by Ken Lozito
Colonel Cross swung her gaze back to Gibson, who flinched. “Explain yourself, Field Ops Captain.”
Colonial Defense Force authority superseded any authority the Field Ops captain had, and he knew it. “The people are scared. I was trying to demonstrate our ability to protect them.”
Colonel Cross arched an eyebrow. “Forcibly?” she said, and Gibson stubbornly met her gaze. Colonel Cross glanced to the soldier on her right. “Captain Gleason, take the Field Ops team into custody. Find somewhere to hold them, and I’ll deal with them later.”
“Excuse me, Colonel,” Lenora said, “but I know of a place you can use.”
“Thank you—” Colonel Cross said and stopped.
“Dr. Bishop,” Lenora said.
Colonel Cross frowned. “Lenora Bishop?”
“You can’t do this!” Captain Gibson cried while struggling with a CDF soldier.
“That’s about enough of that, Captain,” Colonel Cross snapped. “If you don’t get yourself under control, I’ll order my soldiers to gag you. Is that understood?”
Captain Gibson’s face paled.
Colonel Cross leaned forward. “And just because I’m feeling a bit indulgent, I’ll tell you another reason why firing that cannon as a way to make everyone feel better for a few fleeting moments is a bad idea. The Vemus are coming. Long-range scanners detected the discharge of orbital defense weapons. In other words, your pitiful attempt to get your gun off would have painted a great big target in the one place we don’t want the Vemus to find. Does that clear up any misgivings you might have had?”
Captain Gibson’s mouth made a wide circle, but no words came out.
Colonel Cross looked at Captain Gleason. “As you were, Captain.”
Noah watched as the Field Operations and Security team was escorted away from the mobile Command Center.
“Dr. Bishop, would you join me inside?” Colonel Cross said. “And you too, Captain Barker.”
Noah followed them inside and went to the nearest terminal to make sure the startup power sequence for the colossus cannon had been properly shut down.
“Please, call me Lenora.”
Colonel Cross nodded. “And you can call me Savannah.”
Noah stepped away from the terminal and looked at Colonel Cross.
“Go ahead and ask, Captain,” Colonel Cross said.
“I thought you were in command of Phoenix Station, ma’am,” Noah said.
He watched as the colonel pressed her lips together to suppress a sneer.
“Ordinarily, I would dress you down for asking that kind of question of a superior officer, but General Gates and a few others have warned me of some of your eccentricities,” Colonel Cross said.
Noah felt his cheeks redden. “Apologies, Colonel.”
Colonel Cross glanced at Lenora. “It seems that General Gates is a bit of a stickler for certain rules and regulations.”
Lenora snorted. “When it wins him an argument.”
Colonel Cross chuckled. “You are the Lenora I’ve heard about.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It’s not important,” Colonel Cross said. “General Gates has sent me to Sanctuary, and I need to know our state of readiness.”
Noah still didn’t understand why Connor would send someone as capable as Savannah Cross to Sanctuary when the Vemus were coming, but he didn’t need to understand to follow his orders. Colonel Cross had a reputation for not tolerating nonsense.
“One hundred thousand refugees are at Sanctuary. The colossus cannon is operational, but we’ve been experiencing power fluctuations from the alien power station, ma’am,” Noah said.
“Can you fix it?” Colonel Cross asked.
“The power station is hundreds of years old. If I had enough time, I’d say it would be better to put our own reactor here, ma’am,” Noah said.
“Break it down for me. Can we fire the cannon or not?” Colonel Cross asked.
Noah frowned. “We can, but—and this is a strong but—we can’t predict the power fluctuations. The power converter we’ve installed attempts to manage them, but there’s a significant risk that when the colossus cannon is fired in earnest, it could overload the entire system.”
“So you’re saying we have a gun that we can fire a few times, but if we sustain a high rate of fire the system will fail?” Colonel Cross asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What happens if the system fails?”
“It depends. The power converter could burn out, or if there’s enough of an overload, we could lose the entire system in an explosion,” Noah answered.
Colonel Cross blew out a breath and regarded him for a moment. “You have quite a reputation, so I know you’ve been working this problem for as long as you’ve been here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Noah said.
“I can tell you with absolute certainty that the Vemus are on their way here right now. We’ve engaged them at Sagan’s line, and General Gates evacuated all nonessential personnel from Phoenix Station,” Colonel Cross said.
Noah swallowed hard. “What happened?”
Colonel Cross leaned back against one of the desks. “We used your modified missile design and sent everything we had against them.”
“Did it work?” Noah asked.
“At first. Then the Vemus launched countermeasures and were able to take out a high percentage of the HADES IV-Bs before they could reach their targets,” Colonel Cross said, glancing at Lenora. “I’m not sure how much either of you knows.”
“We haven’t had any news,” Lenora said.
“The Vemus are heading here in one massive ship, and the hull is made from the exoskeletal material we faced two months ago,” Colonel Cross said.
“How big is the ship, Colonel?” Noah asked.
Colonel Cross looked at them grimly. “Twenty-two kilometers across.”
Noah’s eyes widened and he gasped. “That’s not a ship. That’s a flying city.”
“We know the Vemus can absorb other ships. We think they’ve massed together somehow,” Colonel Cross said.
“But why would they do that?” Lenora asked.
Colonel Cross shrugged. “This is likely their answer to our defenses. Together in one massive ship, they represent a single overwhelming force.”
Noah’s mind raced as he did the calculations. “We don’t have enough missiles.”
“No, we don’t,” Colonel Cross confirmed.
“What about the rest of the soldiers at Phoenix Station?” Lenora asked.
“They couldn’t confirm the amount of damage we’d done. Phoenix Station still has other close-range weapons that will make the Vemus pay for every kilometer closer they get to New Earth,” Colonel Cross said.
“What are their chances?” Lenora said, her eyes wide.
Colonel Cross looked at her solemnly and sighed. “I’m going to be honest with you. I’m sorry, but the chances of survival for anyone on Phoenix Station are virtually nonexistent.”
Noah watched as Lenora’s breath caught in her throat. Then her eyes flashed. “Connor has survived overwhelming odds before.”
“I know. I was there. I wish I could tell you something different to give you some hope, but that would be a disservice to you,” Colonel Cross said.
Lenora turned away from them. “I need to get some air,” she muttered and fled the Command Center.
Noah looked at the colonel, and she nodded for him to speak.
“What do you need me to do, Colonel?” Noah asked.
“You have a little bit of time. I need that cannon operational for as long as you can give me. What we cannot have is blowing ourselves up in the process. You tell me what you need and I’ll try and get it for you,” Colonel Cross said.
Noah nodded, feeling suddenly lighter because Colonel Cross was there, but then he was dragged back down by the impending invasion. He began with what anyone solving complex problems should do, which was to start by listing their assets. Then
they could come up with a plan of action. Noah and Colonel Cross got to work. He didn’t know why Connor would have sent her here, but he was glad he had.
18
Captain Walker waited outside the dull gray doors to the munitions factory aboard a large chunk of Vemus warship wreckage. He’d been watching the Vemus forces through the small window. Their skin was a deep, dark purple that glistened in the light. Their rounded heads angled to a pointed snout with lighter-toned oval shapes where Jon expected the eyes would be. They were clustered at the far end of the room. One of the Vemus towered above the others and pounded against the door while the others tried to beat their fists against the wall.
I’m coming, Brian, Jon thought. He could barely see the salvage team trapped in the room on the far side of the munitions factory floor. He checked his rifle and set the nano-robotic ammunition to incendiary. The high heat rounds worked best at disabling Vemus, according to his combat suit computer. Sergeant Lee and Lieutenant Chester hastened down the corridor. They’d just finished setting up the heavy turret, leaving the ammunition box attached. Jon accessed the heavy turret’s camera and controls through his combat suit’s systems. All systems were ready.
“Locked and loaded, Captain,” Sergeant Lee said.
“Check your weapons,” Jon said.
There was a flurry of activity as they all did one final check of their equipment, along with that of the people around them.
“We’re ready, Captain,” Lieutenant Chester said, giving him a determined look.
“Go ahead, Sergeant Lee, if you please,” Jon said.
“Detonating the first group,” Sergeant Lee said.
Jon heard the faint pops of the concussive charges and watched to see if the Vemus had heard anything. The Vemus soldiers ceased all activity and became rigidly still.
Sergeant Lee held up two of his fingers. There were more pops even louder than before. The Vemus soldiers began moving off to the side and out of sight—a few at a time at first and then more and more.
“It’s working!” Jon said.
All the Vemus had run off, leaving the area. Jon slapped his palm against the door controls and the age-old contraption sputtered as the gears pulled the doors apart. They went inside. Jon kept the heavy turret’s camera feed in the upper right corner of his heads-up display. There was still no sign of the Vemus.
“Blow the third group,” Jon said.
He didn’t wait for Sergeant Lee to respond but kept moving forward. They crouched as they ran, using the munitions factory lines as cover. Tall metal racks stood along the left side of the factory where two-hundred-year-old mag-cannon projectiles were secured in place. There were countless tips of two-meter projectiles perfectly aligned where the NA Alliance Navy had left them. Jon focused in on the room at the far end, and an IR channel opened to his combat suit.
“Jon, is that you?” Brian asked in disbelief.
“We’ve lured them away. This is your chance to get out. Come on, let’s go,” Jon said.
Jon heard someone shouting over the comms channel. They were yelling for Brian to open the door.
“What are you waiting for?” Jon asked.
“Jon, please stop,” Brian said. “It’s not safe for you. Take your team and get out of here.”
“What are you talking about?” Jon asked.
He noticed some movement from the video feed of the heavy turret. The Vemus were making a sweep of the area. Jon and the others reached the end of the line of racks and stopped. He held his AR-71 ready and peered around the corner. The Vemus were gone. They hadn’t left anyone to guard the prisoners. Jon crossed over to the door where Brian waited. The door control panel was broken and charred.
“Stop. We’ve been infected. We can’t go back with you even if we wanted to,” Brian said.
Jon heard more shouting and saw Captain Davis screaming for his brother to open the door.
Brian was pointing a pistol at Captain Davis. “Stay back,” Brian said. “I’ll shoot.”
Another IR channel connected to Jon’s combat armor.
“Walker, your brother is crazy. We’re not infected. Tell him to let us go,” Captain Davis said.
“Brian, you’ve got to calm down. We can figure this out. Come with me,” Jon said.
He heard Lieutenant Chester mention they were running out of time.
Brian turned back toward the window. “Trust me, Jon,” Brian said.
Jon felt as if he were hearing an echo of every time Brian had asked him to trust him. They were only a year apart in age, and no matter what they were doing, his younger brother was always there for him. Even after Jon left, Brian was always there when it counted.
Captain Davis screamed for Jon to open the door.
“Sir, the Vemus are at the turret,” Sergeant Lee said.
“Activate the turret,” Jon ordered.
He looked back through the window, trying to find some sign that the people inside the room were infected.
“You don’t look sick,” Jon said.
Brian swallowed. “We are. We’ve all been exposed. First comes the virus and then the parasite, except it works like nothing we’ve ever seen before. The virus alters the DNA of the host, allowing the parasite in, which takes over the host. It causes genes to express at an astonishing rate—never mind that. We’re already dead.”
Jon felt his throat become thick. “What if you’re wrong?”
Brian glared at him. “Do I tell you how to fly a ship? Shoot a gun? No, because you know what you’re doing. I’m not wrong.”
“How did you even get exposed?” Jon asked.
Brian shook his head. “No time. There’s more, much more I learned about them. Things the CDF can use. They’re like nothing we’ve ever seen.”
An uplink registered with Jon’s combat suit computer using an active comlink. Jon’s eyes widened. The Vemus could detect active comlinks.
“What are you doing? You’ll bring them right to us!” Jon said.
“It’s the only way to transfer the data fast enough. IR bandwidth is too narrow and the transfer will take too long,” Brian said.
Jon slammed his fists against the metallic door. “What if you’re wrong?”
Brian was watching Davis, who looked as if he were about to charge forward, pistol or not. Jon’s gaze narrowed. Where were the salvage team’s weapons? How did they only have a pistol? An alarm appeared on his internal heads-up display. The heavy turret was nearly out of ammunition. The video feed showed a corridor littered with the bodies of Vemus soldiers. There was a moving shadow along the ceiling, and the feed cut out. The heavy turret was offline.
“Captain—” Lieutenant Chester cried.
“I know,” Jon said and looked back at his brother behind the smudgy window. A series of high-pitched whistles and clicks came from the corridor.
“Contact!” Sergeant Lee shouted.
Jon swung his rifle up and fired his weapon at a Vemus soldier. He took cover by the nearest rack, and the rest of the team did the same. They kept the Vemus pinned in the corridor. Dark liquid burst from their bodies. White bolts flew by as the Vemus returned fire.
Jon heard a startled cry from the IR channel and then heard the pistol go off from inside the room. Jon called out for his brother. The door opened, and Brian stumbled out of the room. Jon went to take a step toward him and then stopped. He couldn’t risk it since Brian was infected.
Jon glanced at the grisly mess inside the room. “What have you done?” he said. Brian had killed the surviving members of the salvage team.
“They captured us. Caught us by surprise,” Brian said.
Jon looked at the splatter of blood on Brian’s EVA suit. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, and there was a layer of thick black mucus ringed around his neck.
Brian threw his pistol down. “Give me your rifle. I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”
“Captain, we can’t stay here. We have to leave. Now!” Lieutenant Chester said.
Jon look
ed over at his team as they continued to lay suppressing fire toward the Vemus.
Brian rushed toward him and tried to grab his rifle. Jon spun away.
“Go, Jon. Get the data to CDF command. The key to stopping them is in there,” Brian said.
Jon gritted his teeth and growled. He turned and fired his weapon at the Vemus. They were clustering in the doorway and were about to charge. A white bolt slammed into the end of the rack and knocked Jon off his feet. Hands grabbed him and he was pulled back. Jon regained his feet and saw that Brian was holding his rifle. Brian roared and then charged the Vemus, firing the AR-71 at full auto.
Jon cried out as his team pulled him away. He heard Brian screaming in rage until he was suddenly cut off.
“He’s gone. We have to go, Captain,” Lieutenant Chester said and took point, leading them away.
Sergeant Lee pushed him forward and Jon followed Lieutenant Chester, stumbling in a half daze. They reached another door and Jon withdrew his pistol. White bolts slammed into the door as it opened. They returned fire and hastened through the exit. There was movement to the right, and Jon fired his weapon. The Vemus charged toward them. Jon and the rest of the team ran away, firing a few rounds before retreating more. They came to the end of the corridor, and an explosive force slammed him against the wall. This place was coming apart. Jon and the others scrambled to their feet and headed for the ship in an all-out run. High-pitched whistles and clicks from the Vemus followed them. Jon glanced behind him and saw the Vemus closing in on them, propelling themselves on all fours and quickly eating up their small lead.
Jon tripped over something and dove to the ground, sliding down the corridor. He heard someone cry out as he quickly regained his feet. Specialist Thoran was sprawled on the ground behind him. He was climbing to his feet when the Vemus reached him. Jon watched in horror as a Vemus grabbed Specialist Thoran and hauled him back into the mass of soldiers as if he weighed nothing at all.
