by Paul Teague
“You’re having way too much fun,” said Ten with a shake of his head. “Right, how do we get out of here?”
“Freight elevator, that way. Takes us right back to the hangar,” said Hunter. The Marines all stared at him. “What? I download a partial schematic,” he said. “Let’s not fuck around here any longer.”
“Starting to sound like your old self again, mate,” said Ten as he led the group along the corridor. It was quiet, as if the Mechs were silent or absent or somehow avoiding the Marines.
“Feeling a bit better,” said Hunter, “but I’d kill for a steak. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”
“It might yet happen,” said Jackson as they hurried along the corridor. From behind them came the sound of an elevator, and then a squad of Mechs burst out onto the far end of the corridor.
“Run!” shouted Gray. The Marines sprinted down the corridor, with even Hunter putting on a decent turn of speed. The Mechs opened fire as they gave chase, and rounds pinged off walls, ceiling and armour.
“Turn and fire,” yelled Ten as he skidded to a halt, taking what little cover was offered by a buttress in the wall. Jackson took cover in an alcove on the opposite wall, while Gray and Hunter barrelled into the open elevator.
Ten fired down the corridor, not bothering to aim as the Mechs charged toward the elevator, firing as they came, heedless of the risk of death or injury. Jackson fired as well, precise controlled bursts to take down the nearest enemies.
Then Gray’s weapon spun up and filled the corridor with lead. The Mechs disappeared in a cloud of blood and sparks and shattered metal, and when she stopped firing there was nothing left alive apart from the four Marines.
“Move,” yelled Ten, chasing Jackson the rest of the way to the elevator. “Go,” he said as they reached the elevator. Gray punched the control and, as more Mechs rushed into the corridor, the elevator rose smoothly through the Sphere toward the hangar.
“They’ll be waiting for us,” said Jackson as he fitted his last magazine into his rifle. “There’s no way they won’t have seen this coming.”
“Gimme a weapon,” said Hunter, standing unaided but still sounding less than entirely healthy.
“Take this,” said Gray, passing over her pistol and a pair of spare magazines. She handed a rifle magazine to Jackson, who nodded his thanks and slipped it into his webbing.
“Get ready,” said Ten as the elevator approached the hangar level. He crouched down with Hunter behind, and aimed ahead. Gray stood to his side, weapon raised and trigger-finger poised, and Jackson took a stance to her left.
“It’s been nice knowing you,” said Jackson, “but this isn’t going to work.”
The elevator came to a halt behind a pair of steel doors. There was a pause, the Marines all tensed, then the doors swished open to reveal an empty corridor.
“Move,” hissed Hunter, nudging Ten with his knee. “Before they get here.”
Ten nodded and moved into the corridor, the others following closely behind. He swept the open space with his rifle, but there was nothing there. The Mechs were nowhere to be seen.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” muttered Jackson as the team moved quickly towards the doors at the far end of the short corridor. “I don’t think this is the way to the hangar.”
“Hush,” said Ten in an annoyed tone. He stopped at the end of the corridor where it branched left and right, and peered carefully in each direction before stepping into the open area. He moved cautiously to the doors and triggered the controls. The control panel flashed red several times, as if the doors were trying to work out if opening was really such a great idea; then they slid back into the walls to reveal the room beyond.
“Told you,” said Jackson in a smug voice as they Marines piled into the room. It was huge, a cavernous space with terminals along one wall near the door. In the middle of the room, suspended by gantries that linked it to the walls, floor and ceiling, was a complicated cylindrical machine from which great bundles of pipes and cables emerged to loop out to ports in the walls.
“What the hell is it?” said Gray, side-stepping across the room as she checked for Mechs and clues as to the machine’s purpose.
“No idea,” said Ten, “but I know a man who might.” He opened a channel. “Davies, are you out there?” He played his helmet cameras across the machine. “I need to know what this is and whether we can use it to disable the Sphere.”
“Hey, Ten,” said Davies, “good to hear from you. We’re on our way, coming in wide, fast and hot to try to avoid the Sphere’s defences, but the odds–”
Ten cut him off. “No time. What is it?”
“Oh, right,” said Davies. “Ahem. Looks like a fusion reactor.”
“Fine, we’ll pull the plug. You almost here?”
“Close by, but the guns, Ten, the guns,” said Davies.
“Working on it. Be in the hangar in ninety seconds. We’ll need a suit for Hunter. Ten out.” He closed the channel and looked around at the rest of the crew. “Any suggestions?”
“Shoot it?” said Gray, offering the long-preferred solution advanced by fighting forces everywhere for millennia.
“Or I can just switch it off,” said Hunter. He’d plugged his arm into the computer terminal, and his eyes flickered beneath their lids as he ransacked the Sphere’s files. “Here goes,” he said, grabbing the edge of the bench with his free hand.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the artificial gravity failed, and all the lights went out.
“Shit,” spluttered Ten as he flicked on his helmet lamps and groped for something to hang on to.
“Think I’m going to hurl,” said Gray as Jackson grabbed her and heaved her towards the wall.
“Can’t say I’d advise it,” said Ten as he swam slowly back to the door. There was a hum, and a load of dim red lights came on.
“Emergency lighting,” said Hunter as he unplugged from the terminal. “I think I gave it a hard reset, so that thing’ll be down for an hour at least, maybe more if their backup isn’t up to restarting it,” he said, nodding at the reactor.
“Can’t hurt to give it a tickle,” said Ten, firing a few short bursts into important-looking parts of the reactor and its peripheral equipment. The other Marines followed suit, laying waste to the delicate parts of the machine.
“That’ll do,” said Ten as he switched out his empty magazine. “Either they’re screwed now, or we’ll never do enough damage to have an impact.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Gray, floating cautiously out into the corridor. “Shit,” she said, heaving herself back through the doorway as rounds ripped past and ricocheted off the walls and ceiling. “Mechs.”
“No, really?” said Ten, floating across to the other side of the doorway. He nodded at Jackson, then looked at Gray. “Top, middle, bottom,” he said, pointing at them in turn and then himself. “And remember to hold onto something if you don’t want to float away.”
“This isn’t going to go well,” muttered Jackson.
“Three, two, one, go!” said Ten, and then the Marines leant out through the doorway and opened fire on the Mechs in short, controlled bursts.
A couple of the Mechs fired back. As Ten sought targets and fired down the corridor, the Mechs milled aimlessly. Where previously they had acted as one entity in awesome unity of purpose, now they seemed to be isolated and separate, as if each was struggling to determine its role.
“What’s wrong with them?” asked Gray. “What’s changed?”
“No power,” said Jackson as he drilled a Mech as it swam towards them through the air. “No comms, no guidance.”
“Like new recruits,” said Ten to himself as realisation dawned. “They’re directed via the Sphere, and we’ve broken the link to their controllers.”
And the Mechs weren’t prepared for zero-G combat.
“Rookie mistake,” said Ten as he gunned down a Mech that was firing wildly and spinning in mid-air. The thing kept firing long a
fter the recoil from its weapon had made aiming impossible, spraying bullets into the floor, walls, ceiling and its fellows.
And then more Mechs began to fire, and half of them floated free. The Marines ducked back and waited as the Mechs, in their panic, emptied their magazines.
“Zero-G will get you every time,” muttered Ten as he pushed away a slowly revolving corpse. The corridor was filled with spent bullet casings, body parts, weapons and shattered fittings.
“What a mess,” said Gray as the team made their way to the hangar airlock.
“We’re at the airlock, Conway,” said Ten, reopening the channel. “Where are you?”
“Coming in hard and fast, Ten. Thirty seconds.”
“Roger.”
“Oh, shit,” muttered Hunter as he stared back down the corridor through the cloud of debris from their last firefight. “What the hell is that?”
27
Kearney looked down the corridor for a moment, wondering if Ten might be right about the Mechs. “Only one way to find out,” she muttered to herself.
She paused at the next bulkhead, checking for movement. A Mech wandered past, oblivious to her presence, weapon pointing at the floor. Kearney shot it in the head, and the thing slumped to the floor.
Around the corner, three more Mechs were huddled. One raised its weapon as Kearney approached, but there was no snap to its actions, no vigour. The purpose and drive that had characterised the Mechs’ attacks on Vengeance was gone.
Kearney shot them all, then turned to check behind her. Nothing. The corridor was quiet.
“Sir,” said Kearney, opening a channel to Vernon as she prowled down the corridor, killing every Mech she found. “There’s something wrong with the Mechs. They’re defenceless.”
“Repeat that, Kearney,” said Vernon with a note of astonishment in his voice.
“I’m on deck two, clearing the Mechs. Something must have happened, they’re offering no resistance,” she said as she mowed down two more non-threatening enemies and reloaded her rifle. “Ten said it might not last long. Now’s the time to attack with everything we have, sir.”
“Are you sure about this?” said Stansfield, butting into the conversation.
“Don’t know how long it’ll last, sir,” said Kearney as she carefully drilled bursts into a brace of somnolent Mechs, “but at the moment it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Welcome news, Trooper,” said Stansfield. Then the channel clicked off, and Kearney was left alone to hunt her incapacitated enemies.
“Vengeance, this is Stansfield,” said a voice over the ship’s announcement system. “The Mechs are suffering a technical problem,” he went on, clearly struggling to keep the triumph from his voice, “and we have an opportunity to retake the ship. Give them hell, Vengeance.”
Kearney grinned as she worked her way back toward the medbay to link up with Mason and Fernandez. Finally, something was going their way.
“We have a problem, sir,” said Fernandez as he worked on the Mech laid out on the table before him. Around the room, the remains of his party were checking their weapons as the welding team worked to reopen the doors.
“What is it, Fernandez?” said Stansfield.
“About five minutes ago, the Mech I’ve been analysing changed, sir. It went limp, and its chest is now lit by a bright blue matrix.”
“Mason reported seeing two like that, sir,” said Vernon.
“And?” asked Stansfield. “What’s your conclusion?”
“It’s dormant,” said Fernandez. “All power seems to have been diverted to the matrix. If you asked me to speculate, I’d say it’s sending a message or backing up – maybe both.”
“And that means?” said Stansfield. “Hurry it up, Lieutenant. We don’t have all day.”
“Sorry, sir,” said Fernandez, tearing himself away from the matrix. “I think they’re packing up and backing up, sir. The Sphere’s been disabled, and the Mechs think they’re beaten. I think they’re sending every bit of data they have on Vengeance back to the core. And from there, who knows where it’s going? It’s a massive data backup, and they’re saving everything they know about us for a rainy day.”
28
“Ten, you there? This is Conway, coming in hot. Keep your heads down.”
Outside the airlock, Ten floated in the shadow of a bulkhead with Hunter behind him and Gray and Jackson on the other side of the corridor. Thirty metres away, a nightmare in steel and ceramic armour picked its way towards them, long brass-encased legs stretched out to tap against floor, ceiling and walls.
“Can’t come too soon,” said Ten, bracing himself to fire. He squeezed off a short burst, then another, but the beast kept coming. “What the fuck is it?” he said in frustration. “Just die already, you bastard, it’s been a long day.”
He fired again as Hunter popped away with his pistol and Jackson emptied his magazine into the monster. Then there was a hum of spinning barrels, and Gray opened fire, spraying the creature with rounds. It stopped, holding position against the walls as bullets bounced from its armour and carapace.
For a moment, it looked like it would be forced back, but then the firing stopped, and Gray’s gun fell silent.
“That’s inconvenient,” she muttered as shook the weapon in the vain hope that more ammunition would magically appear. “Fuck.”
“I’m out,” said Ten, letting go of his empty rifle to draw his pistol. “Are you seeing this, Conway? Anytime right fucking now would be great!”
“Almost there, calibrating,” said Conway, and Ten had no idea what she was talking about.
“That’s not good,” said Jackson, and Ten’s attention whipped back to the armoured Mech. Two arms had unfolded from behind the armour, each holding a pair of multi-barrelled guns exactly like the one that Gray was struggling out of.
“Duck,” advised Ten needlessly as the barrels began to spin. Jackson grabbed Gray and pulled her back into cover as the Mech began to fire, and suddenly the corridor was filled with noise and smoke and a deadly hail. There was nothing the Marines could do but hide in cover and trust their armour.
“Conway!” yelled Ten, unable to hear anything in his helmet over the noise.
The Mech crawled closer, firing as it came, and now it was only metres from their hiding place. Ten thought small thoughts and tried to press himself into the metal wall of the corridor as the bulkhead began to disintegrate under the weight of fire. Behind him, Hunter cowered under the diminishing protection of Ten’s armoured bulk.
“What the fuck?” muttered Ten, emptying his pistol into the oncoming Mech.
Then came a series of whining thuds and spine-shattering bangs as something tore through the walls. The Mech seem
ed to scream, then the corridor fell briefly silent.
Ten peered cautiously around the bulkhead as a wind began to build behind him. The Mech was clearly dead, shot through with a dozen large holes, armour shattered and useless, weapons floating free. One great leg was torn free and tumbling along the corridor.
“What the fuck?” said Ten again, subconsciously fitting a new magazine into his pistol.
But the wind was growing stronger, and now an alarm began to sound, whining out over the rapidly thinning atmosphere as air bled through the huge holes Conway had punched in the hangar wall.
The airlock inner door hissed open, and a figure reached out to pluck Hunter from his hiding place and drag him inside. Then the door closed again, and when Ten turned around, there was nothing to show that Hunter had ever been there.
“Where’s Hunter?” Ten yelled, looking desperately around. The wind was roaring now, tumbling debris along the corridor as it raced past the Marines into the vacuum of space. “Hunter!”
The whine of the alarm was fading now as the last of the atmosphere escaped into the hangar, and suddenly the corridor was silent. Ten looked at Gray and Jackson, still huddled on the far side of the corridor behind the remains of their bulkhead.
“Time to go, Ten,” said Conway’s voice. “Airlock.”
Ten turned back to the airlock as the door slid open. Inside, Davies was waiting in his power armour. Hunter was with him, now safely encased in an emergency environment suit. He gave a wave and grinned weakly through the faceplate of his helmet.
Ten stared for a moment, then grinned back and hauled himself into the airlock. Gray and Jackson followed, and the inner doors closed behind them.
“We’re out of here,” said Davies, triggering the outer door. The view opened onto the hangar and there, not ten metres away, hung Conway’s Raptor with doors open and ready to receive.
“Go, go, go,” said Davies, pushing the Marines through the airlock doors into the hangar. “This isn’t a healthy place to be.”