“But—”
Larson gripped her shoulder. “O’Connor left that envelope for you. Whatever’s inside, he wanted you to see. I suggest you look at it before the Bureau turns this place over to make sure he didn’t leave any sensitive material lying around.”
Chambers stared at him open-mouthed for a moment. With reluctance, she left the room and took the stairs down to the foyer. Red and blue lights flashed outside. The place was already crawling with police officers.
Hoping she hadn’t caught their attention, Chambers slipped into Dr. Larson’s office. She closed the door and dropped the blinds. Away from prying eyes, she retrieved the envelope from her pocket and tipped it into her palm.
Two data chips slid out, labeled 1 and 2.
Her heart rate increased. Let’s get this over with.
She grabbed the tablet from Larson’s desk and inserted the first chip into its card reader. A loading symbol rotated in the middle of the screen as it downloaded the contents, then a new window popped up and a video began to play.
The view shifted as O’Connor adjusted the camera. Once he was satisfied with the angle, he withdrew from the lens and reclined in his chair. Wisps of smoke rose from the cigarette in his hand, accentuating the redness of his eyes and the bags hanging beneath them.
“Hi, Charlotte,” he said. “If you’re watching this, you must have found my body. Apologies for the messy paint job. I figured a bullet in the brain would be best, if for no other reason than to prevent resuscitation. This is a world I don’t particularly want to return to. But I’m going to give you a chance to improve it.” O’Connor grabbed something off the desk.
It was the larger of the two data chips.
“I’ve transferred Director Bishop’s files to this device,” he said. “All his journal entries and crew reports. His final confession. This is everything Lincoln hid from us, and all you need to shut Sector Zero down.” He dropped it into an unmarked envelope. “So take this, along with the chip my message is on, and deliver them straight to Deja Talbot. I would do it myself, but, well . . . I’d rather not lose my wits in a windowless box on the edge of space.”
The Afterlight Complex, Chambers thought. It was a so-called “rehabilitation” center on the rim of human-controlled space, reserved for the galaxy’s most notorious war criminals. Plenty of horrifying stories had come out of that place in recent years. People, however? Not so much.
Once inside, there was no getting out.
O’Connor took a puff from his cigarette and continued, a thickness in his voice. “Anyway, I suppose this is my way of apologizing for the wrong I’ve done. I screwed up—big time. And if Echo Team fails, I’ll be partially responsible for the death of mankind. How would that look on a résumé?”
While he was cracking jokes, Chambers was struggling to suppress her emotions. There was a lump in her throat, a quiver in her chest.
Chuckling softly to himself, O’Connor grabbed a bottle of scotch from his desk drawer and poured himself a glass. “Now then . . . I am going to enjoy a drink, some fine music, and one last cigarette before I clock out.” He tipped his glass to the camera. “I hope this message finds you well.”
Chapter
———THIRTY———
September 14, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Internal Network, planet Calypsis, Sol System
Kenon stumbled into a narrow passage between the cliffs. Chunks of ice had gathered between his frost-bitten toes, making it increasingly difficult to walk. No longer could he feel the wind biting at his skin, or the ache in his tired limbs. In fact, he couldn’t feel much of anything at all.
And though every part of him pleaded for rest, he pushed onward. His strength was waning, his body starting to succumb to the allure of sleep. But he knew if he were to lie down now, he would not be getting up again.
Perhaps a brief stop would not hurt, he thought, pausing to lean against the icy stone wall. All he needed was a moment to catch his breath—no more, no less. Surely I cannot have far to go.
He had been wandering for hours already. Of course, without his helmet and the map data it contained, he could not track his progress. When he left the cave, he simply set out in the direction of the next gateway. If he were to be totally honest, he wasn’t even sure he was on the right path anymore.
Pain seared through the young warrior’s temples and he clutched his head. A restless presence was clawing at the edge of his consciousness, demanding to be heard. Try as he might, he could not force it into submission. The mental barricade he had put up was beginning to wear thin.
Valinquint, what are you doing? The old vykord demanded, his voice overlapping on itself. You must not leave your comrades behind—not while the huntress lives.
“She is after me, not them,” Kenon hissed past numbed lips. “If they had followed, they would only have been putting their own lives at risk. I could not allow them to do that. Too many have already died because of me.”
And I am sorry, child, but I warned you there would be sacrifices. Now it is your responsibility to make sure their deaths were not in vain, and you cannot do that alone.
“I have to try.”
You do not have the strength to face both seekers on your own.
Kenon bared his teeth. “If I turn back now, the weather will surely claim me!” It wasn’t as if he were blind to the mistake he’d made. He was foolish to wander out here by himself, regardless of his reasoning for doing so. But the cold had already taken a toll on his body. It was too late to change his mind.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. Once the throbbing in his temples had subsided, Kenon pressed on deeper into the cliffs.
Doramire’s tone softened. Are you angry with me?
“I spent the better half of my youth wishing I would die. I even tried once to take my own life. Then, after my coming of age ceremony, I finally decided I wanted to live, and now you are sending me to my death.”
I thought you had come to terms with your fate.
“That was before you told me I had to sacrifice myself.”
To put an end to a plan that would see this whole galaxy wiped clean of life. Have you forgotten that? Not only would you die, so would your comrades and countless others. Doramire paused, then added, Ultimately, the choice is yours. You can either forsake your friends, or save them. In any case, direct your anger at the Nephera, for they are to blame. We are merely the victims of their efforts to survive.
A shower of snow rained upon Kenon. He looked up to see what had disturbed it, then stopped dead in his tracks at the thump of a heavy form landing behind him. As he went to turn around, something struck the back of his skull.
Caught off guard by the blow, he slammed into the ground. Cracks permeated the layer of ice coating the cavern floor. He rolled over, blinking up at his attacker in dizzied confusion, and promptly snapped out of his daze.
The huntress!
As she hoisted a spear onto her shoulder, Kenon scrambled out of the way. The crystalline blade crashed into the stone mere inches from his hip, and his body leapt into combat mode. He scrambled to his feet, unlatched his bow, and went to grab an arrow.
Too slow.
E’ly wrenched the weapon from his grasp and knocked him down once more with a swift strike to the knee. As he hit the floor, she thrust her spear towards him.
Kenon pressed himself against the cliff wall in anticipation of the pain. A second passed. Nothing happened. When he opened his eyes again, he jerked back. The tip of the blade glinted at his throat, thirsting for blood.
The huntress had chased him into a corner. He was trapped.
The front of E’ly’s helmet lifted. “Now this is a surprise,” she said. “Why are you out here all on your own, Valinquint? Have you come to surrender, or did your comrades abandon you?”
“If you think I would surrender knowing full well what you intend to do, then you are sorely mistaken.”
A look of uncertainty played on E’ly’s bronze features as her gaze fell t
o his chest. She nudged the tube connected to his sternum. “You have no crystal, yet you possess their power.” She tilted her head. “What are you?”
She is injured, Doramire pointed out, bringing the young warrior’s attention to the scorch marks on the huntress’ shoulder. Dried blood concealed the hole in her undersuit, but fresh streams still seeped out from beneath. You may yet have a chance.
Kenon looked around for anything to attack her with. His firearms were either spent or out of reach, and she would cut him open long before he had a chance to activate his blades. Arrows were out of the question for the same reason.
There was only one other option.
He whipped his tail through the snow and whacked her in the ankle. Her legs flew out from under her, but she caught herself. Before Kenon could escape, she pinned his arm to the ground with her spear. The curved blade bit into his flesh.
E’ly loomed over him. “I have witnessed the clash of galaxies, seen planets consumed by stars,” she hissed. There was a sorrowful note in her tone—a crack, a quaver. Her lips curled to reveal yellowing fangs. “I watched my children burn under the very suns that nourished them, but I shall watch no more. You will light Calypsis!”
A familiar voice spoke up behind the huntress: “I mean, that’s probably how this would normally go down. Except you forgot one small piece of the puzzle . . .”
E’ly twisted to look over her shoulder as five figures emerged from the snowy haze. They halted several meters up the path, weapons in hand.
Alana cocked her shotgun. “Me.”
A burst of pulse rounds exploded from the barrel and pelted E’ly’s side. Her helmet snapped shut. She lurched sideways, and for a brief moment, lost her grip on the spear.
This was his chance.
Yanking the blade from his arm, Kenon drew his knees up to his chest and kicked out at the huntress. His feet connected with her stomach. The blow sent her flying into the opposing wall.
While she was dazed, Kenon stormed over and seized her by the throat. Rage-filled eyes locked with his through the glass of her visor. But that fury quickly gave way to fear when he reached for his quiver.
Kenon drove an arrow deep into E’ly’s ribcage. A strangled noise escaped her lips as sparks skittered over her armor. Then her grip on his wrist loosened. She went limp. He released her scrawny neck, and her body slumped to the cavern floor.
It’s done. She’s gone, Kenon thought, pulse pounding in his ears. He turned to his teammates as they approached, both relieved to see them and annoyed that they had followed him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Looking for you,” Carter replied.
“You should not be here!”
Jhiral snarled. “How dare you?” She marched over and slammed her hands against his harness. “You self-sacrificing son of a bitch! How could you take off on your own like that? You could have—”
“Alume!” Jenkinson barked. “Stand down.”
Reluctantly, she withdrew, fists balled at her sides.
Alana lifted her visor, her nose and cheeks instantly reddened by the frigid air. Or perhaps she was on the verge of tears. “After everything we’ve been through—after everything we’ve done . . . You would risk it all just to make sure we got out alive?”
“I could not bear the thought of losing anyone else.”
“But you’re fine putting billions of lives in jeopardy?” She flapped her arms outward in exasperation. “People die, Kenon! That’s war. This is what we both signed up for.”
He flinched when she raised her voice.
She huffed. “You can’t save everyone. And if me dying means the rest of the galaxy gets to live . . . I’m fine with that.” Her gaze softened. “Now can you promise me you won’t run off again so we can move ahead with the mission?”
Kenon gave a slight nod. “You have my word.”
———PART V———
GRANDE FINALE
Chapter
——THIRTY-ONE——
0630 Hours, September 15, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Internal Network, planet Calypsis
Motionless carapaces lay scattered about the snow, a trail of lifeless machines leading all the way to an ingress at the end of the passage. Their shells were unmarked, undamaged. Darkness shrouded their mechanical eyes. There was no indication of a fight in the area. No claw marks or kicked up snow. Not a single clue as to what had taken place here, or when. As far as Echo Team could tell, the creatures had just keeled over.
Inside, even more of them had collapsed.
Jhiral gave one of the still beasts a tentative nudge. The loose plates along its neck clattered softly. “Creepy,” she hissed. “It’s almost like they all ran out of power. What could have done this?”
“Who cares?” Carter retorted, keeping his distance from the metal carcasses. “They conked out. They’re dead. Thank the big guy upstairs and pick up the pace. I’d rather not hang around here any longer than we have—”
A loud crash cut his sentence short.
He whipped out his rifle, spun to confront whatever had made the noise . . . and his flashlight came to rest on Lieutenant Jenkinson, who had accidentally knocked over one of the upright ravager bodies by the door.
“Fucking Christ, Carter, check yourself!”
Carter promptly lowered his gun and mumbled an apology.
The man could be a bit unruly at times, but never jumpy. Strangely, he had been on edge since their first encounter with the machines. Could they have gotten under his skin? Awoken some deep-rooted fear within him?
Whatever the case, Jenkinson wasn’t at all fond of his behavior. “You point that thing at me again, and I swear to god, I will tear it out of your arms,” he said. “The last thing I need is for you to put a goddamn bullet in my cranium.”
Once Carter had regained his composure, the team moved on.
Hours crawled by without so much as a whiff of enemy activity. No ravagers, no legionnaires. The Nephera must have sent the last of their forces to fight in orbit, leaving the seekers and their machines to guard the internal network.
Two of the seekers were already dead.
Apparently, so were all the ravagers.
If that was right, only the Seeker of Solace remained.
But where is he? Kenon wondered, then paused in his speculations as the team was about to pass an open room. It bore no captivating features, or anything to indicate it was an area of interest. The only thing unique about it was the pure white alloy from which it was built. Yet, Kenon felt drawn towards it.
They couldn’t simply pass without taking a peek.
“Alume, Carter—watch the entrances,” Jenkinson ordered. While they took up positions at the doorways on either side of the room, he joined everyone else around a holographic cylinder in the center.
The cylinder was made up of numerous screens, all rolled into a slowly-rotating tube like a scroll dangling from a string. Each display held a wealth of information—data that was, sadly, indecipherable. Not only were the words warped, they were alien.
“Don’t suppose any of you can read Nepheran?” Jenkinson asked.
“We would need an AI,” Parker said. “Even then, we’d probably be out of luck. I don’t think Sector Two has managed to translate their language yet.”
“Well, nothing’s stopping us from capturing the data. Get a nice close-up shot of it. We can take the recordings home and wait for the xenolinguists to crack it.”
A particular thread of text caught Kenon’s attention. He followed it around the cylinder, tracking a set of remarkably familiar symbols. Rounded shapes, sharp angles, and sweeping lines . . . In many ways, they were similar to those used by the Drahkori.
The longer he studied them, the more he questioned whether they were Nepheran at all. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, this could very well be the same language they discovered at the Silver Forge.
These are the archives, Doramire told him. Once occupied by technical data, now overwritten by the memo
ries stripped from my Caelevit. This is proof of my existence. This is evidence of humanity’s lost history. You may access these records through the central module.
Kenon lifted his hands to the cylinder and carefully submerged them in the holograms. A tingling sensation ran across his skin as his fingers passed through the first layer of screens, growing increasingly stronger the further he went.
This set off an alarm somewhere in Jenkinson’s mind. But when he moved forward and opened his mouth to berate the young warrior, Alana put her arm out in front of him.
“It’s okay,” she said. “He knows what he’s doing.”
With the vykord guiding his movements, Kenon motioned upward and outward with a flick of his wrists. The cylinder lit up like a flare, exploding into a shower of colorful particles that danced like embers in a breeze.
And the entire room came to life.
Dappled browns and green melted over the floor panels to emulate the grounds of a lush forest. Flowers bloomed at Kenon’s feet, filling the room with floral scents, and the ceiling blossomed into a full canopy of leaves, through which rays of artificial sunlight shone.
A group of triangular structures materialized beyond the forest. The woodland village stood for a heartbeat or two, then started to change. Soil turned to sandstone. Trees evaporated to reveal a stark blue sky. Great towers of marble sprang from the ground in place of the village. Echo Team retreated into a tight formation as hazy figures swept by—the featureless smudges of Drahkori unremembered.
For a minute, Kenon wondered if this was some part of Ceida from long ago. The layout was similar, as was the architecture. Then he spotted the docking station further up the road. Tiny filaments of golden light came together to form a single word upon its marble arch:
BARLOW.
It was the station they’d found beneath the Deadlands—prior to its collapse. Prior to whatever disaster had buried it beneath the earth.
The Calypsis Project Boxed Set (Books 1-2 - The Echo-Alpha Duology) Page 58