The Complete Void Wraith Saga
Page 47
Reid considered his course of action. He knew this had to be Nolan, and for once Reid had the upper hand. He could destroy their harvester before it lifted off, leaving them stranded. Even if the Judicators below somehow failed to capture or kill Nolan, he’d be trapped here, unable to continue his quest for the Birthplace.
The Birthplace. Reid spun off a separate thoughtline, another thread of consciousness to be considered in tandem with the Nolan situation. This spawned other thoughtlines, dozens of them. They grew into a vast tapestry, one stretching back to the original Eradication, when the Gorthians had first discovered this galaxy.
“I have the answer.” Reid knew instantly that he must report his findings. It thrummed, sending a quantum signal across tens of thousands of light years—another of the marvelous new organs.
“Speak, progeny.” The Eye’s response wasn’t words, not precisely. It was pure sensory data, but Reid’s mind still thought of them as words. Rendering them in that way was helpful somehow.
“I have made a connection. You have commanded that Nolan be kept from the master core, but I believe we must allow him to acquire it,” Reid transmitted the aggregate of all thoughtlines, speaking only the conclusion aloud. “I believe the Primo used a causality matrix, and I think I know what the key to that matrix might be.”
“Your thoughtlines are clear,” the Eye mused. “I agree with your findings. Need may be the key to the matrix. Allow entity Nolan to take the core, and he may be able to find the location of the Birthplace.”
Reid could feel the Eye digesting his lines of thought, reveling in the new perspective Reid’s human-born mind provided. He showed the Eye his vision, and knew the Eye was pleased. It approved, and withdrew from his mind to allow him space to execute the plan.
Reid turned his single bulbous eye to the console. If he’d had a mouth he would have smiled.
“Send a transmission on the Alpha frequency,” Reid commanded. This was the only way to reach the vessel commanding the garrison. A light on the console turned green, signifying the connection. “Judicator Alpha-six-eleven, a small team is approaching the central core. I want you to intercept them. Here is what you will do.”
20
Too Easy
Nolan trotted into the relative darkness, relying on his goggles to identify targets. The goggles were great, switching automatically to low light when the need was detected. They’d been part of the equipment package Dryker had passed along. It was strange actually having the tools you needed to do your job well.
“Doesn’t look like they much care we’re here,” Annie said, a little louder than Nolan would have liked.
“Stow it, Annie,” Hannan snapped in a harsh whisper, shooting a glare at the rumpled Marine. “Stay frosty.”
“She’s got a point,” Nolan whispered into the comm. He didn’t like not having a visual on the others, but with the stealth belts the shimmer was the only thing he was going to get. “There was no resistance to our landing, at all. Either that means our enemies are a whole lot less sophisticated than we’ve seen so far, or this is a trap.”
Hannan’s voice came back over the comm. “That mean you want to pull back, sir?” The shimmer he associated with her paused at the mouth of the next tunnel.
“I wish we could.” Nolan trotted forward, pausing near the tunnel mouth. The HUD in his goggles indicated they’d come about halfway. “We need this core. There isn’t any other option. Either we get the data here, or we concede final defeat to the Void Wraith. This is our last shot at finding the Birthplace.”
Delta’s quiet voice came over the comm. It was only the second time he’d spoken that day. “If it even still exists. It’s possible it was destroyed millennia ago. Hell, we don’t even know what it is we’re looking for, even if we do find it.”
“I get it, Delta,” Nolan replied smoothly. “The op sucks. We don’t have another plan, so we either pull this off, or give up and find a hole to hide in. I’m not giving up. Hannan, let’s double-time it. I’m getting nervous.”
“Yes, sir,” Hannan said. Her shimmer broke into a near-sprint. “Keep up, people. Edwards, I want you to move to rear guard.”
The squad made excellent time through the tunnel, and Nolan couldn’t help but feel a little pride. He remembered coming aboard the UFC Johnston—hell, he remembered his first field op back on the Sparhawk. He’d had no idea how little he knew about combat, or what poor shape he was in. Months of training and conditioning had turned him into something approaching a real Marine, or so he hoped.
The lower gravity meant that everything felt effortless, and they made amazing time through the tunnels. One hundred twenty-two seconds later, they emerged into the bottom of the building that Ship had identified as the central library. The structure didn’t look much different from the surrounding tunnels, save that elaborate runes now dotted panels next to every doorway. Presumably they were directions of some kind.
“Ship, can you see these?” Nolan asked, gliding forward as silently as he could.
“Affirmative, Captain,” Ship replied. “What you’re looking at are identification markers, by subject apparently. I’ll monitor your feed and let you know if I detect anything worth mentioning.”
Nolan leaned into his sprint, noticing that Hannan’s shimmering form had stopped outside the next tunnel, which sloped downward away from her position and led deeper into the library. Nolan slowed as he approached, identifying Annie and Delta also crouched there, watching. It wasn’t hard to guess why they’d stopped. At the base of the stairwell stood a pair of Alpha Judicators, and beyond them half a dozen smaller ones.
“Sir?” Hannan breathed into the comm.
“If we try approaching and they detect us, we’re screwed. If we attack them and they raise an alarm, we’re screwed,” Nolan said aloud, chewing on the problem. He clenched a fist, deciding. “We don’t have a choice. Let’s take them out, and push into the core’s chamber as quickly as possible. Smash and grab, people.”
“All right,” Hannan replied. There was a moment’s silence, then she spoke again. “Edwards, we’re going to need you to go ballistic on the Alpha to the right. The rest of us will concentrate fire on the left, distracting that thing until you can deal with it.”
“Roger that, Sarge,” Edwards replied, the glee in his voice convincing Nolan that the private was as crazy as he’d previously assumed.
“Go,” Hannan hissed.
Edwards sprinted forward, using the lower gravity to great effect. He launched himself into the air, his leap taking him above the first Alpha. It started to turn in his direction, but by that point Edwards had ignited his plasma sword, which swept down in a tight arc, slicing through his opponent’s thick arm. The severed limb clattered to the deck in a spray of orangish blood, and the Alpha staggered to the side as its balance was thrown off.
Nolan turned his attention to the Alpha on the left. Hannan and Delta were already moving, their combined fire concentrated on the Alpha’s right knee. Nolan drew a bead, then added his own stream of shots; Annie did the same. In the space of two seconds they severed the leg at the knee, and the Alpha toppled to the deck even as Edwards sliced its companion apart.
The Judicators behind the Alphas were beginning to move, and answering fire shot back in their direction. Nolan dove for cover, using the high ground. He lay flat, most of his body still hidden in the hallway, and fired three quick bursts at the Judicator. The first found the target; the other shots went wild. The Judicators fell back into cover. Their wounded companion didn’t quite make it, caught by one of Annie’s shots.
Edwards finished off the first Alpha, leaping into the fray with the now-legless second. He brought his sword down on the back of its head, the blue-white blade slicing through the brain and chest in another spray of orange goo.
Nolan winced, waiting for the explosion. If it came, it would blow the entire op. Judicators didn’t always explode though, and he was hoping that they had no such order on this world.
Edwards obliged, firing the massive cannon slung under his left arm. It burned through a section of the wall, nearly catching a Judicator that had risked return fire. Their enemies had no choice but to hang back while half the squad flanked them. A moment later Delta and Annie began their crossfire, answered sporadically by the Judicators.
“Captain, you’re with me,” Hannan said, sprinting down the hallway. She paused at the edge, leaning low and rolling a grenade around the corner.
Nolan counted to three, then braced himself as it detonated. The room shook, and he hoped that no one above had felt it. Then Nolan darted around the corner, gunning down the last two Judicators. Just like that, it was over, the corridor thick with the smell of ozone and the tangy scent of Judicator blood.
“All right, Edwards,” Nolan said, pointing up the hallway. “We’ve got a straight shot to the core room. Get down there, don’t wait for us.”
21
Witness
Izzy leapt into the air, kicking off the sloped wall of the building. She grabbed the lip of the roof, using her momentum to sling herself atop it, then dropped prone and tried to calm her breathing. It took effort to still her tail, forcing it to lay flat against her leg. She flicked the switch on her belt, turning off the cloaking, and froze, shrinking against the hot metal as her pursuers approached.
Four Judicators advanced up the street, their weapons swiveling as they sought targets. They seemed puzzled, their pace slowing as they tried to find some sign of her. Izzy refused to give it to them. She’d grown up a huntress, and while she’d never be Fizgig’s equal in combat, no one was better at stalking prey.
The four Judicators turned, making their way back toward the landing pad. The fact that they’d disengaged the instant she deactivated the belt was confirmation that they could track their own technology. That had serious implications; it meant that Nolan had also been detected, and was likely walking into a trap. She briefly considered pursuing him, but discarded the idea.
Catching up would be difficult without her stealth belt. She’d have to creep carefully from cover to cover, and she’d never gain ground that way. So how could she be useful? She could ask him for instructions, but Izzy was loathe to break radio silence. They were in an enemy encampment, and every transmission would be a risk.
Izzy’s breathing finally slowed, and a slight breeze ruffled her snowy fur. It carried something on it, something she’d only smelled once before: a foul odor, one that had come from Admiral Mow when Fizgig had torn out his throat. It was the smell of whatever creature he’d been about to turn into.
Izzy shimmied along the roof, very conscious that she had no hard cover from anyone above her. Fortunately, the building was taller than even Alpha Judicators, and they all seemed to have given up the search for the disturbance. A few had begun cleaning up debris from the explosion she’d caused, but the rest had already gone back to patrol.
She reached the far edge of the roof, where the smell was strongest. Izzy studied the neighboring landing platform, which contained several harvesters and a vessel she’d often heard described. The Sparhawk. It looked tiny next to the capital ships, though the railgun under the cockpit identified it as a warship. Nearly a dozen Alphas ringed the vessel, and at least a hundred Judicators stood at attention. That kind of detail wasn’t used anywhere else, not even for the central library. So why was this ship so important? She adjusted her goggles, setting them to record.
Izzy scanned the platform, realizing that there was no way she’d be able to get inside to find out. The stench was coming from inside, and it was definitely getting stronger. It touched something primal within her, and the fur on her tail stood out straight like the bristles on a brush. That was embarrassing, but thankfully Fizgig wasn’t around to see it. Mighty Fizgig would have given her a tongue-lashing about controlling her emotions.
Izzy’s eyes widened as something emerged from the aft doorway. She had heard the planet-sized Eye described, and imagined that what she was seeing must be a miniature version. Its main body was perhaps five feet in diameter, a milky white orb veined with dark red. A mass of tentacles writhed from the back, some used for locomotion while others held everything from weapons to a data pad. The thing moved fast, leaving the ship and descending to the platform with alarming speed.
The Judicators turned as one, saluting. The little eye rose from the platform. It floated into the air, drifting in her direction. Izzy panicked. She rolled across the roof, dropping lightly to the ground in an alleyway. That put her in view of any Judicator who happened to pass by; with a muttered curse Izzy thumbed on her stealth belt. She just had to hope they hadn’t detected the signal from this distance.
Her gaze settled on the harvester they’d come in. If Nolan made it out, that was where he’d go, so she needed to get back inside. Nolan needed to see this footage as soon as possible.
22
The Nest
Mendez experienced the kind of dread a two-year-old in the dark knows—the certainty that something evil lurks there, watching. Only Mendez could see this evil, the Eye floating in space before him. His harvester approached, descending quickly toward the point somewhere south of the iris. He knew the Eye was aware of him, could feel the tremendous weight of its attention.
The ship zipped toward the Eye, descending into a thin, soupy atmosphere. It was humid, and mist eddied and swirled around the harvester as it set down on the rocky surface. Mendez took a deep breath, and walked to the airlock and down the ramp, carrying no weapon except for his side arm. He didn’t bring food or supplies, because he knew he’d need neither here.
Mendez walked toward a rocky hill, even the brief exertion taxing him. He wheezed with every step, sweat breaking out everywhere in the first few steps. He turned his attention inward, trying to distract himself from the exercise.
The attack on Jaguara had gone well, but his goal of isolating the world had failed. A group of Tigris vessels had waited for the main Void Wraith fleet to land, then ambushed one of his patrols in a daring raid. They’d seized a number of harvesters, fleeing the system before the bulk of his fleet could arrive. Not enough had gotten away to be a real threat, but they would spread word and would most likely link up with Fizgig.
Still, the Jaguara had lost their homeworld, and the vast majority of their military strength had been neutralized.
Mendez was weaving now, but he redoubled his pace, pushing hard to reach the mouth of a tunnel at the base of the hill. It was covered with a terrifying organic material, like something an insect would secrete. That didn’t matter; he knew he had to reach it, and that he’d be safe inside.
So Mendez kept moving, trying to distract himself with tactics and logistics. He had some limited success, but every step was still harder than the last.
“Maybe if I talk out loud,” Mendez said, stumbling over a chalky rock. “God, I must look wretched.”
He continued toward the tunnel, finally entering. The humidity was even worse here, and a foul stench came from all around him. Something big scuttled in the darkness. Many somethings. Reflective eyes flashed as his wrist light swept the tunnel ahead, then they scattered, scurrying back into the shadows as he approached.
It was damned creepy. Mendez hated bugs. But on some primal level, he understood that they wouldn’t attack. They could smell the larva, and they feared it. Perhaps they knew what it would become—and that scared the hell out of Mendez.
He kept walking, his breath coming in painful little pants. Finally, he reached a wide chamber. Below was a pool of bright green fluid, and in the center lay a sort of bed—a bed intended for him. Hoses extended from the bed into the fluid, and he realized with certainty that those hoses would be attached to him.
23
The Shortest Chapter
Edwards sprinted up the corridor, his metallic body leaping thirty feet per stride. This lower gravity was amazing, even more fun than he’d had in the Primo library. Sparks flew from the floor as he skidded to a halt in front of a large door with a stylized image of a floating cube on it.
“Nice of them to label the right room,” Edwards said to himself. Then he pushed the door. Nothing. “Okay then, looks like I’ve got to use some necessary force.” If he’d still had a mouth he’d have grinned.
Edwards ignited his plasma sword, jamming it into the narrow crack between the doors. He leaned against it, plunging the blade almost to the hilt, then planted a robotic foot against the wall next to the door and pulled, using his leg to brace himself. Gyros all over his body strained, but after a moment the right-hand door came open with an echoing pop. He stumbled backwards, catching himself against the opposite wall.
“Let’s see if we can get ourselves a cube,” he muttered, ducking into the room. It was a simple affair, very similar to the last two cube rooms. A pedestal stood in the center, with a massive cube bobbing up and down above it.
“There you are,” Edwards said, moving up to the pedestal. “You and me are going for a little walk there, friend. Don’t worry, I have tons of experience hauling around cubes like you.”
Edwards seized the cube with both hands, just like he had at the last library. He was completely unprepared for the massive jolt of power the shot through him. His entire body went rigid, then collapsed to the floor. Every light in his HUD turned red.