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Johnny Winger and the Europa Quandary

Page 41

by Philip Bosshardt


  Chapter 25

  Europa

  Rhadamanthys Linea

  October 30, 2121

  0030 hours (Earth U.T.)

  Winger and Starnes descended lower into the cave, following the readings on Starnes’ sensors. Deeper into the cave, they followed a drifting mist that wavered in and out of view. Bots, Winger realized. His fingers twitched on the carbine trigger, but he did nothing. They descended several levels, crossed a rock bridge across a deep chasm and maneuvered through more tunnels. Lighting was created by the mist, a pulsing, flickering light that cast deep shadows on the gnarled veins of rock lining the cave. The floor was slick, patches of ice everywhere. Soon enough, they came to a narrow opening, barely waist high. More light flickered from inside.

  The mist of bots which had floated with them swirled like dust in a storm and gathered around the opening like a frame, coruscating and flashing as if lit from within. Bonds were broken and atoms slung together…in moments, the mist formed itself into a small ramp, extending over a sluggish pool of water. How could water exist here, at this temperature, this pressure? At least, Winger thought it was water, even as tendrils of steam hovered over the surface like a fog.

  Cautiously, the two of them edged out onto the newly formed ramp and walked ahead.

  It was the light they first noticed. Starnes sucked in a breath as they both halted, at the same time.

  “General, my readings are going off-scale…EMs, thermals, all of it. Whatever it is, it’s big—maybe we should stop here?”

  Winger gave that some thought. “That light is where we need to go, Lieutenant. Come on—“

  The light grew stronger, blinding, so powerful it hurt, and both men tuned their visor filters to maximum setting to shut it out. Still, the light was overpowering.

  They came at last to a small branch and a shoulder-high opening.

  “Which way, Starnes?”

  “To the right, sir. Readings are all off-scale now…but I’d say to the right.”

  So they went right. Hunched over, picking their way carefully down a slight decline, sliding on ice patches and loose rock.

  The center of the light was a swarm of incredible density. Winger called a halt. Ahead, blocking their way was a blinding orb of light, liked a small supernova, pulsating, throbbing with brilliance so strong they could almost taste it. Fierce light and throbbing motion, it was like looking into the heart of a star.

  Starnes had screwed his eyes almost shut. His visor was on auto, full filter. Still, it hurt. ‘What the hell is it?”

  Winger squinted. “Unless I’m mistaken, Lieutenant, we’re looking at the core of the Keeper. The very heart. My sensors are gone, useless.”

  “Mine, too, sir…is it my imagination or is that thing coming our way?”

  The orb…sphere…ball…whatever you wanted to call it, did seem to be expanding. Every corner and seam of the rock walls glowed with incandescence, like the entire cave was on fire.

  “I think you’re right, Starnes. Enable weapons…we may have to—“

  But he never finished the thought. For in that moment, the orb seemed to explode at them.

  “Fire!” Winger yelled.

  Both men let fly a volley of rf from their HERF carbines. The radio waves shattered sprays of rock and ice off the cave walls and reverberated around the cave in a crescendo of waves, nearly knocking them off their feet.

  There was no discernible effect on the orb, which shone like the Sun at the back of the cave.

  “Again!” Winger yelled. “Light ‘em up!” He triggered pulse after pulse of HERF fire, hosing down the orb from top to bottom, methodically working his weapon across the face of the thing. Each blast loosened gouts of rock and ice from the walls, which rained down on them, then cascaded in sheets to the floor. Stifling hot dust billowed everywhere.

  “It’s not working!” Starnes cried. “I’m going to max!” He cycled the burst selector to FULL and leveled more fire into the very heart of the beast. Again, pulse after pulse after pulse and the orb didn’t dim or change in any way they could see. Instead, it swelled outward like a brilliant balloon, creeping inexorably forward, filling every cubic centimeter of the cavern, until Winger was afraid the ceiling would collapse.

  “Starnes, back up! Fall back! We’d better give this bastard some room!”

  Starnes didn’t have to be told twice. The Comms and Signals officer scrambled backward, stumbling, kicking, firing blindly at the oncoming thing.

  “It’s not working,” Winger fell back too, nearly right on top of the Lieutenant. “The bots are replicating as fast as we burn ‘em…Jeez, I’ve never seen anything like that before. Let’s get back to the main tunnel!”

  The two of them stumbled and crawled and staggered back up to the branch opening, half blinded, as much by feel as anything. The orb continued to throb and pulse, overwhelming the cave with blinding light.

  Winger knew they needed help, ideas, something, anything. Doc III may have an idea. His embed usually could be counted on for logical suggestions. He tapped a button on his wristpad and a small port swung open on his hypersuit shoulder. While he and Starnes steadied themselves, hiding behind at outcrop of rock, and took stock of the situation, a small sparkling mist issued from the port on Winger’s shoulder. In moments, the mist had formed the faint outlines of a face—Doc Frost’s face—in the blinding glare of the light, the face was hard to see, but Winger knew it was there.

  “Doc, we need help…that thing replaces bots as fast as we fry ‘em. The HERF guns won’t go any higher…any ideas?”

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