The Alliance (AI Empire Book 2)

by Isaac Hooke

  Mickey shook his head. “One of us should take over the controls.”

  “You volunteering, mate?” Dunnigan asked.

  “Ha!” Mickey said. “Shuttles and I, we don’t get along. I’m a comm operator, Jim, not a drone pilot.”

  Dunnigan frowned. “My name’s Dunnigan.”

  “Yeah,” Mickey said. “Never mind.”

  The cabin shook again, though less violently.

  “Worse than a plane in turbulence…” Traps commented.

  “What now?” Mickey asked the AI.

  “I’m taking fire from defense turrets ahead,” the autonomous AI calmly intoned.

  “How far away are we from the target?” Eric said.

  “About two klicks,” the autonomous AI returned.

  “Too bad we can’t just teleport to the target,” Dickson said. “Save some time.”

  The shuttle needed ten minutes to recharge the teleporter, so that was an impossibility.

  The vessel shook again, very much like an airplane hitting turbulence, as Traps had mentioned.

  “I’m going to have to set us down early, or we’re going to be destroyed,” the AI said.

  “Have you fired back?” Mickey said.

  “No…” the AI said.

  “What?” Mickey said.

  “I am not equipped with weaponry,” the AI replied.

  Mickey shook his head and glanced at Frogger. “These guys really need to watch Star Wars sometime. Otherwise, me and you are going to have to cook up some X-Wing Fighters.”

  “Tie Fighters are more my style,” Frogger said.

  “You know, if we actually had access to the GalNet, we might have some idea of what you’re talking about,” Brontosaurus said.

  “Dude, you still haven’t watched Star Wars after all these years?” Mickey said. “We’ve only been talking about it for over a century.”

  “Star what?” Brontosaurus said. He cracked a smile. “Gotcha! Yeah, of course I’ve watched Star Wars. I liked the original ending better.”

  “What original ending?” Frogger said.

  “The one where Greedo and Han get married,” Brontosaurus said.

  Mickey shook his head. “Dude, you’re really messed up.”

  “What, are you a racist?” Brontosaurus pressed.

  “Uh huh,” Mickey said. “I wouldn’t let my daughter marry Greedo.”

  “What about your son?” Brontosaurus said.

  The shuttle shook again.

  Mickey reached up and knocked on the ceiling. “Hey, watch where you’re going Tin Bucket!”

  The machine didn’t answer.

  “Look at that,” Mickey said. “Doesn’t even answer me.”

  “Maybe if you stopped calling it Tin Bucket it might,” Crusher said. “Worth a try?”

  “Too much work,” Mickey said.

  Eric glanced at the overhead map, and saw that the shuttle had already initiated a dive. They were two klicks out from the target. He was hoping to get a bit closer, but that would have to do.

  “Prepare for touchdown!” the AI said.

  The hull shuddered and once more the harnesses tightened.

  “Crap!” Mickey said. “See? Mind Refurb pilot next time, people!”

  Eric checked the external cams, but it seemed clear out there.

  “You’re really hyper today,” Eagleeye told Mickey.

  “Of course I’m hyper,” Mickey said. “We haven’t been on a real mission in decades. We were stuck aboard Slate’s ship last time while Eric took almost everyone else with him aboard the world killer. That was torture. Slate’s terrible driving none withstanding.”

  “He can’t hear you anymore,” Eagleeye said. “We lost communications as soon as we entered the shield.”

  Eric checked his comm settings and confirmed that. “AI 22, open up the ramp.”

  “Opening ramp,” the shuttle’s AI responded.

  A rectangular crack of bright white light appeared in the cabin aft section, and the ramp opened. As it enlarged, the brightness from outside poured in, forming visible rays of light.

  The team members aimed their rifles into that white block of brightness. The autogating lenses in Eric’s eye cameras automatically reduced the brilliance in visible stages, so that he could discern actual objects forming in the whiteness out there, until the thick blanket of light was gone and hull superstructures were clearly defined. The autogating ceased when the outside light levels were similar to a typical sunny day on Earth.

  “Electrify exteriors." Eric activated the zapper, a subtle current that flowed over the exterior of his android, which would zap any micro machines that attempted to penetrate his body.

  On his HUD, electrify symbols turned green across the team.

  “Secure the perimeter!” Eric told Sarge when the ramp had nearly leveled out.

  The ceiling harnesses retracted and the Bolt Eaters raced onto the surface. They’d activated their magnetic boots to secure themselves, simulating artificial gravity.

  “Secure!” Marlborough said a moment later.

  Eric’s own harness withdrew, and he hurried down the ramp with his plasma rifle in hand. His magnetized boots issued no sound in the void, though his vibrations would be felt when he passed close to the other team members.

  “Well, at least we get to fight in the sun!” Bambi commented. Her lips moved as she spoke, though no sound was produced of course. Instead, the words were automatically transmitted over the shared comm band, thanks to a subroutine inserted into their speech processing algorithm.

  The shuttle left the surface as a precaution—they were worried about termites from the space station emerging to dismantle it. The craft would remain within the shield, staying close to the space station, and would attempt to mirror any directional changes it made.

  Eric surveyed the surrounding superstructures and the trenches in between. “These look almost like the buildings you’d find in a typical downtown neighborhood on Earth.”

  “I could almost imagine we’re fighting in a city somewhere,” Crusher agreed.

  “It’s like we’re in Iraq all over again, huh boss?” Mickey said. “Or Kurdistan, or whatever they call it these days.”

  “Follow the trenches,” Eric said, ignoring the comment. He wasn’t fond of Kurdistan. “Hug the walls of the superstructures. We’ll observe standard urban combat scenario rules. Two teams. Traveling overwatch. Dunnigan, Eagleeye, Hicks, Mickey, Traps, Tread, and Marlborough you’re T1. The rest of you, you’re in T2. Marlborough, you’re in charge of T1. Lead the way. We have twenty minutes before the weapon in this base activates, and destroys all friendly ships in the system. Brontosaurus, Crusher, get aerial.”

  The two of them fired their jetpacks. Their packs were synced with their boots, so that when activated, the boot magnets shut off. The pair landed on top of the nearest superstructure and ducked, crawling to the edge.

  “Bambi, watch the opposite approach,” Eric said, drawing the location on his overhead map as a waypoint as he spoke. “Dickson, you’re directly behind me. Frogger, you’re behind Bambi.”

  Bambi moved to the building across from him, and crouched near the edge. Frogger moved behind her, watching the trench next to the building on that side. Dickson moved to the opposite edge behind Eric.

  That covered all approaches.

  Eric and Bambi scanned the forward section, keeping T1 in view. Overhead, Brontosaurus would be doing the same, though over a wider one hundred and eighty degree search vector, while Crusher would be watching the remaining one hundred and eighty degrees on the opposite side of the building.

  Overhead, flashes of light told him the space battle was still taking place not too far away. Concave portions of the space station’s energy shield occasionally flashed into existence when some random weapon struck it.

  T1 came to a halt when it was nearly out of visual range. Its members spread out in a watch formation similar to T2, with Eagleeye and Hicks firing their jumpjets to assume a perch ato
p the closest superstructure.

  “Ready to leapfrog?” Marlborough transmitted.

  “Brontosaurus, Crusher, let’s go!” Eric said.

  The pair leaped off the superstructure, but the gravitational pull was weak, so of course they had to use their jumpjets to descend rapidly. They hit the hull running, joining the rest of the sprinting team.

  “So where are these turrets the shuttle AI spoke of?” Crusher asked.

  Eric realized he hadn’t transmitted the location yet. He did so now, and indicated it with an arrow on the overhead map.

  “One and a half klicks away,” Eric said. “Or five hundred meters from our target.”

  “One and a half klicks,” Crusher said. “That’s not so bad. Especially if the resistance continues to be absent like this.”

  “It’s going to pick up, I’m sure,” Eric said. “When they figure out what we’re planning.”

  Eric and the other members of T2 reached T1, and continued on past them, performing the so-called “leapfrog” maneuver.

  The trench weaved between a pair of superstructures, and they momentarily left visual range with T1. But then they were past it, and continued on their way without incident. They were nearing the limit of visual range with T2, so Eric paused next to a superstructure that vaguely resembled a minaret and took cover behind it.

  “Dickson, Frogger, get up there,” Eric said.

  He was alternating spotters so that the jetpack fuel levels would decrease uniformly across the team.

  Dickson and Frogger fired their jetpacks and took up hide positions near the top.

  Eric turned toward T1. “All clear. Leapfrog time, ladies and gentlewomen.”

  “Was that a joke?” Tread transmitted from T1. “I think that was a joke!”

  “Either that, or an insult,” Hicks sent.

  “Maybe a little of both,” Eric broadcast with a grin.

  “I’ve got incoming,” Dickson said. “Directly to the northwest, about a klick from our target.”

  “What kind of incoming are we talking about?” Eric asked.

  “Worm mechs of some kind,” Dickson replied.

  “Say again?” Eric said. “I heard ‘worm mechs.’ Confirm.”

  “You heard right,” Dickson said. “These things look like giant, segmented worms made of metal. Centipedes actually, given the tiny arms in their sides. And they’re closing pretty fast. It looks like they’re hovering a meter above the hull, propelled by some sort of magnetic levitation.”

  “Centipedes on maglevs?” Eric said.

  He glanced at Crusher.

  “This I gotta see,” she said.

  Eric tapped into Dickson’s feed and shared it with the rest of the team, including the incoming members of T1. The staff sergeant’s description was apt. Eric saw huge metal worms threading between the buildings. There were five separate entities out there. Several small arms in their sides helped them twist and navigate between the surrounding superstructures.”

  “They make Centipede look like a game children play,” Mickey said.

  “Centipede is a game children played,” Frogger said. “At least in our era. I played it as a child.”

  “I’ll have to try this game out sometime,” Crusher said. “I’m surprised Eric never mentioned it.”

  “Wasn’t one of my favorites,” Eric said. “Wizard of Wor was more my style.”

  T1 reached them, and Eric waved them down. “We’re going to have to make a stand here. Spread out, Bolt Eaters. And get to the top of these superstructures. It’s time to play a game of Centipede.”

  Eric fired his jetpack, as did the others around him. He could already see the lead Centipede twisting around a superstructure ahead.

  It opened fire.

  8

  Eric fired lateral thrust and slid out of the way of a plasma beam that emerged from the metal mandibles of the lead Centipede. The beam missed him, and cut into the superstructure beside him, leaving a hole. The creature continued firing that beam, sweeping it to the left, toward him, and he was forced to dodge again. He applied more thrust, and zoomed to the top of the superstructure.

  He dropped down when he reached the top, and then low crawled to the edge. He felt vibrations in the roof beneath him, and when they stopped, he realized that the hull was slowly drifting away beneath him.

  He glanced down, and saw that the Centipede had cut the superstructure clean away from the hull.

  You can’t get rid of me that easily.

  He surveyed the receding hull below, and confirmed that the Centipedes weren’t aiming at him.

  But at that point, he was very likely within the line of fire of the defense turrets near the target.

  So he retreated to the far side of the superstructure, and then rolled off the edge entirely and out into the open. He jetted downward, firing his left and right lateral thrusters randomly so that he zig-zagged downward. Unsurprisingly, plasma beams fired from behind him, as the defense turrets attempted to sear him out of the sky.

  He passed beyond their angle of fire as he neared the hull, and then landed on one of the superstructures. Then he took leaping bounds between the rooftops formed by those structures, bounds aided by jetpack bursts. He closed with his Bolt Eaters, who were racing away from the Centipedes. They had separated into three groups, fanning outward; four Centipedes chased the first two groups, while one pursued the third.

  One of the Centipedes stalking the nearest group spotted Eric, and swerved its head toward him.

  Eric leaped off the edge of his current roof, and jetted downward as the beam came in. It sliced through the superstructures around him. He hit the hull and kept running.

  I’m not going to have my connection severed, not this time.

  He sprinted forward across the hull, aided by strategic bursts of his jetpack, until he was running in the street parallel to the Centipede. It hadn’t noticed him yet, probably assuming it had destroyed him with its earlier beam attack, and instead it concentrated on chasing the Bolt Eaters. The androids occasionally fired back as they ran.

  Eric fired his jetpack upward and in a lateral motion so that he swung overtop the Centipede. He landed on its segmented back and aimed his plasma rifle directly into its thick neck.

  “Alert!” Dee said. “Little Earth is under attack by forces of Repelling the Entity. Alert!”

  “Deal with it!” Eric squeezed the trigger.

  The huge robot curled backward, lifting its frontal section off the ground. Eric shoved his hand into the hole he’d burned, and his flesh melted slightly since the heat was still radiating into space.

  “I’m having difficulties,” Dee replied. “Your assistance would be appreciated.”

  “Do what you can,” Eric said. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  He fired again with his free hand, enlarging the hole, and he slid the beam back and forth until the melted gap was big enough to fit him inside.

  By then the Centipede had curved its upper body portion so far back that he was upside down, and he pulled himself inside. He fired again, targeting its innards, until he broke through to a plasma channel conduit. He freed an energy grenade from his harness, and then released his grip on the surrounding wall he’d carved, and fired his jetpack so that he plunged down back through the opening. He tossed the energy grenade into the plasma conduit as a parting gift.

  It detonated, exploding the entire frontal section of the Centipede.

  He thrust away from the explosion, but shrapnel still dug into the backside of his android.

  He jetted downward, heading toward the next Centipede. But he saw Brontosaurus was already on its back. Crusher was on the next one, and Frogger the forth. Marlborough had mounted the fifth.

  “You copycats,” Eric said. Though in truth he was pleased, because it meant he didn’t have to do that again.

  When he landed, he upped his time sense to maximum and logged out for a moment to check on Dee.

  He was inside the virtual reality that re
presented his planet-wide consciousness. Cities were represented as small three-dimensional wireframes spread out in a globe around him. He focused on the representation for the capital city, which had a flashing red dot in the center, indicating an attack.

  As he zoomed in on it, he realized there were other red dots in cities planet-wide.

  Another coordinated attack. Just when I’m least equipped to deal with it.

  He returned his attention to the capital city, and saw that simultaneous attacks were taking place against the towers housing his local server farm for that city, and Little Earth. Everything was frozen at the moment, of course, thanks to his high time sense.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Eric asked. He noticed that the defense turrets in front of Little Earth were almost all offline. That meant an overwhelming attack.

  “There aren’t enough units to protect both Little Earth and the server farm,” Dee said. “I could redirect some Sloths and mechs from the towers, but that means you’ll lose some of the buildings responsible for your consciousness.”

  “Do what you can,” Eric said. “Recall some of the flyers from outside the city. Send them to help the Sloth units, but also send a few to Little Earth to shore up the defenses. If you have to choose between losing Little Earth, or losing mind servers, then let Little Earth go.”

  “Understood,” Dee said.

  With that, Eric logged back into his android to continue the raid against the space station.

  “That took a good seven minutes,” Brontosaurus said when Eric pulled up beside him. He was gazing at the wreckages of the Centipedes. “That leaves us thirteen minutes before this station unleashes its shockwave weapon.”

  That weapon was a more powerful variation of the shockwave attack Gavin’s Hippogriff possessed. It was also more advanced, in that it could phase out selectively at different points along its circumference, at different times, so that instead of creating permanent gaps to accommodate friendly vessels, the shockwave would simply phase out when it encountered allied vessels, while disintegrating every other ship in the vicinity.

  “Then there’s no time to lose, is there?” Eric told his friend. “T1, forward!”