“My suit thrusters are fucked up!”
“Get to the Pop! Now!”
“What about Arty?”
“Just do it!”
Kessler and Doluda reached the docking collar. “You go ahead, Doluda. I'll wait for the others. How long? We have to get out of here! They were already within weapons range. He looked at his wrist console. Thirteen minutes.
Should I go and get them? As soon as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer. “Where the fuck are you, Nguyen?”
“I'm trying to help Arty!”
Eleven minutes. God-damn it!
Kessler waited a moment longer, and then boarded the Popovich. “We're leaving!” he shouted as a he strode into the command deck.
“What about the others?” Doluda asked, his eyes wide.
Kessler pushed Acosta out of the way. “We're all fucked if we don't get out of here.” He swung the ship around and punched the throttle. Fuck, I HATE this handyman shit!
If Caroline were here, she would have known what to do.
After the Popovich entered hyperspace, Kessler crawled into his sleeping coffin and wept.
Chapter 14: Root of Paranoia
Van Zant, feeling claustrophobic in his light battle armor, and encased in the drop capsule, again questioned his own motives. He breathed heavily while his eyes darted around the HUD on his faceplate.
Get me out of here!
“You wanted this,” Agent Kaminski, his immediate supervisor and trainer, had said as they had donned their armor back on the flight deck of the d'Entrecasteux. The man was heavy-set, with close-cropped curly black hair and a small moustache above his top lip. “Don't pull out now or you'll regret it, not to mention destroy your budding career.”
I'm scared shitless!
The Dragon's Claw was a Marine raider. Based on the Raptor class light frigate, the ship had an arrowhead-shaped hull over fifty meters long, twenty-five meters wide, and eight meters high. The crew quarters and ventral stores had been replaced with sixteen drop tubes. Kaminski and Van Zant occupied two of the tubes, and each of the other tubes held an Imperial Marine in full Kriegworks battlesuit. Six hours earlier the Dragon's Claw had emerged from the flight deck of the d'Entrecasteux and shunted into hyperspace.
Van Zant felt the familiar disorientation of exiting from hyperspace.
“Target is dead ahead,” Kaminski said over the radio. “A thousand klicks; five minutes to drop!”
I don't think I can do this!
Van Zant and Kaminski had trained for weeks with the Marines, practicing high velocity drops on small landing targets. Kaminski had seemed an old hand at it, and when Van Zant asked him if he had done it before, the man shrugged and said “it's my first time, just like you.”
Bullshit.
The clock on his helmet HUD counted down second by second as the sweat poured down his face.
“Two minutes!” Kaminski said.
Van Zant realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled and tried to control his breathing, but his heart pounded in his rib cage.
A flashing green light appeared in his HUD.
Kaminski counted down. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
Van Zant closed his eyes and felt the force of the magnetic accelerators push him up against the top of the drop capsule. He immediately felt rather than heard the pop pop pop of the explosive bolts blowing open the capsule.
He opened his eyes and saw a multitude of stars. He looked down at his feet and saw several asteroids, and then realized asteroids floated all around them.
“The bastards thought they could hide,” Kaminski had said during the briefing. “Stupid spineys.”
Van Zant looked around and saw several other figures, each clad in battlesuits. Some of the Marines began to perform stunt maneuvers, acting like the macho men they were. Van Zant laughed at their antics, and suddenly felt better.
“We're coming in fast,” Kaminski said. “Engage your inertial dampeners.”
Van Zant flicked a switch on his chest pack. A targeting reticle appeared on his HUD along with his velocity relative to the asteroid. He was coming in at over five thousand klicks per hour.
This is what you trained for.
He grasped the controls for the gravity pack. The asteroid loomed large in his HUD and the reticle targeted the Naati installation they were raiding. When the range to the asteroid on the HUD read thirty klicks, Van Zant engaged the full power of the gravity pack. The G meter on his HUD shot up to 3.5; if the inertial dampeners were not activated, he would have blacked out. Using the thumb controls for the maneuvering jets, he made slight adjustments to his course to keep on target.
As his velocity dropped, green and red beams shot out from the asteroid.
“Flak,” Kaminski said. “Hold on boys, the spineys can't shoot for shit.”
Van Zant's velocity dropped quickly, along with the charge on the battery pack. When the power ran dry, he was moving at a much slower fifty klicks per hour. Slapping a large button on his chest, he ejected the gravity pack. Another green light flashed on his HUD, and he maneuvered to the surface of the asteroid using jets of compressed carbon dioxide. He landed with a bump, but still on his feet.
I did it! He had decelerated from five thousand to fifty klicks per hour in forty seconds.
He saw the other Marines land on their feet nearby. The one closest gave him a thumbs up, and Van Zant's face flushed with pride.
They had landed on the flat bottom of a crater only a few hundred meters from the domes and towers of the installation. The rim of the crater was a ragged and tight circle of mountains. Millions of stars studded the sky, providing just enough light to see.
“Alright Sergeant Azerby, staggered vee with ten meter spacing,” Kaminski said. “The main hatch is directly ahead of us at the base of the largest dome.
“Y'all heard the man!” Azerby shouted. “Double-time!”
Van Zant took his place beside Kaminski and behind Sergeant Azerby. He used his maneuvering thrusters to steady himself as he jogged along the surface in the light gravity. They crossed the landing pad, a paved area surrounded with cranes and other machinery.
“The spineys are smart enough not to engage us out here and lose their defensive advantage,” Kaminski said, “but be prepared for a warm reception once we breach the airlock.”
Van Zant ran through the mission briefing in his head as the group made its way to the dome. The spineys had built the installation in an uninhabited system in the Neutral Zone, a clear violation of the Treaty of Phoenix. Usually such installations were bases for drone or small scout ship forays into Union space. The General Intelligence Directorate had told the Navy to ignore this particular asteroid for several years, lulling the Naati into a false sense of security. Now, the time was right to find out what was really going on here.
The Marines reached the dome and spread out along the wall on either side of the airlock, weapons ready. “Set the charge!” Kaminski barked.
A Marine set an explosive package on the door and retreated.
“Set your HUDs, if you haven't already.”
Van Zant tapped a few keys on his right arm; a schematic of the installation appeared on his HUD. The intelligence was based on similar Naati installations the Directorate had raided over the past few decades. When the spineys found something that worked, they stuck with it.
“Our objective is the computer core,” Kaminski said. “Probable location is noted on your HUD. We're expecting maybe a squad of resistance, but there may be more, so stay frosty. Get ready. Now!”
The explosive ruptured the door and debris shot out and landed in the fine soil of the crater bottom.
“Go!”
The Marines brought their arms to bear and, stooping, moved into the breach. Van Zant and Kaminski stuck to the middle of the pack.
Red light filled the interior of the dome. The place was cavernous, with no interior chambers. Complex scaffolding ran up the interior wall to the top of the dome and
extended across. Attached to the scaffolding were thousands of chambers, each maybe two meters long.
A short figure in a silver space suit, thirty meters from the main hatch, turned and looked at them. The thing had arms as long as it's body, but short legs. It climbed into an exoskeleton. Van Zant suddenly saw more of them, some in exoskeletons and some not, moving through the scaffolding.
“Hold your fire,” Kaminski said, “those are the yallic slaves.”
“What is this?” Sergeant Azerby asked.
“I've never seen anything like it,” Kaminski said. He looked at his wrist display. “These schematics are useless. We need to find the computer core. Proceed along the wall toward that hatch.”
As they moved along the walkway, Van Zant looked at the nearby chambers attached to the scaffold. One side of each chamber was completely transparent. Inside were figures, human figures, suspended in fluid, their mouths covered with masks.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Azerby said.
Kaminski held up a fist and they stopped. He stepped closer to the chambers. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Horrified, Van Zant saw that the figures were deformed: some had missing or extra limbs, or grotesque tumors growing on their bodies. There were men, women, and children.
“I've heard about this,” Kaminski said. “The spiney bastards love to experiment on us, trying to figure out what makes us tick.”
“And they probably eat them after their done,” Azerby said.
The anger surged in Van Zant. “We've got to save them!”
“There's nothing we can do here,” Kaminski said.
“But-”
“What are we going to do? Cram them all into the Claw? Don't be foolish.”
“We can go back and get the d'Entrecasteux!”
Kaminski grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, their faceplates touching. “They're all lost! We can kill the fucking bastards that did this, but the computer comes first!” He turned and looked at Azerby. “The hatch!”
Van Zant moved in a daze. He, too, had heard of this, but to actually see it was overwhelming.
“Blow the hatch!” Kaminski barked.
Debris flew and struck some of the chambers. Van Zant followed Kaminski into the room beyond; it was small, maybe three by six meters. Panels of flashing lights and screens covered the walls.
“This is it,” Kaminski said. “Give it to me.”
Van Zant pulled a gadget from his leg pouch and handed it to him. “Cover me.” Van Zant pulled his blaster pistol from his holster and the Marines watched the entrance. He watched as Kaminski attached the device to a panel and tapped some buttons.
“Spineys and their shitty technology,” Kaminski grunted. “So easy to hack.” He pulled out another device from his leg pouch and plugged it into the first. “It'll take three minutes to get all the data.”
“We've got company,” Sergeant Azerby said. Van Zant turned and saw several of the Marines fire out of the breach.
“Now, we'll inject a virus to fuck things up!” Kaminski tapped a few keys on the device. “Dragon's Claw? You can start your landing. We'll be there tout de suite.”
A Marine went down with a blaster shot to the head, and the others pulled him back while another took his place.
“We're gonna get trapped in here if we don't fucking move!” Azerby shouted.
“Almost there,” Kaminski said. “Got it! Let's move!”
Four of the Marines provided cover fire while the others ran to the main hatch. Van Zant fumbled with his maneuvering thrusters and almost lost his footing.
Azerby barked orders at the Marines, and they fell back, still firing at targets in the dome. “Hustle!”
The Dragon's Claw set down on the landing pad just as Van Zant emerged from the main hatch. He did his best to keep up with Kaminski and the few Marines headed for the ship; he finally reached the front landing ramp. The rest of the Marines followed, and the ramp closed.
“Let's get out of here!” Kaminski said. “Any casualties?”
“One wounded,” Azerby said.
“Yeeehooo!” Kaminski shouted. “I love it!”
The airlock pressurized and Van Zant took off his helmet. He couldn't hold it in any longer, and vomited on the deck. The Marines laughed.
“Fucking greenhorn,” Kaminski said as he took off his helmet.
“Kiss my ass,” Van Zant gasped. The Marines laughed again.
Kaminski laughed and smiled. “That's the spirit! Did you ever dream of doing something like this, you little shit?”
Van Zant shook his head and stood. “I never dreamed of seeing what I just saw.”
“That's what we're up against,” Kaminski said, pointing at him. “All the bug-eyed monsters in the galaxy want us dead! But we're not going to let that happen, are we?”
No. We're not.
“Captain?” Kaminski called out. “Ready a missile and take out that dome in five. We'll give the virus enough time to spread to their network.”
The faces of those people in the chambers loomed in Van Zant's mind.
No. We're not.
Chapter 15: A Thimble of Knowledge
The vision faded into gray, and then disappeared like smoke in the wind.
Talbot suddenly saw her own brain; the vision zoomed into her prefrontal cortex; then through the surface to a cluster of spindle-shaped cells; then into the cord-like nucleus of the cell; then to the crossed ropy chromosomes; then to the double-helix. Thousands of pairs of cyclic structures, snakes eating their tails, lit up between the gossamer strands of the double-helix.
The feelings of knowing and familiarity filled her. They know about humans.
She stood on a beach of fine white sand. The water was the most exquisite turquoise blue; it lapped gently on the shore. A light breeze ruffled her hair. The land itself was covered with green, blue and orange vegetation. The sky was a deep blue, with stars just barely visible. She wore her dress uniform, the deep black contrasting sharply with the white sand.
She saw Kessler first, in his dress best; he looked at her and smiled, that little boy grin tugging at her heart.
Van Zant suddenly appeared, but he wore a plain black suit, white shirt, and long black tie. “We appear to be in the same vision.”
“We are.” They all turned and saw Dr. Kanas. He wore a white-tie tuxedo. “All of us are now connected, our memory RNA mixing together and injected into our brains by the tendrils. The Prophets have gained some measure of your experience and character through the visions you experienced.”
“We were the subject of an interrogation,” Van Zant said. “They want to find out more about us, gauging what level of threat we represent.”
“Threat?” Kanas laughed. “We are not a threat to the Prophets. They viewed memories of events that had the most profound effect on your lives.”
“And they already know about us!” Talbot said and smiled. “Humans, I mean.”
“They do know about us,” Kanas replied. “Both the Prophets and Humans have the same benefactors.”
Another vision seized Talbot; she saw mirrored objects in the sky, spheres and ovoids racing over the ocean. Rough, dark clumps, like pods, fell from the flying objects and into the water. She saw the dark shapes sink in the water and lodge in the reef; a root sprouted and penetrated the reef, reaching down into the planet's crust, and even deeper.
It's a seed!
The pod grew in size as the root extended deeper, and became covered with coral and rock until it was big enough to rise above the surface. Encased in rock the pod dissolved from the planet's crust and deposited on its body, it grew even larger, and stood like a dome above the water. Its root grew branches and joined with the roots of others, forming a nervous system for the entire planet. It ejected streams of chemicals into the water to understand and control life.
The Prophets.
Then they came, those that had come before and were the source of all that has come since. The Harbingers. The
Doom-Sayers. The Old Ones. They arrived in mirrored spherical and ovoid starships. They bathed in the water beside the Prophets, their bodies floating in the ejected chemicals, the tendrils covering their spines and skulls. They stood over ten meters in height and had smooth gray skin. Limbs ended in seven-toed feet and seven-fingered hands. Their faces were like her own: two eyes, a nose, a mouth, but they looked like the face of an animal. Each had a large organ extending from its forehead.
It looks like a rose.
The vision shattered and another appeared. She saw a wide savanna dotted with trees. Figures ran across the grassland, fleeing from the mirrored spherical and ovoid starships flying overhead. Startled, she realized the figures were Humans: men, women and children, naked or clothed in animal skins, some carrying spears.
They've known about us all along!
That vision shattered and another appeared. She saw bulbous, mirrored starships clashing in the void against long twisted shells bearing faces of tentacles. Powerful beams of energy lanced between the mirrored starships and the twisted shells.
The vision shifted. The Old Ones, wielding powerful beam weapons, strode out to engage in battle on barren planetsides, fighting giant creatures that looked like black and mottled snake-like cuttlefish, ten times their size, the latter firing back with huge beam cannon.
The clash of the gods.
The vision shifted again. Vast intelligent energies danced in the hearts of stars, and spread the seed of life throughout the galaxy.
The gods themselves.
A gas giant appeared, covered in multiple bands of purple. A rocky moon moved into orbit around the planet. Mirrored ovoid and spherical starships orbited the rocky moon and seeded it with life. Her vision zoomed below the surface to a huge chamber; some of the Old Ones were laid to rest in vast coffin-like machines radiating out from a central core.
“The Anuvi Artifact,” a voice said.
Van Zant. The Prophets know he was there!
She stood on the beach again, her mind filled with the powerful images. Her head ached and felt like it was going to explode. Nausea surged in her stomach, but then receded with the images in her mind.
The Dreaming Oceans of San Miguel Page 9