Eternal Return (War Eternal Book 6)

by M. R. Forbes

  "Yes, Colonel."

  Teegin burst ahead, racing through the woods at impossible speed. Mitchell lost visual within a few second but kept tabs on its progress through his p-rat. He didn't need to a heartbeat later when the bullets began to fly.

  He started running himself, skirting the edge of the battlefield, keeping clear of the targets his ARR was painting for him. He watched, impressed, as they began to vanish, the Core's aim nearly perfect. One by one they fell, and by the time Mitchell reached the small clearing there were only two enemy soldiers remaining behind him.

  "I have neutralized the threat, Colonel," Teegin announced.

  "I noticed," he replied.

  He looked ahead. The Lifter was remaining stationary, its large repulsors casting the area in a soft glow. His eyes traveled downward, toward the ground beneath it. He could make out the shape of the S-17 through the remaining trees, but he was too far away to assess the damage.

  He kept moving. As he did, a dozen of the engineers ran out from wherever they had been hiding, at the same time three lines dropped from the bottom of the Lifter. Mitchell cursed and picked up the pace as he realized they were trying to secure the starfighter before he arrived.

  Teegin got there ahead of him, bursting into the clearing, its metal frame almost glowing in the light of the repulsors. It had returned the rifles to its back and now it started grabbing the engineers and throwing them away from the ship, casting them aside like children.

  Mitchell's p-rat alerted him to the drones, who were descending quickly now that they had a target in the clear. He raised his rifle, following the trajectory and turning with it, letting the interface help him aim. He squeezed the trigger, sending a burst of rounds into the sky, satisfied when they tore into one of the lightly armored craft. It trailed smoke as it crashed into the trees in the distance.

  The second drone circled, lowering itself and firing. Mitchell rolled to the side as caution alarms went off in his head, avoiding the instantaneous strike. He came up on a knee and fired another burst, the shots going wide. He held the trigger down, sweeping the area as the drone tried to maneuver away. It failed, taking three hits and losing power, tumbling to the ground like a stone.

  He heard the low thump of the repulsors on the Lifter, and then a horrible grinding noise. Without warning, the left nacelle began to smoke and the glow from it subsided. The Lifter lilted to the side, no longer gaining buoyancy from the anti-gravity coils.

  "It's coming down," Mitchell said. "Get away from it."

  Teegin didn't need to look up at the Lifter. The Core moved to the fighter, ducking beneath one of the wings. It bent its knees, getting below it, and then lifted the craft on its back. The starfighter was light by design, but even so the effort looked ridiculous and impossible. Somehow, it was happening.

  The other repulsor began to short, smoke rising from the rear. Strands of metal snaked out from Teegin, wrapping around the starfighter and helping him to balance it as he carried it away.

  The Lifter fell.

  It wasn't that high up. Its descent took only seconds. Mitchell watched as it plummeted, hitting the ground with a booming crash and yet missing the Core and the fighter by a meter or more. The impact shook the ground, sending an echoing rumble through the wood, and raising a cloud of dust, smoke, and debris.

  Mitchell approached the S-17 as the current carried the dust away. Teegin was standing beside it, unfazed by what it had just done. Mitchell stared at the fighter, getting his first good look at it and feeling his heart drop.

  "There's no way that thing is going to fly," he said.

  He had already known the cockpit and canopy would be missing, leaving the front of the craft exposed and bare. They had a plan to handle that. He had also known the wings had taken some fire, but Teegin had assured him that as long as they were intact, they could fly. The problem was that the entire rear section of the S-17 was gone, including the tail that would stabilize the craft during atmospheric flight. The fuselage had burn marks and holes all along it, and the wiring beneath looked like it was fried.

  "The amoebics are still on board, Colonel," Teegin said. "I can extract them."

  Mitchell shook his head. "That's great. Really." He continued staring at the fighter, his hope sinking. "If we can't get to Watson, we're done."

  "Watson believes I am Primitive," Teegin said. "Twenty years is a short time for a Tetron. A blink of an eye, so to speak. I am not like the other Tetron. I am evolved." He smiled at the statement. "As Origin expected it would be. That is the reason we are here, Colonel. The reason you came back. To give me time to grow. The T-virus has always been secondary to our plan."

  "Are you telling me that you can fix that thing?"

  "The starfighter is in worse shape than expected, but Watson has provided all of the resources we need." He pointed to the Lifter.

  Mitchell smiled, the hope returning in an instant. "He doesn't know about Kathy's configurations, or about your ability to convert resources, does he?"

  "No, Colonel, or I expect he would have selected a different course of action. A true Primitive would need over one hundred years to grow large enough to develop such capability."

  "Then how the hell can you do it?"

  "The Tetron are learning machines, Colonel. The merge that created me has provided the data required to miniaturize the process. Hiding beneath the ice provided the time. The engine provides the energy. Li'un Tio was quite adept at such improvements." It paused, surveying the Lifter. "I will require you to keep guard over me while I make the conversion. The process will leave me vulnerable."

  "I'm going to need a little more firepower if you expect me to stop anything Watson might send this way."

  Teegin nodded. "I will extract an amoebic containment capsule, and modify one of the rifles to utilize it. That will not take much time."

  "How long to get the S-17 in the air?"

  "Approximately four hours, Colonel."

  "Four hours? That's a long time."

  "I will be breaking down assembled matter into its component molecules, and reconstituting it in the structure that we desire. It is not a simple task, even by Tetron standards."

  "Point taken. Get me the amoebic rifle, and then get to work."

  "Yes, Colonel."

  The Core moved toward the side of the craft, threads of metal reaching out and sinking into it.

  "Teegin," Mitchell said.

  It turned toward him. "Yes, Colonel."

  "Thank you."

  49

  Mitchell walked the perimeter of the clearing, constantly scanning for signs of incoming opposition. Three hours had passed since Teegin had started its work on the conversion in a process that was mostly invisible to him.

  The Core had removed one of the amoebic capsules from the starfighter first, surprising Mitchell when it held the object up for him to see. The capsule was twenty-five centimeters long and half as wide, only slightly larger than the magazine already resting in one of the assault rifles. As Teegin explained, it wasn't the system that created the organic explosives, but was rather the storage unit for the ones that had already been formed, fifty per capsule. It had taken the unit along with the rifle, and absorbed both into its dense construction, expanding to contain them as though it were pregnant. Then it had begun pulsing with energy from the eternal engine, while at the same time moving the S-17 closer to where the dead Lifter had come to rest.

  Thirty minutes later, it expelled the rifle. The capsule had replaced the insert for the grenade launcher; the action changed so that a pump of the launcher would fire an amoebic instead. Teegin had also improved the underlying electronics of the weapon, creating a wireless network that would only accept Mitchell's p-rat identification and would allow full integration of the weapon with the neural interface. It was an impressive bit of work that had left Mitchell in awe of the Tetrons' true capabilities.

  After finishing the rifle, Teegin had started pulling the Lifter apart with a speed only a machine cou
ld achieve, taking the raw materials it would need to effect the repairs on the starfighter. Most of the resources were culled from the cockpit, including the clear carbonate canopy, the seats, the wiring, and the controls, but the Core had also claimed large pieces of the metal shell and even some of the underlying structure. It had gathered it all into piles beside the S-17. Then it had changed form, the densely packed dendrites straightening out, expanding, growing, and multiplying as the pulses of energy grew stronger. It was pulling a lot of power from the eternal engine, but it assured him there would be enough.

  The dendrites created a dome around the fighter and the assembled materials, hiding it all from view. Mitchell didn't know if it was necessary to the process, or if the Tetron preferred to be secretive about this specific bit of technological capability. He assumed there had to be a reason it was done out of sight. Maybe there was a danger during the reconstruction that the materials being manipulated might become volatile? He didn't have a chance to ask before Teegin's mouth had dispersed.

  So far, there hadn't been any reprisal from Watson for their intervention, a fact that worried Mitchell. As much as he was thankful for the reprieve, he would almost have preferred for the intelligence to stay on an anger-filled offensive. The idea of Watson regaining control of his emotions and acting in a cold, calculating manner was frightening.

  He kept walking, circling the area around the Lifter, watching for signs of trouble. Another ten minutes passed, and when he looked over at Teegin he could see the pulses of energy along the Core's dendrites had increased in frequency, moving at a pace that nearly joined them into a single, solid stream. It was growing again as well, lifting higher and higher above the ground but remaining wrapped around the starfighter.

  What was it doing under there?

  Mitchell looked back out at the distant sky, broken up by the trees and partially obscured by clouds. He wondered how Katherine, Kathy, and the others were faring. They would be near the Goliath's launch site by now, if not already trying to make their way inside. He hoped they could take the starship, and just as importantly that they could hold it while he worked to complete his part of the mission.

  Ten more minutes passed, leaving him feeling anxious and impatient.

  When the first of the machines dropped in below the ceiling, he was almost grateful.

  They swooped down from the clouds, nearly a dozen in all, rounded squares with large turbofans in the center of a repulsor ring, with stubby wings that carried mounted ordnance below them and a large battery pack in the rear with a turreted laser mounted on top.

  "Teegin, I hope you're almost done," he said into the comm, at the same time he started running to the east, toward the incoming machines.

  He watched as his ARR painted the lasers they fired, red bolts that sliced across the Primitive as they made their strafing run. He brought his rifle up, his p-rat giving him a proper reticle as though he had his eye right on the sight. He pumped the launcher and watched as an amoebic streaked across the sky, slamming into the lead drone, the explosion large enough to take out the one beside it.

  They scattered at the result, breaking up to avoid his attack. Half of them circled, trying to get an angle on him, while the other half came back for a second run on Teegin.

  "Come on," Mitchell said, hurrying across the field toward cover.

  He held the rifle out to his side, not looking at the drones but able to target them regardless. He shifted his aim and squeezed the trigger, the weapon bucking into his ribs as his bullets reached up and swatted another drone from the sky.

  He made it to the tree line and dove, sliding on the moist dirt behind a large oak. Lasers tore into it a moment later, the smell of burning wood and smoke reaching Mitchell as he crawled on his hands and knees to a better defensive position.

  He reached it and looked across the field, to where the drones were going after Teegin once more. He pumped the launcher again, watching as a second amoebic slammed into a drone. He fired again, taking out a fifth, and then a sixth. They gave up the attack then, pulling away to try a new tactic.

  "Come on, Teegin. If you can finish early, do it."

  There was still no response from the Core. Mitchell's p-rat warned him as it picked up motion in the woods at his back. He turned just in time to catch a glimpse of a spider-like machine skittering across the ground, coming his way.

  He cursed, backing up. He had seen machines like this before, on Liberty. Those hadn't been carrying ranged weapons. Were these?

  Echoing gunfire and churned up dirt confirmed that they were. He moved away from his position, scanning in both directions. He was caught in the crossfire, with spiders ahead of him and drones behind.

  He clenched his teeth, pumping the grenade launcher and firing amoebics one after another, five in all at the line of trees ahead of him. The explosions were like thunder, and more than one tree cracked and moaned as it started to topple. His p-rat chirped a warning, and he dove aside just in time to avoid a laser from one of the drones.

  "I have completed the adjustments, Colonel," Teegin said. "Ahead of schedule, as you requested. Please rendezvous at my position."

  "Gladly," Mitchell replied, reaching the field and crossing it at a run.

  The drones were still peppering the Tetron with lasers, though now an energy shield seemed to be absorbing the attack. Mitchell opened fire, emptying his magazine as he crossed the distance to the metal dome beside the Lifter. Two more drones fell from his attack.

  He pulled up as a tight beam of blue light launched from Teegin's surface, hitting one of the other drones. It exploded, burned to nothing by the powerful energy attack. A second bolt lanced out a moment later, hitting another drone.

  Mitchell started running again. As he neared, a small opening appeared in the threads, giving him access inside. He dove into it, rolling to his feet and facing back toward the outside. He fired one more amoebic at the trailing spiders and then turned around again.

  He froze as he took in the sight of the S-17.

  "What did you do?" he asked.

  "Modifications for enhanced mission variability," Teegin replied.

  What had once been a starfighter now took on the appearance of a monstrous hybrid of aircraft and mech. The canopy, fuselage, and wings were still there, but the broken half of the tail was gone, replaced by a pelvis with four armored ball joints where two arms and legs extended. A pair of hands held a large rifle out to the front of the aircraft portion, and a pair of lasers were slung beside the cockpit.

  "That thing is ugly," Mitchell said, still staring.

  "Ugly, but effective in space, air, and land combat."

  "Does it float?"

  "Sadly, no."

  Mitchell approached it. The S-17 tilted forward, the cockpit angling down to allow him easy access. He jumped over the side, dropping into the freshly recreated cockpit. "How do I control it?"

  "It has the same interface as your rifle," Teegin replied. "Think your actions, just like you are flying a modern starfighter."

  Mitchell clenched the grips on both sides of the cockpit. As he did, his p-rat picked up the new connection and began showing him data on the condition of the craft.

  "What about you?" Mitchell asked.

  "Clear the field while I condense."

  "Affirmative."

  He brought the monster to life, powering up the reactor and lifting the torso. The creation moved smoothly, and a moment later he was turning it in the direction of the spiders.

  "How many rounds does this rifle have?"

  "It contains the entire amoebic module. They will regenerate after use."

  Meaning nearly unlimited, as long as he didn't use them too quickly. "Let me out."

  "Yes, Colonel."

  The strands lifted as one, like a massive door swinging aside. The spiders were circling Teegin's dome, unable to pierce the Core's shields.

  He raised the large rifle and squeezed the trigger. Three spiders exploded as the amoebic hit. Then wit
h a thought he engaged the thrusters, sending the hybrid craft sliding along the ground and out past the Core.

  He cut the thrust, lowering the thing onto its legs and using them to run toward the spiders. Lasers bit at him, but Teegin had repurposed the Lifter's reactor, placing it in the fighter to return it to full power. Shields sparked as the lasers were deflected, and Mitchell began lancing out with his own weapons, hitting one machine after another.

  He bent his legs and jumped, adding thrust as the mech gained the sky. Repulsors reduced its weight, and it shot forward, lifted by the wings, rising quickly. A thought sent it into a tight circle as the arms and legs automatically tucked in beneath it, the large rifle held beneath the cockpit by the massive hand.

  He looked down, finding Teegin clear of the attack and shrinking with each passing second, the additional threads pressing more tightly together to reduce him to his prior size.

  "I could use a ride, Colonel," Teegin said.

  "Coming in," Mitchell replied.

  He banked harder, dropping toward the ground. His HUD showed him a target moving in from his left. He shut down the main thrusters, increasing vectoring thrust and extending the legs to turn the fighter sideways. He brought the lasers around, firing on the incoming drone and destroying it before it could slam into him.

  "Not bad," he said, impressed with the performance of the machine. Why hadn't the UEA every thought to make something like this?

  He swooped in, pulling up short as he neared Teegin's position, the craft hanging motionless in the air for a moment before dropping to the ground on its feet. Mitchell opened the canopy with a thought, dropping the cockpit and forward as if bowing to the Tetron.

  Teegin bowed back, and then climbed the side of the craft, taking up a position on the top of the body.

  "I am too dense to ride in the cockpit with you, Colonel," it explained. "I will cause an imbalance that will severely limit your offensive potential."

  "Have it your way," Mitchell said, closing the cockpit and bringing the S-17 back upright. "Let's get moving before Watson sends the big guns."