in the first place. Our lives are forfeit for the mission, but a good leader like Hale will find a way to win without getting us all killed. Here, on Anthalas, we had the chance to get to the extraction point with everyone. Hale took it.”
“There was hope.”
“That’s right.”
“I hate that word. There is no room for ‘hope’ in a decision.” Minder shook his head and turned to Torni. He froze, his eyes wide in fear.
“What?” Torni turned around.
The General floated in the air, the intensity of the photonic body beneath the gleaming red armor stinging Torni’s eyes. He lashed out and wrapped his massive hand around Torni’s head. He lifted her into the air, her limbs flailing.
Her mind felt like an inferno inside her head. She was on the surface of the Crucible one moment, staring at the surviving ships in the fleet as they moved through the wrecks after the Battle of the Crucible, then yanked inside the Breitenfeld where she read through the casualty list from the battle, scanning for names she knew.
The General tossed her aside. She bounced off the white floor of the now empty simulation and rolled to a stop. She raised her head and caught a blast of hurricane-force wind to the face, a roar of static and cracking steel rushing over her.
The sound died away. Torni felt hot blood running from her nose and ears. She got to her hands and knees as blood dribbled down her face and fell. The drops didn’t hit the floor; they vanished to nothing as they fell into eternity. Her face contorted with pain as she struggled to breathe. Minder accepted that she was nothing more than a simulation, but when he looked upon her…all he saw was another being. Suffering.
“I’m sorry.” Minder was at her side.
“What…was that?”
“The simulation makes you feel what is done to your consciousness. It is the only way we can communicate. The General’s query…must have been painful. What did he want?”
“Ship names.” Torni wiped blood from her lips. The red stains seeped into her fingers and disappeared. “Ships that survived the fight to capture the Crucible. Numbers of fighters, crews, not something I was smart on. My head isn’t real. Why does it hurt so much?”
“The General is not subtle. Here, let me…” Minder gently pressed his palms against her ears. Torni felt warmth flow through her body and the pain subsided. “Better?”
Torni touched Minder’s wrist. She felt the pulse of a strong heartbeat and pulled away from him, startled.
“You’re alive?”
“Not in a way you understand,” he said.
“What was that noise? It sounded like someone fed a battleship into a trash compactor.”
“The General spoke. He was…displeased with my progress.” Minder looked away.
“That’s what you sound like?”
“No, that is the Master’s speech. You still do not appreciate their eminence, their perfection. I am a lower caste, nothing compared to them.”
“What did he say?”
Minder stepped away from her.
“Let me show you something.” Minder raised a hand over his head. Darkness fell around them. He lowered his hand and a silver speck of light appeared in the distance. The light grew brighter and closer. Torni made out a twenty-sided polyhedron, surrounded by brass rings like the ones surrounding Ceres, as it neared.
“This is the Apex. Our home. Our salvation. Your mind cannot process scale without a frame of reference. Here…” Minder snapped his fingers. An overlay of the solar system appeared within the Apex, the sun at its center. The edge of the Apex stretched nearly to the orbit of Mars.
“That’s…”
“Remarkable, yes. The Engineer cannibalized several star systems to create it. Designed to transport the pinnacle of our species from
our galaxy to yours. Some useful lower-caste intelligences were brought along. My worth was not as high as others who were not chosen. I cannot explane my inclusion. You might call it ‘luck.’”
“If you can build something like this, how is any other species in my galaxy a threat to you? Why are your drones killing everything they find?” Torni asked. “You said it was a mistake, some knee-jerk reaction because the drones came across a species using jump technology.”
“You do not understand the reasons behind our actions, as I do not understand your hope. As for the drones, their purpose is to annihilate all intelligent life. Our time is limited. There is no reason for me to keep up the charade.” Minder watched as Torni fought to maintain her composure as she came to grips with the truth he’d kept hidden from her.
“I’ve had this discussion with you,” Minder said, “other iterations of your consciousness. Each time you learn the truth of the drones, you shut down and offer nothing but your full name and serial number, like you are a prisoner of war—an apt description of your circumstances, but I digress.”
Torni looked around, finding no avenue for escape.
“I…will help you, Torni. I have a way to get you back to Earth, but I want you to see something first,” Minder said.
“You play this same trick before? Offer to help and squeeze some more information out of me?”
“The General ordered me to destroy you and all your reference data. There isn’t much time before I must obey.” Minder looked to the Apex. They plunged into the enormous structure and passed through the outer hull.
Two crystalline spikes ran from the hull to a yellow sun at the center. Torni’s breath caught. The scale of the spikes became clear; each would have stretched from Mars to Mercury. Streams of energy flowed from the sun down the spikes and into a crystalline mountain range at their base. The entire inner shell of the Apex glittered, like she was inside a geode.
“How are we supposed to fight this?” Torni asked.
“This is what you need to see.” Minder grabbed her by the hand and took her toward the surface. They stopped in front of a crystal face, the size of the Breitenfeld, protruding into the air. “Look closely.”
Torni got within an arm’s distance. She saw a distorted shadow just beneath the crystal. Tall, it was, with spindly limbs. The shadow hung impassively then vanished in a blur. Torni pulled back.
“We exist within the Apex, and only within the Apex. The General is but one of us. His consciousness is limited to one place at a time. The drones’ programming can be altered, corrupted, but not if the General is alive to fight it. Cut him off from our network and he can be killed. Do you understand me? If the Apex reaches your galaxy, we will be legion and you are doomed.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“We are wrong. We never gave other species a chance, always assumed our perfection was absolute and could only become less by contact with others. I do not understand you. The simple possibility of another way of living makes me doubt what I know.” A chagrined look passed over his face. “Maybe Keeper is right. There can be no contact without corruption.”
He cocked his head to the sky.
“He’s coming.” Minder snapped his fingers. The Apex and Torni faded away, replaced by his lab.
Minder shifted from human into a black hole bordered by a wide accretion disk. Presenting himself as anything but his preferred Xaros form would earn an instant sanction from the approaching Master, who was not known for half measures or mercy.
The air above Minder transformed into a wide star field, mirroring the constellations visible from the destroyed Xaros home world.
Keeper was here.
+Report.+
+The human—+
+NO!+ The shock of Keeper’s rebuke threatened to rip Minder apart. Several of the vessels holding Torni burst apart.
+The General was here. Why?+
+He took information from the…subject. Military in nature.+
+He chooses to spar with the corruption directly. Hubris, or their threat is greater than he’s led me to believe. Either is unacceptable.+
An idea came to Minder, one with variable outcomes.
+The General ordered me to destroy the data and finalize my report,+ Minder said, hesitating just enough to let Keeper reach his own conclusion. +I will comply immediately.+
+No. You are my thrall, not his. Continue your research.+
The more the General has to rely on Torni, the weaker he looks to his peers, Minder thought.
+Yes, Master.+
Keeper faded away. Minder made a note to query Torni and find out if hope was a physiological reaction or an intellectual concept. Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to understand the word.
CHAPTER 12
The soul forge thrummed as the pillar’s intensity wavered slightly. The Marines and armor formed a perimeter around Malal and Stacey as they climbed onto a circular platform jutting out from a ring running around the pillar and connected to the bridge.
“So…what happens next?” Standish asked.
“Same as the lab,” Hale said. “Those two find and tag the data we need, then we beat our feet out of here.”
A window of light opened near the platform. A ghostly band of energy emerged and coiled around Malal.
“That guy gives me the creeps,” Egan said.
“Gives you the creeps?” Yarrow asked.
“Stow it,” Cortaro growled.
Hale felt a chill creep into his armor. The temperature readings on his suit plummeted. A dark patch of sky formed high above the bridge a few hundred yards away, malevolent like the base of a storm just about to break.
A deep voice broke through the air, hitting Hale like a slap of thunder.
“Get. Out.”
Echoes of the words reverberated around them.
“This place is haunted,” Standish said as he crept closer to Elias’ legs. “Great. Cherry on top of an otherwise horrible day.”
A dark bolt fell to the bridge. An ethereal shape of a man walked toward the Marines, its limbs jerking like a stiff marionette. Hale aimed his rifle.
“Give him to us.” The words were a screech. “Give us the demon. Free your slaves. You may leave, fully functional.”
“We’re here for information. Nothing else,” Hale said, “and you’re not getting anything from us.”
The speaker vanished. The dark portal grew wider as wafts of black haze spilled over the edges.
“Here we go…” Bailey said.
“Stacey, how much longer?” Hale asked.
“About…two hours,” she said.
“Two hours!”
“Do you want to come up here and sort through millions of years’ worth of impossibly encrypted data? Because you can, be my guest and help,” she said.
“Contact,” Elias said.
A mass of orange and white segmented plates descended from the portal. Tiny legs writhed at the edges of the linked armor, each as big as a city bus. The tip of the gigantic creature grasped at the air.
“The Jinn word for the creature roughly translates as ‘wyrm,’” Malal said. “They were not friendly.”
“Elias, can you hit it with your rail cannons?” Hale asked.
“I tried to get my anchor through this bridge, can’t. Even if I could, the blast would turn you crunchies into mush and send you flying off the edge,” Elias said.
The wyrm’s tail touched the bridge and the rest of the body curled down like a snake readying to strike. A fanged maw surrounded by feeder arms tipped with scythes came out of the portal. There were no eyes, just a mouth that looked like it could swallow one of the Iron Hearts whole.
“Fire!” Hale let loose a high-power shot and hit the wyrm at the edge of the mouth. The snap and flash from gauss weapons erupted around him as he fired as fast as he could aim after each kick of recoil.
The wyrm’s armor plates buckled and shattered under the withering fire. The wyrm swung from side to side then slammed its
bulk against the bridge. The quake sent Hale reeling. He stumbled until he felt Elias’ massive hand on his back. The barrels on the armor’s twin cannons glowed red as he pounded the wyrm.
A trill broke through the air. The wyrm crawled to the edge of the bridge then slithered under the edge. Its entire body followed moments later. Lumps of broken glass twinkled on the bridge.
Hale felt the vibration of thousands and thousands of legs bringing the wyrm closer to them.
“Ah…fuck.” Hale looked around, trying to think of anything that might help. “Grenades! Set for lance and fall back.” He pulled an anti-armor grenade off his belt and twisted the handle two clicks to activate it.
“Fall back into a corral.” Cortaro slapped Bailey on the shoulder and pointed to the middle of the bridge just beneath the platform. Marines formed into a circle, their weapons pointed to either side of the bridge.
“Egan has charges. Maybe we blow the bridge?” Orozco asked.
“How would we get out of here, smart guy?” Standish slipped a grenade into the launcher slung beneath his rifle. “You want to try and fly across a hole big enough to keep that thing away from us?”
“I could throw you,” Kallen said.
“Oh, look who’s got jokes now. Everyone remember to tip your waitress. She’ll be here through next Thursday,” Standish said.
Elias’ right hand retracted into the forearm housing, replaced by a spike tip.
The bridge shook with tremors as the wyrm closed within a hundred yards.
“Give us an opening,” Elias said.
“To do what?” Hale asked.
“Charges.” Kallen pointed at Egan. “Give them to me.” Egan glanced at Hale, who nodded quickly. Egan unclipped a tan box and pressed it into Kallen’s hand.
“Denethrite will explode if hit hard enough,” Bodel said to Orozco. “Wait until we’re clear.”
The trembling stopped. A bead of sweat ran down Hale’s face. He cocked the grenade behind his head and glanced from side to side, waiting for the wyrm to strike. Cortaro had a grenade up, his gaze fixed on the right side. Hale looked left.
