The IX

by Andrew P. Weston

  “I haven’t really had time for it yet, Mohammed. We’ve been working round the clock, trying to establish an acceptable network between our systems and the onboard AI program, Serovai. Although she’s recognized us as ‘friends-not-foe,’ her inbuilt safety protocols are preventing a full system power up. Brent and Asa are communicating with her now, via mind-mesh interface, but even with the Architect to back them up, it’s slow going. I’ll be glad when the Shilette Abyss crew finally returns. I’m going to ask you to send that computer expert up to assist us. What’s her name? Sebbi Fary?”

  “Sebbi Farah,” Mohammed corrected, “and she’s not here yet. The mining team ran into a hitch, which is why I’m contacting you. We need your help.”

  “That’s unfortunate. In what way?”

  “They were ambushed by a contingent of Horde Masters. And before you say it, I know. We hardly see sight nor sound of them for years, and now a whole bunch of them lead a surprise attack. Anyway, our lads and lasses have managed to hold their own, especially against the run-of-the-mill variety we’re used to, but they could do with a hand to send the Controllers packing. A squadron of flyers equipped with micro-gravity mines is on the way there as we speak, but they’re still ten minutes out. That’s far too long. I was hoping you could use the Arch of Winter’s transporter system to lock onto the drones and push them along a bit. What do you think?”

  “Good idea. I’ll speak with Serovai and see what I can do.”

  Ephraim moved out of picture.

  While he waited, Mohammed turned back to study the casualty list. The computer was dividing the inventory into three columns. Those who were dead, critically injured, or receiving treatment. Skimming through the growing number of fatalities, he recognized too many people he knew well, and was forced to bite back his anger.

  Come on. Hurry up!

  Ephraim’s visage reappeared.

  “Good news. Although temperamental, Serovai won’t dither when she recognizes a true enemy. She has released targeting scanner locks and is awaiting the rough coordinates for transport.”

  “Hang on a second . . . .” Mohammed checked the tactical map once more. “The drones will be easily recognizable to her as they’re equipped with Ardenese transponders. If she focuses her efforts on an area roughly twenty-five to thirty miles southeast of Rhomane’s starport, she should pick them up. They are to be jumped to this location.” Mohammed sent a twelve-digit grid reference. “Ask her to act quickly. Time is of the essence.”

  He turned from the monitor. “Serena? Link us in to the lead flyer of the backup pod. I want to see what’s happening.”

  “On it, Boss.”

  The main wall-screen burst to life, showing a rapidly rolling vista of hills and valleys from a height of about two hundred feet. Before it, looming ever closer, a dark splotch signified the presence of distant forests. The signal abruptly broke off. The monitor went blank, and the sound of static filled the control room with a deafening hiss.

  Moments later, the connection was reestablished. A picture resolved into the stark contrast of a wide asphalt road randomly dotted with people and vehicles, bordered by scrubland on both sides.

  The alpha flyer came to an immediate halt while its onboard computer reassessed its new position. The edge of the screen turned red and a filter rolled into place across the camera. A series of cryptic commands scrolled down one side of the readout as the lead drone distinguished human friendlies from Horde targets. Within seconds, it started issuing orders for an attack. A multitude of dark shapes dropped from the sky and began bombing runs.

  Within the control room, everything went quiet.

  Sporadic gunfire continued to zing about at ground zero as the Masters reluctantly retreated. As yet, no one in the human cavalcade had realized a fresh wave of support was descending from above.

  That abruptly changed.

  From Mohammed’s perspective, the panorama fractured inward at multiple points, as if a smattering of raindrops had been sprayed across the flyer’s lens. Those Bosses closest to the deformities were seized by opposing tidal forces, and were mercilessly stretched and compressed in rapid succession.

  Black voids bloomed into view at the exact center of every anomaly, quickly followed by a wash of spiraling vortexes.

  Blazing flares marked the departure of a number of the more alert Masters. Several others were not so fortunate. Too late, they summoned their portals to escape. The conflicting gravities generated by the quantum mines prevented the gateways from stabilizing. Unable to find a proper anchor in spacetime, the rifts shredded, adding their potential to an already volatile mix.

  For a brief moment, the wildly contorting creatures were captured in photonegative agony, caught between reality and oblivion. Then their thresholds were ripped apart, and they exploded in a flash of blinding light.

  A series of inverse shockwaves slammed together. Swelling, they intensified into a glowing maelstrom before refracting away in a secondary blast. Dirt, scrub, and a number of smaller objects could be seen billowing outward. Everyone within a quarter mile radius was swatted to the floor, as if felled by a massive sucker punch. Nearby trees swayed under the influence of hurricane-force winds, only to snap back moments later as air rushed in to fill the vacuum created by the explosion.

  An eerie calm descended.

  “Did you see that, Ephraim?” Mohammed asked.

  “Yes! Yes, I did. And I really don’t know how to respond.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m the one who has to think of something appropriate to say. Although once we discover the full cost of today’s opening gambit by our fiery friends, the commander’s bound to want my head on a pike.”

  Mohammed sighed deeply before continuing. “But do express my thanks to Serovai. Her assistance was most timely, and gratefully received.” He was drawn to the casualty list once more. “Actually, seeing as she’s in a good mood, would you mind asking her if she’s willing to transport a medical relief crew out on site? We’ve got people injured out there. Dead and dying. Time is of the essence.”

  “Of course I will. Anything to help . . . Oh!”

  “What?”

  “It would appear Serovai automatically linked in to our command system when she transferred the flyers. She’s been listening in, and has already assessed the situation. This is her recommended response.”

  Ephraim transferred the AI’s suggestions to Mohammed’s desk. “When your teams are ready, she’ll begin transporting them out to the highway.”

  “Thank you, Ephraim. That’ll be all.”

  Stunned, Mohammed activated the report and perused its contents.

  She’s a lot more proactive than the Architect. I wonder why that is?

  He yelled, “Serena. I’m sending you a list of protocols to be implemented immediately. Patch through to the Arch of Winter’s AI program and initiate the deployment, will you? Doctor Solram is to be beeped, and is to oversee the disposition of her emergency triage unit. Notify Sub Commander De Lacey she’s in overall command of the recovery itself. Oh, and alert Lieutenant McDonald, too. His team is always good in a crisis and can provide cover until the area has been cleared. Apologize to everyone on my behalf for my absence. I’m stuck here, delivering bad news.”

  With that, Mohammed turned his attention to a growing list of pain.

  Incident Command System — Mass Casualty Index — Report Form ARC-SeT-1

  Citizens currently confirmed as deceased:

  Adam Wainwright (Mil-Sergeant)

  Amelius Tacitus (Mil-Decarus)

  Amrita Bahlrati (Civ-Medic)

  Andrew Palmer (Civ-Mech)

  Anthony Bragg (Civ-Sci)

  Claudius Vergilius (Mil-Optio)

  Cora Vasquez (Civ-Sci)

  Drusus Valerus (Mil-Leg)

  Edward Black (Civ-Mtc)

  Joseph Black (Mil-Trooper)

  Leonard Tam (Civ-Eng)

  Lucius Flavius (Mil-Leg)

  Matthew Keegan (Civ-Sci)

&
nbsp; Publius Martialis (Mil-Decarus)

  Quintus Fabius (Mil-Leg)

  Samuel Buchanan (Mil-Trooper)

  Shuji Tadako (Civ-Sci)

  Stefan Hollander (Civ-Driver)

  Terri Hollander (Civ-Driver)

  Thomas Grahame (Mil-Trooper)

  Tiberius Cenus (Tesserarius)

  Zebedee Jones (Mil-Trooper)

  Awaiting further command entry . . .

  Hold.

  Incoming data . . .

  *

  Angule’s essence flickered between deepest violet and midnight blue, a sure sign he teetered on the verge of cataclysmic expression. Exercising heroic self-control, he managed to strengthen his matrix and swallow down the boiling energies that seethed for release.

  Why was I not kept abreast of this development? I am the Prime Catalyct of the Unium. Planning and strategy fall to me.

  That, I cannot say, Battlemaster, Lega’trix Saffir replied: But from what I surmised, it was not a deliberate slight. Circumstance itself may have conspired against us.

  Explain.

  You know how Vetis has surrounded himself with lackeys. They plot. They counsel. Bolstering each other’s spirits as they feast on their vanities. By all accounts, it was a chance encounter by Tribunus Desh that led to the confrontation. As everyone is aware, she is sensitive to the tones emitted by the bane-metal. She was simply engaged in an orbital of the vext network when she perceived a threat to our codex. Although distant, it tugged at the fringes of her capacity. She went to investigate. From the boasting Vetis and his cabal are currently spreading, Desh discovered a caravan of humans on the main road near to the borders of the green expanse. One of their traveling craft appeared disabled, and its shields had weakened while they undertook repairs. It was full of . . . what do the humans call it? Iron ore. Instead of attacking, she expressed supreme restraint and thought to notify Imperator Vetis. It was he who gathered all available Trianium from the spaceport, and together with those of his faction who were present, Vetis sped to intercept the convoy as it returned to the city. Obviously, because of the danger to our codex, he ensured his Lega’trexii and Tribuni led the assault before unleashing the children of the third tier.

  Angule’s ire began to cool. So we are not suspected?

  No, Catalyct. We remain free of taint.

  And yet, I sensed discordance among the vitality lattices. Has Lord Vetis tarnished his character by sufferance of loss?

  I am afraid so. It has now been confirmed a costly tragedy befell us. Not only were Tribuni Desh and Cayyem lost to the eternal tranquility of night, but Lega’trix Jahi fell along with them. I fear the Cataract of Lost Hopes will resound to the song of mourning for many cycles.

  Angule flared. How is such a thing possible? A Kresh of his stature should have easily coped with the presence of bane-metal. It is an ability we acquire in ascendancy from ignorance. And he was Unium.

  Human ingenuity, I’m afraid. The quantum weapons they have devised were dropped in considerable quantities. Several landed on or near Jahi himself as he attempted to initialize the vext. The doorway became warped, and added its potency to the yield of the singularity vortexes manifesting about him. Zuul tells me Jahi’s threshold was torn into several pieces before combustion took place. He caused quite a blast.

  Realization struck Angule. This could work to our advantage, brother. For does this not mean our numbers are more evenly matched?

  Alas, it does not. So outraged were Foroon and To’pesh by the affront to our honor that they have pledged their support to Vetis. Although new to our ranks, the addition of two Lega’trexii to his cause tips the balance in his favor.

  Nevertheless, I must not allow such recklessness to continue, Angule retorted. An age of strategy and patient nurture comes to fruition. It cannot be thwarted this close to the end by a lack of courage.

  A new plan of action began forming in Angule’s mind. He said: Saffir, I perceive a way this fiasco may be turned to our advantage. Am I not the Prime Catalyct of the Unium? Should I not be seen to support Vetis in promoting his vendetta? Lowering the tone of his thoughts, he added slyly: Of course, these latest developments require an embellishment or two of my own. After all, we don’t want the final exhalation of fatal provenance consuming the wrong side now, do we?

  Enraptured, Saffir bristled in delight: Your orders?

  It is obvious both Unium and Duarium require further training. The devices now employed by the humans are capable of disrupting our enhanced integrity with alarming ease. Therefore, I must devise a defense and share it with the entire cabal, for this will please our Imperator greatly. Of course, I appreciate our more aggressive brethren will be otherwise engaged for the next seven cycles as they mourn for our lost ones. And in this, Vetis must set an example. Therefore, it is essential we use this time wisely. An important aspect of what I have to share is for our faction’s eyes only. You’ll all see why.

  Saffir’s eyes glowered and steamed in approval.

  Angule wasn’t finished. Then, I require the services of Lega’trix Caym, Tribunus Raum, and Praefactors Mamone’sh and Orias. Each has shown themselves sensitive to the quintessential nature of emerging Kresh. The children of the Trianium are being roused as we speak. I want to ensure we have our own people there as each innocent is invested with consciousness. If we can distinguish even the slightest potential among the emergent, we must ensure they are assigned to one of our pods.

  It will be done, Angule.

  Excellent. We will convene at first matins tonight. As the brethren begin to moon-phase with the Cataract, we will disassociate our essences and begin our preparations.

  *

  Mark Stevens closed his eyes, bowed his head, and allowed the ambience of his surroundings to overtake him. In moments, he was floating in a sea of golden light, and reminiscing about better times.

  During the months they had been here, Mark had begun to look on Boleni Heights as his new home. Although vastly smaller than Rhomane, the astrometrics facility had all the creature comforts you could wish for. This was because it was much bigger than appearances first suggested.

  The array itself occupied the first three of six levels. Two were above ground, while the rest burrowed deep into the mountain. The parabolic dishes, telescopes, passive and reactive antenna clusters, imaging trains, and targeting scanners filled the top floor with an Aladdin’s cave of hi-Tec material and equipment. Looking like a giant version of a mad scientist’s crown, the edifice was linked to the multitude of computers and workstations on the ground floor below it by literally miles of cables, wires, and photonic relays.

  Beneath them, on sub-level one, were the backup generators, scientific labs, and standby stations that allowed for continual research and development to be conducted on site.

  Next came the habitat module. A self-contained environment of pastel shades, restful holograms, activity halls, relaxation rooms, and gymnasium that helped the days breeze past without boredom.

  The fifth level was heavily armored, for it housed the main computer core, hospital, armory, flyer squadron, and vehicle bay. Hermetically sealed, the sterile environs were connected to the surface by an independent runway and localized transporter pad.

  Finally, more than four hundred feet down, lurked the power room. A shielded cavern of titanic energies, kept in check by the arcane contrivance of super-advanced physics.

  It had taken Mark considerable time to check out all the nooks and crannies, and every maintenance shaft and service-way the facility had to offer. But he was like that. Meticulous. Thorough. Patient. It came with the job. And where security was concerned, he never compromised. That had its perks, for being methodical had allowed him to discover the most amazing locations over the years.

  He was in such a place now, on an overhead gantry near the junction of sub-levels three and four. The cave wall in this area was covered by a phosphorescent form of algae. Under normal circumstances it glowed brightly in the dark, and Mark found the blue-green
iridescence enthralling. However, not two weeks ago he had been in the chamber as the sun came up outside. To his amazement, the lichen colony began smoldering with a rich amber radiance that filled the cave with light and warmth. Not only that, he was then astonished to hear the moss issuing an audible tone of such sweetness, it wrung his heart. The symbiotic association of the fragile life form blended so intimately with its environment that it appeared as if the algae were serenading the dawn of each new day. He was enchanted from the word go, and had been drawn here most mornings since.

  Word had inevitably spread within the confines of such a small community, and now Mark found himself sharing the wonders of this phenomenon with a growing number of his colleagues.

  The chorus ended. Mark breathed a huge sigh of contentment, blinked his eyes open, and thought, God, I’m going to miss this place.

  The Horde attack of the previous week had spurred Commander Cameron into revising his schedule. Only yesterday, they had received fresh orders from Rhomane.

  Ten days. Ten lousy days, and then we have to begin all over again. He snorted. Still, I shouldn’t complain. At least I get to make a fresh start.

  His mind was drawn back to the memorial service they had shared online. Saying goodbye was never easy. All the more so when it included friends and acquaintances that were gentle-natured and had just wanted to be left alone.

  Thirty-seven lives wasted by those soul-sucking bastards. Thirty-seven! And it would have been far worse if not for Jake’s hunch.

  He was about to fill the air with curses when he noticed he wasn’t alone. Bob Neville was among those who had come to listen to the ‘sun-song,’ as it had been dubbed, and he had declined to leave with the rest.

  “Something I can help you with, Bob?”

  “Er, there might be, if you don’t mind?”

  Although coming along in leaps and bounds, Bob was always subdued in Mark’s company. And with the rest of the team, come to that. Mark realized it was probably due to the scientist’s remorse over Jumper’s death. While everyone else now appreciated it had been an unfortunate accident, Bob never seemed quite able to forgive himself.