Isolation (Forgotten Vengeance Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  “Shit, hold on!” Pyro shouted. The dropship banked suddenly, hard to starboard, causing it to shake violently.

  Nathan gritted his teeth, his armor straining against the staggering acceleration, his synthetic muscles threatening to snap. He flattened one mechanized hand against the overhead to wedge himself in.

  “Woo-hoo!” Pyro howled as the dropship leveled off. “Hot damn, General. You should have seen it.”

  “Seen what?”

  “That goliath we helped out was right behind us. It caught that squiddie mid-air and crushed it like a grape.”

  “After we almost crashed into it?”

  “We didn’t.”

  “Nice flying, Pyro.”

  “Roger that, General.”

  “Get us back around to the city, a little more gently this time. And give me a status on that goliath.” He paused. “Oh, and see if you can get Hayden on the comm.”

  “Yes, sir. On it.”

  Nathan deactivated the magnets holding him to the deck and made his way across the hold toward the Centurions. Their genders were evident in the shape of the combat armor. Three males and three females. But their identities remained hidden by their helmets.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Nathan asked.

  There was a slight hesitation as if they weren’t sure. “I am,” one of the women finally said, holding up her hand.

  She was marked as ‘Rico’ on his ATCS. The name was familiar. “Are you Special Officer Rodriguez?”

  “I am. I was.”

  “Hayden’s mentioned your name before. My name is General J…” He froze before he said James. He had been using his brother’s name outside his inner circle to keep Edenrise safe. But Edenrise was gone now. And there was nowhere safe. “General Nathan Stacker.”

  “You’re the Stacker that escaped from Proxima,” one of the other soldiers said.

  Nathan froze when he noticed the name Bennett. He had to remind himself this wasn’t either of the clones who had nearly killed him. “I am,” he admitted. “Are you going to take me in?”

  Bennett laughed. “Me and what army?”

  “Rico, he’s an original Stacker,” Bennett said.

  “No shit?” Rico asked.

  “What does that mean?” one of the Centurions asked. Ike.

  “Stackers were the first clones,” Rico replied. “And in some ways still the best. How old are you?”

  “Seventy-eight.”

  A few of the Centurions whistled.

  “Clones are limited to sixty-year life-terms now,” Rico explained to Ike. “Original Stackers don’t have an age limit.”

  “How long will you live?” Ike asked.

  “If we’re lucky, to the next sunrise,” Nathan replied.

  “General,” Pyro said. “I’m coming back around on Sanisco. The goliath is holding his own against the xaxkluth on the north side of the bay, thanks to the damage the Capricorn did. The city looks like it’s in a world of hurt. I’m not sure what we can do.”

  “We have to do something,” Nathan said. “What about Hayden?”

  “No luck.”

  “I’m sorry, General,” Rico said. “We came to Earth with a warning. I guess we came too late.”

  “Can you fight?” Nathan asked. He knew they could. Their vitals were on his network. They were all healthy, save for Hicks, and the deputy wasn’t letting his damaged arm slow him down.

  “Yes, General,” Rico said.

  “Then you aren’t too late. The way I see it, we’ve got two objectives. One, help get as many people out of the city alive as possible. Two, find Sheriff Duke and his family. Hayden claimed he has access to new tech that may help us fight back against the xaxkluth.”

  “We could use it right now,” Bennett said. “We don’t hold up well against those things.”

  “We do the best we can,” Nathan said. “Ball grenades are relatively effective if you can get them on the central mass, at least against the smaller ones. Taking out their eyes helps. I’ve got enough MK-12s and grenades to go around. We fight smart and dirty, and we might be able to slow them enough to keep some of Sanisco’s people alive.”

  “Roger that,” Rico said. “What’s this tech you mentioned?”

  “I told you about it, remember?” Ike replied. “The neural interlink. Natalia used it to enter the Relyeh Collective. She was able to kill hundreds of khoron through it. If she can find a way to do the same thing here...”

  “…we can stop the Relyeh,” Rico finished.

  “Haeri was right to send us to get you off Proxima,” Bennett said.

  “Haeri?” Nathan said, sudden anger welling up at the mention of the name. “What does that bastard have to do with this?”

  “General Haeri is a good man,” Bennett said.

  “General Haeri is the reason I had to leave Proxima. He killed my wife, and then he sent two of you to take me out.”

  “I’m sure he had good reason.”

  Nathan took a step toward Bennett, his anger beginning to get the best of him. It was a flaw in the Stacker design, one he always struggled to manage.

  “Wait!” Rico said getting between Nathan and Bennett. “We don’t have time for this bullshit. General, we have work to do.”

  Nathan looked down at Rico. He exhaled heavily and backed up a step. “Right. Two teams. One looks for Hayden, the other tries to create an escape corridor through the perimeter and out of the city.” He turned toward Hicks. “You’re familiar with Sanisco.”

  “More familiar than anyone else here,” Hicks replied. “General, both teams should drop in front of the pyramid. If we can get to the second floor of the garage, the Sheriff has some artillery that’ll come in handy for clearing a path out.”

  “Agreed,” Nathan said. “This armor will make it hard for me to maneuver inside. I’ll lead the team against the xaxkluth. Rico, Ike, Bennett, you need to find Sheriff Duke.”

  “Roger that,” Rico said. “What about the interlink?”

  “You’ll have to secure that too. Can you carry it out?”

  “It’s too big to carry as-is,” Ike said. “We’d have to extract the main components from the frame. I’m sure Natalia can do it.”

  “We can’t assume anyone down there is still alive,” Bennett said.

  Nathan winced. “We need a different pilot. Who’s qualified?”

  “I am,” Rico said.

  “Anyone else?” Nathan asked. “We need you on the ground.”

  “I can do it,” Bennett said. “I’m not as good as Rico, but I have the training.”

  “Okay. You’re up. Pyro, I’m sending Bennett up to replace you.”

  “Roger, General,” Pyro replied as Bennett rushed toward the stairs, headed for the bridge.

  “Grab your toolbox on the way down,” he told Pyro.

  “Yes, sir.”

  It took less than a minute for Bennett and Pyro to exchange places, the pilot joining them in the hold with a small satchel of tools slung across her back.

  “Bennett, set a course for the pyramid. Set us down as close to it as you can. Also, see if you can map a route through the city that’ll help get the civilians clear and mark every xaxkluth along that route.”

  “Yes, General,” Bennett replied.

  “Centurions, the guns are that way. Grab your gear and line up for departure. Bennett, ETA?”

  “Two minutes, General.”

  “You’ve got two minutes. Eyes open, stay focused. We’re going in hotter than hell.”

  12

  Nathan

  The Centurions had lined up at the back of the hold, well inside of the two minutes until touchdown. They were freshly armed with MK-12 assault rifles and carrying heavy loads of magazines and ball grenades. Nathan had taken the time to refresh his railgun as well, exchanging his empty ammunition crates with refills.

  “General,” Bennett said. “I’ve marked the drop point and the escape corridor. This is as close as I can get you.”

  Nathan glanced at
his HUD. It fed all the ATCS-equipped fighters a three-dimensional, isometric map of the city as captured by the Parabellum’s sensors. Red marks filled the areas around the skyscrapers, while a line of yellow marked the targets blocking the egress from the city.

  A green circle marked the drop zone on the rooftop of one of the lower buildings, two streets away from the pyramid. It was the least-dense zone in Sanisco, the safest place to touch down.

  “There have to be at least fifty of them,” the Centurion marked as Drake said.

  “A hundred,” another Centurion, Lucius, replied.

  “It doesn’t matter how many there are,” Rico said. “Focus on the yellow marks. We’ve got about a dozen.”

  “We barely killed one of those things,” Lucius said. “How are we going to kill twelve?”

  “We’ll find a way,” Drake said. “We have to.”

  “Remember,” Hicks said. “Focus on the central mass. Go for the eyes.”

  “They like to cover themselves with their tentacles,” Nathan said. “Try to arc the ball grenades up and over.”

  “And they communicate through the Collective,” Ike added. “So they’ll adapt to an effective tactic in unison.”

  “We could have done without that last part,” Drake said. “It didn’t help my morale.”

  “But it might help you survive,” Rico said. “Spot, Jesse, you good?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the other two Centurions replied.

  “I’m setting the path to the pyramid,” Nathan said, using his eyes to navigate the ATCS. He drew a line from their ingress point to the target. It wasn’t entirely direct, but it would hopefully help them avoid too much engagement before they were ready. That done, he hit the ramp control, the back of the Parabellum’s hold opening up once more.

  “Fifteen seconds,” Bennett announced.The dropship slowed to a standstill, thrusters pushing it to a momentary hover.

  Then it started to drop straight down, more gently than the last time. The motion threatened to lift the Centurions off their feet, leaving Nathan with the feeling he was rising inside the armor. But that sensation only lasted a few seconds. The wind rushed into the hold, quickly equalizing the pressure. The dropship began to slow again, the deceleration making him heavier again.

  The rooftop came into view, filthy but intact. The xaxkluth’s groaning echoed across the city, along with the sounds of shouting, screaming, breaking glass, cracking mortar, twisting metal and occasional gunfire.

  The ramp’s electrical motor whirred, starting to lower. Glimpsing the outside, it was as if they were about the step out of the Parabellum and into Hell.

  The dropship tapped the rooftop with its landers, bouncing slightly before settling, the ramp hitting the deck.

  “Go, go, go, go, go!” Nathan said, leading them out of the craft and onto the rooftop. He charged across it toward the stairwell near the center, the Centurions, Deputy Hicks and Corporal Hotch right behind him.

  “I thought Sheriff Duke was organized,” Drake said. “But this place is in chaos.”

  “Bennett, get an angle on the evac route and start hitting the marks,” Nathan said.

  “Yes, General. You should know, the ship’s reactor is at forty percent. We can’t do this forever.”

  Nathan clenched his jaw. Under regular use he could have squeezed almost a century of service time from the Parabellum’s reactor. Maybe more. Instead, they had used nearly fifty percent power in the last twenty-four hours.

  “Understood. Limit your fire until we’re ready to make our move.”

  “Roger, General.”

  “Rico, lead the team down the stairs,” Nathan said. “I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

  “Roger.”

  The Centurions began moving into the stairwell to descend to the street while Nathan went to the edge of the building. One of the biggest limitations of the powered armor was its size, which made it challenging to operate indoors.

  He looked down at the street. There were a few bodies spread across it, including one in a Deputy’s uniform. Dark stains of mucus marked where the xaxkluth had already gone past on their way to the pyramid.

  He spotted a few survivors there too, huddled together in a crevice of rubble.

  Then he saw the xaxkluth.

  It was a smaller one, barely three meters long. It came around the corner slowly, speeding up when it spotted the survivors’ hiding place.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Nathan said, grabbing his rifle and leaning over the edge of the building. He led the alien with his gun, lining up the attack. He had to conserve ammo as best he could.

  The survivors saw the Relyeh coming. They didn’t try to run, instead pushing harder into the crevice as if that would remove them from its sight.

  Nathan squeezed the trigger as the xaxkluth moved into his reticle, firing a short burst that tore through its central mass, killing it instantly. It took the survivors a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and by that time Nathan was already on his way down, using his thrusters to slow his descent to the street.

  He landed smoothly, the civilians already approaching. A quick glance at his HUD told him the area was clear for the moment, but it wouldn’t last. The gunfire had attracted the attention of other xaxkluth.

  “Who are you?” one of the survivors asked. “Where’s Sheriff Duke?”

  “You need to get out of here,” Nathan said through the armor’s external speakers. “Away from the city.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  Nathan paused. Where would they go? This wasn’t Edenrise. There were no old Navy warships waiting to ferry the survivors away from trouble.

  “We’re going to clear a path. Get out of the city and head southeast.”

  “What about the trife?”

  Nathan remembered what had happened to the trife back east. Considering the size of these xaxkluth and the UWT’s success at destroying nests, there was a good chance the entire surrounds of the city were clear. “You’ll survive a few trife better than you’ll survive these things.”

  The civilians didn’t look convinced. “We should stay with you.”

  “Trust me, the last place you want to be is near me.”

  The rest of the Centurions came filing out of the building, rushing up to where Nathan was standing.

  “General, we have to move,” Rico said. “We’ve got incoming.”

  Nathan pointed to an alley leading in the direction they were hoping to clear. “Wait there until it’s safe, and then make a run for it.”

  “How will we know when it’s safe?”

  “You’ll know.” He turned off the external speakers. “Let’s go, Centurions.”

  13

  Caleb

  Caleb floated in the void.

  He didn’t know how much or how little time had passed. It was all relative inside the Collective. What seemed like minutes could be hours. What seemed like hours could be seconds. He didn’t know how the system was ordered or if it was ordered at all. He could spend a lifetime floating and wake up at the moment he had passed out.

  Or he could die without ever waking at all.

  It was the second option that threatened his calm and sanity. Since he didn’t know how time was progressing on Earth, there was a constant possibility that he could die at any second. And if he did die, what would happen to him? He was inside the mind of a Relyeh ancient, a computer connected to a server stuck in an infinite loop of nothingness.

  And how had that happened, anyway? How had Nyarlath been taken out of her own Construct while he was trapped behind? It didn’t seem like it should even be possible.

  Set me free, Caleb Card. Set me free, and I will spare your world.

  Nyarlath’s statements moved to the forefront of Caleb’s mind. Set her free? He had seen it. She was a prisoner, locked away in the depths of what to him looked like a Relyeh planet, dark and damp. But who had imprisoned her there? All of the information he had gathered on her suggested she was one of the mos
t powerful of the ancients, ruler of hundreds of planets and commander of a massive Relyeh fleet. Her followers on Earth had sworn she was coming to take the planet, and the attacks by the xaxkluth seemed to bear that out. Her favorite pets, Ishek had said. And they had been planted on the planet centuries before, at the beginning of the first invasion in preparation of her arrival.

  And they had emerged because she was on her way.

  But she was a prisoner.

  So who was really coming? And were they bringing her with them?

  He had no way to know and no way to figure it out in his current situation. He needed to find a way out of this. He needed to get back to Earth and tell the others what he knew.

  And if it came down to it, if it meant saving the planet, he needed to find a way to fulfill Nyarlath’s request. To make a deal with the Relyeh who promised to spare their world.

  “Think, Card,” he said out loud, his voice echoing in the emptiness. Echoing? “Hello!” he shouted, the word reverberating around him. “Hello!”

  He listened intently, judging the distances around him. He wasn’t in a void. The construct had finite space, which meant it had to have some kind of order. Some form of rules. Echoes meant soundwaves and something like air to generate them.

  He paused, still considering. He had been in a Construct before, and in that Construct he had been able to make the rules. To go where he wanted to go and see what he wanted to see. Why was this any different?

  He imagined himself back in Nyarlath’s prison, picturing the monstrous Relyeh ancient in his mind. He tried to put himself there, to return to what he had lost.

  The Construct remained blank around him.

  It didn’t work.

  “Damn it,” he said softly. “Okay. Figure it out, Card. You can do this. Start with the basics.” He looked down. “There’s a floor under my feet. And gravity. Emergency LEDs lighting the way.”

  He stared at his feet, dangling in the ether. He waited for them to become planted. For his words to become reality.

  That didn’t work either.