Here was the moment where I figured everything would fall apart for us. There would be some fine detail that EP had forgotten to explain and whamo, the Kargs would fill us with lead. I fully expected to die in a hail of bullets.
Nothing of the kind happened. One or two Kargs shook their rifles. Another actually twisted his weapon around and peered down the barrel. I couldn’t believe it. The Kargs had idiots on their side, too.
I shouted, and even though I’d told my troopers not to charge, I ran at the aliens with my axe held up high. A Karg shoved off the ground and held up his rifle to block my stick-like axe.
The shaft was heavy like a sledgehammer, though, and the axe and handle were ultra-dense. The intensely sharp wedge-edge sheared through the Karg rifle, the cone-like, alien head and part of the body. Black blood gushed out, some of it washing onto my chest. I stepped forward, slipped on the blood and fell hard. Even as I went down, I knew the deadliest hazard came from my own axe. I made sure to keep that edge away from me. I thudded onto my back and a Karg scuttled toward me. He might have made it, but my neighbor saw my dilemma and raced near. His axe chopped the Karg in half. It was beautiful, glorious, and a bloody mess.
I learned that a deadly figure-eight weave worked best. I hacked, chopped, gored, gutted, slipped and slid for fifteen panting minutes. We waded through Kargs. We hacked apart BigDogs. Occasionally, one of the troopers went down to a rush of Kargs. We lost the most men that way as our own axes sliced a trooper on the bottom of a pile of tentacle-striking Kargs.
Finally, finding that I could hardly raise the axe any more, my replacement tapped me on my shoulder. I gave him the axe and went to the back of the line.
Five soldiers per axe. Not one of the First One weapons broke. I didn’t think anything could snap a handle in half or chip an Obdurate-10 blade.
How many did we kill? Saul slew his thousands and David his tens of thousands. We slew tens of thousands, and we advanced through the Karg lines toward the great Forerunner object.
I recalled how in the Middle Ages, well-armored knights with the best swords and horses could wade through enemy lines, especially if the enemy were pitch-fork-armed peasants. Cortes and his Spanish conquistadors had also done likewise through Aztec armies. They’d had a few cannons and crude matchlock guns. Mostly, they had armor and Toledo steel swords. Their Indian foes had obsidian-chip blades and cotton armor. We had a continuity field, the sharpest axes of two universes, symbiotic-suit strength and neuro-fiber speed. Here, in this place, it proved to be the winning combination.
Yeah, they whittled us down. The Kargs had been doing that the entire time. The Lokhars had to join us in the continuity field, and we lost contact with the other two attack columns.
Ours finally waded through the enemy, and I motioned scouts to look outside the gray field of drifting black motes. The scouts returned to us, signaling the all-clear.
“Let’s finish this, boys,” I said. We maneuvered for one of the other main corridors and hit the Kargs from behind. That freed the second attack column. We did the same for the third group, and now the last of the assault troopers made it through enemy lines.
After several hours of constant combat, our continuity field finally went down. The grayness fled and the brilliance of the inner planet struck. I cried out at the bright pain stabbing my eyes. A few moments later, with my gloves over my visor, I found it had polarized and I could see again.
We ran down the corridor and came to what I can only call a giant air moat. Before us was space, lots of it, but in the distance I spied the Forerunner artifact spinning slowly like a giant gyroscope. We had reached the center of the portal planet.
-30-
We nailed crystalline ropes to the metal floor. Then we slid the rest of the way down. Yeah, the gravity tugged us that way, although in my humble opinion it shouldn’t have done so. Most of the mass was above us now.
I’m sure you’re familiar with the old Arthur C. Clarke quote about extremely high tech seeming like magic to ignorant grunts like us. This place seemed magical, but in a weird, grim way. Some of the surprising magic had helped, but most had hurt.
I slid down the long rope, the thing slippery in my bio-suited hands. I looked around as I traveled. There was lots of open space, with milky strands floating in the methane atmosphere. I wrapped my legs around the rope, trying to generate greater traction. For some freakish reason, radio waves didn’t work far in this place. I couldn’t communicate with those in the corridors anymore.
Hard radiation must have been hitting me. My bones ached and there was a copper taste in my mouth. The former Altair Object had a black hole in its center. Always these black holes—I was sick of them.
Finally, using my torso, hands and legs, I almost brought myself to a halt. I slid slower in any case, and I could see the end of the rope approaching, around fifty feet from the great turning artifact below. The thing was silvery bright, and I thought to spy a cluster of buildings in the inner ring.
“Get ready, Creed old buddy,” I told myself. “You have one more drop to make.”
I slid off the end of the rope, and then I fell toward the rotating surface. I gained speed, heading toward terminal velocity. The metallic surface loomed bigger and it came even faster. I managed to keep my legs aimed down, and I hit, absorbed the best I could and let my knees buckle. I slammed down onto my chest, and the force knocked the air from my lungs. My legs hurt as if they’d broken. Maybe someone rolled me then. I don’t know.
“Commander Creed, can you hear me? Answer please if you can.”
I opened my eyes, peering at a trooper who had come down before me. By the voice, it was Dmitri.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What’s wrong now?”
The Cossack laughed, and he slapped me on the shoulder. I wish he hadn’t done that. It made me twist in pain.
“I need your help, Commander,” Dmitri said. “Kargs are coming from the other side.”
I groaned as I sat up, and I looked around. I could see more troopers sliding down the ropes. With Dmitri were twenty members of his zagun. We were the advance force, the scouts.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
Despite the aches and pains, and a throb in my left knee, I limped along the outer hull of the artifact. Its bulk shielded us from the black hole and hopefully from the worst of the radiation. As we ran—bounded, really, like old time Moon astronauts—I unslung my laser rifle. We’d been saving them. Now it was time to use the Bahnkouvs.
As if we moved on a mini-world, Kargs appeared on the short horizon, and a firefight started. We threw ourselves prone and sighted the lasers. Then we began to slaughter Kargs, and the reason proved simple. The black hole in the center of the torus affected each bullet’s flight path just enough.
This close to the singularity, the gravity had a disproportionate effect on the small objects. The bullets kept turning inward toward the black hole, and the Karg intellect, at least that of its soldiery, proved insufficient to grasp the concept. It told me others must program them for battle. The codes called for specifics in targeting, I’m guessing, which the Kargs continued to do even in this hostile environment.
The last battle was the easiest, and as more and more troopers landed on the torus, we drove the Kargs into headlong retreat. Finally, we swept them from the artifact. At my command, snipers knelt and readied their Bahnkouvs for distance shots. Across the vast space, Kargs gathered at their corridor openings. Hot beams sliced into them. Some Kargs tumbled in. They were dead lemmings falling down an alien cliff. The others piled before the opening, so the Kargs behind had to yank them out of the way in order to get their turns to die.
By this time, over half the surviving troopers had made it onto the torus. Using relays of Earth soldiers like a radio pony express, we passed messages from one location to the next. Soon, I held a strategy conference with N7, Ella and EP.
“Now what are we supposed to do?” I asked the little relic.
“We must reach
the main controls,” EP said.
I nodded. I had a bad idea I knew where those controls were located. “Do you mean the tiny city on the inner edge?” I asked.
“Precisely,” EP said.
“What about radiation?” I asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” EP asked. “You use the continuity field to block it from harming you.”
I suppose that made sense.
N7 spoke up. “Isn’t there a danger the continuity field will interfere with the black hole? Wouldn’t that have a deadly impact on all of us?”
“Ahhh…” EP said, in its thinking voice. “Why yes. You are correct. You cannot employ the continuity field, Commander. Doing so will destroy the object.”
I silently counted to three before asking, “Do you know how to set the coordinates so the object can take us back to our universe?”
“No,” EP said. “That is far beyond my capacity.”
I thought the relic had said before it could pilot us home. I shrugged. Maybe it was better this way. I didn’t want to trust the relic as an interdimensional pilot. Still, EP’s lack created a problem. “So…who exactly can set the coordinates?” I asked.
“The Altair Object will know,” EP said.
“You’re not telling me the thing we’re standing on can communicate like you,” I said.
“Not like me, no,” EP said. “But yes, it can communicate. It is older than I am by many cycles.”
“How many Earth years is that?” I asked.
“Well over two thousand.”
“What?”
“I feel it is time I confessed,” EP said.
I braced myself for the worst.
“The Altair Object is a Primary,” the relic said, “while I am a Secondary.”
I frowned. “Is that supposed to be important?”
“It is everything.” Lights played a fast sequence upon EP’s shell. “Come. It is time to discover if the Primary will reject you or not.”
I knew it couldn’t be this easy. No. There always had to be one more thing. Now we had to talk to the big Forerunner object, not just the little runt who seldom got things right. I wondered if the Lokhars knew secrets about Forerunners that could aid us.
It turned out that N7 had similar thoughts. “Perhaps we should summon Doctor Sant,” our android said. “He may possess information we will need.”
“I would advise against that,” Ella said. “I…have a feeling it’s important we keep the Lokhars away for now.”
I studied the Russian scientist. EP had rayed a pink mind-beam at Ella. Now more than ever that made me suspicious. “Why don’t you want Lokhars near?” I asked.
“Acceptance by a Primary is critical,” Ella told me.
I wasn’t sure if those were her thoughts or our relic’s. How far could I trust Ella about the Forerunners anyway? I didn’t know, and I didn’t like that, not here at the end.
“Ella, you stay with the others. N7, you’re coming with me.”
“No!” Ella said.
I aimed my visor at her, waiting for a reason.
“Uh…” Ella said. “You should take more humans along. I think that’s important.”
Was she right? I glanced at N7 and then at EP. I didn’t know enough to make an informed decision. So I went with my gut.
“Not this time,” I told Ella. “Rollo and Dmitri should stay here on the outer hull. The Kargs aren’t finished trying to storm this place. Keeping the artifact here is everything for our enemies. I don’t know whom else I want with me in the Forerunner city. Normally, I’d take you, but…”
Ella stiffened, although she said, “You cannot trust me. I agree. EP has tampered with my thinking. You are right to leave me here.”
“Add your laser to the firing line,” I told her, “or keep an eye on Sant and the Lokhars. I don’t want any of them following us.”
“I must protest,” EP said. “I wish for the woman to join us.”
“Nope,” I said. “That you want her along means it’s probably a bad idea. It’s just going to be the three of us now.”
I thought the relic would argue. Instead, EP bobbed up and down, and it finally submitted to my decision.
We set out immediately, heading inward. Maybe this was the last lap, with three unique beings traveling toward the cluster of buildings on the inner ring. We had a heavily modified N-series mining android, an ancient Forerunner construct and an ex-con to decide the fate of our universe. Crazy, huh? While thinking about it, my left knee gave another grimacing throb. I favored it, enduring the pain. As I trudged along the continuing curve, finally bringing the black hole into sight, harder radiation struck. It made my bio-armor shift along my skin. Then my jaw began hurting, and I wondered if I was killing myself doing this?
“I feel it,” EP said, in what sounded like a contented voice.
“What do you feel?” I asked.
“Renewed power,” the relic said. “The Altair Object is at maximum capacity and is bleeding our bandwidth-specific energy. Ah…it is good.”
“Then Ella was right earlier,” I said. “The object has been feeding or powering up through the destruction of the Karg universe. The trans-dimensional hole is for its benefit. The Kargs coming through is just an unforeseen afterthought.”
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose you are correct,” EP admitted.
Everything soon became worse along the inner curve. My eyesight dimmed and each step made me shiver. My symbiotic suit shuddered more and more often. It wouldn’t be long before the heavy radiation killed both the suit and me.
“Commander Creed,” EP said.
I ran a swollen tongue over my loosened teeth. “What is it?” I whispered.
“Why have you failed to answer my latest queries?” EP said.
“What are you talking about?”
“The relic has addressed you several times in the last minute,” N7 said.
“I guess I’m not hearing so well anymore,” I said.
“Is there a problem?” EP asked.
I laughed hoarsely. My throat had become raw. One area hurt like a razor every time I swallowed. “The hard radiation from the black hole is killing both me and my suit.”
“Ahhh…” EP said. “I had forgotten your weakness. I will inform Holgotha.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“I thought you knew,” EP said. “The Altair Object was originally known as Holgotha. Just like other Primaries, the artifact prefers a male pronoun. I shall inform him of your predicament.”
I don’t know how the little relic communicated with the big one. Radio waves didn’t travel far here. But almost immediately, I began to feel better. Soon, my bio-suit no longer squirmed, but settled down in a normal manner.
“What just happened?” I asked. “Why do I feel less sick?”
“Holgotha has been bathing you and N7 in healing rays,” EP said. “We’re almost there.”
I saw that our relic was right. The inside of the torus was a golden color with peculiar script running on the inner surface. I hadn’t been able to see it earlier. The alien letters were huge. I wondered what they said. Then I studied the buildings. They were low and squat, with fluted edges and domes. They almost seemed primitive, like stone-built houses or Stonehenge in England. Their size was deceptive, though. The things were huge. As we neared, I saw they lacked doors or windows of any kind.
“How will we gain entrance?” I asked.
“We will walk through the walls,” EP said.
“That’s possible?” I asked.
“Here, it is.”
Okay. Why not? I’d come to the Land of Oz apparently.
It still surprised me that the little relic was right. We reached a targeted dome, and EP sank through the wall. Was this thing a giant hologram then? I clenched my teeth and pushed my hand through. I felt resistance, and that made things worse. This wasn’t a hologram. I was actually pushing my hand through matter, and I didn’t like it. How was it possible? I had no idea. The wall
had greater resistance than water, but I could force my hand deeper into it. Then I took a deep breath, and I found myself passing through a translucent wall, an eerie, heart-pounding feeling.
After half a minute of slow travel, I plopped through an inner wall, to find myself in a low-ceiled chamber. It looked bare, with a dull light seeming to come from every direction.
N7 joined me, but there was no EP. I felt betrayal until I wondered if the relic had gotten lost. It wouldn’t have surprised me.
Out of the floor, a malleable substance oozed upward, creating a small bench for each of us. I sat down and so did N7 on his furniture.
“Hello,” I said, using my outer speakers.
The wall before me vibrated, and I heard a growling voice say, “You may remove your helmet in safety. I have created a breathable atmosphere for you.”
I checked my HUD, and found the tiny room indeed had an Earth air-mix at seventy-three degrees.
What the heck; I was sick of wearing this thing anyway. With a twist of my helmet, I pulled it off. The sweet aroma struck me immediately. Slowly, I let the tension flow out of my shoulders. I heard a noise, turned, and saw N7 removing his helmet.
“I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to expel my air and not have to sniff my own breath,” I said.
“Agreed,” N7 said.
“Who are you?” the wall asked with its deep vibration.
I witnessed the wall pulsating like a larynx. The center area turned a lighter color while that happened. Yeah, it was freaky, but I told myself to go along with anything right now. I was so far out of my depth that I might as well play it straight.
“I’m Commander Creed,” I said. “This is N7, an android in human likeness. We’ve come from a different universe—”
“I know where you originate.”
“Are you Holgotha?” I asked.
“Impressive. You know me. Yes. I am indeed him.”
Extinction Wars: 02 - Planet Strike Page 34