by Paul Barrett
“Yes,” Hawk said, “So it’s by the numbers. You’re on point, Wolf is rear guard.”
They nodded. Ashron, standing to the side, pushed open the door. When no gunshots, laser blasts, or explosions were forthcoming, he chanced a glance.
It was not at all what he expected. The sun shone through the structure’s micro-organic layer, spreading pale green light through the building. It revealed a space devoid of anything except a set of stairs leading into the ground near the entrance. Ashron sniffed. The building had a stale, unused smell. He detected an undercurrent of something less pleasant, a whiff of decay emanating from the stairs.
He stepped inside; the others followed. They all moved silently across the micro-organic floor. He felt the scratching roughness of the material through his soft-soled boots. It gave him the creeps.
He started down the concrete steps, thankful to be off the strange floor. Every few steps he would pause and listen, testing the air to see if everything “felt” right. The dim green light quickly died out, leaving the stairwell in darkness. He could see well despite the lack of illumination, but he knew Hawk and Wolf would be activating their enhancement contacts soon. He continued down the stairs in his routine. Move, stop, test. Move, stop, test. All of them were careful to stay centered on the stairway and not near the walls, although Wolf had to move sideways to do so. A piece of equipment scraping on stone acted like a beacon in the dark.
Ashron paused again, kneeling down to get a different perspective. His eyesight enabled him to see deeper into the infrared spectrum than even the technology available to the crew members. This visual acuity allowed him to notice the thin beam of light running across the opening at the foot of the stairs. The beam ran about thirty centimeters off the floor. Easy to avoid, as long as you knew it was there. Ashron assumed it was a system to alert the people within the compound, similar to devices used in stores to notify staff of a customer’s arrival. This group of customers, however, wanted their visit to be a surprise. Ashron had already seen all the selling points of an excavation laser he cared to know about.
Motioning with his hands, he outlined the laser and then cautiously stepped over the beam. The hallway ran about seven meters in both directions, each path terminating at a closed door. A quick scan proved both ways clear. He waved the others down.
At a signal from Hawk, Ashron moved down the right-hand corridor. Wolf took up a position at the foot of the stairs, obtaining what little protection the wall offered his bulk. He covered the unsecured left hallway while Hawk followed Ashron.
They reached the door and Hawk signaled for Wolf to join them. As Wolf backed down the hallway, Ashron examined the door. It was dull gray metal except for a bar-shaped handle. He saw no traps, but they had no way of scanning the room beyond. Ashron put his ear to the wall and heard the sound of muffled machinery. A scream of agony followed. Hawk’s lips thinned and turned white beneath his mustache, and Ashron knew his captain had also heard the sound. Ashron put his hand on the handle and Hawk nodded.
Ashron turned the handle and pushed the door open. He ran through the doorway, followed by Hawk. Wolf stormed in behind them.
No one took notice of them for a few seconds, which gave them ample time to scan the room. The more they saw, the more horrified they became.
The room was, roughly thirty meters long by fifteen wide. Ten men stood at various metal tables, and three sat at a large computer console. The men at the tables wore long coats that had been white at one time, now stained with blood. Another man, wearing a black robe, chanted and hovered around a large glass sphere filled with sickly orange light.
Around the tables sat pieces of equipment that looked as if they had been borrowed from Satan’s antechamber. Gore covered blades and spikes dominated. On the tables lay what could only vaguely be described as people, each lashed to their table with thick metal straps. Wires ran to various parts of their bodies, trailing across the floor over to the computer console. Most of them had been completely stripped of their skin. Several had sharp metal prongs sticking half a meter out of their arms. Hanging down from the top of these prongs were four thin metal wires that ended in hooks. Lying over these hooks were strands of muscles that had been pulled up from the forearm; sinew torn away from the limb.
Hawk’s mind whirled. Like the vital piece in a jigsaw puzzle that makes the rest fall into place, this scene put all the recent events into their proper order. The reason behind Moran’s insanity became crystal clear, and Hawk almost wept at the depravity caused by his old friend’s twisted logic.
Hawk didn’t want to consider it right now; refused to consider it. All he wanted to do at this moment was stop it. Destroy it. Make it burn.
One of the men in the blood-splattered robes noticed them. Before he could say anything, Hawk opened fire.
The technicians looked up for the cause of the noise. Blood and charred flesh flew as five of them fell dead under Hawk’s gunfire.
Caught off guard, Ashron and Wolf hesitated. When one of the men sitting behind the computer console drew a small pistol and aimed it at Hawk, that hesitation disappeared. Ashron unloaded his gun, firing until all three of the operators lay slumped in their chairs. One ended up sprawled over the console as sparks leaped from the destroyed machine.
The other five technicians had managed to find cover. They had no weapons, so they could do nothing but gibber as Wolf moved in and shot them.
Hawk focused on the glass sphere with its churning amber glow. The mage stood behind the globe. His eyes slowly grew alert, as if he woke from a dream and realized too late something was amiss. Hawk fired at the mage and struck the globe. Laser light refracted as the glass shattered, sending shards whickering through the air at deadly speeds. Released from its containment field, the stored aether flew outward with a cry of banshees. As orange light struck nearby equipment, pieces exploded. Metal scattered with a cascade of orange and blue sparks. Several shards slammed into the mage, and he staggered back, wounded.
Hawk and the others ducked, avoiding the lethal slivers as they buried themselves in the walls and the dying flesh on the tables.
Hawk kept his head down as sound and fire flooded the room. The smell of burning wire hit his nose. Shaking off a sudden chill, he saw the vague outlines of creatures from a nightmare vision of hell. Horned, winged, and scaled, they resembled a madman’s mash-up of a snake and bat. Orange and blue fire limned their long, legless bodies. Sharply curved teeth hung in their giant round mouths as they roared in silent fury. They smashed at the equipment, their strikes destroying anything they touched. As their incorporeal forms passed through the tables, the mangled flesh on the metal slabs screamed a sound of agony almost beyond endurance. Hawk lowered his head and covered his ears, waiting for the bad dream to pass. He had seen these beings years before and had prayed never to see them again.
The explosions soon died down as the energy expended itself. Hawk stood up with the others. Flames and smoke packed the room and equipment lay in scattered pieces. Where the manipulator had stood there was little more than splashes of blood on the walls and floor and a few shreds of black cloth. The creatures trapped in the aetheric sphere had extracted their revenge. Hawk shuddered.
“We’d better go,” Ashron said, sneezing as the acrid electrical smoke irritated his sensitive nose.
“In a minute,” Hawk said in a shaky voice. He went to each of the masses of flesh. Some were dead; he put a shot through the heads of any still twitching. Seared flesh joined the mélange of odors in the room.
When he finished, Hawk’s eyes played over the burning, destroyed lab for a moment. “Now we can go.”
As they left the room and started back up the stairs, Ashron said, “Would you like to tell me what that was all about?”
“Later,” Hawk said.
They ascended the stairway and exited the building to find five concerned faces staring at them.
“I thought I told you to stay in the castle,” Hawk said.
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p; “We heard explosions, and Gerard said he felt the tainted energy of a malevolum,” Laura explained. “We were about to come down. What happened?”
“I’ll explain on the way up.” Hawk looked at the two servants. “Do these two have a home?”
“Kâmil doma?” Ashron asked Kalae.
The boy nodded and pointed in a direction across the field. “Doma sevil wës.” He quickly explained to Ashron that they were taken in lieu of a tax burden their parents could not pay. Ashron relayed all this to Hawk.
“Tell them they’re free to go,” Hawk said. “They won’t be bothered by the screams anymore.”
As Ashron did so, Hawk said, “Ship?”
“Here, Captain,” she responded. “Good to hear from you again. Do you realize the people up here have run a coded override on all my systems? They’re holding me prisoner.” Ship sounded insulted.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Can you break them?”
“Of course, their coding is sloppy. However, I don’t think you want me to.”
“Why not?”
“To lock me down, they had to feed in a signal from their system, which allowed me to log in, so I have the run of the station. By the way, they’ve been sending a distress signal, saying that we shot up the station and have corrupted the planet. I’ve been sending replies saying help is on the way from several sectors.”
“Good girl. If you override, you’ll lose the connection with their system, and they’ll realize they’ve been duped.”
“Affirmative.”
“Send down their shuttle, would you? They’ll realize something’s wrong, but they won’t be able to do anything about it.” Hawk said with a wicked grin.
“Affirmative,” Ship said. “The shuttle will be there in twenty-three minutes.”
As Hawk turned back to the group, Kalae and Kerlai were running, smiles on their faces.
“They’re going back to their home,” Ashron told him. “They said thanks.”
“Okay,” Hawk told the group. “Our ride is here in twenty. Ashron, I want you to take some of those incendiaries, go back down there, and make that place burn. I don’t want anything left. The rest of us will be at the front of the castle.”
“Why not just activate the microorganisms?” Ashron asked.
Hawk gave Ashron a dead-eyed stare that made the Lorothian shiver. “Because I want it to burn.”
Ashron nodded. As the others jogged toward the front of the castle, Ashron ran toward the building, confused and unnerved by Hawk’s demeanor. He had no problem with Hawk’s decision to kill everyone in the macabre lab they stumbled upon, but the captain was usually more level-headed. I’m the one who would go in guns blazing, Ashron thought as he reached the stairwell and began his descent. And then have Hawk mad at me because I didn’t leave someone alive to interrogate.
And while burning such a grisly scene seemed more than fitting, it erased a major piece of evidence. Again, something he, not Hawk, would do.
Ashron reached the lab, trying to focus on nothing as he set a twenty second delay and popped the tops on three incendiary grenades. He had seen enough of the lab’s contents the first time around.
He lobbed them into three areas of the room and dashed back to the stairway corridor. He waited at the intersection until he heard the whompf of the grenades detonating. A gust of heated air passed him, and he saw reflections of the orange-white flame as it danced through the room. He tossed another grenade down the other hallway and then ran up the steps. He didn’t want to get caught in any secondary explosions.
Though Hawk had put his question aside for the moment, Ashron expected an answer soon. The crew never questioned orders, but they were encouraged to question motives. Although Ashron understood Hawk’s reaction to such pronounced evil, it seemed they had missed a prime chance to discover and eradicate the greater evil behind it all.
He reached the others and found them standing or sitting near the castle front. A glum expression was on every face. He also understood that reaction, though he had trouble condoning it. Gloom was for the dead or dying, and they were still alive and kicking. “Well, it’s burning like a hundred-year-olds’ birthday cake,” he said. “So, Hawk, I was won—”
“Later,” Hawk said, giving Ashron another chilling glare.
Ashron flicked his tongue in thought and remained quiet. He kept his concerns to himself as they waited for the shuttle.
20
The Commander’s Explanation
“Docking in sixty seconds, Captain,” Ship informed Hawk as the shuttle glided toward the outpost. “Engaging auto landing tractor in ten seconds. Ashron, adjust your vector twenty- seven degrees and fire your back thrusters.”
“Roger,” Ashron said, hands moving the joystick.
As Ashron maneuvered, Hawk stared out the shuttle’s window and studied the outpost. Its blue-tinted metal gleamed in the sunlight, and the red Planetary Protection Services logo shone in stark contrast. Little of that gleaming façade revealed the corruption within. Despite his promise to explain, Hawk had gone to the cockpit without a word to the crew. Sitting beside him, Ashron had said nothing as he piloted the shuttle from the planet.
The station’s four gun pods hung limp, giving the vessel a sad, droopy appearance. No lights shone forth, and none of the monitoring dishes that normally rotated on the station’s surface were moving.
“You did leave them with life support, didn’t you, Ship?” Ashron asked.
“Of course. I’m not a barbarian. However, I do have all the bulkhead doors locked down, and I can pinpoint every crew member for you. Auto tractor engaging...now.”
There was a small thumping sound followed by an electronic whine that lasted three seconds before tapering off. Ashron let go of the flight controls and leaned back.
“What about weapons?” Hawk asked.
“Nothing has been taken from the station’s armory; I can’t account for any personal armaments.”
Ashron looked at Hawk. “This should be a cakewalk.”
“We’ll treat it like a boarding of any other hostile vessel, just in case.” Hawk stood up. The door separating cockpit from cabin slid open; Hawk walked through, followed by Ashron.
“We’re docking in thirty seconds,” Hawk told the crew. “Ship has the station’s crew buttoned down and can give us their locations. We don’t know if they’re armed or if they’ve rigged any improvised traps, so this is a hostile boarding as far as I’m concerned.” He looked at Trey. “I need you to remain here on guard in case things go wrong and we have to retreat. Got it?”
“You want me out of the way, you mean?”
Hawk shook his head. “I want you to follow orders, like any crew member, and your orders are to remain here until we come back or you get the all clear. Is that understood?”
Trey stood straighter and had little success in suppressing a grin. “Yes, Captain.”
With a nod, Hawk turned to the others. “Stand by to move on my mark.”
“Hello old boy,” Hawk said as he walked into the station Commander’s office with a gun pointed at the man’s chest. Commander Motash was visibly shaken to see Hawk standing in the doorway.
Despite Hawk’s concern, Ashron’s assessment of the situation had been correct. None of the men had been armed with anything more than a pocketknife. Ship had cut power and locked them down before anyone thought to move to the armory. They had personal sidearms in their cabins, but the Commander didn’t allow them to be carried on the station since he saw no practical reason for it. The Knights simply walked through and collected the scattered members of the crew, who meekly let themselves be huddled into one room. No one had even managed to get a message to the Commander that his station was being overrun.
“You,” the Commander exclaimed with a slight quiver in his voice. “I thought you were…”
“Dead?” Hawk finished for him. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Hawk stopped in front of the Commander’s desk and leaned forward. His ga
ze and pistol demanded Motash’s attention. “I’m about to teach you an important lesson. As an anonymous twentieth-century philosopher of the Southern Red Neck tribe once said, ‘If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.’”
“What are you talking about?” Commander Motash asked, regaining some of his composure.
“I’m telling you not to bother buzzing for help. The button you’ve been frantically pushing since I first walked in has been disconnected. Besides, the other seven members of this station are currently lounging in a workroom, guarded by one of my crew.”
The Commander took his hand out from under the desk. “What is it you want?”
Hawk sat down and propped his feet up on the Commander’s desk. His gun never wavered. “I want some answers, and I want them now. Who paid you off?”
“What makes you think I was paid off?”
“Don’t play games with me. I’m in no mood to play, and you’re in no position to win. Once again, who paid you off?”
“Your position isn’t as strong as you’d like to think,” the Commander said. He also assumed a comfortable posture in his chair, though his eyes revealed that he was painfully aware of the pistol pointing at him. “You do know what the penalty is for entering a restricted area, don’t you?” His voice had taken on the same pompous tone that had greeted Hawk when they first spoke. Hawk didn’t like it then and, considering recent events, found it even more annoying now.
“Death,” Hawk answered the man’s question. “The same as for embezzling funds at the expense of those very people you are supposed to protect. Not to mention the importation of technology to a restricted planet. We could also talk about torture, murder, extortion, and the fact that you’re pissing me off. Now, one more time, who’s paying you?”
“Why don’t we wait until the authorities arrive? Then you can question me all about your little charges,” the Commander’s sharp face took on a self-satisfied smirk, his black eyes gleaming with some secret delight.
