Rebels and Patriots (Imperium Cicernus Book 3)

by A. G. Claymore

  The two Marines came back inside and closed the hatch.

  “Perhaps,” Kinsey continued, “you’d like to play with a real soldier…”

  He doubled over as Paul let go of Urbica’s arms and drove an armored fist into the colonel’s stomach. The man was still alive, surprisingly.

  Marine armor was incredibly powerful. Piloting a suit like this could take months of training for an un-augmented candidate. Paul’s implants made it much easier to control, but he barely had a handle on his own anger at the moment.

  He could easily have punched his fist straight through the man’s unarmored torso.

  Urbica released herself and gave Paul a wry grin. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” She tilted her head slightly as his helmet retracted. “I can handle myself.”

  “I know,” Paul agreed. “I’m sure you could put me down if you had to. “I just couldn’t help it.”

  A very slight smile. “It’s alright.” She looked down at their prisoner. “As long as you didn’t kill him…”

  “The person you’re asking for…” The pilot’s voice drifted back to them. “…can’t very well confirm his intentions over official channels, now, can he?”

  There was a pause. “Yeah, why don’t you just do that. Listen, our mutual acquaintance is going to be pissed if he has to go all the way back to the bridge just to explain his plan to your replacement.”

  Another pause. “Hey! What a super idea! Next time, show that kind of flexibility from the start, you moron.” The pilot killed the channel and started firing up the engine.

  “This is gonna be the death of me,” he declared. “Strap in. They’re giving us clearance to leave.”

  “You went kind of hard on him.” Urbica had slid back into her armor and dropped into the co-pilot seat. “Good work. They’d expect attitude from a man who has their CO breathing his neck.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re gonna see all kinds of attitude when our guys show up.” He lifted them off the deck and headed for the hangar exit. “You sure this’ll work?”

  “If Kinsey values his own hide, it will,” she replied. “Keep your fingers crossed because there’s no plan B.”

  They passed out through the shields. The point defense batteries didn’t so much as twitch when they started their descent toward Vermillion.

  “Weather ain’t so hot,” the pilot called out. “At least it’s a night-side storm, so mostly rain — almost no particulates.”

  The small craft began to buck and heave as they dropped into the swirling weather system. Water pounded against the hull and streamed past the side portals.

  Paul was far less nervous this time. He knew the heavy weather was less than safe, but it was a walk in the park compared to the abrasive sand of a day-side storm.

  The turbulence dropped off sharply as they entered the yawning mouth of an approach tunnel. They moved through the heavy gates at the inner end and descended to the same surface-station where Paul had landed when first arriving.

  He sent a quick signal to Morgan’s office and the four Marines that he’d left behind in the city.

  Urbica walked into the back, finding Kinsey tied to the same post she’d been attached to a few minutes earlier. “We’re going to hold you here,” she told him, “until the attack is finished. I don’t want you getting killed in the fighting. I’d hate to miss your execution.”

  “Attack?” he frowned “What the hell are you talking about? What attack?”

  “We know you’re trying to use Imperial forces to seize this planet,” she explained. “Why you think you can continue to hold it is beyond me, but we aren’t going to let you succeed.”

  Kinsey stared at her for a few seconds, then shook his head in amazement. “No imagination,” he sneered. “I shouldn’t be surprised at how limited your assessment is…”

  “Save it for your trial,” she snapped at him. “We’ll wait down here while our forces attack the Dauntless. After the smoke clears, we’ll drag you back to home-world in chains.”

  Kinsey was suddenly very focused. “We’re in Vermillion?” His eyes darted toward the portals. “We can’t stay here!”

  “What’s wrong, Colonel,” Paul retracted his helmet. “Do you owe someone money down here?”

  “No… just trust me. We can’t stay here if an attack is about to take place against the Dauntless.”

  “Trust you?” Urbica laughed. “Based on what — your stellar track record?”

  Paul saw the four Marines from 488 approaching and he slid the side hatch open and hopped down to the tarmac.

  He walked over to talk to them before they could get close enough for Kinsey to overhear. “What did you boys find out?”

  Ed spoke for them. “Nothing specific but there’s a really strange pro-Gray bias in the local media.”

  Sandy picked up the thread. “A lot of similar garbage on the micro-chat forums. We traced more than ninety percent of it to the same five hive-addresses.”

  “And your buddy, Morgan, said to tell you he found DNA evidence of the missing Vermillians.” Ed added. “Seems they were taken out to the south ruins and shipped out to God knows where. Still alive when they left traces…”

  “So we might be able to save them” Paul looked over his shoulder at the shuttle. “We’d better keep that to ourselves for the moment. Don’t want to end up spreading false hope.” He turned back and lowered his voice. “I have some bad news, guys,” he warned them. “The senator’s been killed by an assassin.”

  “Āiyā! Huàile!” Ed exclaimed. “What about the colonel and the major?”

  “The colonel’s presumed dead,” he told them, “but the major made a run for it with the Xipe Totec.”

  “Thank the Emperor for that, at least,” Ed growled. “Proper officer, the major. Does what needs to be done and to hell with the consequences.”

  “Mount up.” Paul turned for the shuttle. “We’ll get you back to the 488 when we finish down here.”

  “Oh yeah,” Ed called as they followed him to the Gray ship, “Morgan had one other message for you.”

  “Let me guess,” Paul turned to walk backwards. He grinned at the Marine. “I’m an ass?”

  “Close enough,” Ed told him. “He was slightly more specific as to which exact part, but ‘ass’ will do.”

  They climbed aboard, not paying a great deal of attention to Kinsey. They gave surprised nods of recognition to the six Marines from the 488 but, realizing something important was going on, they kept quiet.

  “You morons!” Kinsey seethed. “You want to know how we plan to hold this world? We’ll blow it if the Navy comes anywhere close.”

  “I’d say you’ve already blown it, Romanus,” Paul offered mildly. “You let yourself get captured like a scale-monkey in a water pit.” He looked around the small craft. “Anyone else hungry? There’s a place near here that serves the best green curry…”

  “There’s an antimatter warhead hidden down here!” Kinsey yelled, his face turning crimson. “If it looks like we’re losing a fight in orbit, they’ll blow the warhead. We can’t stay down here.”

  “Right,” Julia answered, nodding in a manner that clearly indicated she wasn’t taking him seriously. “So we need to launch immediately and get caught by the combat fleet patrol.” She chuckled. “You really do think we’re a pack of idiots, don’t you?”

  She turned back to Paul. “You’re thinking of going to Auntie’s, aren’t you?” It was more a statement than a question. You’ve only been here a few days; how the hell did you find the place so quickly?”

  “I know a guy,” Paul told her. “Used to work together on an outer Rim dust-ball called…”

  “I can’t believe you people,” Kinsey blurted. “Even if you think I’m lying, just move us to the next city. We can wait out the battle in Westlock and you don’t need to worry about…”

  “Give it up, Romanus.” Urbica adopted a warning tone. “I’m not leaving till we’ve had lunch. Inspector Grimm’s awakened a c
raving and I mean to see it satisfied.”

  “OK!” He was nearly shouting now. “Forget about leaving Vermillion. I’ll show you where the damn thing is so you can shut it down. Just forget about your damned stomaches for ten minutes!”

  Urbica put a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “What if Kinsey’s telling the truth? It’s bound to happen from time to time, right?”

  Paul sighed. “Fine. It’s your call, Colonel.” He turned away as though disgusted with her gullibility, but he was actually afraid he might start smiling. He was worried he might start everyone laughing and so he had to turn away and master his expression.

  “Where is this convenient bomb of yours?” she demanded.

  “It’s in the old river-city ruins. Near the reactor housing.” His earnest expression was almost too comical. “I swear; it’s really there. We don’t have much time.”

  “Get us back in the air,” she told the pilot. “We need to drop down into the industrial sector and follow the aqueduct into the ruins.”

  The old linear city had been the first Imperial attempt to colonize Irricana. The ambitious plan had resulted in a fifteen kilometer long metropolis following an underground river.

  Eventually, the city would have been long enough to allow orbital flights from different weather systems, but the design was too susceptible to tectonic activity. Several bad quakes had wreaked havoc on the city, shutting down the power plants and flooding the city.

  A previously unknown underground river had been released into the city and a general evacuation had left the world uninhabited for several decades.

  The newer, cone-shaped design was far more resistant to earthquake damage and Vermillion had been built adjacent the site of the original city's surface station.

  Paul followed Urbica to the cockpit, crouching to look out the front windows as the city slipped past them. They dropped below the commercial district and banked to follow a massive concrete-bound river that leapt across the open space. It flowed through the central generator on its way out the other side of the city.

  The pilot brought them down within meters of the rushing water and followed it into a man-made tunnel. After a kilometer of flying on sensors only, they emerged from the darkened tunnel into the dim twilight of the ruins.

  More than thirty stories high, the ruins only showed the top twenty levels. The lower ten had been submerged since the flood, hiding the park areas and docks. They slowed to a hover and stared out into the hazy distance.

  The city stretched out of sight. Massive concrete pillars and cantilevered walkways, grimy with centuries of decay, marched off into the mist. Shafts of light lanced down from broken skylights. Wild avians circled above the flooded area, occasionally diving for fish.

  It would have taken forever to find the antimatter warhead. Fortunately, they had a guide.

  A large circular pipe was releasing a stream of water that was far too small for its diameter. Just below it, a ten-meter-wide cascade of water poured from a crack in the concrete. It fell for eight stories to where it had been wearing a depression in a walkway for centuries.

  Julia pointed. “That outlet looks like a hydro-electric exhaust. Probably the backup power for the containment field. Take us over there.”

  As the small craft lurched into motion, she looked at Paul. “Let’s get Kinsey up here.”

  Paul cut his bindings and dragged him into the cockpit.

  She gestured out the windows. “The generator was over there,” she indicated. “Where’s your bomb?”

  Kinsey aimed a finger. “Down there, through that waterfall.”

  Paul gave him a cuff to the side of the head. “You mean that deep recess with no way in?”

  “We can’t even approach,” Julia added, “with our ship.” She jerked her thumb back toward the passenger area. “Tie this jackass up. I’m too hungry to waste any more time on this.”

  “No!” Kinsey shouted, grasping at Urbica’s shoulder. She shoved him backwards into Paul.

  “Watch it,” he warned, shoving the colonel into a bulkhead.

  “I’m telling you,” Kinsey whined, reaching out for Paul but deciding at the last minute to keep his hands to himself, “it’s in there.”

  “How did you even get it in there?” the pilot asked dubiously.

  “They had a small sledge,” said Kinsey, eager to provide corroborating details. “They rode it through the waterfall and came out after about twenty minutes.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be very far past the water,” Urbica mused, “given how long it would take to unload and activate the thing.”

  Paul went to the side portal and slid it open. Ten feet away, he could see a ledge that led along the side of the recess, passing through the waterfall. It appeared to be roughly a meter wide.

  He backed into the craft and stepped out of his armor. He lined up and made a run for the door. His implant conditioned muscles allowed him to clear the distance with ease, but he slammed into the concrete wall at the back of the ledge and rebounded a step and a half, teetering wildly on the edge.

  After a heart-stopping moment, he regained his balance and leaned against the wall to collect himself.

  Urbica landed in front of him with the grace of a cat. Unlike Paul’s clumsy impact, she’d allowed her limbs to flex and absorb the energy of the landing. She hadn’t even touched the wall at the back of the ledge.

  He stared at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Well, that depends, doesn’t it?” she stood, dusting the grime from her under-armor suit.

  He forced himself to keep his eyes on her face, but he was certain she knew where he wanted his eyes to go. “Depends on what?”

  She leaned in a little, raising one eyebrow. “Ever diffuse an orbital-range remote detonator?”

  “Well… no,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. He had access to the instructions, but doing it for real was a very different beast.

  “Well then, what I’m doing here is saving your dumb ass.” She slid past him and headed for the waterfall.

  Paul had to admit, she had a point. He may have served in the Corps, but he’d been a cop, not a combat operator. He followed her through the water and into the gloomy space behind.

  He looked back at the distorted image of the alien assault shuttle, hoping he’d get the chance to jump back aboard.

  “In here,” Urbica called.

  He looked back in her direction. She nodded at a large opening where the ledge wall simply ended. Optic fibers were still bringing in light from the outside, casting an eerie glow around the foggy interior. Huge piles of debris and office furniture lay everywhere.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she growled. “This room’s got to be at least a thousand square meters. Where do we even start looking?”

  Paul suddenly felt useful. “I may not know anything about diffusing orbital-range remote detonators,” he said, “but finding hidden weapons is kind of my thing.”

  She gestured at the mess. “Alright, detective… let’s see the Emperor’s finest at work.”

  “A little sarcastic,” Paul told her with a good natured grin, “but I suppose it will have to do.” He waved a hand at the closest debris.

  “They’d prefer to keep the sledge above a level surface. No sense risking the cargo tumbling off while angling to get over a pile of junk. It also wouldn’t do to snag something on their way over a pile.”

  He moved to the left. “Only one path from here so it’s very likely they went this way.” They followed the path until it split.

  “You go left,” he said. “I’ll take the right.”

  “If you find it,” she warned, “don’t touch anything, dong ma?”

  He nodded. “Got it.” He turned and headed down his branch of the path. Fifteen meters in, he came to a dead end. He started to turn but something registered in his brain. He turned back to the dead end.

  There was a desk in front of him, standing on end. The top was heavily rusted. He looked around at th
e other debris. Every other metal object was more heavily rusted at the bottom, where gravity pulled the water as quickly as it could condense from the air.

  He grabbed the desk and pulled it out of the way. His skin felt as though he’d wandered into an electrical storm.

  A one-gram antimatter warhead sat brooding in front of him. A box-shaped device with two lifting handles was attached to the side and he assumed it was the remote detonator.

  “It’s over here,” he shouted.

  Urbica came jogging around the corner. She knelt next to the weapon and took a close look at the assembly. “Well, the good news first — it’s just a basic remote.”

  “There’s bad news?” Paul asked, “aside from the presence of an antimatter warhead?”

  “It’ll take a few minutes to reset the safeties.” She leaned in and touched the side of the remote detonator, activating a holo menu.

  Paul fidgeted as he watched her hands dance across the projected screen. Red windows turned green and slid down to the bottom as she worked.

  She stopped suddenly and stared at a new window. “Oh, Hell!” she whispered.

  “Hell?” Paul stepped closer. “What do you mean — Hell? That doesn’t sound good at all.”

  She pointed at the screen. A counter was running down. “Looks like something is happening up there because this thing just went live. It’s going to blow in less than fifty seconds.”

  “How long will it take to finish re-engaging the safeties?”

  “Three minutes.”

  “So… plan B? We have one of those, right? Like a red wire, green wire moment?”

  She stood and pulled out her sidearm. “Standard procedure in a case like this is to abandon all sense and try something desperate.”

  “You’re gonna shoot the remote?” Paul stared at her. “What are the chances?”

  She shrugged. “Fifty-fifty.” She stepped over, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him.

  Paul was stunned. “For good luck?”

  “Nope.” She aimed at the detonator. “Just wanted to do it and, considering the circumstances…” She squeezed the trigger.

  They both stood there for a few seconds, cringing — as if that would help in the event of a detonation. Finally, she reached down and yanked the detonator free of the weapon and tossed it onto a pile of debris.