Alien War Trilogy 2: Zeus

by Isaac Hooke

  An aircraft roared past overhead and crashed into the ground nearby, cutting a large runnel into the dirt before exploding.

  “The hell was that?” Fret said.

  “I think it was one of our bombers,” Skullcracker said. “Shot down.”

  Without warning Tahoe’s Zeus was pulled from the defensive circle. The kraks concentrated on his mech, spewing acid all over it. Well, almost all over it: they left the impostor, who was still strapped into the passenger seat, conspicuously alone.

  “Can’t... hold... them!” Tahoe said.

  “Cyclone, eject!” TJ said. “Your cockpit is compromised!”

  The melting cockpit of the Zeus burst open a moment later and Tahoe jetted skyward in his jumpsuit. Apparently he still believed that the impostor was Rade, because he turned back to render aid; a krak snagged him by wrapping a tentacle around his boot, and began reeling him in.

  “Tahoe!” Rade said. “Harlequin, let me down! Harlequin!”

  Harlequin ignored him.

  Tahoe drew the blaster from his utility belt and fired, slicing the tentacle in two. He broke free but another tentacle struck him before he could reach the impostor, and he crashed to the ground not far from the defensive circle of mechs, vanishing from Rade’s view behind a writhing knot of beasts.

  The other kraks continued to whale upon Tahoe’s Zeus unit. They spewed acid, and slammed their glistening appendages repeatedly into its weakening hull. One of the mech’s arms was pulled clean off. The impostor remained unscathed through it all. It seemed obvious to Rade that the creatures were trying to free him.

  “Sky!” Rade said. “Do something!”

  Sky didn’t answer, nor did it move from its position in the circle. Like the others, it was too occupied by the close fighting.

  A krak melted through the straps securing the impostor to the passenger seat of Tahoe’s mech, and the clone leaped down, untouched by the creatures. In fact, they cleared a path for him. He paused beside one of them and, like an obsequious pet, the krak promptly melted through the cuffs pinning his wrists behind his back.

  “Are you guys seeing this?” Rade said. “These things are helping him!”

  “Helping who?” Grappler said.

  “The impostor!”

  Tahoe came into view once more. He was in the air, firing into the kraks underneath him, but he wasn’t letting the blaster charge long enough and so inflicted only minor wounds. In moments another krak caught him. It drew him in and completely enveloped him with its tentacles.

  The impostor jetted toward Tahoe. Landing beside the krak, the clone picked up the blaster Tahoe had dropped and then fired at the beast, killing it. The dead creature toppled, still gripping Tahoe in its slimy appendages.

  Tahoe struggled to break free as the impostor approached. For a moment Rade entertained the faint hope that the clone might actually help his friend. Why kill the krak, otherwise?

  But then the impostor rested a heavy boot on Tahoe’s helmet and pointed the blaster directly at the faceplate.

  He looked up to make certain Rade was watching.

  “Told you I’d kill your friends,” the impostor transmitted.

  thirty

  Rade struggled futilely against his binds. He was going to watch his friend die and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Tahoe’s Zeus abruptly broke free of the kraks restraining it. The hull was a mess, with wires and servomotors exposed all over the place, and the cockpit was torn open in several places. The Zeus bashed aside the kraks between it and Tahoe, using the one arm remaining to it.

  The impostor noticed the commotion and hastily raised the blaster to defend himself. He fired, striking the incoming Zeus, but the mech took no notice—it plowed right into the impostor, sending him hurtling to one side.

  The mech knelt to rip Tahoe from the tentacles of the dead creature, but then more kraks quickly enveloped it, pulling the Zeus down. Rade lost sight of both the mech and his friend once more.

  Tahoe abruptly jetted into the air; he managed to clear the tentacles reaching up for him and finally landed in the middle of the defensive circle, on top of TJ’s immobilized mech.

  Tahoe’s Zeus didn’t emerge from the fray. Rade felt a pang of pity for the valiant AI that had sacrificed itself for its master.

  “TJ, open up your stowage door,” Tahoe said. “I need your spare blaster.”

  TJ obeyed. A compartment opened in the upper thigh of the mech—the only part of TJ’s Zeus that wasn’t encased in crystals.

  “Hold still for a second,” Tahoe said.

  “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” TJ said.

  Tahoe retrieved the blaster and held it to a portion of the crystal.

  “Wait, I thought the crystal reflects laser fire?” TJ said.

  “It does,” Tahoe said. “But I have a theory. If I can send the beam inside at the perfect angle, it should reflect right back into the crystal. And then reflect again. And again. Back and forth that beam will go, constantly rattling the surrounding atoms in an ever increasing cascade effect, eventually melting right through. That’s my hope, anyway. Now, let’s see if my local AI can help me with the aiming...”

  Tahoe took several moments to properly position his blaster against the surface, checking and rechecking the angle, and then he finally fired. He slouched in visible relief when the beam drilled a small hole through the translucent substance. He adjusted the position of the blaster and fired again. In that way he proceeded to drill several more holes through the immobilizing crystal.

  Rade returned his attention to the fighting. He searched for the impostor, who still lurked somewhere out there. Rade saw him then, through the swarm. The clone’s eyes were directed toward the ground: he appeared to be searching for his blaster, which must have fallen away when the mech struck him.

  “Harlequin,” Rade said. “If it isn’t obvious I’m on your side by now, then you’re the stupidest Artificial I know. Let me down.”

  The straps tying him to the passenger seat abruptly opened.

  “Thank you,” Rade said.

  He leaped down and landed beside Tahoe on TJ’s encased mech.

  Tahoe started, then turned the blaster on him.

  Rade lifted his hands in surrender. “Tahoe. It’s me.”

  The Zeus units continued to fight in a ring around them. For a moment, Rade thought Tahoe was going to squeeze the trigger.

  “Remember how Lieutenant Vicks looked?” Rade said. “Remember her eyes? Well look into my own, Tahoe. Truly look. Are these the eyes of the enemy? You know me.”

  Tahoe stared at him for long moments as the battle raged around them.

  And then he lowered the blaster.

  “Thank you.” Rade swiveled his arms, still tied behind his back, toward his friend. “Would you mind?”

  Tahoe removed the cuffs.

  “Good to see you finally believe me,” Rade told him.

  “I still have my doubts.”

  “And yet you freed me,” Rade said.

  “I know.” Tahoe returned his attention to TJ’s Zeus. “That’s because you haven’t tried to kill me yet.”

  Rade glanced at the circle of defenders. “Harlequin, can you open your stowage?”

  “I’m not allowed to arm you,” Harlequin said.

  “Can I borrow that for a second?” Rade asked Tahoe.

  Tahoe hesitated. “Why?”

  “The impostor is still out there.”

  Conveniently, the clone showed up on the overhead map as a blue dot several meters beyond the defensive perimeter, amid the swarm.

  Tahoe, obviously using that information, aimed through the fray toward the clone. Rade followed his aim. He caught glimpses of the impostor through the fighting; the man still seemed to be searching for the lost weapon.

  Tahoe abruptly lowered the blaster. “Can’t do it. Feels like I’m shooting you. Go ahead.” He reluctantly handed over the weapon.

  Rade aimed between the legs of a Zeus
mech, in the direction of the clone. Kraks continually slid into and out of his vision, blocking his view of the target.

  “Not going to work,” Rade said. “Be right back.”

  Rade jetted into the passenger seat of the Zeus in front of him, then aimed down into the fray.

  “Get out of my seat,” Mauler told him.

  “One second.” Rade aimed at the impostor, but there were still too many kraks ebbing and flowing below to get a solid shot. He fired anyway. The beam took down an intervening krak, but another came forward to take its place.

  “Chief, one of the Rage’s is loose,” Mauler sent.

  “Both are loose,” Manic said from where he lay encased in crystals at the center of the circle.

  “I’m terminating the impostor out there on the plains,” Rade said. “I don’t know how many of you saw it, but he tried to kill Cyclone.”

  “I can confirm,” Tahoe said.

  “But we still don’t know if you’re the real Rage for sure,” Manic said.

  “Manic, I’m the real Rage.” He kept the impostor in his sights, waiting for the kraks to clear up. “Take a look out there. None of the creatures are bothering him in the least.”

  Rade caught a final glimpse of the clone: the man had found the blaster. He was aiming toward the defensive circle.

  At Rade.

  “Just saying,” Manic continued. “You might both be impostors.”

  An opening appeared in the fray. Rade had a clear shot.

  He fired.

  The laser struck the impostor’s faceplate and drilled straight through into the man’s forehead.

  The target toppled.

  “Impostor eliminated.” Rade leaped back into the middle of the circle. “Thank you.” He returned the blaster to Tahoe.

  “Are we going to leave him loose back there, Chief?” Mauler sent.

  “Cyclone, watch him,” Facehopper said.

  “Will do.” Tahoe continued drilling through the crystalline substance that coated TJ’s mech.

  “Bastards keep coming,” Keelhaul said. “Don’t think we can keep this up much longer, Chief. Too many of them.”

  Facehopper didn’t answer.

  Tahoe retracted the blaster. “That should do. Rage. Help me.”

  Tahoe began pounding his gloves into the crystalized chest area of TJ’s Zeus. Rade joined in.

  “TJ, try to bend your torso, or move your arms,” Tahoe said.

  Cracks formed in the crystalline surface, and then large portions broke away as the mech sat up. Rade and Tahoe were thrown onto Manic’s Zeus beside it.

  TJ’s arms erupted from the translucent chrysalis a moment later. “Do my legs, next,” TJ said.

  “Fret’s right, we can’t stay here,” Grappler said. “Our shields are melting away.”

  “Drape their dead over your shield, fool!” Bender said.

  “How can I?” Grappler said. “When soon I’ll have no shield to drape them over!”

  “He’s right, mates,” Facehopper said. “We’re going to have to retreat. Snakeoil, help Tahoe and Rage free TJ, then work on Manic. Let me know when you’ve cut them loose.”

  “Roger that,” Snakeoil said.

  He left his place in the circle, and the other platoon members closed the gap.

  “Snakeoil, you have to hold your laser right up to the surface,” Tahoe said. “And initiate a cascading reflection in the atoms. I’m transmitting guidelines to your AI now.”

  Snakeoil’s mech stood on top of Manic’s Zeus. He held his cobra to the encasing crystals and fired in controlled bursts to conserve charge. The sheer weight of the mech caused the damaged crystals to shift underneath him, and they sloughed away. Snakeoil lost his balance on the moving surface and slammed into Manic’s mech.

  “Get off of me!” Manic said. His arms were partially mobile at that point, and he shoved at Snakeoil, but couldn’t get the mech off of him.

  Snakeoil scrambled upright. “Hold yer horses.”

  Manic struggled against the last remnants of crystal clinging to his servomotors, and then broke free of it entirely. He stood up.

  “Move aside, gentlemen,” Manic said.

  Tahoe and Rade had been working on TJ, but then they activated their jetpacks to clear the way for Manic.

  Rade landed in the passenger seat of Sky, while Tahoe took Snakeoil’s seat.

  Manic leaped onto TJ’s legs; he placed his cobra up against the crystals and fired in bursts, letting his weight shift the damaged crystals aside. In moments TJ was free.

  “Chief,” Snakeoil said. “TJ and Manic are operational.”

  “All right, mates,” Facehopper said. “We’ll break through the horde by using our incendiaries to blind them, then we’ll jet over them, heading northeast. When we land, we’ll continue along that vector, following the eastern perimeter of the city, and then proceed toward the second FOB downtown. It’s our only chance.”

  Rade knew it was a long shot. When they got to the base, it was unlikely any booster rockets would be available to allow the Zeus units a direct launch into orbit. The platoon members would have to abandon the mechs and search for a shuttle. Whether or not they would actually find such a craft at the current point in the evacuation was another story.

  “Here’s the initial landing zone,” Facehopper continued. On the HUD, a flashing waypoint appeared about fifty meters to the northeast. “The enemy ranks are relatively thin there, and won’t offer much resistance. Touching down any farther is a waste of fuel—you’ll already be at half a tank by that point. Once you land, make your way to the muster point.” One kilometer to the northeast another waypoint appeared, marked M1. “Got it? All right. On my mark fire incendiaries. Let’s blind these bastards.” Facehopper paused. “Mark!”

  The mechs unleashed flames outward, coating the closest enemies in jellied gasoline. The kraks continued to attack, ignoring the fire. Though it was obvious they were blinded from the way their tentacles haphazardly struck out, not to mention the random streams of acid their maws spewed.

  “Damn things sure have a high pain threshold,” Manic said.

  “Ignite jumpjets!” Facehopper said.

  Sky bent its knees, leaped upward, and thrust. Rade felt his suit vibrate as those large nozzles fired continually underneath the passenger seat.

  Some of the kraks beyond the burning ranks leaped upward and attempted to grab the fleeing mechs, but their tentacles missed. Rade switched his overhead map to an isometric perspective to make sure none of his brothers were yanked into the fray.

  Everyone made it.

  Below, kraks continually jumped upward, unfurling their tentacles in a desperate attempt to grab them.

  Sky jetted slightly higher, while maintaining a consistent aft outflow. In the distance, Rade could see the half-buried dodecahedrons protruding from the craters that produced the swarm. Definitely troop carriers of some kind: the beasts emerged without end from the open ramps. It was probably a good thing the platoon had fled.

  In the distance above the city, he saw what looked like four evac shuttles launch from the downtown area. Those shuttles hugged the rooftops as they sped eastward toward the mountains, and when they cleared the city, the craft angled upward sharply to complete the escape. Unfortunately one shuttle burst into flames as Rade watched; the remainder made it, however. That was a good sign.

  Sky began to descend toward the waypoint, as did the other Zeus mechs. Below, as Facehopper predicted the krak ranks were relatively thin, and contained maybe a quarter of the creatures the party had faced only moments before.

  Sky and the others launched their remaining Hellfires to clear a path and then the Zeus mechs landed at a run. Electrolasers thundered and tentacles rained down around Rade.

  “To the muster point, mates!” Facehopper said.

  After punching through the enemy outskirts, Facehopper had TJ organize the platoon into two squads while on the run. Traveling overwatch formation.

  Behind, the swarm of fou
r-legged creatures pursued at a fairly good clip, but the platoon members slowly outran them—the kraks definitely moved slower than generic hammerheads. Rade supposed those tentacled heads weighed the enemy down. A few of the creatures even occasionally tripped over their own tentacles, which they dragged on the ground as they ran.

  Several Zeus mechs in both squads ran with torsos swiveled partly backward, so that while the autopilots continued forward, the operators could fire zodiacs and cobras into the receding enemy.

  Rade stood up in his passenger seat and clambered around to the front of the mech. It was tricky maintaining his hold while the Zeus was in full sprint like that.

  “Let me in,” Rade ordered.

  Sky refused to respond.

  “Sky, whatever Facehopper told you, the current crisis overrides it. I’ve proven myself by now.”

  Nothing.

  He decided to try a different tack. “Sky, The Machine Constitution demands that you protect human life! I could fall at any time. I don’t think I can hang on to your hull for much longer. Let me inside!”

  Nothing.

  There was one last thing he could try.

  “Chief, can you instruct Sky to let me in?” Rade sent.

  “Go ahead, Sky,” Facehopper sent.

  The cockpit finally opened and Rade eased inside with the help of his jetpack.

  The hatch sealed and the inner cocoon wrapped him tightly. He tried to move, but the actuators didn’t yield. He was pinned. He should have been able to pilot the mech without a helmet—all he needed were the aReal goggles he wore. But the AI simply wasn’t allowing him.

  “Just because I’ve allowed you inside doesn’t mean I’m going to let you control the Zeus,” Sky said.

  “Are you going to make me talk to the chief again? You know it’s me. You’re familiar with my voiceprint. The hidden tics and micro-expressions on my face. I’m sure you scanned the impostor and compared these against my expected biometrics.”