Atara reached the general’s sidearm and brought it up, one-handed to point it at her mother’s chest.
She pulled the trigger.
A flash of crimson light blinded Tyra, and a blast of super-heated air hit her in the face. The sharp smell of ozone filled her nostrils, but the scalding stab of pain never came. Instead, Tyra heard chunks of castcrete debris pitter-pattering to the floor behind her.
She opened her eyes to see Atara trying to steady the pistol for another shot, this time with both hands, but her right hand was swollen and purpling with a bad bruise. No wonder she’d missed. She’d fired the gun one-handed. The recoil had been too much.
Before Atara could fire again, she was hoisted up by an invisible force, and held dangling by her arm. She kicked and screamed, cursing in a language that definitely wasn’t Versal.
Then the air shimmered, and a wall of corpse-gray skin and rippling muscle appeared, hissing in Atara’s face.
“Brak!” Tyra had never been more happy to see anyone in her entire life.
He wrenched the pistol from Atara’s hand and flicked it back to stun.
“This isn’t over,” she said, smiling smugly.
Brak thrust the pistol into her chest and pulled the trigger. A flash of blue light rippled over Atara and her eyes rolled up in her head. Brak set her down gently with her muscles still spasming as arcs of blue fire leapt off her body.
The Gor turned to face Tyra. “Are you okay?”
She ran to pick up Theola before answering. “I am now,” she said, while bouncing Theola on her hip to quiet her desperate cries.
“Where is Graves?” Brak asked.
“You didn’t see him?”
Brak shook his head.
“He just left.”
“I just arrive. I climb up to the window,” Brak said, nodding to the en-suite bathroom.
Tyra let out a shaky sigh. “If you’d arrived just a second later...” she trailed off, shaking her head, unable to finish that thought.
Brak nodded. “Graves. Where is he?”
Tyra pointed to the open door of the bedroom. “He left. I overheard him speaking to someone. It might have been Ellis. He mentioned something about going to the stasis chambers.”
Brak hissed. “That is where the Faro prisoners are!”
“You think they’re planning to break them out?”
“Maybe,” Brak said. “Are there more bots inside the house?”
“If there are, they won’t be a threat. They need a human to give them orders.”
“Then make sure she does not wake up to do so,” Brak replied, nodding to Atara’s unconscious form. He passed her the general’s pistol to her. “In case she does,” he explained.
She took the weapon with a grimace and nodded, watching as Brak hurried for the door. “Where are you going?”
“To find Graves,” he replied, and promptly vanished, the air shimmering around him as he cloaked once more.
As soon as Brak was gone, Tyra turned to Atara. She glared at her daughter, lying face down on the floor, her back rising and falling slowly. A paranoid thought skittered through Tyra’s mind: Atara might only be pretending to be unconscious.
She almost stunned Atara again to be sure—the risks be damned—but a flash of guilt answered that thought. Atara was her daughter!
And yet she wasn’t. Whatever this thing was, it only looked like her.
Tyra waved to the holoscreen at the foot of the bed, and selected the comms panel to place a call to emergency services.
The head and shoulders of the operator appeared on the screen. She looked infuriatingly calm. “Emergency services, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“My daughter just tried to shoot her baby sister with a gun.”
“Does she still have the weapon, ma’am?”
Tyra held the weapon up in front of the screen. “No. She’s been stunned.”
“Okay. The police are on their way. Does your daughter have a history of mental illness, or violent behavior toward family members?”
“No. Not until recently. She’s five.”
“I see...”
“Don’t give me that look. She was touched by the aliens when they came aboard. They did something to her.”
The operator’s expression went from wary to suspicious. “Have you been watching the news, ma’am?”
“No, why?”
The operator frowned. “No reason, ma’am... the police will be there soon.”
Tyra had an odd feeling that this woman didn’t believe her. “I’d also like to report a break-in.”
“Your daughter broke into her own home?”
“No. General Graves of the Marines did. He stunned us and held us hostage along with my daughter, but he left. You should send a squad to arrest him.”
The operator’s eyebrows beetled and her frown deepened. “I see... ma’am, have you taken anything recently?”
“Taken anything? Like what?”
“Pills, drugs, alcoholic beverages...”
“I’m not high!”
“Of course not,” the operator said. “The police will be there soon. Please try to remain calm.”
“I’m already calm!” Tyra shouted, and hung up. She glanced at Atara again, but she was still out cold. It was too soon for the effects of the stun blast to be wearing off.
Tyra paced the floor while she waited for the police to arrive. Theola looked up at her with big eyes, sucking her thumb. The operator clearly hadn’t believed even half of what she’d said. She probably thought Tyra was the crazy one, but she’d have to send the police either way.
Tyra’s thoughts turned to Lucien while she waited, and something the operator had said clicked. Have you been watching the news, ma’am? She turned back to the holoscreen and tried using it to contact Lucien, but he was listed as offline.
Failing that, she set the screen to a local news channel to see what the operator had been talking about. A reporter appeared standing on a dark street in front of a bright holographic sign that read, Resurrection Center. Police patrol cars, fire trucks, and ambulances lined the street in the background, their lights all flashing blue and red. Glowing yellow police tape barred the entrance of the center.
The reporter on the screen was midway through her report. “...appears to be some kind of an armed confrontation in the records room between the center’s security forces and the terrorists. As you saw just a moment ago, several squads of Marines have now gone in to join the fight. They declined to comment on their orders, but it seems they may have been sent to put a stop to the fighting before the bomb goes off.”
The scene switched to show two more reporters sitting behind a desk back at the news station. The one reporting live from the center was reduced to a box in the bottom right of the screen.
They discussed the implications of everything that was happening amongst themselves, leading viewers to the unsettling conclusion that the center could blow at any second thanks to the dead-man’s switch that the terrorists had wired to their bomb. Tyra’s heart thundered in her chest. Things had gone badly awry at the center. Lucien was in the middle of a firefight. She imagined Coretti’s bomb going off and Lucien being ripped apart in the explosion. If that happened, there’d be no bringing him back to life. With the center destroyed, he and anyone else who died in the explosion would be gone for good. Get out of there, Lucien! Just get out! But she knew he wouldn’t. This was their only chance of saving Atara. Not to mention the rest of Astralis.
Sirens came screaming to Tyra’s ears along with the idling rumble of hover car engines. The police had arrived. She waved the screen off and ran downstairs with Theola to meet the police.
Tyra reached the front door—what was left of it after Marine bots had blasted it open. Two policemen came running up the walkway, their stun pistols drawn. “Drop your weapon and put your hands above your head!” one of them yelled.
Tyra dropped the weapon, but raised only one hand. “I’m holding a baby!
”
The officer who’d spoken stopped a few feet away. “Kick the gun toward us.”
Tyra did so, and the policeman picked it up.
“I’m not the threat here!” Tyra said. “Look at the door! Do you think I could have done that much damage with that little gun? And why would I break into my own house?”
The policemen appeared to see the sense in what she was saying.
“Who’s inside, ma’am?”
“Just my eldest daughter. She’s upstairs, stunned. She tried to shoot us with that gun.”
“Wait outside, ma’am,” the policeman said as he and his partner pushed by her.
Tyra watched them storm through her living room, their guns sweeping left to right, looking for hidden threats. Not encountering anything, they proceeded up the stairs, on their way to arrest Atara.
Tyra couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but relief. A mother’s love was supposed to be unconditional, but whatever Atara was, she wasn’t her daughter anymore.
At this point all she could think about was Lucien and whether or not he was going to make it out of this alive.
Despite Tyra’s utter lack of belief in Etherus, she found herself whispering a prayer to keep him safe. The true test of an agnostic was in facing death unafraid, but she was terrified.
Chapter 47
Astralis
Lucien fired another burst from his pulse pistol. This time it hit something vital and his target collapsed in a shower of sparks. “One down,” Lucien muttered, as he ducked back into cover to avoid the bots’ return fire.
“The dead man’s switch is offline!” Fizk crowed over the comms.
“Finally!” Lucien replied. Feeling empowered by that news, he peeked out of cover again and fired a steady stream at the bots advancing on him.
He was gratified to see another bot fall, its head a molten ruin. Two of the four remaining bots broke off and went running down an aisle just ahead of the one where he was hiding, while the other two stopped where they were and returned fire. Lucien ducked back into cover just as one of their shots hit home, hissing off his failing shields. He checked the status of those shields via his ARCs and found they were down to just eleven percent. It wouldn’t be enough to shield him from even one more shot.
Lasers pounded into the data stacks beside him, spraying bright orange globules of molten metal in all directions. Lucien cringed away from the super-heated shrapnel and waited for a lull in the bots’ fire. This time they didn’t let up, and with his shields almost depleted, Lucien couldn’t risk peeking out for another shot. He glanced behind him, down to the end of the aisle, wondering if he could make a run for it.
An echoing boom sounded nearby, drawing his eyes up. He saw the two bots who’d broken off standing on top of the data storage units in the aisle just ahead of his. As he watched, their legs bent and they leapt across the aisle, landing with another boom on top of the stacks that Lucien was hiding behind.
He pressed himself flat against the storage units to avoid the bots’ tracking weapons, and gripped his pistol tighter, waiting for them to jump down into the aisle with him. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Cease fire! Cease fire!” a booming voice said. “This is Marine Sergeant Garek Helios. Override, alpha, charlie, juliet, sixteen! Acknowledge!”
“Acknowledged,” one of the bots replied, and lasers stopped slamming into the stacks.
The tension bled out of Lucien’s muscles, leaving them trembling and weak. He belatedly recognized the sergeant’s name and called out, “Garek! It’s Lucien Ortane! Remember me? We signed up for the expeditionary forces together!”
“I remember,” Garek replied in an amplified voice. “Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up.”
Lucien risked peeking around the corner, checking to make sure this wasn’t some kind of trick. But the pair of security bots who’d been firing on him had dropped their arms and integrated weapons back to their sides, and they stood idly waiting for their next command.
Lucien dropped both his pistols and crept out of cover with his hands up. “I’m unarmed,” he said.
“We’ll be there in a minute. Where are the others?”
“Joe? Are you still there?” Lucien asked over an open comms channel.
“How do we know we can trust this guy?” Joe replied.
“Because I just saved your asses, that’s why,” Garek replied.
“Sorry, not good enough. Get the film crews in here like we asked or we’ll blow this place. No more frekking around.”
“They’ll be here,” Garek replied. “Where’s Director Helios? I was told she came in with security.”
Garek Helios, Director Helios... Lucien made the connection, but Joe was the first to mention it—
“She some kind of relative of yours?”
“That’s none of your business,” Garek replied.
“I’m here!” a woman said. “These people are dangerous. You can’t trust them! You need to leave!”
“Where are you?” Garek asked.
“She’s at the terminal with me,” Fizk said. “And she’s got a gun... I think she’s going to try to erase the evidence.”
“Stand down, Nora!” Garek said.
“Fizzy, you just gonna stand there and watch?” Joe demanded. “Do something!”
“Easy for you to say! You ain’t the one with a gun in his face!”
Lucien turned and ran back down the aisle to the records terminal. He saw Director Helios there, one arm busy with a holographic keypad, the other aiming a gun at Fizk’s head.
Lucien arrived at the terminal, breathless. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
The director flashed a smile at him. “That’s none of your concern.”
Lucien took a quick step toward her, and her aim shifted to him. Fizk took his chance and lunged for her weapon, but she was too fast. She shot him in the chest just before he could grab her arm. Blue fire raced over him, and he collapsed in a pile of jittering limbs.
Lucien body-checked her, knocking the gun out of her hand before she could aim at him again. The director fell over backward with him on top of her. She kicked him in the groin, and Lucien squeezed both her wrists until he felt the bones grinding together. “Not smart,” he gritted out.
The director screamed in pain and yelled, “Help!”
“Get off her, and put your hands behind your head!” Garek roared.
Lucien turned to three full squads of Marine bots running down the aisle toward them. He did as he was told. “She was trying to erase evidence from the terminal,” he explained. “And she shot him,” he added, jerking his chin to Fizk.
“So the dead man’s switch was a lie,” Garek said.
“No, we disabled it when we realized the director didn’t care if the bomb went off and got us all killed.”
Garek’s gaze swept to her, watching as she climbed to her feet. His eyes were thoughtfully narrowed behind his helmet.
“There’s no bomb,” the director said, rubbing her wrists and wincing.
“Yes there is,” Joe said. All eyes turned to see him and Bob approaching from the far side. Both the gangster and his android had their weapons drawn and raised.
Garek shifted his aim to them, as did the other sergeants and fully half of the Marines bots. “Drop your weapons!” he demanded.
“I don’t think so. Get my film crews in here or I’ll blow this place.”
“You’d be killing yourself,” Garek said.
“You sure about that? Seems a guy like me could benefit from having his own resurrection center tucked away somewhere.”
“I don’t see a bomb,” Garek added.
“It’s inside him,” Joe said as they drew near. He nodded sideways to indicate Bob. “Show them, Bobby-boy.”
The android lifted his shirt and dug his nails through his skin, revealing shiny metal. Then he opened a panel in his stomach and revealed three cylinders filled with red and blue compounds—ano
ther binary liquid explosive, just like the one Lucien had seen in the briefcase.
“That’s not five kilotons,” Garek said.
Joe shrugged. “It’s still enough to decimate this place. You want to take the risk that your data gets atomized along with you?”
Lucien frowned. If Bob was carrying the bomb, then what had he seen in Fizk’s briefcase?
Joe kept walking until he reached the records terminal.
“Get away from there!” Garek snapped.
“Relax, I’m just checking that Fizzy here is still breathing!” Joe bent down to check Fizk’s pulse. But when he straightened again, he was holding the briefcase.
“Drop the case!” Garek said.
“You don’t want me to do that,” Joe said, and popped it open to reveal the bomb Lucien had seen earlier, with at least ten times the volume as the one inside of Bob.
The android sealed the compartment in his stomach and pulled his shirt back down.
“Oops. Looks like I have two bombs,” Joe said, with his finger hovering over the detonator switch of the one inside the case. “Get the film crews in here like I asked.”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Garek said.
“So make an exception. Don’t you want to know if your wife here is really an alien in disguise?”
Garek glanced at Nora, and shook his head. “She’s not my wife.”
“Your daughter, then...?” Joe suggested. Garek said nothing to that, and Joe smiled. “Well? What’s it gonna be?”
Garek turned to one of the other sergeants. “Send for the crews. Tell them the fighting is over and it’s safe to come in.”
“Safe?” Director Helios snorted. “They’re threatening to detonate no less than two different bombs, and they’re still armed!”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant that Garek had spoken to replied, ignoring the director’s objections. He hurried off with his squad of bots running behind him.
“Big mistake,” the director said.
Garek just looked at her. “What are you so afraid they’ll find?”
She shook her head, saying nothing this time.
They waited for what felt like a lifetime before the sergeant who’d left came back. He marched down the aisle to the data terminal with a legion of reporters and hovering holocorders trailing behind him.
Dark Space Universe (Books 1-3): The Third Dark Space Trilogy (Dark Space Trilogies) Page 61