by J G Cressey
That about did it.
“Only eighty meters left.”
“How the hell do we stop this thing?”
“There, to your right. That panel.”
Cal turned to the illuminated panel. “How’s your Insidion?” he asked, staring at lines of obscure symbols.
“Forty-five meters…try blind luck.”
He began pressing the symbols at random. “Not a lot happening.”
“Damn it, only fifteen meters.”
Taking a step back, Cal lifted the Infiltrator’s right leg and slammed its heel into the center of the panel, cracking it straight down the middle. Instantly, the cube began to slow, and a few moments later, it came to an abrupt stop.
“Zero meters,” Kaia said as the cube turned blue. “That was seriously impressive.”
“Absurd luck,” Cal replied as he glanced at the floored alien. Thankfully, it was unmoving.
“The target’s a hundred meters or so dead ahead.”
Cal took a couple of deep breaths. The cube’s walls had once again taken on fuzzy haze, and he tentatively stepped the Infiltrator through, relieved that the floor remained solid as he did so. Clearing the energy shaft, he was faced with yet another far-reaching space, but it was a far cry from what they’d seen below. The few drones he could see were moving with purpose but fortunately not in his direction. There was machinery in the distance coupled with huge hologram readouts. “Looks like some kind of control deck,” he said as he moved forward, keeping the Infiltrator’s strides swift but not so much as to attract attention.
“Keep going straight. It’s dead ahead.”
Despite the pace he’d set, crossing the shiny expanse of floor seemed excruciatingly slow, every thudding footstep seeming increasingly likely to reveal their deception.
“There, Cal. The cylinder…that’s it. That’s our target.”
Cal saw it about fifty meters ahead: a tall, clear cylinder containing a coil of fierce, pulsating white light that looked ready to burst from its glassy prison. The cylinder was protruding from a wide hole in the floor that was bordered by a simple metal railing. There were a number of consoles close by and a similar number of aliens manning them. Other than that, the way was clear.
Steadily continuing his course, Cal felt a triumphant thrill rising in his chest.
Unfortunately, the thrill was short-lived.
“No… Cal… Gods no.”
Cal almost stumbled upon hearing the panic in Kaia’s tone. “Kaia?”
“Christ, Cal, we’ve got serious trouble.”
Cal slowed the Infiltrator’s stride and looked about. “Where? I don’t see it.”
“Finish the mission. Destroy the signal.”
“What? Kaia… What the hell is it? Where’s the problem? Kaia…Kaia?” There was no answer. The thrill that had died became a knot of fear that sunk to the pit of Cal’s stomach. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to disengage from the sync sphere, but the sound of heavy footfall abruptly muted the urge. He cursed, whipping his head around. In his confusion, he’d slowed the Infiltrator’s pace and was now stumbling in the empty expanse like a delirious drunk. Two aliens, the same yellow-skinned, long-fingered breed that he’d faced in the lift, were bolting directly at him. Cal turned to run, but the nearest alien threw itself forwards, crashing heavily to the ground and managing to wrap three of its long, steely fingers around the Infiltrator’s ankle.
Breaking his inevitable fall, Cal immediately twisted to get a better view of his attackers. The second alien had already caught up and was now looming over him, all four spidery hands reaching down. Unwilling to get into another grappling match, Cal planted a devastating kick to the inside of its knee joint. As the alien crumpled to the ground, he sent a second kick into the face of the other attacker.
Cal’s fear was gone, surging adrenalin having taken its place. Lurching the Infiltrator upright, he began slamming a fist into the hand gripping the ankle. Enough bones broke for him to slip free and scramble clear. Before the two attackers had a chance to right themselves, he had the Infiltrator back on its feet and was bolting towards the cylindrical target. The time for remaining inconspicuous had well and truly passed.
A suspicion was growing in Cal’s mind as to Kaia’s panic, but he pushed it aside. In the next few seconds, all that mattered was the cylinder. He could sense that the two aliens he’d floored were already giving chase, but they didn’t worry him. Not much could catch a synthetic running at full speed. There were, however, more ahead. Every drone within earshot had turned its attention to the commotion and, as he closed in on the target, they moved to intercept. Cal ignored them. They were nothing more than a blur. All of his focus was on the cylinder.
“Contact Star Splinter,” he shouted as he thrust an open palm into the face of an intercepting drone. “The plan is a go.” The strike lifted the attacking alien off its feet. “Repeat, the plan is a go.” Cal didn’t even see his victim hit the floor before he was slamming the Infiltrator’s shoulder into the next interceptor.
“Engage.”
His heart thundering in his chest, Cal slipped under the desperate grasp of a long-armed alien, sprang up, and in one fluid motion leaped onto the huge cylinder’s protective railing. Bright, pulsating light filled his vision as he launched the Infiltrator out over the gap.
As its heavy form sailed through the air, Cal instinctively put a cybernetic hand to its torso, to the very place where the helix bomb was concealed. The very moment before the Infiltrator’s head collided with the glass, Cal shouted one last word.
“Detonate.”
Chapter Forty-One
THE PLAN IS A GO
“Repeat, the plan is a go.” Cal’s voice was loud and clear within the Star Splinter’s cockpit as it sounded out through the comm unit.
Jumper turned to Viktor, who sat front and center in the piloting chair. “Okay, kid, this is it,” he said before leaning down to the comm. “Eddy, Toker, we’re a go.”
Viktor’s fingers glided swiftly across the control panel before him. “Right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Firing the packs now.”
Jumper nodded and opened up a view of the distant prison camp on the cockpit’s window. The Star Splinter’s cannons had been pre-programmed to fire the packs—each filled with thousands of Xcel serum syringes—to precise points within the camp. Already, Jumper could see the packs speeding in high arcs through the dark skies, hover stabilizers battling against the ever-increasing winds.
“That storm’s coming in quick,” Viktor observed, slipping his skinny arms into the ship’s flight controls and shooting Jumper a nervous smile.
“Don’t worry, kid. It will only help to confuse the enemy. It’s a good thing.” Jumper hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
“Yeah, I guess,” Viktor replied as he activated the Star Splinter’s launch engines.
Laurence stood up as a deep boom reverberated from the direction of the distant Insidion base. “Well done, Callum,” he muttered to himself.
Turning away from the noise, he looked towards the opposite horizon. After a few moments, he saw multiple black shapes arching through the ever-darkening skies. He allowed himself a grin and looked about at the men and women working around him; they were hiding their nerves well. “Okay people,” he bellowed. “This is it. Eyes up.”
Simultaneously abandoning their mining machinery, they all looked up and tracked the paths of the black shapes tearing through the sky.
Laurence turned his gaze to the Carcarrion drone that had been stalking nearby. As he knew it would, his shouting had attracted its attention, and it now had him locked in a deathly stare. “That’s right, you son of a bitch. We’re done with your little slave camp,” Laurence snarled, his heart thumping madly as he crouched down and snatched up a fist-sized rock. He’d been wanting to do this for what seemed an eternity, and he couldn’t help but grin as he brought his arm back. “Come on then, you big bastard.” He threw the rock with all his might s
traight at the drone’s head.
Unfortunately, the swell of satisfaction that surged through him as the rock left his hand died when the big bastard in question casually plucked it out of the air with one clawed fist. Despite this lack of success, Laurence’s grin remained, faltering only slightly as the drone crushed rock and let the wind take its remains.
Laurence wanted to continue his defiant stare, but the warning voice echoing in the back of his mind was becoming almost deafening. Time to run, you fool.
“Clear a path,” he cried as he turned and began scrambling over the rocks. He didn’t bother risking a glance back. The fear in the eyes of his fellow prisoners stumbling out of his way told him the Carcarrion drone was already in pursuit.
Other than the trial of Cal’s bright green serum, Laurence couldn’t remember the last time he’d run. He’d certainly not done any during his time in the prison camp. Such an act would have attracted unwanted attention. And he was definitely no runner before the invasion. The experience was exhilarating but at the same time utterly exhausting. He’d spent a lot of time in the past weeks building his strength, but his cardiovascular fitness remained a joke. Sucking in ragged, desperate lungfuls of air, his arms and legs started to burn almost unbearably. If it weren’t for the pissed off alien hot on his tail, fuelling his adrenalin, Laurence imagined he’d be a wheezing wreck by now.
The storm was closing in, the winds whipping up like a squall. Huge piles of discarded rock dust lay a short distance ahead. Laurence bolted straight towards them. Even over the noise of the wind, he could hear his pursuer’s pounding feet and snorts of exertion close behind. In the corner of his eye, he caught a large, black shape gliding steadily to the ground. He risked a quick glance and was glad to see his fellows converging on the pack. He wished he was with them; he might have even turned to fight if he had some of that bright green liquid pulsating through his veins. Perhaps foolishly, however, he’d given Cal’s extra samples to a couple of his more fearful comrades. Still, even without the serum, he was doing a good job leading the drone away from the packs. With any luck, his efforts would buy valuable time for the syringes to be distributed.
A series of particularly violent gusts of wind suddenly barrelled their way through the mine ahead, picking up large quantities of rock dust as they did so. Laurence covered his eyes as best he could. If the winds continued like this, he soon wouldn’t be able to see a thing. But he surged on, and as he did, it began to dawn on him that his pursuer might actually be struggling to catch him. Maybe these hulking Carcarrions with their formidable, muscular frames just weren’t built for speed. Maybe he’d even outrun the bastard.
A savage blow to the back of his right shoulder brought the thought to a sudden and painful end. Without a hope in hell of keeping his feet under him, Laurence flew forwards and inevitably downwards. Only with the help of a particularly strong side-wind did he manage to twist his body before pounding into a large pile of rock dust.
With his breath knocked out of him, Laurence kept his arms up, shielding his eyes from the gritty, gusting air. Squinting, he forced himself to look. The dark mass of the Carcarrion drone was looming over him, white fangs and pale eyes gleaming brightly through the gray. His chest heaving, Laurence managed to regain just enough breath to mumble a curse but not a lot else.
At the very moment the Infiltrator had ceased to be, the feelers within the sync sphere lowered Cal to the floor and disengaged. Disorientated, he stood on unsteady feet for a moment, shaking his head and rubbing at his face. Having a massive bomb explode within your gut was a strange sensation to say the least no matter how fleeting the experience. He hoped to God the explosion had done its job. The plan on the planet surface would be well underway by now, and without weapons, the chances of success would be bleak.
Once he’d gained enough sense of self, Cal tore away the sync suit material covering his head and face and turned to the sphere’s door release. Then he paused, his finger hovering just short of the button. What had made Kaia panic in such a way? What had forced her to disconnect the communication link? Pirates? What else could it be? He moved his finger to the left and pressed a different control. The interior wall of the sphere began to melt away to give him the same three hundred and sixty degree view of the lab he’d had earlier.
His blood turned to ice.
Only a handful of paces from the sphere’s base stood a rough-looking man who was staring directly up at the sphere, directly at him. Cal knew the man couldn’t see him through the one-way glass. All he’d be seeing was his own unpleasant reflection distorted on the sphere’s shiny outer surface. Still, the fact didn’t make the stranger’s proximity any less disconcerting. There was an old-fashioned bolt rifle slung over one of his shoulders and a modern pulse rifle slung over the other. He wore a long coat of dark, scuffed leather, beneath which Cal could see the glint of multiple knives as well as a pair of pulse pistols holstered on his hips.
“Bloody weird, eh?” The man shouted without taking his eyes from the sphere. Hearing no response, he scratched roughly at his thick chin stubble and turned towards the lab’s entrance to repeat his statement. “Oi! I said check it out. Bloody weird, eh?”
“Shut your damn face, Fallon. Get on with the job.”
Cal looked toward the man who’d replied. He was older, tall, and thin with sharp, hawk-like features. Even from this distance, Cal could see that those features were twisted into an impatient sneer. Three others also lingered near the lab’s entrance: another man busily tapping away at a console and two tall, bald women, one of whom had black tattoos covering her face and skull. The two bald women could easily have been twins. The sight of the pair ignited a sickening feeling in Cal. There were other intruders milling about the lab, but he couldn’t tear his attention from the bald women. The one without tattoos had an arm wrapped around Kaia’s neck and was brutally twisting one of her wrists up behind her back. Kaia looked to be struggling for breath and was tugging desperately with her free hand at the woman’s grip. She had two long cuts across her torso, the red blood bright against her pale bodysuit.
Cal pressed his clenched fists against his forehead and swore angrily under his breath. There was no doubt the intruders were pirates. There was also no doubt that the two bald twins were not women, nor indeed were they human.
As Viktor brought the Star Splinter in to land, Jumper magnified the view of the prison camp in the cockpit’s window. Of course, without a force field, it was arguably no longer a prison—Melinda had seen to that.
“There she is!” Viktor shouted, relief plain in his voice.
Through the enhanced window, Melinda could be seen speedily making her way across the rocky landscape back towards the Star Splinter. No longer concerned with going unnoticed, her face was uncovered, and her blonde hair was hanging free.
The Star Splinter’s landing was less than smooth, but it did the job.
“Well done, kid,” Jumper said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked towards the distant Insidion base; as yet, there was no obvious activity. Maybe Cal and Kaia’s explosion had thrown them into disarray, he mused hopefully. In contrast, the once prison camp was now a hive of activity. The escaping prisoners had divided up and were converging on the hover packs. With any luck, every single one of them would receive a dose of the serum—there was, after all, a lot of rough terrain for them to cover in order to reach the Star Splinter and the weapons.
“Make sure you keep the engines fired up, kid. I’ve got a feeling this might be tight,” he said, glancing again towards the Insidion base.
“Don’t worry about me, Jumper. It’s those two idiots down below you should be worrying about.”
Jumper nodded. The boy had a point.
By the time he made it down to the Star Splinter’s loading bay, Eddy and Toker had opened the cargo doors and activated the all-terrain shifters, which were already transporting the huge crates of weaponry out onto the dark, rocky plateau.
“Good job,
” he shouted to the pair, making sure his voice could be heard over the gusts of sulphur-infused air swirling about the bowels of the ship.
“No problem,” Toker replied confidently. The young man looked more composed than Jumper had ever seen him, perhaps sobered by the number of lives depending on him. “Melinda’s just arrived. She’s opening up the crates. We’ll help dish them out once the prisoners arrive.”
Jumper nodded his approval and looked down the ramp at Eddy. The girl was wild-eyed and looked ready to sprint solo to the Insidion base to finish what the helix bomb had started. Turning to him, she jogged up the ramp, an Xcel syringe grasped tightly in her hand. “Time to dose ourselves up yet, J?” She asked, even though she was probably still feeling the effects of her first dose.
Jumper looked out of the cargo doors, eyes watering against the fierce wind. There was no sign of the escaping prisoners yet, but it wouldn’t be long. “Yes, Eddy, it’s time.”
Without taking his eyes from the dark horizon, he reached for his own syringe and pressed it to his neck.
The Carcarrion drone thrust its massive clawed hands down at Laurence, grasped him by the front of his ragged shirt, and hauled him into the air. Laurence kicked furiously at his attacker’s legs and repeatedly slammed both of his fists into the drone’s face. It was futile. Although it was tough to see through the torrent of dust-filled air, Laurence could have sworn there was amusement on the alien’s feline-like face.
Where the hell are you, Tark? he thought desperately as the beast lowered him to the ground. With one of the clawed fists still clamped to his shirt, Laurence stopped struggling and watched helplessly as the drone raised its other fist like a big, black hammer. Accepting his fate, Laurence ignored the stinging rock dust and stared directly into the cold, gray eyes before him. Then he surprised himself by letting out a loud, mocking laugh. It seemed his newfound bravery was going to stick with him until the bitter end. A shame then that the end was only seconds away.