Invardii Box Set 2

by Warwick Gibson

  “What say we track these back to their source?” she said.

  “Makes sense to me,” he answered. “Is that up or down?”

  “Down takes us deeper into the flagship,” said Celia. Then she thought to add, “how are your energy reserves now, anyway?”

  They were good. Not a hundred percent, but good enough for most of the things they might have to do.

  “Down it is, then,” said the pilot resignedly, and swung himself out over the edge. The two Valkrethi descended rapidly, hand over hand, until the shaft made a sudden turn and stopped at a door. The cables ran on through the wall beside the door.

  Celia looked at the pilot. He shrugged. She lifted one giant leg and buckled the door inward. It was surprisingly strong, at least as strong as the hull. She didn’t stop to think why that might be.

  She grabbed an overhead beam to brace herself, and kicked the door harder. It ripped out of the wall and vanished into the maelstrom beyond. Incandescent plasma roared past the door and licked out toward them.

  Celia noticed the temperature reading for the Valkrethi as it skyrocketed upward, and stepped back, pulling the pilot away from the glowing hole where the door used to be.

  “It’s the goddammit core! We’re looking straight into the fusion reactor. It’s hotter than a sun in there!”

  He nodded. “Then how do we destroy it?”

  “We can’t destroy it,” she said, thinking hard. “I bet it’s set up with a number of fail-safes. It would just close itself down if we tried to damage it.”

  She stopped for a moment.

  “We have to feed it,” she said at last. “If the fire gets too much for the damping mechanisms, we might get a runaway reaction.

  “I know! The electromagnets. It must have a containment field of some sort.”

  They worked their way around the outside of the reactor, bashing through walls, looking for a control room. The reactor grumbled, managing to contain the breach in its walls but increasingly unstable, and close to shutting itself down.

  They found the control room moments later. The pilot dealt with the dozen Invardii in the room while Celia ripped the covering panels from the instrumentation along the wall. The panel were covered in hieroglyphics and glowing five-pointed symbols that meant nothing to her.

  The controls were solid state underneath, an assemblage of cubes and rods. Dammit, nothing looked familiar. She went for the most complex part of the board, where dozens of channels seemed to converge. They had to be the safety controls for the electromagnets

  Celia ripped an edge off a panel she had already discarded and used it to short different groups of conduits at once. It wasn’t making any difference. Then she thought she heard the hum of the reactor increase in pitch. She punched the metal down onto the conduits, smashing some and shorting out others permanently.

  Spinning toward the reactor wall, she booted another hole in it. Beckoning to the pilot she dragged one of the consoles in the room across to the hole and forced it through. It was sucked into the core, and the pitch of the reactor increased.

  Yes! She had done it. As the core got larger, it would generate more electromagnetic field, and suck in more of its surroundings. The pull on the Valkrethi – though they were partly composite – was already noticeable in her movements. Desperately she worked alongside the pilot to feed the beast.

  They smashed the hole wider, and threw everything they could tear loose through it. The rest of the consoles followed. Then they started peeling off the walls and feeding that to the core.

  Suddenly there was a new sound, a deeper roar that grew louder as they listened. Celia worked her way along the wall to the hole, gouging out handholds as she fought against the growing hunger of the core for all things metal. She was finally able to look through the hole at an angle. A sheet of alloy peeled off the inside of the core and disappeared into the furnace.

  It was working! The reactor was starting to eat the ship from the inside out. She clawed her way back to the pilot, and motioned frantically that they should get out. They held onto each other as they moved out of the remains of the control room. Then they found a long corridor, and sprinted up it.

  Celia took the next left, which she thought would lead them to the outside wall of the flagship. They battered down a large door and found themselves in another of the cargo bays. This one was already open to space, and they activated the dipole systems a moment later.

  The two Valkrethi swung out of the flagship and found themselves back in the melee of Javelins and Reaper ships. Celia turned to look back at the flagship, and it ignited into a miniature sun.

  The shock wave spun her away, and she remembered thinking how lucky she was to still be alive. Then both fleets were scattered helplessly across space by the blast. It was the first real breakthrough.

  Cordez saw the call ID on his sub-space system light up, and noted with interest that it was Cagill’s call sign. The Valkrethi had left Aqua Regis a little after midnight, Earth time, and it was now mid-morning in Cordez’ office in the South Am block. He looked forward to hearing how the engagement with the Invardii forces had gone.

  He tapped in his acknowledgment of the call, and nodded a greeting as Cagill’s face came up on the comms screen.

  “52 Fire Ships destroyed, and two flagships,” said Cagill, without preamble, “with another flagship extensively damaged. That’s the good news.

  “However, there have also been a number of new developments.”

  Cordez nodded encouragingly.

  “Two of the Valkrethi were destroyed. It now appears they have a fail-safe system for the pilots, some sort of inner shield plus stasis system. We dug the pilots out of the remains of the damaged Valkrethi and revived them.”

  “What could destroy a Valkrethi?” asked Cordez.

  “Only the flagships,” said Cagill. “Some of the Valkrethi took big hits from combinations of the Reaper ship plasma arcs, but they survived. It taught us something else we hadn’t suspected. We now know the Valkrethi can regenerate themselves, and they can regenerate themselves from quite extensive damage.”

  That was the good and the bad of it, and it had been mostly good. Overall the trap had worked, and Cordez was pleased with that. He was very pleased indeed!

  CHAPTER 27

  ________________

  Cagill continued with his report, and there were many interesting things in the details.

  “The flagships are the real threat to the Valkrethi,” he said. “The plasma strings the flagships wield could probably destroy one, but they’re too slow to do much damage. The problem starts once the Valkrethi get past the defenses and board them. The flagships are carrying some sort of mobile weapon, and the Invardii are quick to use them once the Valkrethi get through the flagship’s hull.

  Cordez looked up at Cagill. “Which suggests they’re used to being boarded,” he said suspiciously. Then he thought about it.

  “What could be powerful enough to dig its way into a flagship – apart from a Valkrethi?” he continued.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” said Cagill. “Perhaps it’s a defensive measure left over from conflicts millennia ago.”

  “Perhaps,” said Cordez, not convinced. “It’s interesting that they still employ the same strategy. Who upset the Invardii that much, even if it was so long ago?”

  Cagill shrugged. “The other thing that worries me is that they’re learning. Once they figured out it was a trap – that the Valkrethi were waiting for them at Aqua Regis – and the first flagship was destroyed, they turned tail and ran. We didn’t get a chance to destroy them all like we did at the ice planet.

  “The last of our kills were from Valkrethi who boarded Reaper ships before they entered star drive, and dismembered them when they were going at faster than light speeds. We had to collect Valkrethi half way to the next star system!”

  Cordez had to laugh at the picture Cagill painted. Still, the Valkrethi commander was right. The enemy was learning, and that wasn�
��t good. The Alliance had relied on the arrogance and sense of superiority of the Invardii for a long time now. It was good to remember they wouldn’t always make those mistakes.

  The war for control of this part of the Spiral Arm was going to get a lot tougher, he could see that. Dammitall, ‘control of this part of the Spiral Arm’ wasn’t the right way to talk about this war. The Alliance would throw the Invardii out of their space and make sure they never came back. There was no negotiating with these slag-spawn!

  Then Cagill was saying something else, and Cordez turned his mind back to the discussion at hand.

  “Once the Invardii fleet had left the Aqua Regis system, we sent in every torpedo team we could field to finish off the mining base at the Barrens. The teams came across a few more of the many-legged war machines, but they were no match for us in numbers. After that we didn’t encounter much resistance at all.”

  Cagill took a report from an aide, and Cordez waited patiently while he read it.

  “We’ve now shut down the mining base shields and landed on the mass launcher in numbers,” he continued, reading this from the report.

  “We’re currently searching the base,” he continued. “It’s early days yet, but it looks like we will get some handy stockpiles of super-heavy elements out of this. Also, judging by the numbers so far, we expect to collect two or three hundred cylinders – Invardii in the inert state.

  “What are we going to do with so many prisoners of war?”

  “Matsu can figure out something,” said Cordez. “He can modify that rod weapon he made, the one that turns them into the inert state and keeps them there. We just need to adapt it to a building the size of a warehouse. We could have thousands of these things before the war is over.”

  Cagill stood in silence. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  “And the other thing we have to do is get science teams in there as soon as possible,” said Cordez. “The mining base will be a treasure trove of Invardii technology. I don’t think there will be much we can use – their approach to life is too energy wasteful to link to our systems – but it might help us understand the weaknesses of the warships we’re up against.”

  When the Valkrethi finally got back to Prometheus, Celia was the hero of the hour. The Javelin pilot she had partnered up with, Shavez, gave her all the credit.

  “She over-rode the safeties on the reactor,” he said. “I don’t know how she damn well did it, and she stays there feeding the reactor as it goes critical. Then it starts to feed on itself, with us still right beside it! Most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well, it was luck, really,” said Celia, remembering her attempts to short out the safety circuits on the strange-looking control panel.

  “Once is luck, maybe even twice,” said Chavez, “but that whole action, from breaching the hull – okay, okay, I had a hand in that – to the last minute exit through the cargo bay, had the hand of a master on it.

  “Er, should the word be ‘mistress’?” he added uncertainly.

  The room roared with laughter.

  “It was just luck the cargo bay doors were open,” said Celia feebly. “We took far too many risks.”

  But she was being ignored. The excited throng had already turned away from her to discuss the role of others in the dramatic actions at the Aqua Regis system.

  “Methinks she doth protest too much,” said a voice at Celia’s elbow. She turned, knowing it was Roberto. Even drained as she was, with the effects of too much adrenaline working its way out of her system, her heart beat a little faster.

  “What’s the use of being a head of department if no one will listen to you,” she said, with a wan smile.

  Roberto’s smile in return was much warmer, and sincere. She felt comforted by it.

  “But you did take too many risks,” he said. “Interesting, isn’t it? Why do you think that was?”

  “I don’t know,” she faltered. “It just seemed important that we, you know, show them, show the Invardii, we could do it.”

  “Or the momentum would be lost,” he said softly, “and it would become a barrier for us, a mental belief that we couldn’t take the giant flagships down.”

  She nodded, pleased he understood.

  “But we would have found a way,” he said, kindly. “For each setback, a way forward. That’s how Cordez thinks, you know.”

  “Really,” she said, brightening. “How do you know . . .”

  “Not important,” he said quickly, then relented. “I’ve been friendly with one of Cagill’s aides lately, and he’s been talking about Cordez.”

  “Look,” he continued, “what’s important here is that your actions on the flagship were an example of how you think. And you think in black and white. Good and bad. Extreme actions or none at all.

  “You learned that from your past – I know about that now – but you’ve got to understand there is a middle way.”

  Celia looked uncertain.

  “Like taking a chance on us,” he continued.

  “But I’m ten years older than you!” she protested, and he smiled at her efforts to put him off.

  “You’re eight years older, and for two months of each year you’ll only be seven years older. Besides, there’s a lot more than age involved. You’re in just as good a shape as any women my age, and that’s what counts.

  “Remember, age is as age does, and most importantly, there’s something about you I really want in my life. Believe me, that doesn’t happen very often.”

  She didn’t look any more convinced, and he steered her gently away from the others and out into the long corridor that led through the living areas.

  “We take our time,” he continued, “so that people get used to seeing us together. That’s normal. No one is going to say things behind your back about that.”

  She nodded slowly. He steered them into the back of the dining area, and went to prepare a hot drink that would help them wind down and help them sleep, after a very busy day.

  “On the other hand, if you start running around with a lot of different men, you will draw attention to yourself,” he added.

  Celia looked shocked. “It wasn’t like that, there was only ever one at a time, and I tried to make the relationships work!”

  “Good,” he said quietly. “I’m pleased to hear it. If you take an interest in another man while you’re with me, I’ll paddle your backside good and proper!”

  He said it with a smile, but there was an edge in his voice.

  Celia looked at him anxiously, and realized he meant it. She was both thrilled and apprehensive that he should take their relationship so seriously.

  “No, no. Nothing like that,” she said miserably.

  He put down the cups he was filling and came over to her, putting his arms around her.

  “Hey, it’s all right, just making some things clear between us. I do trust you, remember that, and I’ve always believed in you.”

  His arms were infinitely reassuring.

  “And there’s that last thing,” he said mischievously. She looked up.

  “The way you enjoy the touch of your man so much.”

  She blushed furiously, and tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he held her firm.

  “From my experience that’s quite common, so start thinking of yourself as normal. And, if you did happen to be a bit more of a woman than most, I would consider myself doubly blessed.

  “It’s not a bad thing, you know, to love someone with all your heart.”

  She subsided, not sure what to think. There were so many old emotional messages, and so much new hope.

  “Now drink this,” he said, turning back toward the bench to pick up one of the cups he had prepared. He handed it to her, and stroked her once on her arm.

  “Make sure you get a good night’s sleep,” he said finally.

  She accepted the cup, and smiled her thanks.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

  “One more thing,” he said. “
You get tonight off because you’ve had a busy day, but I’ll be coming for you one of these evenings, and I won’t wait for long. Make sure you’re ready.”

  Then he took his cup, smiled, and disappeared down the corridor.

  Celia realized she was trembling.

  CHAPTER 28

  ________________

  The lookout at the Shellport docks was the first to see the scattered collection of sails as they rounded the sea end of the giant trees and entered the main channel of the Kapuas river. It wasn’t long before he could count four dooplehuel in the convoy.

  It had to be Hudnee and Battrick. They’d gone out with three dooplehuel and fifteen villagers. The other dooplehuel probably carried Menon and Metris.

  The lookout sounded the alarm, and set off to gather together those who were on duty at the dock. The four craft had a following wind as they sailed up the lower reaches of the Kapuas, and they tied up at the docks before the lookout returned with Shellport’s medicine woman.

  “I thought you were a dead man,” said Hudnee to Battrick, as they stepped onto the dock. He was reliving yet again the moment when the many-legged Invardii war machine had trapped two of the torpedo team underneath it, shortly after the team had beached the torpedo unit on an island at the Barrens.

  Battrick nodded, and bowed his head for a moment.

  “I was,” he said, matter-of-factly, “until you twisted that rod and stopped that burning orange scum in their tracks.”

  A crowd was now gathering to greet the new arrivals, and they both looked up as Daneesa and Menona pushed their way to the front of it. Daneesa pulled back one hand and drove a hard right into Hudnee’s face, glancing her fist off his cheek. It hurt her hand like crazy, but she knew better than to try a roundhouse slap, which he would easily have stopped by catching her wrist.