by Hodden, TE
“The bad news?” Summers asked over the earpiece.
Barney looked up from his computer. “Our satellites around Jupiter just picked up some really weird energy readings. We think the gate is opening.”
There was a pause.
It was Melisa who answered: “How long do we have?”
“Hours,” Catherine said. “Not days. And… it’s big. Whatever is coming through is… really, really big.”
There was a long pause.
“Okay,” Summers said. “We will buy you all the time we can.”
Catherine went back to work. “You guys know I love you both right?”
“Yes,” Melisa and Summers said as one.
“You know,” Summers said, gently, “that you can tell us that again when this is done?”
Catherine laughed, her heart quickening. “Yes ma’am.” She made another connection. “That’s done. Let’s get in the air. Unless… Do you need a moment with anybody?”
Barney shrugged. “That isn’t very…me.”
01110
The security detail escorted President Luther Allistaire to the situation room in the bunker deep beneath a mountainside. He adjusted his jacket, and studied the many displays on the wall of video monitors. The Joint Chiefs were gathered around the table, each of them hurriedly opening their brushed steel briefcases to reveal their Tactical Control Units. There were a few, and only a few, of the UN Contact Team also gathered at the table.
“Gentlemen,” Allistaire said, taking his seat. “And ladies.”
The joint chiefs greeted him with varying levels of enthusiasm.
Allistaire glanced over at Professor Tyson Childes, the representative of the UN’s Contact Team. “Professor. Is Claremont not joining us?”
Childes looked ill. “I am sorry, Sir. Has nobody told you? Something terrible happened.”
The director of the FBI cleared his throat, and indicated at several chairs. “I am sorry, Sir, but it looks as though somebody tried to prevent our scientific team from gathering here. We are bringing in replacements.”
Allistaire nodded. “What are we looking at?”
Childes brought up a colourful image of a fold-gate opening in space. “A large stable wormhole has opened in the solar system just outside of Jupiter’s orbit. It looks like something came through.” He tapped another image up. This time there was a large centipede like object, surrounded by six lobster shaped things, and dozens of locust shaped objects. “The large object is several miles across, the rest are… battleships and gunboats.”
Allistaire stroked his chin. “And the Honour Guard tell us this is the Legion?”
The Naval representative gestured to another window. “We have that confirmed. The smaller ships match what we found on the Atlantic sea bed, after the first incursion. And…It has been broadcasting a message in several languages. This is the English version.”
The message broadcast in a voice like grating metal. “This is the Legion. I lay claim to your world. There follows instructions for a swift and merciful end. Meet them without resistance and you will not suffer. When my ships approach your cities, lay down your arms. Assemble in the streets. And watch the sky. You will only suffer if you resist. Resistance will ensure the suffering of others. For the greater good, accept your fates, and know peace.”
“That,” Allistaire said, “is not the plan.”
“No Sir,” the Airforce officer said. “We have a nuclear option ready to launch, drones ready on orbital stations.”
Childes cleared his throat. “The Honour Guard have a response prepared from our Martian friend.”
Allistaire measured his response carefully. He had to make it convincing. He glanced around the room. “Do we trust them?”
“Sir?” The Army officer asked.
“Mars. The Honour Guard. Do we trust them?” Allistaire tapped his lips. “I’m sorry. It might be nothing, but… This last year it has felt too much like they are abusing their sanction. They only tell us what they want, they keep secrets…” He looked to the ceiling. “I read your reports on the Lunar attack, and… I’ll be honest. Those quantum cascade generators used alloy parts they took from a wrecked spaceship? Why didn’t they inform us until after the fact? Why didn’t my predecessor have a conversation about how those alloys could be used as a weapon. Something that would be real handy about now! Why… do we ask them to go to Mars? Why not a department with oversight?” He fished the circuit card from under his shirt, on the chain about his neck. He pushed it into the console on the deck. “By the authority of my office, I sanction the use of any and all means to defend against the looming threat.” He looked around. “Every Millennium Project building has a nuclear bunker in the foundations. I want as many schools as possible evacuated into those bunkers. Even if the projects are unfinished, if they have foundations, they have a bunker.”
He sat in his chair, he sipped his water, and watched the many screens as the nuclear arsenal was unleashed. Hours passed like minutes, as he watched the icons on the tactical map blip slowly through their trajectories, slowly crawling towards the swarm of enemy icons that were crawling relentlessly onwards.
One by one the missiles blipped off the screen.
“What happened?” Allistaire asked, already knowing the answer. They had been cut down by Faster Than Light projectiles.
“We don’t know,” Childes said. “The fuel cells detonated without causing the warhead to detonate. Perhaps they don’t want to risk contaminating their spoils.” He paced closer to the screen. “It is moving in range of the Martian weapon.”
Allistaire nodded. This was not part of the plan. He could feel his master clawing at his mind. “Will it work?”
Childes shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Allistaire nodded. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have very little time to decide how and where we will fight this. Captain Lionheart believes the big ship will be headed for San Francisco. The Captain, I am more inclined to believe…”
The joint chiefs offered their best plans, with the most effective weaponry they could muster.
All would be proven futile.
The combined might of the United States military would be overwhelmed in hours, and the cull of the population would begin.
Exactly, Misrule assured him, at the back of his mind, his words soft and comforting, according to plan.
01111
The whole palace shook as the World Engines built up their power.
Melisa walked among the holograms, studying the Legion ships. They were ugly things, heavily armoured, and heavily armed. Depending how hard she squinted, and how much imagination she used, they were vaguely insectile, and vaguely fish-like in design, with many mutations and odd flourishes.
“Evolution!” She whispered.
Summers was sat on the throne, communing with the computers. “What?”
“Those ships,” Melisa said. “They have evolved, many times over, as they conquered new worlds, and faced new weapons, they have borrowed whatever worked, and folded it into their arsenal.”
“Like the Roman Legion,” Summers said, absently. “There. I think I have it. They are in range. You might want to ready yourself.”
The World Engines fired with a howl like baying dogs, that filled the palace, and shook the ground.
Melisa watched, mesmerised, as the holograms showed the beams hitting the Mothership, and denting the armoured hull. Small explosions rippled through the ship, as again, and again, the rays beat against the hull. “You’re doing it! Their shields are down. Their armour is…”
As she watched, the armour plates unbuckled, and the damaged section knitted themselves back together again.
“No!” Summers’ knuckles whitened on the shaft of her staff. “It’s coming about.”
Energy readings spiked on the hologram.
Melisa backed away. “What is that?”
“Solar lance!” Summers shouted, leaping from the throne, and grabbing her arm. “We have to go! Now!”<
br />
Melisa turned on her heels and ran, as fast, as hard as she could. The palace shook, groaning as it shuddered and trembled. Cascades of dust fell from the ceiling.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she paused, and glanced out of the window.
A beam of pure white light, brighter than the sun, had punched down through the atmosphere, and hit the surface. The ground was heaving away from the beam like tidal waves, rolling and crashing in great walls of dirt and rock.
She grabbed Summers, and they ran together, sprinting for their lives, to the transportation pad, as the air boiled, and sizzled, as the hellfire of the lance was upon them.
They stumbled onto the pad, and Summers shouted something, holding out her staff.
10000
President Allistaire stood, staring at the screen.
The bunker fell into silence.
The icons representing the Legion fleet continued towards the Earth.
“They almost did it,” the Army officer said.
Allistaire looked at him. “Oh?”
“First blood to us,” the General continued. “They had it a hairs breadth from utter destruction.”
“But they failed,” Childes whispered.
“Yes!” The General looked around. “But it can be done. The ships are not invulnerable. A few more seconds and the dreadnought would have been beyond repair.”
Allistaire stroked his chin. “It doesn’t look as though it is limping.”
“It is…” Childes cleared his throat. “The last readings we had from Mars suggested it was repaired back to half capacity. By the time it reaches Earth, we estimate it will be at eighty eight percent capacity. It seems anything short of a killing blow can be repaired.”
Allistaire looked around. “Do we have anything capable of replicating the power of the World Engines on Earth?”
Nobody answered.
“Can we replicate a fraction of that power?” Allistaire shouted. “Can we even hurt it?”
The joint chiefs looked away.
Allistaire resisted the urge to laugh. He leant heavily on his desk, and shook his head. “Then we will need a miracle.” Allistaire looked over his shoulder. “I need the room. I am activating one last Hail Mary and nobody in this room has clearance for it.” He sat in the empty room and…did nothing but breathe, and put his head in his hands. It was almost over. Almost.
10001
Harris sat forwards, and watched the scanner screen, as a dozen young men and women, in light, sand coloured uniforms erected the complex web of towers and probes on the rooftop. To one side were a pair stood at a control podium that he was sure were Elois and the Wormwood.
The Manta was hovering a distance away, up high, with the stealth field active.
Harris looked up.
Charlie pointed to the screen, to the tallest mast. “That’s it. That’s the fragment of the Extinction Stone, right under schism-way.”
Flintlock pursed her lips. “The circuits are already charged. We can’t just strafe them with rail guns, or we could risk cracking open the schism. We have to shut it down.”
Charlie stood. “I can distract Wormwood, while the rest of you power down and disable the masts.”
Harris nodded. “That sounds like the plan.” He punched the attack path into the flight computer. “Move fast, put them down, and get this over with.”
He rose to his feet, and they made their way down to the ramp. Charlie summoned his armour, and it phased about him. He was holding a long chain.
Flintlock flexed her fingers, and one of her tattoos poured down her arm, forming a musket-like longarm in her hands. She crouched by the ramp.
Harper smiled, and tilted his head back, his tattoos turned to liquid crystal, and wrapped him in a suit of armour that was distinctly werewolf like. The crystal was transparent, but bent the light in a mercurial way.
Harris looked at the others, and raised an eyebrow. “Are we ready?”
They nodded.
Harris put on his helmet and closed his visor. He tapped the control on his wrist.
The thrusters roared, and the Manta surged forwards, swooping low over the rooftop, firing smoke and flares. The ramp lowered and the others leapt into the confusion.
Harper bounded across the rooftop, to pounce on the pair working at the nearest mast.
Flintlock dropped to her knees, and shot down two more of the Thrals with laser bolts set to stun.
“Wormwood!” Charlie bellowed, running across the rooftop. “Stop this!”
Harris crouched, and set his crossbow to a lightning bolt. He took aim at Charlie.
Phoebe materialised beside him, and lay a hand on his shoulder. She took the empty syringe from Harris’s pocket, and smiled, contentedly. She tossed it out of the jet, into the confusion. “He had to come here of his own free will.”
Harris nodded and pulled the trigger.
The bolt hit Charlie in the small of his back. He arched and he cried out.
Elois -no, Echo- took the Flux-Fork from her pocket, and tapped it on his armour.
Harper sprinted across the rooftop and leapt at Echo, howling a war cry.
Harris thumbed the dial and too aim. The inferno bolt spiralled through the air, and struck Harper in the side of the head, punching through his armour, and ending his life, instantly. He adjusted his aim, pointing the crossbow at Flintlock.
She was aiming back at him.
He rolled aside as the bolts passed harmlessly through Phoebe, and detonated against the Halo Cruiser at the back of the hold. He loosed his bolt, but Flintlock was already leaping off the rooftop, and crashing onto the fire escape of a neighbouring building.
“Forget her!” Phoebe said. “It was only the boy we need.” She cupped the cheek of his armour, and rested her head to the visor. “You have to come and save the world.”
Harris nodded. He closed his eyes. Her presence soothed the pain of his thoughts, and whispered promises of the greater good. He could feel the warm glow of the Network putting his disorderly thoughts into perspective, and giving him the clarity to see into the future they were going to create.
It would be perfect.
It would be free of all the ills humanity caused itself.
It would be… merciful.
Charlie would forgive him… when he understood.
10010
The Manta jet jolted in the air.
Barney looked up from the controls, his face full of worries. “What was that?”
Catherine felt a prickle on her spear. A familiar tingle. “A Transportation Beam.”
Barney frowned. “We don’t have a platform.”
Angel pointed at the spear. “Yes, we do.”
A bolt of energy forked from the spear, and shot out of the flight deck into the hold.
Catherine unbuckled from her seat, and hurried down to the hold, Angel on her heels. A pool of smoke and debris covered the floor. Summers and Melisa were kneeling, retching and coughing in the confusion.
Catherine’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran to them. Melisa waved her off. Brandi rose, unsteadily to her feet, and grabbed Catherine in a hug.
Catherine hugged her back, close, letting her sob into her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“It didn’t work,” Melisa whispered. “We almost had it, but it tore the palace apart, and destroyed the world engines.”
“I’m sorry,” Catherine whispered. “I am so sorry. I’m just glad you are both okay.”
Summers lifted her head. Her cheeks were raw with tears. “Mine was a dead world. We hoped to save the living. We still hope to save the living.”
Catherine kissed her slowly and gently. “We will.”
Summers stayed close, letting the kiss linger between them even after their lips parted, trapping it between the touch of their cheeks.
“Charlie?” Melissa tapped her earpiece. “Charlie?”
Harris tapped into the conversation. “Sorry kid. He can’t talk.”
“He’
s in pain!” Melisa said.
“He’s okay.” Harris sounded cold and distant. “We took control of the rooftop. Wormwood and Elois got away. Harper is dead, and I lost track of Flintlock. Charlie took a hit, but he’ll be okay. When he comes around he can help me shut this down. You guys worry about the primary target.” He drew a sharp breath. “My God! I think it’s here. The sky is like…an inferno!”
Catherine reluctantly let her lover go, and ran up to the flight deck.
Outside the sky was burning orange, and boiling with dark clouds as the warships and gunboats descended from the stars, spreading out in all directions. There were pin pricks of distant light as the orbital drones made their futile attacks.
“Stealth field up!” Barney said, adjusting the controls. “And silent running!”
Catherine leant over his seat. Her heart leapt to her throat, as she saw the Mothership, taking its place over San Francisco bay. “And there she is.”
The USS Nomad was in the bay. It opened fire, the Phased Energy Projectors blasting away at the underside of the titanic spaceship. Drones and helicopters took off from the deck. The drones to engage the fighters launching from the mothership, the helicopters to try and strike teams. Across the city was the fleet of Marine transports, on their way to deploy the Special Duties Battalion. The Marines and SEALs were attaching the ship on two fronts, the Honour Guard from a third, hoping that at least one would find a way through the defences.
A searing white ray flashed from the nose of the Mothership, and tore several skyscrapers apart as it chased the Marine transports and reduced them to fireballs.
Catherine tapped her earpiece. “Lionheart! Deploy your stealth field and retreat. The Nomad can’t do anything there!”
Lionheart’s response was terse. “Stick to the plan, Cathy. We know the risk, and we know the consequences. Push on!”
Catherine watched as some of the helicopters made it to the spaceship’s service bays and hangars. Many more did not. “Please! Captain!”