Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)
Page 115
Grace didn’t know what to do. The shock of seeing anyone coming after her with an axe, combined with that someone being her best friend, rendered her helpless—or so she thought.
Without thinking, Grace grabbed the handle of the axe mid-swing. She stared at her friend in the eyes for a second, seeing genuine hurt. It wasn’t the homicidal look she expected to see. Easily overpowering the smaller Aliza, Grace yanked the handle of the axe forward, smashing it into Aliza’s face.
Aliza staggered backward, then fell in a heap, dazed and nearly unconscious from the blow.
“Why’d you make me do that?” screamed Grace. “Why’d you do this?”
Aliza looked up at her, then slumped over, a nasty gash on her forehead where Grace realized the handle had hit her much harder than she’d thought. She was surprised by her own strength in that moment—powered, no doubt, by her own adrenaline.
Grace tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. She spun around to Dash, but his chest—what was left of it—wasn’t rising and falling anymore. He was dead.
It was just her and Aliza now.
Grace found the rope in the same emergency bin as the axe, and tied her best friend up. Then she dragged her out of the bridge.
“So what are you going to do?” asked Dash.
Grace had stopped screaming. The black, oil-like substance was still seeping through Dash’s teeth and out of his mouth, but somehow she found her voice.
“What are you?” she whispered.
“This is all in your mind, remember?” Dash said with a sickly smile as the black liquid bubbled out of his mouth. “You should be asking yourself that same question, Grace Silva.”
Dash rose out of his co-pilot’s chair and started pacing around the bridge, his entrails dragged behind him.
“Wha—What do you mean?”
“Oh, Grace,” Dash said. “How have you survived? If this was all Aliza’s doing, why did she spare you? After all, you were sleeping in the medical bay, right? Easy prey if I ever heard of it.”
“I…” Grace figured she’d been spared because maybe there was still a part of her friend in there that didn’t want to harm her.
“You know why. It’s right there at the forefront of your mind, but you just don’t want to admit it.”
“Admit what?” Grace said meekly.
Dash stopped pacing. He turned and smiled again at Grace. “C’mon. You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself. Was it Aliza who picked up that rock? Or was it you? Think hard.”
Grace dredged her memory for what had happened, what felt like no more than an hour ago.
She felt the box calling out for her, screaming at her to grab it.
Then she and Aliza had reached for it at the same time.
And then—
She gasped. “That’s not…”
“Possible? We both know it is.”
Suddenly she remembered easily powering her way out of that medical bay bed and throwing Aliza against the wall, knocking her out while inadvertently sparing her from the same fate as the rest of the crew.
Almost in a dream, she watched herself brutalizing Janet after her limbs turned into something more akin to medieval weapons than human appendages. She remembered rapidly slashing Mr. Kim’s face, almost taking it clean off the bone. The memory of impaling her brother-in-law hit her hard in the gut.
Grace threw up again, but this time it wasn’t bile. It was the black liquid from the alien stone.
It oozed its way back into her mouth. That last horrible memory came back to her, of sneaking up onto the bridge and gutting her co-pilot. The same corpse she imagined she was talking to now.
“No, this isn’t true. You’re messing with my mind somehow. I didn’t kill them! They’re my friends!”
Dash grabbed his own intestines and held them up in front of him with a warped smile, far too wide to be natural. “I’m your friend now. We’re your friends now. Embrace it. Embrace the darkness.”
“No!” Grace could feel her control slipping. It was an odd sensation, having an intruder in her mind taking over her body.
“Give in. That’s it. Let us help you find peace...” Dash’s words trailed off as he returned to the relatively fresh corpse he was in reality.
Grace found herself being pulled back into and through darkness, far from the light of her own mind. Everything disappeared as she floated aimlessly in the pitch black.
The Shapeless creature that had taken over her body leaned forward and flipped the switch to turn on Madeline’s intercom.
“Turning engines off now. Ready to receive boarding party.”
BONUS BOOK
We hope you enjoyed the Oblivion series! It was released on a regular monthly schedule that started almost a year ago.
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Outcast Starship Series
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Annihilation!
Vengeance!
Deception!
Damnation!
Onslaught!
Infliction!
Preface
Annihilation! is based on a certain type of Golden Age space opera. Stories in which hard science isn't a concern; in which the planets and moons of our solar system are habitable and full of alien races and strange monsters. Here we mean tales that unashamedly toss in wild super-science; where there are sea monsters in the oceans of Pluto; where being a skilled swordsman is an essential survival skill on Mars; where daring explorers are commonly threatened by multi-tentacled Lovecraftian monsters. In short, this is old-fashioned adventure sci-fi. We hope you have as much fun reading it as we did writing it!
One
31 Hours Until Annihilation
“That’s trouble,” Eli whispered to himself as he peered through his specs at the valley below. He patted his hip where his laser pistol should be, then cursed himself. He’d left it on the ship. Of course. Eli always expected the worst. It was the follow-through that tripped him up.
Like the other three in the landing party, he was on his stomach in the dirt, pressed up against a small outcropping. The sky above was a ruddy shade of gray. He’d felt relatively well hidden until a moment ago, when the full scale of what he was seeing below began to dawn on him.
Millions of spherical objects were lined up in rows as far as he could see. They looked like giant bugs with round, squat heads that dwarfed the rocks and thin vegetation. Their long, bulbous shadows extended across the valley floor. They were arranged in a concentric pattern around what appeared to be a curved amphitheater. Inside it was a large array of electronic equipment that was pulsing with light and energy.
“They look like Socalon ships,” Eli said to the others. “They’re the only race close enough to penetrate this sector of space.”
“Are they mechanical or organic?” Jood asked.
Eli lowered his specs and glanced at the alien. He could practically see the wheels turning in his squarish orange head. “You tell me, Jood.” The Xynnar’s actual name was unpronounceable, but Jood was as close as anything.
“Those pivoting devices on their sides appear to be some kind of weapons system,” Jood said.
Eli looked again. Maybe. Even with specs, his vision couldn’t match his alien friend’s.
Eli’s daughter, Quinn, was on his other side. “Where did they all come from?” she breathed.
That was a good question, Eli thought. A better question was, how fast can we get away from here?
“Damn, they’re ugly,” the final member of the party growled from a couple of steps away. Waylon was up on one knee and far too ex
posed. He had a laser pistol in his meaty hand that he was using to scratch his chin. Waylon was always ready for trouble, which was good, since he was always starting it.
“That’s almost funny coming from you,” Eli said.
Waylon swiveled in Eli’s direction and cracked one of his fiendish grins. Dozens of scars crisscrossed his face. His crooked, broken teeth transformed his features into a demonic mask of horror. “Maybe I could stroll down there and say hello. That would send them running back to their holes.”
“That’s an idea,” Eli said. One look at that face would strike fear into the heart of the most bloodthirsty Kadibon, he thought. “But let’s just file it away for the moment.”
Waylon grunted and cracked his knuckles. “Suit yourself.”
Quinn eased closer to Eli’s shoulder. “What else can you see down there, Dad? Can you make out any markings?”
He clicked through the magnification settings on his specs. They were old and creaky—Eli knew the feeling—but they eventually complied.
“None,” he said. “Which means they probably aren’t Socalons.”
“What about the compound eyes on the front?” Quinn asked. “That looks Socalon from here.”
“Those aren’t compound eyes,” Eli said. “Take a look through the specs. That’s a curved glass viewport on the front of each one, which means there’s a cockpit inside with a pilot in control.”
He handed her the specs, and she held them to her eyes. “What about the legs? They have to be organic. How else would they move around?”
“You can see they don’t have legs. They’re just sitting there—” Eli caught himself. Why am I explaining this? “This doesn’t concern us, Quinn. We have the package. Let’s get back to the Boomerang and get out of here before they—”
Eli froze as the huge pulsing array went dark for a moment, then exploded into brilliant life. Screens and control panels and holographic readers blinked into glowing activity.
At the same instant, all the round things all over the valley switched alive, too. Every one of them sprouted six jointed legs underneath and pivoted to a standing position.
“That’s not freaky or anything,” Waylon said.
Eli stared down at the scene, and a chill ran up his spine. Now the whole party could make out as clear as day that the spheres were some class of unknown craft preparing to launch. The blue-green light from the displays reflected off their millions of glass viewports.
Quinn sucked air between her teeth. “Oh my God.”
A clear image appeared on the huge screen. It depicted a star graphic of the galaxy. Eli hardly dared to blink as the view began to swirl through the stars. Unknown systems coalesced, linked together by a curvilinear path. At first, Eli couldn’t make heads or tails of the star patterns, but as he watched, one grew closer and closer. As the planetary objects within the system came into focus, he realized the path was heading straight toward…
“That’s Earth!” Quinn’s face went pale. She straightened to stand up.
Eli shot out a hand and yanked her back. “No, you don’t! Get down.”
His gaze was riveted to the softly pulsing image of Earth. It had been a long time since he’d seen the shimmering blue planet. She was a beauty, even in this context.
The round devices flexed their many legs and bounded into the sky. One after another, they took to the air, whistling into the heavens. They floated away into space and left the valley yawning empty and vacant.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Nobody breathed.
Then Waylon rose to his feet and peered down into the valley. He shrugged. “Show’s over.”
Quinn struggled against Eli’s hold. “We gotta do something, Dad! They’re on their way to Earth!”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Eli said.
“She’s almost certainly correct,” Jood pointed out.
As usual, the alien’s choice of when to chime in was impeccably bad, Eli thought. “See, Jood agrees with me.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Quinn said.
“Let’s not argue semantics,” Eli said. “The point is, we’re not doing anything but getting back to the Boomerang. We’ve got what we came here for—“
“Amen,” Waylon said as he holstered his laser pistol.
“—and besides,” Eli said, “we could never stand up to those things. Come on.”
He hugged the package, a foil-wrapped bundle inside a thin metal case, under his arm and inched down the slope, away from the valley. Jood and Waylon scooted back, too, but Quinn resisted. Eli yanked her more than once to pull her away. “Come on! We got a job to do.”
“We can’t—”
“You’re the one that wanted to be out here, remember?”
Quinn looked hurt. She’d still been a toddler when he’d been banned from Earth and his wife, Vela, had disowned him. But Vela was gone now and Quinn had come out here looking for a connection with a father she only knew by reputation.
Eli sighed. “I’ll have Jood send a message along the Backbone when we get back. Lowest priority.” He held up his hand as he saw her start to protest. “That’s the best I can do.”
The Backbone was a diffuse series of data relays that were stratified by priority, and priority cost credits. Credits Eli didn’t have. Most of the galaxy was priced out of sending long-distance messages.
“Not coming out of my share,” Waylon growled.
Quinn glared at him.
“I’ll cover it,” Eli hissed. “Now can we get the hell out of here?”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned and slid down to the bottom of the hill, somehow managing to keep hold of Quinn as he did so. He put his feet on the ground and set off across the rubble field. The Boomerang looked so small and insignificant in that trackless waste, but she was fast enough and nimble enough to accomplish just about any job Eli asked of her. He wouldn’t feel safe until he got back on board.
Jood straightened up at Eli’s side, but Waylon skidded the last few feet. A patter of stones accompanied him to the foot of the hill. Several larger rocks broke loose and fell, sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. Eli glanced up, but the orb things were far in the distance and drifting upward through the atmosphere. Soon they’d disappear into the stars.
Eli turned back toward the Boomerang. “Come on.”
Quinn fell in next to him, but she kept casting backward glances toward the hill. Whatever those things were doing here, she’d get over it once she got back behind the Boomerang’s pilot’s station, Eli told himself.
Eli needed to concentrate on getting his ship back to Epsilon Outpost, where he could hand over the package and collect payment. Everything depended on that.
In nearly twenty-five years of running jobs of questionable legal and moral provenance on the periphery of known space, Eli had learned a long time ago which side his bread was buttered on. Getting paid and staying alive long enough to spend it took priority over every other consideration.
Quinn bumped into him. When he glanced over, she was walking backwards and pawing at his sleeve without looking, staring behind her. Eli frowned down at her. “What are you—”
A shattering blast bowled him off his feet and pulverized the ground behind him.
Two
Jood charged past him. “We must run!”
He might be an alien, Eli thought, but when he had a point, he had a point.
“That bastard ain’t beating me,” Waylon snarled as he sprinted after Jood.
Eli caught a fleeting glimpse of one of the round ships from the valley. It shot overhead, pelting its fire all around the little party. Debris and stone spattered Eli’s cheeks.
He looked around for Quinn but she was already up and moving.
Eli bolted forward as well, stumbling, tripping and charging over the rubble field. He gripped the package for dear life and never slowed his pace. He didn’t have to look behind him. More of those things streaked overhead, pounding their fire on all sides.
Quinn
screamed and dove sideways to dodge a rocket smashing at her feet. Without breaking stride, Eli dove in her direction and hauled her nearly off her feet as he plowed forward for the Boomerang.
Jood and Waylon easily outpaced Eli and Quinn. Jood evaded every obstacle with his usual lithe, fluid movements. He floated over the ground without tripping once.
Waylon cursed and spat as he went. He staggered and fell forward onto his hands more than once, but he still made better progress than Eli.
Quinn screamed every time one of those rockets hit too close. She darted to veer away from each explosion, which slowed her down more than it should have. Unlike the rest of Eli’s crew, she wasn’t used to being chased and shot at. Give it time, he thought.
Eli locked his gaze on the Boomerang. The all-too-familiar whine of the ship’s engine powering up echoed across the field. His spirit gave a leap at the sound. The aileron thrusters pivoted downward and the outriggers retracted. Through the cockpit window, he spotted big River Israel behind the pilot’s station. Good old River. Eli could always trust her to know what to do, and when.
The lower hatch opened and the ramp purred down to the ground. Jood bounded up it and inside the ship before the ramp had fully extended. Waylon followed close on his heels. That left Eli and Quinn, but they were still too far away.
One of the orbs whined over Eli’s head and unleashed a blistering barrage of rocket fire, but it wasn’t shooting at him and Quinn anymore. His lips curled back from his teeth and he snarled when three more soared into view. The bastards! They were shooting at the Boomerang. They could shoot at him all day long, but he wouldn’t tolerate them threatening his ship. No way in hell.
River stooped forward and peered up through the cockpit window. More of those round attackers clustered around the ship at every second.
The Boomerang wobbled, and the landing gear retracted. River held the vessel a few feet off the ground, waiting for Eli and Quinn. His stomach twisted when an enemy rocket struck the starboard hull. The Boomerang was in a lot more danger right now than he was.