The Clockwork Chimera Series Books 1-3 Box Set

by Scott Baron

  “Thanks. But look at you guys,” Daisy replied. “Those modified Faraday suits are fantastic. Did Chu come up with the idea?”

  “Actually, Tamara did,” Reggie said. “Took Chu’s work and tweaked it to up the shielding over each of our mechanical areas. Kept us invisible as we made our way to you.”

  “Yeah, and about that. How did you find me?” Daisy asked. “We’re underground in a sprawling city, and nowhere near either of our ships.”

  “Donovan and Bob have been constantly monitoring the city since you landed. They’ve spent the last two days drifting in orbit just to try and track you down. Everyone was worried when you didn’t check in, just like Vince, but when it was clear someone had commandeered the comms unit and was attempting to send out the virus, we launched a rescue team as soon as the suits were ready,” he explained.

  “We were actually heading the wrong way when Bob spotted trace signs of a power surge under the city,” Finn added. “Once we made our way into the tunnels, the signal was much stronger and easy to trace. Ash pinpointed—hey, wait a minute. Where’s Vince?”

  A grim look replaced Daisy’s smile.

  “This way.”

  They stood around their prone friend while Tamara checked his vitals.

  “My medical scanner is obviously offline now,” she said, “but his signs seem weak but steady. He’s running hot, though, and is obviously in distress. I don’t know how much longer he can hold out like this, without proper care.”

  “He’s brain dead,” Daisy said. “A shell. Alma fried his mind with the virus. The Vince we know isn’t in there anymore.”

  Tamara stood up and faced her.

  “For a smart chick, you’re really fucking dense sometimes, ya know? He’s not a cyborg––how many times do we have to tell you that? Hell, he’s more human than anyone else on the base, after you.”

  “No, look at him. His processor is fried, so he shut down. That doesn’t happen to humans, Tamara.”

  “Are you kidding me? Daisy, his onboard AI is like the one in my arm. It doesn’t think for him, it just acts like a booster. It speeds his mind and helps him process faster while storing additional data. He’s not a vegetable, it’s just that now that he’s infected, the implanted AI is fighting with his organic brain. What he needs is an AI wipe, but given where it’s implanted, that’s way beyond any of our pay grades. Even yours, I bet.”

  Vince began convulsing slightly.

  “Put him on his side,” Tamara instructed.

  Finn rolled the pale, dead weight of his friend, helping protect his airway while in his vulnerable state.

  “If what you’re saying is true…” Daisy thought of all the things she had absorbed and learned, but the AI equivalent of micro-neurosurgery was not one of them.

  I could try it, but I’d be guessing at best. I might be able to wipe and reboot a basic unit, but one lodged in my boyfriend’s head? I’m not so sure I wouldn’t just kill him.

  “Oh, so he’s your boyfriend now?”

  Stop eavesdropping when I’m thinking, Sarah.

  “Your fault for thinking so loudly, Daisy. But you really need to decide one way or another. Is he or isn’t he your boyfriend?”

  Leave it alone, Sarah.

  “No, I won’t leave it alone. It’s for your own good. And his too, you know. If he survives this, you’re going to have to make a decision, one way or another. It’s not fair to him otherwise.”

  “I need a minute to think,” she said, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Wait, what do you want us to do with their AI?” Omar asked. “It’s cut off from its comms systems, but is still active. Should we fry it?”

  Daisy pondered the idea, but no matter how tempting it may have been, she just couldn’t do it.

  “No,” she finally replied. “We can’t just kill it. Someday there may be a cure for the virus. Until then, we put it in sleep mode and confine it to a stasis locker.”

  “I say we fry the damn thing,” Tamara grumbled.

  “Much as I want to, we can’t. For now, just disconnect and sequester her. You guys okay with that?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Finn reluctantly agreed. “Omar, give me a hand with it?”

  “You got it.”

  The pair headed back to begin carefully disconnecting Alma from the remainder of her systems, while Daisy stepped off to find a quiet place to assess things and clear her head.

  She stopped walking when she realized she was back in the sleeping area she and Vince had shared just the other day. The cushion on the floor was comfortable enough, and in no time at all, using the skills learned from her wise mentor and her obnoxious dead sister, Daisy brought her heart rate and blood pressure down to their normal low levels.

  For the next ten minutes, she carefully assessed her injuries from head to toe.

  Scrapes, a few bruises—some of which are going to be beauties, I’m sure—but otherwise sound.

  She felt at one with her body, and interestingly enough, the gauntlet on her wrist as well. Its phantom limb sensation had been replaced with a comfortable sense of belonging, and Daisy was surprisingly okay with that.

  She brushed the dust from her palms and picked up her sword, taking a nearby rag to the blade as she wiped the remaining muck of battle from its surface. She was being extremely careful of the beyond razor-sharp blade, but noticed as she passed her hand along its length, it would dull wherever she was wiping, as if protecting her from injury.

  It shouldn’t be able to do that.

  Aside from a layer of grit from battle, all of the blood it spilled had been absorbed, leaving it pristine and better than new. As she slid it back into its sheath, she could feel its happy contentedness radiate and purr. The sword, connected to her as it was, felt like a happy cat napping in a cozy patch of sunlight after a nice bowl of warm milk.

  Only in this case, the cat was a deadly weapon, and the warm milk was over a dozen victims’ warm blood.

  Daisy slowly stood, her mind clear and her next moves laid out before her. There was no going back now, only forward, and that meant one thing.

  She returned to the others. They had rounded up the remaining humans of the colony and locked them in several rooms, all of which they could keep an eye on from one central location.

  “I have something I need to do,” she told them, sliding her sword onto her back. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “Wait, where are you going?” Tamara asked.

  “I’ll explain when I get back, but I’ve got to go. I’m late already.”

  “Late for what?”

  Daisy tucked the small tube of biological marker into her pocket.

  “Something I have to do,” she said cryptically, then took off at a quick jog to meet her Chithiid ally.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was already dark by the time Daisy reached a building far enough from the others to feel safe having her covert meeting.

  “Okay, let’s see what this stuff does,” she said, pulling the organic marker from her pocket. The top of the tube twisted off easily. She took a little whiff.

  “No scent,” she noted as she dabbed it around the perimeter. “Hell, why not?” she muttered as she drew a quick-drying arrow pointing to the lobby of the building as well. “Now I wait. Fantastic.”

  Daisy found an old metal chair and sat, back to the wall with her sword in her lap, then gradually lowered her respirations and settled into a light meditation while awaiting her contact. Nearly two hours had passed when she heard footsteps approaching.

  About time. I was beginning to wonder when––

  A window shattered to her left, and a half dozen Chithiid poured into the lobby through the gaping hole. Two of them were armed with pulse rifles, while the others appeared to be unarmed save for their gauntlets.

  “We found one! It doesn’t appear to be mechanical. Frame is too small. Do we eliminate it or bring it to the Ra’az for study?”

 
The Chithiid nearest Daisy looked her up and down, his pulse rifle not wavering in its aim.

  “She looks different than the others. Look at her eyes. There’s intelligence in them. The Ra’az will be glad for a specimen like this to dissect.”

  Daisy tensed, ready to spring into action, when a familiar shape strode in through the front door, a pulse rifle casually carried in its hand.

  “What’s going on here?” Craaxit said as the other Chithiid’s rear eyes quickly shifted to see who had come late to their party. “Ah, I see,” he said as he caught sight of Daisy. “Good job.”

  “Thank you, sir. I was unaware you were in the area, or I would have notified you of our night operation. We have captured what appears to be an organic human. The Ra’az will be very pleased with us.”

  “Indeed, they will, and you and your men are all loyal to the Ra’az, are you not?” Craaxit replied.

  “Loyal to the end, sir,” the tall alien said proudly.

  Craaxit looked around the room.

  “Where is the rest of your unit? Are they nearby?”

  “We formed a quick response squad when unusual movement registered on the scans in this sector. There are no others, sir, just us.”

  “Excellent.”

  Craaxit opened fire, targeting the two Chithiid with rifles first. Daisy lunged to her feet, sword flying in a deadly arc as she joined the fight.

  The aliens were taken completely by surprise, and the first two went down quickly as Craaxit pumped round after round into their bodies. Daisy spun and whirled, blade held in one hand, flying effortlessly under her guidance, cutting through muscle and bone as easily as a hot knife through butter.

  From her other arm the power whip lashed out, seeming equally a part of her, yanking a Chithiid from his feet and toward her blade.

  The alien saw its looming demise and managed to wrap three of its arms around a decorative fountain bolted to the ground, its muscles straining as it fought desperately against the pull of the whip.

  Craaxit, meanwhile, was faced with two injured but very much alive opponents, each coming at him with their own power whips, the energy lashing out and cracking in the air around him as his return fire from his rifle caused them to duck aside, sending their whips astray.

  Daisy saw him slowly being pinned down, and with the slightest of mental shifts, changed her beam from soft to hard, snapping it like a whip and launching the Chithiid fighting against her pull into the nearest alien gauntlet wearer. Both went tumbling and were quickly targeted and dispatched by Craaxit’s weapon. The lone remaining Chithiid saw the writing on the wall and turned to flee, running as fast as his powerful legs were able.

  “Stop him!” Craaxit shouted, unable to get a shot lined up.

  Daisy reacted viscerally, spinning toward the escaping soldier, her power whip lashing out a solid rod of energy that took the fleeing alien right off his feet, impaling him into the wall.

  Craaxit looked at Daisy with wonder as her whip went limp, dropped the body to the ground, and retracted to her wrist.

  “How did you do that? That is Ra’az laborer technology, encoded only to Chithiid genetics. It should not be possible for an ordinary human to wield it.”

  “Well, I’m no ordinary human,” she replied with a grin.

  “Show me the solid beam again,” he asked.

  Daisy slowly extended the whip a few meters in a solid, pulsing beam, shifting state between narrow and thick.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” Sarah commented.

  Let me have my moment, she replied.

  “Amazing. These were not designed for offensive use. The Ra’az would never give such a weapon to our people. They were intended only to be used as a work tool to help move heavy loads, nothing more.”

  “You also use them in combat,” Daisy noted.

  “Yes, but that was an incidental function. Mind you, there are much more powerful versions of the device, ones with far greater potential for offensive use, but the Ra’az keep those units entirely to themselves.” He marveled at her ingenuity. “You must instruct me how you made the beam function as a weapon like that. It would come in very handy for my people when the time comes. We will need many more weapons than we currently possess if we hope to succeed.”

  “What about the pulse rifles you carry?”

  “My people only have a relatively small number of them, and as you have possibly discovered, they only carry enough charge for a limited number of shots. While we have been slowly stockpiling and hiding pulse charges when we are able, any rebellion supported by just these weapons would fail before it even began.”

  He glanced at the fallen aliens. One was gravely wounded, but still moving.

  “May I borrow that?” he said, gesturing to Daisy’s sword.

  “I don’t know, Daze. Is that a good idea?”

  I’m pretty sure he didn’t kill his own men just to gain my confidence, she silently replied, holding her weapon out for him.

  Craaxit nodded his thanks, then walked to an injured alien. Not dead, but quite painfully injured, she noted.

  “How many more Ra’az loyalists are there in this area?”

  “I will not tell you, traitor!” the alien spat. “May your offspring fall, and your––”

  Craaxit swung the blade hard and fast, caving in the side of the alien’s head. His epithets would flow no more. Craaxit looked at the sword, perplexed, and touched the blade gingerly with a finger.

  “This weapon is quite dull. How were you able to wield it so effectively when I am unable?” he asked, handing Daisy back her sword.

  She felt its edge shift as the grip touched her skin and made sure not to accidentally nick her collaborator. Daisy lazily swung the blade at the chair she’d been seated in, easily slicing the metal in two.

  “Only works for me,” she said with a grin.

  Smile lines creased his face around his eyes, and Craaxit let out a low, warm laugh. “You are a remarkable being, Daisy,” he said with great amusement.

  “Why, thank you,” she replied. “Now tell me, you killed your own people. Won’t that draw suspicion? And if you said they might join the fight against the Ra’az Hok, why so quick to shoot them?”

  Craaxit kicked a fallen body, turning it over. The creature’s dead eyes gazed at nothing.

  “I am safe from suspicion, do not fear. I was never here. When they find the bodies, they will merely believe it was an ambush. They are exceedingly rare, but they do occur.”

  “But you didn’t answer my question. Why kill your own?”

  “Because of this.” He nudged the upper right shoulder of the dead Chithiid with his boot. She looked closer at the deep-blue mark that seemed as though it had been branded into its flesh, the scar tissue forming a raised pattern of curves and lines. Daisy scanned the shoulders of the other slain Chithiid and realized they all had the same mark.

  “Loyalists,” Craaxit explained. “Sworn to the Ra’az, often from childhood. These are the ones who have no allegiance to our homeworld. To our species. They are hated among my people, and most bear this mark on their shoulder.” The alien hesitated, a pensive look on his face.

  “I have spoken to those I know to favor further resistance, and they are willing to consider reaching out to the others in their networks who share the same beliefs. With the unmonitored communications system used by the low-level workers, we can spread word from city to city in but a few hours.”

  “And you are sure they will fight against the Ra’az?” Daisy asked.

  “They know their families will be at risk, but we have lived under this oppression for so long, and after the many years spent in stasis just to arrive here, we do not even know for certain that they are still alive.”

  “Do you really think the Ra’az would have killed them?”

  “We hope for the best, yet we steel our hearts for the worst,” he replied.

  “A depressing way to live, but logical,” Daisy said. “So, what do you propose we do to ensu
re they don’t make the worst-case scenario a reality?”

  “I shall spread word among those I trust. Together, we will form an organized network and have those who support our cause ready themselves should the opportunity actually arise. We will have to be cautious, however. There are still many loyalists to the Ra’az who do not bear their mark.”

  “Spies in the ranks.”

  “Not spies, exactly. More akin to those who wish to experience the benefits afforded loyalists, while being able to return home to their friends without the scrutiny of having their beliefs publicly displayed on their flesh.”

  “Like the KKK.”

  “The what?”

  “An old Earth group that would hunt and hang people of a different color. They wore white hoods so no one could see their faces. Often, they were your neighbors, your friends, even the police, but you might not know it.”

  “I see the similarity,” Craaxit said. “I hope your people dealt with them as harshly as we deal with ours, when possible.”

  “Not quite, but eventually they were driven back to the shadows, at least.”

  Craaxit rested a radiantly warm hand on Daisy’s shoulder.

  Wow, these guys run pretty hot.

  “I have hope for us, Daisy. It will not be easy, and many lives will undoubtedly be lost. But if we work together, I have hope that we can retake and save both of our homeworlds.” He stared kindly into her eyes. “But we must start with this one, my friend. I offer you my trust that you will honor your word and help free my planet as well.” He paused dramatically. “If we survive, that is.”

  Daisy chuckled.

  “Nice to see the Chithiid have a sense of humor. And, yes, we will work together for both of our worlds’ sakes, though I still don’t see why we can’t all just find a new one to start over on.”

  “If only it were so simple. Unfortunately, planets such as ours are rare. A treasured commodity the likes the Ra’az are always in search of. Worse yet, once they have perfected their new warp drive system, it is quite likely that no planet, no matter how far away, would be safe. And when they can travel from their homeworld with such ease, a forward fleet would no longer even be needed, and the Chithiid workforce could be made obsolete. I do not wish to think of what that could mean for my people.”