Raddocks Horizon (Godyssey Legacy Book 1)

by Duran Cross

  “Blackhaven should be inundated with masses of contaminants given their numbers in the surrounding areas, but the zone is curiously empty. They’re losing their cognitive functions, though this evidence would indicate that they’re being directed,” says Caufmann.

  “By what?”

  Caufmann ignores him. “The infected become obedient at the expense of their intellect; think of it as degenerative atelomorphosis,” the doctor says.

  “Atelo-what?”

  Caufmann ignores him. “And the further their sentience deteriorates the more obedient they become.”

  “And they will continue deteriorating?”

  Caufmann nods, “At an accelerated rate.”

  “And that’s expected?”

  “Controlling an intelligent population is exceedingly difficult. It’s easy enough to influence people but sooner or later they’ll make their own decisions regardless of what you say. I suppose it’s just the human condition that it gets bored easily and constantly looks for a better offer for anything, everything.

  “Recently infected seem to be much more capable of complex thoughts and even subterfuge for a short while so the infection is most dangerous early on but that is where it’s fragile. There’s only a small window of opportunity for them to utilise their minds to gain an advantage,” says Caufmann.

  “After that it’s all downhill?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What if we holed up somewhere and just waited it out?”

  “How long do we wait? Until it spreads to the borders of Australia and beyond? Until it’s global?”

  “But you said we’re already going to lose the city so it’ll spread anyway.”

  “We’ve lost the city, Rennin.”

  “Then what are we doing here? We should glass it and be done with it.”

  “There is far too much we don’t know. This fight will never be won through weapons. We can slaughter every last one of them, and it won’t make the slightest difference because we don’t know where or how it started. Knowledge is what we need, as much of it as we can get. Make no mistake, this is ground zero for an extinction level pandemic.”

  Rennin is not surprised, but the conversation does absolutely nothing to improve his outlook on the whole situation.

  Dead Star is joined in the sky by other gunships, Genome among them, and almost a dozen others. The former watchman eyes the Genome gunship for a few moments wondering how the pilot is holding up after the suicide of the only other survivor from Clone Unit.

  Launching a volley of missiles won’t do much to help a loss like that.

  Rennin is about to ask why there are so many following their heading when Commander Croft comes over the radio announcing their orders. Raston Squad are going to engage the Suvaco android north of Blackhaven, within the Brighthelm District.

  Croft goes on to give the other gunships their deployment points. Most of them are being told to reinforce the blockade forces that are under heavy assault.

  Del is perfectly still but Rennin can see his jaw clenching and unclenching. The night is moving towards morning and the horizon is just starting to lighten with the false dawn. Desolator 1 can be seen several kilometres ahead.

  Rennin heads straight for it.

  ◆◆◆

  Sindaris Tessol is walking so slowly through the underground passage that he doesn’t even feel like he’s moving. Crowds of contaminants are meandering all over the area, crawling, biting and dragging themselves from one place to another. Sindaris keeps his hood well over his face to conceal his eyes but the ones around him are little more than animals and don’t take much notice of him.

  Some of them are so advanced in their mutation that they barely resemble the human beings they once were. Their skin has turned black, their eyes too. Their hands have become like claws, ending in long hooks capable of gripping into walls. Their mouths have split vertically as well as their original horizontal alignment and the maw that was once a normal mouth is full of teeth that can tear a fist sized chunk of flesh out of a human in one quick bite. But those ones are nothing more than feeding and killing machines, completely incapable of any complex thought.

  Sindaris can’t feel even a hint of mood from them, only a constant nagging hunger. But he is very sure of hiding his thoughts and his name behind his own feigned hunger. He is worried they will try to make him eat with them or offer up a share of whatever poor soul they’ve found and killed, but they don’t. The contaminants don’t share food under any circumstances. The faster they eat, the faster they mutate. They become stronger, faster, and deadlier but their mental state regresses all the more quickly.

  Every now and then he hears a scream for help. It uses all his self-control to stop himself responding and takes his full focus to continually mentally project the ice he feels around his heart. It is only Screamers, after all.

  Please just be Screamers.

  Sindaris has since learned that they are not contaminants placing clever traps but a mere offshoot mutation not so different from himself. It seems that these particular offshoots of infection don’t react very well at all. They are infected in any of the usual manners but their bodies react so strongly to the virus that it kills them before it can develop the parasite correctly. Though after death the virus still brings them back, but as a primal ruin of a sentient being. They seem only capable of hysterically screeching the last thing they said when they were still alive. Some Screamers just run in circles, most called for help since infection is usually caused by some kind of attack. Or they act out whatever action was their last.

  A Screamer is running back and forth in front of Sindaris now with dead white eyes staring into nothing but the phantasmal hallucination brought on by the last tethers of electrical current in its mind. All it keeps saying over and over again is: ‘What’s that?’ over and over. Frantically. The look on its face is distorted by the full weight of fear.

  The contaminants do not set traps, they just wait nearby to the Screamers knowing that someone will come to check out the noise sooner or later. An ambush of convenience, nothing more.

  Sindaris can feel thousands of minds a little further up the corridor, all waiting for something. The entity. It is here, or at least it’s going to be. Whatever it is. If Sindaris can kill it, the military forces might have a chance against this horrific plague.

  Contaminants are slowly streaming up the dark passages to fill some kind of reservoir. The sheer volume of contaminants in this one space is astounding. He dips his head and follows behind a few of them, making sure to keep the feeling of hunger strong in his mind.

  ◆◆◆

  Rennin is daydreaming about the past as Dead Star sails through the darkening sky en route to the Suvaco’s location.

  Logan, Childes and Gilles aren’t the only soldiers that Rennin has killed that were considered to be on his side. Years ago there were a few others. Rennin joined the CryoZaiyon War for revenge. As far as he was concerned at that time, he was on his own side. Anyone facing off against the Gorai Aurelia was good enough to throw his lot in with.

  In Rennin’s opinion, some people just shouldn’t be alive. Across the battlefields he’d stumbled across several of his own men whom decided that they weren’t going to abide by certain rules regarding captured opposition forces. Not that Rennin cared much for them. Though when some of them victimised civilians that became a very different story.

  Rennin can’t stand pack mentality. He still has a difficult time coming to terms with the amount of civilians that died. The ratio of civilian deaths versus military losses was staggering and that fuelled the rage that burned inside him when his own troops mistreated the people they’re supposed to be fighting for. It is horrible what some people become when there’s no one around to enforce the rules.

  Monkeys with guns.

  Rennin did not stand by idly at such times. Sometimes a simple battering would let them know that just because there seems to be nothing to stop them, it doesn’t mean they ca
n do whatever they want.

  Others just needed to die.

  The first death Rennin was responsible for was via purposeful negligence when he failed to supply adequate sniper cover for a particular soldier. In the military, the mission takes precedence over all. For Rennin it’s the principle, not the mission. He didn’t leave him to die outright, he just missed a few shots he’d normally have nailed every time.

  Because of the poor sniper cover the soldier was hit by flechettes in the abdomen. From Rennin’s vantage point his death was messy. It also looked agonising. Good.

  He’s brought back to the present when the COM in Dead Star beeps indicating they are directly over the landing zone. Rennin takes Dead Star to the ground.

  Del is straight out of the gunship with his rifle in hand. The android’s teeth are extended and gritted together. Caufmann is instantly out after his creation and the others follow behind. Rennin remains behind to pilot the craft. Carmine stays with him, manning the gun.

  Del is running towards the Suvaco feeling a desperate need to kill this invading android. Something inside his mind is being invaded by the intruders’ system. The signal has been gradually strengthening as Dead Star approached the Suvaco’s position. His attempts to tell Caufmann were dismissed, and his attempts to tell Rennin at the stadium were even more unsuccessful; the former watchman didn’t seem to possess a system capable of receiving Del’s text.

  The signal is trying to force him into obeying a series of cunningly deceptive commands designed to alter his ‘protect’ and ‘destroy’ protocols. Effectively someone is trying to remotely rewrite his mind. Del, doing his own calculations, believes that the signal is at peak strength as long as most of the units are active, as if their very bodies amplify the transmission. Although Del is confidently ignoring the rewrites he has arrived at only one viable solution to keep his mind his own: kill them all. Any Suvaco unit not disassembled is now Del’s enemy.

  The blind android reaches an intersection. Del’s sensors are telling him the Suvaco unit is just around the corner so he turns left at full sprint grunting, feeling his lungs opening up for the first time taking in huge breaths of air to power his frame.

  Drej and Antares are trying to keep up, but Del’s speed eclipses even their efforts. He bursts around the corner, sending a powerful sonar pulse outwards. The shape of the Suvaco emerges. Del instantly recognises that it’s fully armoured and aware of his presence.

  The Suvaco structure is similar to Del but its frame is more heavyset and a helmet with shining red eyes conceals its head. A rocket sails towards him but Del, moving so quickly, seems to flicker to the side, allowing the shot to pass and blow up behind him.

  Del’s composure isn’t even dented. He chambers a round in his bolt-action rifle, charges the photon round and takes aim. Another rocket leaves the Suvaco’s weapon but Del remains still long enough to take his shot. Drej and Antares just make it around the corner to be greeted with an incredibly loud thunderclap and a dust cloud in the face due to the backlash of Del’s Sunbreaker.

  The beam hits the Suvaco in the chest with an impact so severe it is thrown it off its feet, crashing to the ground. Del almost casually steps aside letting the next rocket zip past, reloading his rifle in one smooth motion.

  Unhindered by the dust cloud he fires again while the Suvaco attempts to regain its feet. The thunderclap sends another burst of dust as the shot hits its right knee, sending its body into a somersault. Del drops the rifle and is over at the wounded hulk in an instant.

  Caufmann can’t believe what he’s seeing; a week ago he could barely function and now he’s in battle. He urges Del to exercise caution but the doctor doesn’t understand the mental disease that’s trying to invade his mind, and the urgency required to end it.

  Del lets out a roar and slams his foot onto the Suvaco’s head, deforming the helmet inwards. The creature scrambles to a crouch and manages to shove Del away momentarily as it tries to rise. Purplish blood runs out of the base of his helmet, leaking from the partially crushed face underneath.

  Del presses his advantage, kicking from the hip to crumple the helmet even further, sending the Suvaco falling onto its back. Del wastes no time. He reaches down and grips the android by the neck. Despite his smaller stature, Del lifts the creature with ease until it’s at eye level. Though Del has no eyes he makes sure this thing gets a good long look at him. Then, with a flick of his wrists, Del severs the spinal column by breaking the Suvaco’s neck at right angles before dropping the corpse.

  ◆◆◆

  Rennin hears the rockets explode and soon afterwards the Suvaco transponder reading disappears from his monitor. Rennin is surprised that it took so little time, and that Del took absolutely no damage. Barely any energy was recorded expelling from his system.

  A moment later, Caufmann is on the radio. The doctor advises they’re on their way back. Rennin allows himself to slip into daydreams again. He may as well let his guard down a little since Carmine is scanning the streets with the gunship-mounted side cannon, holding onto it like it’s his mother and he’s just had a horrible dream.

  The man Rennin let die during the war crosses Rennin’s mind again. Corporal Crane. He tries to think back to what started his flashback earlier. But try as he might he can’t remember what he was brooding on beforehand.

  It was something to do with something to do with some other thing that Rennin couldn’t remember at the time. Sense makes, Rennin, sense makes.

  The crew pile back into Dead Star and Rennin drags his tired mind back to the task at hand and lifts off vertically. He overhears grumbles from the coterie behind him, as a few fall over with the rest of the team staggering for their seats.

  “Jesus, Ren, you think you could waited a sec?” asks Drake.

  A call comes over the radio, “Dead Star, this is Commander Croft.”

  “I read you,” says Rennin.

  “A massive android has joined the siege on Corporal Verge’s position.”

  “A Suvaco?”

  “You’re aware of the chassis type?”

  Rennin glances to Caufmann, who nods for him to answer the commander. “Yes, sir.”

  “Is this a private channel?”

  “Need it to be?”

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  Rennin shrugs to Caufmann, then taps the console loudly pretending to patch the audio to his headset. “It’s private, sir.”

  “Is that ‘Del’ thing with you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Caufmann is too then?”

  “Affirm.”

  “I need you to get to Verge’s position and pull the survivors out. Then I want you to take Caufmann into custody and disable the Del android.”

  That catches Rennin completely off guard. “Say again?”

  “Is there something you didn’t understand, Sergeant?”

  “They’ve been indispensable so far, I’m having trouble getting my head around your logic.”

  “The Suvaco androids are from the lab. After the explosion there two days ago the infection rate went off the charts. I don’t find these to be coincidences.

  Prototype’s damn NAPA bombs.

  “I want Del deactivated and disassembled at your convenience, and Caufmann taken into custody pending a trial when you put down at Whitechapel.”

  “But, sir-”

  “Is that understood?” Croft booms.

  Rennin takes a breath and looks at Caufmann’s reflection in the view port. The doctor shows no response. He continues to type on his gauntlet, probably to Del. Rennin speaks. “Wilco, sir.”

  “Good,” says Croft. “You worked with Doctor Caufmann at the lab, is that correct?”

  Rennin is already dreading what’s going through Caufmann’s mind right now. “Yes, sir.”

  “You served with androids early in your career?”

  One way of putting it. “Yes.”

  “Then your lieutenant will need all the information you can provide in taking down androids.
Is that understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Out,” says Croft, ending the transmission.

  Rennin closes off the monitor and makes sure all communication channels are disabled before slowly turning to face Caufmann who is already looking at him. Rennin’s eyes flicker to Del but the great android is perfectly still.

  “That went well,” he shrugs.

  The corners of Caufmann’s mouth turn up in that unsettling smile of his. “Regret letting us hear all that?”

  “No,” Rennin answers, looking to Sabre. “Are we going to have a problem?”

  Del visibly tenses.

  The tension in the air is paramount before Sabre answers. “If it wasn’t for Del, we would never have held them at the stadium. I owe my life to it, and by extension the man who built it.”

  “Anyone here feel like following that order?”

  Most shake their heads. Mia and Jawa remain still, but voice no complaints. Drake turns to Rennin.

  “What the hell is going on? Why do they want us to kill Del and arrest Caufmann?”

  Rennin shrugs. “Why you asking me? I heard what you heard.”

  Caufmann gives Sabre an appraising look. “Do you know why you were given callsigns instead of using your names?”

  Sabre moves self-consciously in his seat, obviously uncomfortable in talking to Caufmann. “They told us it was to differentiate between ground troops and gunship crews.”

  Caufmann’s eyes remain fixed on him for a moment. “They gave you callsigns because everything sent over radio waves is recorded. Rennin aerially bombed nearly a dozen buildings defending the stadium to route the contaminants. How many uninfected survivors were hiding in those buildings, I wonder?” he says, tapping the side of his head.

  “How can anyone know that?”

  “If this city is won, there will be people going through every building room by room or pile of rubble turning over every piece of debris, what do you think they’ll find? Who will be blamed when they find, what your kind call, ‘collateral damage’?”

  Rennin laughs, “They’ll blame you, Doc, don’t kid yourself.”