by Craig Allen
Cody needed a moment to realize what he was seeing. “It’s a birthing pool.”
Sonja put her hand to her mouth. The toads created baby toads by depositing genetic material into a pool, usually done when they defecated. That genetic material would eventually form into tadpoles. The dried-up pool on the viewer was filled with tadpole bodies.
Stripe’s image reappeared on the viewer.
We find many such places and ask other dead-eaters who see the same.
From what Cody had observed, of the hundreds of tadpoles that wandered out of the toad birthing pools, only a few managed to reach adulthood. The toads never cared for their young, but to abandon their birthing pools altogether seemed wrong, even by toad standards.
“And you’ve spoken to others like yourself?” Cody didn’t want to say carrion eaters though he was sure the flier wouldn’t mind. He never had gotten used to the idea. “Has anyone seen any toads at all?”
No predators and no pools.
“Have any others disappeared?” Cody asked.
No only predators vanish all others where they should be.
Cody took a deep breath. The development was disturbing, to say the least. It was like every human on Earth leaving the planet at once. They wouldn’t have done it without a very good reason—or a very bad one.
“All right,” Cody said at length. “Thank you. If you see a toad, tell them we are angry and wish to speak with them.”
Stripe’s head leaned back in an almost human movement.
They have broken rules?
“Yes,” Cody said.
We send word of your anger.
“Good. And be careful.”
The flier’s head bobbed, then the image vanished from the HUD as the fliers disconnected.
“You got some ugly friends, Doc,” Hayes said.
Cody only nodded, lost in thought. Between the attack in the cluster and the missing toads on Kali, Cody wondered if every toad on the planet had simply vanished, along with the people from the missing hopper. None of it made sense.
“Contacts!” Sonja brought up gravimetric readings on the HUD. “Ten total.”
“They’re coming from behind the planet,” Hayes said. “The hell? Why didn’t we see them before?”
Chapter Thirteen
“Battle stations.” The XO repeated the command, and alarms sounded across the bridge.
Admiral Rodriguez dutifully ignored them as the ten ships entered weapons range. Shit. Just like two months ago.
“Bring tacs and grasers on line.” Rodriguez kept his tone even, as if what was about to happen was completely routine. Even a little bit of excitement in his voice could put people on edge when he needed them focusing on their jobs. “Take us to one eight zero by two two five. Lead bogeys away from the incoming hopper.”
“Aye, Admiral,” the helmsman said.
A tactical display appeared on the main viewing globe, showing a three-dimensional representation of the Washington, the planet, and the ten vessels approaching rapidly from the other side of the planet. He pulled up a cross section at his own station, confirming what he already knew. The ships were copies of the original Kali.
“Tacs online,” the weapons officer said. “I have a firing solution on the two lead ships.”
Rodriguez half smiled. Space was his home, not theirs. “Fire.”
Inside the Washington, nobody felt the launch of the tactical torpedoes though their detonations would certainly be felt by the approaching ships. Two dozen icons appeared on tactical. Each dot represented a torpedo, and they closed quickly with the lead ships. Fortunately, the incoming hopper was still millions of miles away.
“Five seconds to intercept,” the weapons officer said.
“Very good.” Rodriguez prayed the engagement would be over soon.
Maybe the toads hoped they could catch the Washington by surprise, but Rodriguez knew better. The toads were too smart for that. They had something else in mind, and that unknown was giving him fits.
Icons vanished on the viewing globe. “They’re engaging with point-defense grasers.” The weapons officer’s voice rose in volume. “Sixty percent down.”
Rodriguez grimaced. That was too many. The last time they had fought the toads, their countermeasures weren’t nearly as accurate.
“Bring us to one nine five by two one zero,” he said. “Put us at full burn for five seconds then kill all engines.”
“Aye, sir,” the helm said. “On course. Killing engines in five.”
It was an old trick, but the toads were still new to the whole idea of space combat. Putting the sun at the Washington’s back would make the approaching ships’ lidar give false readings, and with engines at zero burn, they wouldn’t be picked up on gravimetrics. In order for the ships to get a lock on the Washington, they’d have to get in close. The problem was the closer the toads got, the less time the Washington had to shoot their torpedoes out of the sky, and vice versa.
“Keep lidar offline,” Rodriguez said. “No active scans. Wait for them to get within fifty thousand klicks, then fire as you have solutions.”
“Aye, sir,” the weapons officer said.
The tactical display showed the Kali ships at three hundred thousand kilometers. At their velocity, the Kali ships would have to do a flyby, then they’d be out of range. They could reverse their burn, but that would make them an obvious target. Whatever they decided to do, it would happen soon.
A klaxon sounded, followed by Dr. Donaldson’s voice. “Attention, this is sick bay. Intruder alert. Intruder alert. All hands, Private Ann Salyard is to be apprehended on sight.”
Rodriguez struggled to keep from pounding his command desk. The other shoe just dropped. None of what was happening was a coincidence. The real question was how the toads coordinated it all, but at the moment, that was the least of his worries.
“Contact engineering,” he said. “Tell them to prepare for an intruder.”
Another alarm sounded. “Intruder in engineering! All hands, we have an intruder in engineering.”
“Damn it.” Rodriguez pulled up the security viewers on his command desk. “All hands, shoot the intruder on sight. I say again, shoot to kill.”
If anyone heard him, they didn’t acknowledge, and he could see why. In the center of his viewer, a woman fought three men. She tossed them aside as if they were nothing. Someone drew a coil pistol, and the intruder faced him.
“Shit.” He activated ship-wide comm. “All hands—”
His vision went white in an explosion so jarring it knocked Rodriguez to the ground. His head swam, but he managed to stay conscious, at least. Every single person on the bridge had been knocked down while red lights flashed across consoles, as if everything was broken.
~~~
Cody felt the blood drain from his face. An orange fire erupted from the Washington’s starboard aft section. Seeing actual fire in space usually happened with a fusion process, and from the size of the explosion, one or more fusion bottles had burst and the whole section had vented into space, along with the air and the people present. A good third of the ship was gone, including most of engineering and her drive plates.
“Seal your suits.” Hayes pressed a button on his collar, and his helmet folded into place.
Cody did the same just as gravimetrics lit up the HUD.
“Torpedoes homing in on Washington,” Sonja said. “Impact in ten. Jesus, Washington’s not tracking.”
“Either point defense is down, or they’re still dizzy from the boom,” Bodin said.
“We have to do something,” Cody said.
“With what?” Hayes said. “The tacs on this thing ain’t big enough, and we used up two of them back in the cluster. But even if we had a full complement of torpedoes, we couldn’t take on ten battle cruisers.”
“More contacts,” Sonja said. “Three two five by zero three five, half a million klicks away.”
The HUD zoomed in on the area. Fourteen vessels appeared, all of a Kali
design. Where they came from, though, Cody had no idea. He watched helplessly as they proceeded to flank the Washington.
Explosions erupted all along the Washington’s port side, sending the massive warship reeling. The fact anything remained was a miracle, but Cody knew before long nothing would remain.
~~~
Admiral Rodriguez struggled to stand. He wasn’t about to die flat on his back.
Bulkheads had collapsed, leaving very little of the bridge left, and considering the bridge was deep inside the Washington, most of the outer sections were likely gone as well. Rad readings were off the chart. He was going to die, either from another hit or from radiation poisoning.
“All hands.” His voice was barely above a whisper over the comm, thanks to the broken ribs. “Abandon ship. I say again, all hands abandon ship.”
He prayed they’d get away, but the damage was catastrophic. He activated his console with his one working hand, entered his security code, and ejected the ex-mat core into the sun. Tactical, which still worked, miraculously, showed an additional fourteen ships. Torpedoes fired from all twenty-four vessels, and with the Washington’s fire control down, every one of them would hit their target.
“It’s been an honor,” he said to the bodies lying across the bridge then hung his head. Two hundred years was a long time for anyone, and he had heard of worse deaths.
~~~
Cody shielded his eyes as the last of the Washington’s fusion reactors exploded. The light lasted for several seconds, like a new sun in Kali’s sky. When it faded, no sign of the warship was left.
No one said anything for a long time. Cody found he was gripping the edge of his seat, and only with effort could he release it. So many of the crew of the Washington had remembered him from his orbital drop days and had asked for his autograph. He’d gotten to know a few of them pretty well, like Dr. Donaldson and, of course, Admiral Rodriguez.
They were all gone. And everyone in the hopper was likely next on the chopping block.
Tears were still streaming down Sonja’s face as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “What do we do now?”
The gravimetric sensors showed several of the ships converging around the remains of the Washington, but a new set of readings appeared, followed by red arrows glowing on the HUD, pointing at the hopper’s port side.
“Shit!” Hayes grabbed the stick, and the hopper swerved. “Someone’s firing grasers at us!”
“Who?” Bodin leaned over Cody just as the planet loomed into view. Against the yellow sky, half a dozen ships appeared. They weren’t Kali vessels like those swarming the Washington’s remains like vultures. They were much smaller and far more agile.
“Banshees,” Hayes said. “Hoppers like us, maybe from those Kali ships or from the planet. You clowns better buckle up back there.”
“Hold tight, Egg.” Bodin was already strapped in. “Shit’s gonna get bad.”
Cody’s seat straps locked down automatically, enveloping him.
Sonja swiped at her console, and the weapon system appeared. On the hopper’s HUD, a vessel was highlighted, and Sonja fired. In the distance, the hopper brightened in color then exploded in a fireball.
“Grased one,” Sonja said. “Five more to go.”
“We ain’t staying to fight.” Hayes jerked the stick, scooting the hopper along the upper surface of the atmosphere. “We’re getting the fuck out of Dodge before—”
“Contact,” Sonja said. “Torpedo inbound. Ten seconds.”
“Then shoot it down, Gunny.” Hayes pushed his hand against the throttle as if he could push it through the canopy and get that much more speed.
Cody could do nothing but watch the torpedo highlighted on the HUD as Sonja tried to grase it. Three shots missed, but the fourth hit the target. The torpedo vaporized in a flash.
“Not bad, Gunny,” Hayes said. “Now, let’s—”
The hopper shuddered, and sparks danced across the canopy. An alarm flashed on the HUD, and Sonja brought up a camera aft, just in time to see the Daedalus collar break away in pieces.
“They don’t give up, do they?” No sooner had Hayes spoken than the hopper shuddered again. “Oh shit.”
Air rushed out of the hopper into the cockpit and then into space—along with Hayes. His body ripped out of his seat, and first his helmet slipped through the hole in the canopy then the rest of him as the hole grew wider. Hayes’s helmet popped off, then his arms flailed as he was stuck halfway in and out of the hole, then he dislodged completely, vanishing into space.
Cody’s body wrenched in his seat as the air rushed out of the hopper. He tried to hold on to something, convinced his straps would give way, but as soon as the wind started, it stopped. The blast plate fell into place and locked, sealing the hole in the canopy, and the hopper repressurized. Through the entire ordeal, Cody didn’t hear a sound through his suit.
Cody leaned forward into the cockpit, half expecting, half terrified, that Sonja was gone as well. To his relief, Sonja still sat in the copilot’s seat, but Lieutenant Hayes had died in one of the worst ways imaginable.
Sonja hesitated for the briefest of seconds then grasped the controls and pointed the hopper at the planet. Cody barely had time to process the sudden loss of Hayes when the HUD lit up, tracking graser fire on their position.
Bodin muttered something that sounded like a prayer then spoke aloud. “What’s the plan, Gunny?”
The planet spun in the canopy as Sonja dodged more graser fire. “We’re going in the drink.”
“The ocean?” Cody asked. “Last time we had a hopper in the water was two months ago. It flooded.”
“That’s because the hopper was damaged,” Sonja said.
Bodin pointed at the blast plate. “The fuck do you call that?”
“I call it an airtight seal,” Sonja said.
Cody couldn’t take his eyes off the spinning ocean. “Won’t they follow?”
“Not if I can help it,” Sonja said. “Cody, I could use some help.”
Bodin shrugged. “I don’t know shit about what goes on up there, Egg. You been up there more than me.”
Cody undid his straps and jumped into the cockpit, trying to ignore the sky spinning in the distance despite the artificial gravity inside the hopper stabilizing the g-forces of the hopper’s maneuvers. “What do you need me to do?”
“Bring up fire control.” Sonja spoke through gritted teeth. “Right side.”
The symbol for the weapon’s console flashed before Cody. He waved his hand through the three-dimensional image, and the weapons console materialized before him.
“Forget the grasers.” Sonja pointed at the lidar on the HUD, where five icons displayed, each one a hopper. In the distance, the planet grew closer, nearly filling the view through the canopy. “Detonate our remaining tacs in the center. We should have two left. We might not get them all, but we can delay them enough to get out of their range, at least.”
“Got it.” Cody pulled up the symbol for a torpedo, and the tac display appeared before him. “Reading two tacs left.”
Fire control was pretty straightforward. Two months before, Badger had shown him while they were patrolling the planet… just moments before he died. Point at a place on the display, set the distance, and launch. The pursuing hoppers were within fifty kilometers of one another, which was pretty close. A tactical torpedo detonated among them would be devastating.
Cody touched the dead center of the closing hoppers and patched in the distance. The fire button lit up, and he passed his hand over it.
The hopper trembled briefly as the tacs fell to the sides of the hopper, rotated one hundred eighty degrees, and went to full burn. They vanished in a split second. The hopper’s gravimetrics tracked the torpedoes and gave a countdown.
“Five seconds,” Cody said.
The trailing hoppers started to peel away, but they were too late to reach a safe distance. A bright light lit up the sky behind them, as if a sun had exploded suddenly, which
was not far from the truth. Gravimetrics read nothing behind them.
“Nice fucking shot, Egg,” Bodin said. “Did we get ’em?”
“Not hanging around to find out.” As the outer edges of the hopper glowed, Sonja dove into the atmosphere at angles likely not taught in piloting school.
“You gonna burn us up, Gunny,” Bodin said.
“You don’t like it, you can drive.”
Cody checked the gravimetrics, ignoring the ocean rushing toward them—nothing, other than the one-point-two g’s of Kali itself. That could mean the hoppers chasing them were dead or had shut down on their own for whatever reason. That also meant no one else was in range.
Including anyone who might rescue them.
Chapter Fourteen
Cody’s eyes fluttered open. His sleep had been surprisingly calm, given the circumstances. He checked the time. Barely five hours had passed, and less than twenty-four hours had passed since the Washington was destroyed.
All those people… He couldn’t stop thinking about it. The Washington had a crew of… Cody wasn’t entirely sure. The number must have been over a thousand. A thousand people had died in the blink of an eye… and one right in front of his eyes. And if they weren’t careful, they’d be next. Sonja would be next. Just thinking about her body burning in space or being torn to pieces by a toad filled him with shock and horror, so much so he wanted to—
Cody pushed all that aside. He couldn’t dwell on those thoughts, not if they were going to get out in one piece.
He forced himself to relax as much as was possible, given the surroundings, and focused on the blast plate that had slammed down on the port side of the hopper. Nothing was leaking. There was that, at least.
