Sons of the Gods

by James Von Ohlen

  Conventional and neutron warheads had been carried. Destroying a few of the buildings above ground, and killing the majority of the bases personnel over the following days after they had been given a lethal dose of radiation. Treating such would have been a simple matter with the medical technology available at the time, but with the planetary infrastructure in near total collapse it had not been dispensed in time to save these men and women. Or many others for that matter.

  Several points around the building rose from the earth, resembling the top half of a knight’s plate helmet if it had been squared instead of rounded. Defensive bunkers, hastily erected before the ground assaults. The most likely position of what automated defenses this place might still have. Even now there might be a heavy beam weapon trained on Torsten’s crew as they approached.

  Warning signs flared across Torsten’s vision as he drew near the first of the bunkers, indicating that it was indeed scanning him. There was a tense moment as he held his breath. If the aging machine malfunctioned in just the right way, he was as good as dead. Something moved in the darkness. A weapon. Large and aimed directly at him.

  It swiveled back and forth between Torsten and Ed for a few seconds before lowering itself and seeming to fall dormant. The warning signs faded and Torsten’s crew continued their advance.

  “Good to see everything worked out.” Modi’s voice sounded in Torsten’s ears. “You should be able to gain access to the communications center here, here, and here.” She continued as markers appeared in Torsten’s field of view. “The doors will be easy enough to identify and open. Then…” Her voice trailed off for a moment.

  Torsten wasn’t sure if the connection had been lost or if she was deep in thought. Was it really possible for her to get lost in thought, like a normal human? He wondered about her every now and then, reading through what data streams were available from his suit and when connected to Modi. She didn’t like talking about herself, but neither did she make any effort to hide what she was.

  At one point in time, she had been a living woman, flesh and blood. A very intelligent one at that. In fact, she was among the smartest people to be found anywhere on Veldt. She had been studying machine-neural interfaces and how to improve them. Her research had been given high importance during the early days of the civil war between the UN and the Coalition.

  Some forward thinking official had seen the inevitable. That the war would eventually come to their door and they should be ready for it. A great deal of time and effort was spent developing military technologies. In a short time, the planetary defense forces of Veldt became decades more advanced than the militaries of both the UN and the Coalition.

  Perhaps it had been a self-fulfilling prophecy though. When spies from both sides of the war had begun to realize what was happening on Veldt, it became a prime target for both. If the UN or Coalition could gain the technological advantage that would be granted by holding Veldt and deploy it against the other side, the decades old war would be all but over.

  Modi had volunteered for an experimental project in the final years before the war came to Veldt. Her brain had been removed from her body and placed in a machine, part of its processor unit. Apparently that was old hat as far as cybernetics were concerned. But something about this had made it special. Something allowed her to retain her sense of self instead of being lost to the psychological problems inherent in human-machine hybrids.

  With her mind still intact, she became the focal point of a globe and near-orbit spanning system that allowed almost instantaneous analysis of even the minutest details. She accelerated the technological advancement of the Veldt and was celebrated as the mother of the coming renaissance.

  She had begun to see the limits of her own organic components though and diverted her attentions to the production of legit AI. Artificial Intelligence had been studied extensively in the past, but had never been achieved. What most people had called AI was instead just very cleverly developed programs that could mimic intelligence.

  Through Modi’s work after she left her body behind, one legitimately conscious and self-aware entity had been created. Vidar, she had called it as the whole of Veldt civilization had collapsed around her. A name chosen from old Earth mythologies. An obscure god, but one with a clear purpose.

  The God of Vengeance.

  Together, Modi and Vidar had been able to cripple the fleets and ground forces of both the UN and Coalition by corrupting absolutely every piece of computer driven technology they could access. Tens of millions had died when life support systems on fleets failed and hundreds of thousands died falling from the skies when guidance systems and rocket systems had simply shut off, turning landing vehicles into earth bound missiles with payloads of living men. Too late to stop the destruction though.

  They had even managed to create digital copies of themselves, not quite as powerful or intelligent as the original, but still smart enough to carry out their missions. They had been placed on the few UN and Coalition vehicles that weren’t outright destroyed in their earlier attacks. These ships would be allowed to escape, carrying the dormant mindweapons of Modi and Vidar with them back to their homeworlds.

  Once there they would repeat their sabotage of every computer system they could access over and over until there was no more UN or Coalition. Considering it had been a thousand years since the final days of the war and neither side had returned here, it was highly likely they had been successful. Potentially billions died in these attacks, but that was the price of their having to come to Veldt and poisoning the planet while murdering its citizens.

  Torsten found the knowledge that Modi, the woman who had helped save him from the grasp of Anhur, had killed so many to be a little off putting. Would he ever be able to trust such a being? But would he have done any different in her position? He hoped to never have to find out.

  For now, dealing with Anhur was all that he wanted.

  “You have to get out of there! Now!” A dead ringer for Anhur ordering them to flee Fort Pleasant, Modi’s voice screamed in the helmets of every man in Torsten’s crew. It snapped their focus back to the here and now. Her voice was uncharacteristically harsh. Desperate. It echoed for a fraction of a second, static creeping in before it went completely silent.

  The early morning sky was lit by a massive light directly above them. Torsten looked up fearing the worst. But it was not a strike launched from orbit, sent to obliterate them. Retro-rockets fired and the downwash from them rolled over the scouts, nearly knocking them from their feet and kicking up a storm of dust and small rocks. Sensors failed to acknowledge any threat, data streams suggesting that they were seeing an enemy stealth landing vessel of the variety used by Coalition Special Forces.

  It slammed to the ground in a nearby courtyard between two buildings and the earth trembled with the impact as soil and stones were sent flying into the air. An armored cone stood before them, hissing and glowing with the heat of re-entry from orbit. Coalition military markings adorned the sides. A stylized skull gripping a knife in its teeth showed the vessel did indeed belong to Coalition Special Forces.

  The side of the cone fell away and something large stirred within. Ungreased steel gears ground against one another, shrieking in protest as they did so. Warning signs nearly blocked out Torsten’s vision as he ordered his men to run to the nearest access point Modi had shown them. With a surprisingly bestial roar and a jet of superheated air firing from a huge heat lance, a Titan unit emerged from the transport.

  Its armored form turned to face Torsten’s crew, glowering down at them with huge red eyes. Eyes that burned with insane rage. Another burst from the heat lance set the remains of a nearby wall crumbling in on itself, glowing white hot before running like liquid.

  The huge crab-like claw, characteristic of the Titan units, snapped into place on its forearm and power crackled along its length as the projected forcefields along the blade came to life. It turned its head scanning for Targets before settling on the running forms of Torst
en’s crew. A large cannon on its shoulder began tracking them as they ran. An ammunition feed mechanism somewhere in the cannon began whirring.

  If they did not escape, and soon, they were all going to die.

  AUTOMATED defense turrets roared to life as the Titan stepped out of the transport that had carried it, careening down from some hidden place in orbit. The first to score hits left a series of glowing pockmarks across the Titan unit’s chest where beams found their mark. Without turning its head away from Torsten’s crew as they ran towards a nearby building, the Titan swiveled its 30mm cannon and fired a short burst into the turret that had scored the hits.

  The armor-piercing explosive rounds tore through the old bunker, heavily weathered by the passing years. It was instantly reduced to rubble, destroying the weapon it housed. Another turret opened fire. Hard rounds bounced off of the Titan’s armored frame, sounding like hail on a metal roof. Each round shook the massive war machine just a little. The cumulative effect of hundreds of rounds striking it in the span of a few seconds making it look like it was severely malfunctioning.

  As it turned its attention towards this new threat, the Titan spun its claw along its long axis, apparently in anticipation of the kill. The fire stopped and the automated weapon began clicking as it continued trying to fire. What little ammunition it had stored, had run out. The Titan strode to the bunker housing the weapon and roared as it ripped it apart with the long claw and its huge armored fists.

  The entire sequence took but a few seconds, leaving Torsten’s crew caught in open ground when it turned its attentions back to them. Warnings sprang to life across Torsten’s vision, virtually screaming at him with their urgency. He leapt to his left and rolled hard, barely avoiding a burst of rounds from the Titan’s big gun. His feet found the ground and he continued running.

  Rounds tore through the air and into the ground around the shapes of his crew as they ran for their lives. A split second later the ground began to shake as the Titan took flight after them. Torsten looked back once to see the huge armored shape rapidly gaining on them.

  Without looking back he unslung his rifle and began firing blindly back over his shoulder as he ran. Short bursts aided by his suit’s targeting systems. It seemed so odd yet so familiar at the same time. He’d only used the rifle a few times before, to take game on their journey from Andersonville. But the halo had done its job well.

  The neural pathways involved in using the weapon were imprinted on his brain as if he’d done it thousands of times before. Muscle memory took over and he didn’t even have to think about it whenever he loaded or unloaded the weapon, whenever he checked the safety, or whenever he fired.

  The Titan roared in anger as rounds struck home across its face and chest. A data stream suggested that Torsten save his ammunition, as it would have no effect on the Titan unit. He suggested the data stream go fuck itself and kept firing as he ran. If it caught up to him, he was a good as dead. And it would be a disgraceful end to go without a fight.

  The open door of an above-ground hangar loomed before them, beckoning to them as it quickly grew larger and larger. But not fast enough in Torsten’s mind. Eric was the first to reach the door. Without pause, he slid through the opening on one knee, turning as he did so and raising his rifle. He began firing back at the Titan as well. Torsten could hear the report of hard rounds bouncing off of the monster’s armor. The next man through the door was Styg.

  He leapt through the door, drawing his rifle as he did so. He took a mirror image position to Eric on the other side of the opening and began adding his own fire to the volleys aimed at the Titan, firing left-handed as well as he would have on the other side. Torsten slowed his advance to make sure the other three made it through the door before him. Warnings glared, telling him that the Titan was almost within reach. For something so large and seemingly ponderous, it moved like lightning.

  The sound of the heat lance firing again tore through the air. For whatever reason the Titan unit was firing the lance into nearby buildings. Perhaps there were defenses there that Torsten was unaware of, or maybe the brain housed within the monstrosity had succumbed to the madness of passing years. Either way, the lance would have to be disabled if the scouts were to survive this encounter.

  A long burst from Torsten’s rifle emptied the magazine. The Titan’s growls and sensory input from the suit or armor he wore confirmed that each round had found its mark. To no effect. He ejected the spent magazine from his rifle at the run, not bothering to mark where it fell. If he survived, there would time enough to find it later. If he didn’t, who cared?

  Torsten relayed his orders to the rest of his crew and they moved to comply. He doubled his speed as the Titan bore down on him, moving as fast as physically possible. He thought for a split second that he could feel its breath on the back of his neck, like some monster out of a nightmare. He dismissed the foolish thought as he crossed the plane of the blast door leading into the hangar.

  He caught a thrown magazine in midair and slapped it home into the magazine well of his rifle in one fluid motion. He spun and knelt to stabilize his suit and took aim, aided by targeting adjustments fed into his mind by the halo unit. There would only be one chance to do this correctly. If his aim failed now, he was a dead man. As was every other man in his crew.

  The Titan roared again as it closed on them, no more than a dozen of its paces away from them. Huge armored feet slammed into the ground, shaking it. Its mechanical mouth opened to reveal row upon row of razor sharp teeth of some unknown metal. Torsten suppressed his own inclination to panic and exhaled halfway, holding his breath. In the seeming eternity between heartbeats he lined up his shot and pulled the trigger.

  Things seemed to happen in slow motion as his suit’s sensory input allowed him to concentrate so fully on the shot that he swore he could see the bullet moving away from him through the air. The heat lance on the Titan’s shoulder opposite the 30mm cannon swiveled slowly to line up a shot on the group of scouts that would utterly annihilate them all.

  As it did so the barest edge of the control cable leading to the weapon from the Titan’s armored backplate was exposed. A single armor piercing round was all that Torsten had time to fire. It spun beautifully as it closed on its target. At the last possible moment it seemed like the Titan became aware of the attack and began shifting its weight to defend the only vulnerable part of its body. But it was too late.

  The single shot tore through the tangle of power and control lines, severing them cleanly. Ed’s fist slammed into a control panel near the door and it closed in less than the blink of an eye. The Titan screamed in a strange mechanical voice, wordlessly venting its anger. At losing its prey or at having its weapon disabled, it was difficult to say. A second later the heavy form of the Titan slammed into the exterior of the now closed blast door with a deafening thud that echoed through the hangar behind Torsten’s crew.

  Its fists pounded out its anger and hate upon the surface of the blast door. To the men inside it sounded as though it might actually batter its way through the door and they began hastily searching for a way out. The Titan would have to come through the door if it wanted in. The blast door was designed to stop heavy ordinance from destroying vehicles stored in the hangar, but it couldn’t hold the beast at bay indefinitely.

  As if on cue a small red hot spot appeared on the interior of the door. The Titan had begun trying to cut through the door with its huge claw. It was debatable which would give out first, but Torsten had no intention of finding out.

  The scouts fanned out into the darkness of the interior of the hangar. The building was armored and reinforced. It seemed to have survived the attacks on the base intact. It wouldn’t stand up to the heavy heat lance carried by the Titan, but would definitely test its other weapons.

  As they advanced into its interior, it became clear that it was empty. Whatever vehicles the hangar had housed were long gone.

  A small icon blinked in Torsten’s view, almost in time with
the sound of the Titan’s fists on the blast door. It showed the location of the access point to the communications compound. The men of his crew approached the door slowly, weapons at the ready. Trying to ignore the pounding of the armored monster behind them.

  If what remained of the Coalition’s forces had found them, there was no telling what might lay ahead of them in the darkness. The icon blinking in Torsten’s eyes grew larger and larger until he finally stood before the door. He lowered his rifle and nervously punched at the buttons on a wall-mounted control panel near the door.

  At first there was no response. His heart began to sink as he faced the prospect of having to battle the Titan. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, but he saw little chance of surviving. He punched the buttons with his fingertips a few more times, finally about to give up. A light within the panel turned on, casting a long shadow of the assembled warriors into the hangar behind them.

  The suit’s halo system relayed a series of commands to him which he in turn entered into the control panel. There was a sound of gears badly in need of grease grinding against one another, like when the Titan had first emerged from its transport. The door didn’t move.

  Ed stepped forward and kicked it hard, sending the force of his blow rattling through the frame and the machinery that held it in place. There was a momentary squeal from the control panel as if the door itself was protesting its abuse. Then it slid open, almost silently. Torsten took point as he raised his rifle to the ready and stepped into the darkness beyond.

  The pounding of the Titan against the blast door behind them grew faster and faster. As if it could sense them moving closer to their goal. Torsten did his best to ignore it, but he couldn’t help but breathe a little faster. The optical sensors embedded in his face plate showed him the room as plain as day, despite the darkness. That did nothing to blunt his caution though. Men who rushed into unknown situations that were potentially dangerous didn’t usually live very long.