The IX

by Andrew P. Weston

  “Why do you think they do it?’ Mac was sure the other man was keeping something back. “I’ve only read a brief report on this enemy, the Horde, but from what I can tell, if they got in, they’d drain us all until we were dead, yes?”

  “That’s correct. They gain strength and vitality from a wide variety of energy sources. The human body’s chemical and electrical processes are like a snack to them. While it’s not directly fatal per se, their feeding shuts down the brain and its ability to pass the everyday signals that keep our autonomous systems going. Obviously, without them, we die very quickly.”

  “And what then?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Mac moved through the crowd to position himself in front of the ninth bas-relief. Gesturing to it, he repeated, “And if the Horde do manage to breach the city and kill us all, causing the Reverence to inscribe our names here, on this stone, what then? We’ll all be dead and they’ll have no source of vitality, will they? Will they be trapped here?”

  Mohammed appeared uncomfortable with the question. Taking a deep breath, he glanced toward Ayria, admitting, “We’re not exactly sure . . .”

  Dissatisfied grumbling rumbled through the assembled men.

  Signaling for patience, Mac cut them dead. “Let the man speak!”

  Miraculously, everyone complied.

  Mohammed struggled to find the right words. “What I’m trying to say is, I and a growing number of our strategists think the Ardenese were wrong in their original assessment of the enemy. Because of their single-minded savagery, the Horde was able to overrun thirty planets in twenty-seven star systems in a relatively short period of time. They were relentless, displaying the basest of instincts in their exigency to consume everything in their path. We’re beginning to suspect that urgency hid some form of hive-mind mentality that is not only very astute, but cunning, too.”

  The room remained silent, hanging on every word.

  “Define cunning, and what that has to do with us?” Mac urged, correctly guessing the question on everyone’s lips.

  “The record shows that to reach Arden, some of the Horde hid away on fleeing ships. Many of those vessels had been stationed on the outer colonies and were in flight for over two weeks. Some didn’t return for months, remaining on standby in deep space until called to assist in the ensuing siege. In each case, it wasn’t until they landed on Arden that the enemy finally revealed themselves.”

  “So they can choose to stop feeding?”

  “Yes.”

  “Voluntarily?”

  “It looks that way. They muted their bodies into a condition very similar to hibernation. That’s how they were originally discovered. Suspended in some kind of neural-net that allowed them to exist in an undetectable dream-like state.”

  Mac was intrigued by that information, and turned away, deep in thought.

  “So what happens if they kill us all?” Houston chipped in. “You think they’ll go back to sleep like a pack of bears waiting for someone else to stroll by?”

  “If we lose, we won’t be the last food source they could gain access to.” So quiet was Mohammed’s reply that the men standing at the rear barely heard him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t forget, the Ark’s inside. It contains the remaining essences of the Ardenese people. Men, women, children. Flora. Fauna. All of it. Although it’s protected within an artificially created tear in the space-time continuum, it’s still there. And the Horde might be able to sense it.”

  “Oh, that’s just great!” Exasperated, Houston threw his hands into the air. “We’re trapped in the only diner on the prairie. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. It’s just not —”

  “You’re overlooking something else, too.”

  Everyone’s attention snapped back to Mac. He had the distinct look of someone who had just swallowed something disagreeable. Pointing to the artifacts about them, he explained, “If the Horde is as switched on as you suspect, what makes you think they aren’t after the Tec? They are beings of pure energy, after all. Do they have enough to operate the gateway? A portal to a juicy new world they could manipulate time and time again—no pun intended—to guarantee a never-ending feast of unimaginable proportions.”

  Mohammed and Ayria were clearly shocked. It was plain no one had thought of this strategy before.

  “Is that possible, Mohammed?”Ayria gasped. “Could we have overlooked something this obvious?”

  Mohammed’s jaw flapped open.

  Mac wasn’t finished. “Come to that, doesn’t the Architect have a failsafe fitted to prevent such a calamity? A self-destruct button? Or isn’t that an option while the Ardenese still exist in retro-vitrio? I’ll be damned if I’ll just lie down and die while a bunch of monsters are set free to ravage my world.”

  “It’s something I’ll make sure we look into immediately,” Mohammed mumbled, “thank you for your . . . insight, Lieutenant.” Glancing at the doctor, he shrugged and added, “Its prime function is to protect their species at all costs. God! How did we miss it?”

  “So what about us?” Mac said. “You mentioned earlier we might represent the best hope you’ve ever had. Why? Aren’t you from a more advanced era?”

  “Ayria would be the best one to answer that,” Mohammed replied. “You won’t know it yet, but she’s one of the longest surviving refugees.”

  Stepping to one side, Mohammed allowed Ayria to take center stage again.

  “I’m from the year 3314,” she began. “I was one of over four thousand souls brought here from the Vega Collective, a deep space project studying the viability of Reality-Fold technology. In my time, Earth had been filled to overflowing. The Moon, Mars, and Titan were thriving, self-sustaining, independent municipalities, and mankind had spread throughout our part of the galaxy. Although we’d developed faster-than-light drive centuries before, it wasn’t until we took to the stars that we realized how truly vast space is. Even FTL travel was considered too slow, so we were looking at ways to journey a lot further, much more quickly. Our star-orb, the Discovery, was a self-contained mini-world leading the charge in Reality-Fold design. Unfortunately, we pushed things too far, too quickly. Lucky for us, our flight path took us into the quantum thread employed by the gateway. We were snatched away as the ship exploded, and brought here.

  “On materialization, we arrived with a great deal of salvageable kit. However, our technology proved to be our undoing. It was energy-based, of course. And as the group to arrive before us also discovered to their cost . . . we only made the Horde stronger.”

  Mac frowned. “Hang on a second. So, you weren’t among the first ones here?”

  “No. They were from over millennia into my future, 4450AD to be exact, and had been here for three years by the time we were taken. We thought everything would be all right, especially when we saw their weaponry. But then they told us how many of them had survived the original translation. Five thousand.”

  “And how many did you find?”

  “Just two hundred.”

  “Two hundred? Jesus!”

  “None of them are left now. And of my own group, only one other is still alive.”

  “So how long have you been here?”

  “Eighteen years. It seems those with the highest likelihood of survival are doctors, scientists, or engineers. Obviously, we tend to be kept away from the fighting.”

  A murmur passed through the crowd.

  Mohammed took up the story. “I came through with Commander Cameron on the seventh jump. We’re from the year 2345, and like everyone before us, our weapons were ineffective. The only good point in all this was the fact that several of our technicians were able to reverse-engineer the Discovery’s engines and adapt its null-point energy. Basically, Ayria’s people used it to generate the void through which two points in space can be linked at the sub-quantum level. It’s a very similar principle the Ardenese used to operate the gateway. Most of the drive survived the temporal shift, so we a
dapted it to form an ancillary shield about the city. It taxes our resources severely, but it’s effective, especially as it basically does what the Horde can do. Drain energy. When it’s activated, if any of those monsters attempt to breach the null-field, it disrupts their biometrics to the point of exhaustion. Needless to say, they avoid it like the plague.”

  “Why don’t you just use the shield instead?” Lex asked. “I admit, I don’t understand the principles you’re talking about, even with these nanorobot things in my head. But commonsense tells me, if the enemy is repelled by the mere presence of this special field, wouldn’t it be safer to use it all the time?”

  “It certainly would. But, as I mentioned, it consumes a great deal of power. If we used the shield continually, it would burn out the drive in less than a week. Our reserves would follow about a fortnight after that, even with solar backups. The gate wouldn’t be able to operate, the Ark would malfunction. We’d be at their mercy. That’s why we only use it where the wall’s integrity has been threatened. It gives the fermionic matter time to drain the excess charge away.”

  “I still don’t see how that relates to us.” Mac said. “We don’t have anything near your level of technology. Not that it seems to matter, judging from what you said.”

  “This is where it gets interesting.” Mohammed appeared brighter at last. “We’ve had a bit of a breakthrough. Although we didn’t know it at the time, one of our compatriots from the eighth intake brought a family heirloom through the gate with him. It stayed among his belongings for years, until a few months ago, in fact, when he was forced to use it as a last resort. It . . . unbelievably, it worked. And we’re not exactly sure why.” He walked toward the Reverence. “Regardless, it’s given us more than eight weeks of rest from a foe that has never shown the slightest inkling of stopping. Of course, your arrival here has stirred them up again. They must have sensed you, and the equipment you’ve brought.”

  “What is it about us exactly?” Mac insisted. “We at least deserve to know why we were specifically targeted.”

  “And you will be told, believe me,” Mohammed replied, looking genuinely apologetic, “but Commander Cameron has insisted the tactical briefing wait for tomorrow when all the team leaders are gathered together. Yourselves included. In the meantime, he has authorized me to emphasize why your previous petty disputes and conflicts will now be a thing of the past.”

  Mohammed paused to scan each face before depressing a large orb protruding from the side of the monument. The huge panoramic windows behind the Reverence glided silently into the walls on either side. The room was immediately assailed by the echoes of a nerve-jarring howl of myriad throats roaring in unbridled lust.

  Gesturing toward the bay, Mohammed concluded, “Gentlemen, although we are over two miles from the city wall, come and get your first glimpse of your true enemy.”

  Appalled, they crowded forward.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Possibilities

  Saul Cameron’s gaze roved over the faces of the men and women crowded into the confines of the senior officers’ mess. Despite the significance of what they were hearing, many of them looked numb, especially those from among the less technologically advanced groups of the latest arrivals. Saul had adjusted the minutes of the briefing to take into account their lack of understanding. Nevertheless, things had dragged on.

  He glanced at his watch. Damn. The session’s gone over more than I’d anticipated. Still, it’s served its purpose. With one or two minor amendments, the proposals should be agreeable to everyone and will help them all blend into the larger family.

  Mohammed wound up his discourse regarding the city’s defensive capability. Grabbing the opportunity, Saul skimmed through the list in front of him for the final time. And I know exactly which changes are needed.

  Making one or two adjustments as he went through, Saul couldn’t help but feel smug. The alterations conveyed a sense of symmetry that looked rather elegant. Oh yes. I think I’ve earned myself a shot of the good stuff when this chore has finally ended.

  “Commander?” Mohammed invited Saul to the chair once more.

  “Thank you.” Saul got to his feet and waved the report in the air. “And now to the part you’ve all been waiting for, not least because it’s the final item.”

  A smattering of impromptu cheering and applause circulated the room. As he waited good-naturedly for the joking to die down, Saul stooped to remove something from within his briefcase. Placing it on the table before him, he paused to judge everyone’s mood. He wanted them alert and focused for this last item, and he was glad to see he’d captured their attention, despite their obvious fatigue.

  Judging the time was right, he began. “As you know, up until now we’ve been forced to tolerate a relentless assault that has not only worn us down, but one that has steadily chipped away at our resolve as the years have gone by. Quite by chance, an incident recently occurred which changed all that, and we were granted our first ever respite. Today, I will publicly reveal for the first time why we were given this miraculous break, and what we intend to do with it. Anyone interested?”

  He moved to uncover the mystery item.

  Everyone craned forward.

  His revelation was met with stunned incredulity. Those who had served in Rhomane for years seemed puzzled. An expression closely echoed by almost everyone else in the room. But not all.

  Saul snorted as he caught a look of recognition on several faces. One in particular stood out from the rest. I might have guessed. Ayria said he was sharp.

  “Is that an old Webley .445 break-top revolver?”

  “It certainly is . . . Lieutenant McDonald, isn’t it? Or should I say Mac?”

  “Mac’s fine. Where the hell did you get that? They were antiquated even during my day, in 2052.”

  Saul smiled. “Antiquated? They were relics by my time, but fortunately for us, this one works just fine.”

  “The marvels of solid design, eh? It’s nice to see something of the old British Empire living on. Pip, pip, and all that. But if I might ask, what’s it doing here?”

  Saul lifted the gun into the air and addressed the entire room. “This is indeed a British manufactured Webley pistol from the early twentieth century. World War One vintage to be exact. It was an heirloom belonging to one of our colleagues who, fortunately for us, was from a proud line of soldiers stretching back through umpteen generations to the late nineteenth century. I say fortunately for us, because the family was very particular when it came to their heritage. It seems anything they passed on, be it a weapon, a token, diaries or keepsakes, were all kept in pristine condition. And this was no exception. Simon inherited it from his father and had it in his possession when he was brought to Arden eight years ago. Obviously, he didn’t know what a treasure he had at the time, and stashed it away among his belongings after he settled in here. And there it remained, forgotten, until a couple of months ago.

  “There’s a cave network about ten miles north of Rhomane. We call it the Rainbow Cathedral. It’s full of rough, fist-sized diamonds that the Ardenese use in their gel packs, to regulate the city’s AI systems. We go there from time to time to get replacements for upkeep, maintenance and so forth. We have to keep such trips to a bare minimum so as not to attract the attention of our friends out there. When we do go, we employ a six-man team. Two extractors and four armed watchers in a skimmer craft kitted out with a mobile null-field generator. As we’re still not fully conversant in meshing the different technologies, the portable units aren’t too reliable. Thus the need for secrecy.

  “Anyway, I was part of the last crew. We were on the way back when the shield emitter frizzed out. As we were only two miles from the city at the time, we thought we’d make a run for it. Needless to say, the sudden exposure of the skimmer’s power unit drew the attention of a small group of scavenging Horde. We lost Pete, Michelle, and Dmitri during their first wave. Then Vigor on the second, along with the rest of the weapons. I took over the driving whi
le there was still a little charge left. Simon began rummaging around in his pack. At the time, I wondered what the hell he was doing.”

  Saul held the revolver up even higher. “Turns out he was digging for this. He was always cleaning it. Said it was a waste of time having such a gift if you didn’t look after it properly. Lucky for us he felt that way. When the ghouls swarmed us for the final time, he started firing. The noise was deafening. I remember thinking, you idiot! Why are you wasting your time with that piece of junk? Then the monsters hit us. We crashed. I felt the awful sense of dislocation associated with being drained. All of a sudden, I was bewildered by the silence . . .”

  Saul’s narrative trailed off as he relived the horror of the attack. His eyes came back into focus and his voice took on a softer edge. “He gave his life to save mine. It was blind luck I was there to witness what happened; otherwise we’d have never known. We’d all be doomed. I’ve no doubt about that now.”

  “What did happen?” someone called out from among the crowd.

  Saul depressed a stud and broke the weapon in two. He briefly fiddled with the revolving chamber and removed a tiny object from inside. Grasping it tightly, he held it aloft for them to get a clearer view. “Basically, he screwed them! Simon only managed to let off a few of these rounds before he went down from the shock of their attack. But because the Horde are mostly comprised of energy, the bullets passed right through his attackers, and then disrupted those behind as well. Four exploded instantly as their matrixes were shredded. Several more dissipated as they ran. Apparently, these insignificant bits of metal mess up their ability to maintain a cohesive field.”