Retribution (The Long Haul Book 2)

by Geoff North

  August sat on the top steps leading into their home and stretched out his thick legs. “Easy now, kid. It was you that led me down into the tunnels. It was you that tried killing me. A man’s entitled to defend himself, even against the children of a terrorist.”

  The children slowly started to settle down. Either they had burned through the last of their energy reserves in the cold and thinning atmosphere, or they realized it was hopeless to keep fighting a losing battle. Finally, they gave up altogether and sat in the dirt, allowing their mother to tighten the breathing masks tightly to their faces. Tarrace called over her shoulder. “They need food and water. Can I at least get them a warmer change of clothes?”

  “We got all the food, drink, and warmth they’ll need on the shuttle.” He stood back up with a grunt, and instructed Green and Ducette to load them into the small ship. Loke and Charm were pulled up forcibly and carried inside. Hegstad pushed Tarrace up behind them.

  She grabbed at the railing halfway up and stopped. “You’ve got me, Hegstad, isn’t that enough? You gave your word no harm would come to my children.”

  “They’ll be taken care of.” He leered at her. “And so will you. Now take a good last look outside. It’s time to say goodbye to the red planet.”

  The shuttle began to lift less than a minute later. Lucky the cat took refuge behind a pile of trash as the dust blasted all around. His back arched up, and his tail puffed out as the ship streaked off away into the cloudless sky.

  Chapter 38

  “They’re mounting a resistance,” Simmons called out. “Ten fighter-class vessels approaching.”

  “Put them on the screen,” Edmund ordered.

  They appeared against the backdrop of space like curving silver blades, slicing towards Retribution. The last time Rastaban Drac had seen one was when he’d been piloting the Ambition fighter, Nail. That encounter hadn’t gone very well. “Definitely Hunn ships,” he confirmed to the others gathered on the bridge. “They’re fast, and evasive as hell. If they’re anything like the ones we fought on our scouting mission into the Pegan system, expect them to drop out of sight just before they attack.”

  Seconds later, true to Drac’s word, the fighters vanished off the screen.

  “Light-cloaking technology,” SIC Barret said. “We developed our own more than a hundred years ago. It wasn’t incorporated into many ROSP ships for long—costs more than it’s worth, and drains too much energy.”

  Vin Vir wasn’t all that impressed with the SIC’s laid back opinion. “Those ships may be small, but you won’t see them attack until it’s too late.”

  “Yeah, we will,” Barret replied with a chuckle.

  “Ada,” Commander Edmund called out. “Display the Hunn fighters’ passage wakes. Lock onto the disruption points and destroy.”

  Ten green lines appeared on the screen. “Space isn’t truly empty,” Barret explained. “There are particles of matter dispersed throughout it, not much, but enough for our sensors to detect their movement when something pushes through.”

  Ten ripper missiles launched from Retribution a moment later. Seconds after that, the ten Hunn fighters were destroyed.

  “Passage wake tracking capabilities,” Vin said. Now she was impressed.

  They travelled on for a few more minutes towards the Alderamin home world without meeting anymore resistance. “Something isn’t right about this,” Barret said. “Are ten fighters all they had? What kind of planetary defence system is that?”

  Alderamin 4 had begun to swell on the forward screens. “Less than a million K to go,” Mara said from the helm section. “Decelerating for orbital approach.”

  “Bring us to a full stop here,” Edmund instructed. “There won’t be anything left to orbit in a minute. Ada, prepare a monarch for immediate launch into the core of that planet.”

  “Monarch loaded, Commander.”

  Edmund looked into the eyes of each man and woman seated at the tactics table. He settled on his father-in-law’s last. “Eleven years... Our long mission is about to come to an end.”

  “A mission I didn’t believe we’d ever return from,” the SIC replied. “Now I’m starting to think otherwise. Launch the missile, Commander, and then let’s go home.”

  Edmund stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “Shields to maximum, Ada. Fire the monarch.”

  They waited for Ada to confirm launch. The computer remained silent.

  “Ada, fire the weapon off.”

  “I’m unable to comply, Commander. My systems have been compromised. Something is attempting to override my main al—”

  Retribution’s full-integration assistance computer made a crackling noise and then went dead.

  Barret struck the table with his fist. “Goddamn it! I knew it was too easy getting in this close. They’ve hit us with some kind of virus, knocked us out without firing a single shot.”

  Weldheim was at the weapons console, trying to figure out how bad the damage was. “The computer may be compromised, but we still have manual control of the ship. Missile targeting and launch capabilities are available. We can destroy the planet without Ada’s assistance.”

  Ada’s soft voice sounded over the bridge again. “I would recommend against it.”

  “Ada?” The commander looked around the bridge. “How badly were your systems affected?”

  “Your computer is undamaged, Alexander Edmund. I am speaking through it to you and your people.”

  “Who… is this?”

  “It’s the Hunn, Commander,” Drac said. “They spoke to my predecessor, Captain Sulafat, the same way—by taking over the electronic circuits in Nash’s mind.”

  “Look at your imaging screen, Alexander, and behold your adversary.”

  Everyone looked forward. The view of Alderamin 4 revolving slowly in space vanished. A creature half-shrouded in yellow smoke took its place. There were smaller beings piled around its giant legs—all dead from the looks of things.

  Barret stood closely to Edmund and whispered. “It’s a Hunn Prime, Alex. I’d received intelligence before we left Earth that one of those things might already have made its way to the Sol system.”

  “You’ll have to whisper much softer than that, Corwin,” the Hunn Prime said through the bridge speakers. “Your computer’s audio detection is very acute.”

  Edmund turned to the weapons section. “Why are we still listening to this thing? Weldheim, if you have manual control, fire the damned missile.”

  “Monarch launched, Commander. Everyone prepare for planetary breakup shockwave.”

  The shockwave never came.

  “Get that abomination off the screen!” Barret yelled. “Show us the planet.”

  Alderamin 4 reappeared. The atmosphere was still glowing green over its ice-covered continents.

  “I-I don’t understand,” Weldheim stammered. “The missile launched. That planet should be blowing apart from its core.”

  The Prime Hunn was no longer on the screen, but it could still be heard over the bridge. “The missile was destroyed halfway through our planetary shielding. Your weapons are remarkably powerful, but they’re not a match against our defences.”

  Edmund sank back down onto his stool and muted the computer’s voice on his control key pad. Barret leaned against the table and rested his forehead into his hands. “Eleven years,” the SIC mumbled. “Eleven years wasted, Commander. We’ve failed. That planet can’t be destroyed.”

  Edmund raised an eyebrow thoughtfully at his second in command.

  Vin offered an optimistic alternative. “At least we can all head home. We have two ships, and the rift to take us halfway back.”

  Drac agreed with her. “This isn’t over. We can fight the Hunn from Earth—build a coalition that’ll bring all the Sol planets together.”

  “You’ll have to do it without Retribution and her crew,” Barret said. “The only place we’re headed to back home is prison.”

  Edmund shook his head. “Maybe not, Corwin. Perhaps this
isn’t over quite yet.”

  Barret lowered his hands and looked at him. “Why the hell are you smiling?”

  Chapter 39

  An hour earlier

  Lennix pushed Zosma Lion and their hostage down the darkened corridor towards the travel tube. “We’ll have to continue our takeover from different sections of the ship.”

  Lion shoved the now fully conscious Gertsen into the transport cabin, and forced him to sit on one of the benches. “We should stay together,” Lion protested. “Strength in numbers—isn’t that the old expression?”

  “Against any other opponent, I might agree, but not Three. That machine is a hundred times more powerful than the two of us combined. It thinks faster, moves faster, and it’s virtually indestructible.”

  “And you think he’s after us now?” Lion sat in the bench opposite Gertsen. “You think he’s left the bridge?”

  “It’s highly likely. He’s cut off communication. We’ve lost our one major advantage; Three still doesn’t know where we are, but we no longer where he is, either.”

  Gertsen finally broke his silence. “You’ll never get away this. Even if you manage to get past Nash, Commander Edmund will never allow you to board his ship.”

  “A few hours ago, I would’ve agreed with you.” Lennix looked both ways down the corridor. “But then again, a few hours ago, I was frozen solid. I have you to thank for bringing me this far, Lieutenant. There’ll be a position for you still on Retribution when this is over. Or perhaps you would like to serve on Ambition? I know you love your history.”

  “What I like is irrelevant. What I deserve is to be court-martialled.” He hung his head down and stared at the cabin floor.

  The Admiral turned his attention to Lion. “There’s an armory three levels above, section forty-two. At least it was an armory when I first commanded this vessel.”

  “It’s still there, but I wouldn’t count on finding any heavy weapons to use against the robot.” He indicated the side cannon in his hand. “It’s all small arms like this. Anything bigger was probably loaded over to Retribution.”

  “I don’t expect you to get into a shooting match with him, but it’s well fortified. Keep quiet, keep an eye on the lieutenant.” The Admiral started off down the corridor.

  Lion leapt up from the bench and called after him. “Wait! Shouldn’t you be the one to look after Gertsen? You’re the warrior, not me! Hey, hold on! You never told me where you’re going to be!”

  Lennix hurried off into the dark without answering. He turned down another corridor to his left and ran deeper into the science sections of the ship, putting as much distance possible between him and the departing travel tube. Three would detect the tube’s activation, and move quickly. The bridge would be empty.

  Ma Ades stepped out from the shadows where the corridors joined. She hadn’t heard everything the men had said, but she’d caught enough to know where Zosma Lion was taking their hostage. If the admiral hadn’t been stupid enough to announce his presence to Nash throughout the entire ship, Ma never would’ve known they were still onboard. But the admiral had been stupid enough, and she knew the cryonics facility where he’d spent the better part of the last seven hundred years was the best place to start looking for him.

  What am I going to do now? She shifted the side cannon nervously from one hand into the other. Save the hostage first, she decided. Zosma Lion she could handle. Nash could take care of Neil Lennix and the ship. Ma sighed as she jogged towards the travel tube alcove.

  “How many times does a simple bartender have to save this ship from mad men?”

  Nash didn’t budge an inch out of the captain’s chair when the travel tube movement was detected. It was an excellent bit of subterfuge, but the robot hadn’t been manufactured yesterday. The admiral had obviously overlooked the fact that travel tube and elevator lifts were constantly monitored not only for movement, but for present passenger occupation as well.

  Two people were travelling inside the tube on level eighty-seven, not three. Lennix would be anticipating him to leave the bridge. Nash remained seated and waited patiently.

  The communication console beeped behind him eight minutes later. A call on a secured line. “Admiral Lennix, is that you?”

  “Not… Lennix,” a female voice gasped.

  “Ma Ades?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I’m on level eighty-seven, section forty-two… Oh, God… Nash, I just killed Zosma Lion.”

  “Is Lieutenant Bennoit Gertsen with you? Has he been injured?”

  “Bennoit’s his name? He’s okay… a little shaken up. What have I done, Nash? The last time I had a run in with Lion, I knocked him between the eyes with the butt end of a gun… this time… this time I blew his head right off.”

  “Take a deep breath and compose yourself,” Nash said. “Listen carefully to the following instructions. You’re not going to like them, but you must follow through. Do you understand, Ma?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Travel down to level eighty-eight. Get to the cryonics facility, and remove Chort Leo from his canister.”

  “You do want me to thaw him out first, right?”

  “There won’t be time for that. Remove his body, and enter the emptied canister. Lieutenant Gertsen will occupy the admiral’s.”

  “You’re right. I don’t like this.”

  Nash ignored Ma’s protest, and told her what would happen next.

  Lennix was one level beneath the bridge. He had begun to pace back and forth, keeping a constant watch on the elevator console pad, waiting for it to turn red, indicating cabin occupancy. What was taking Three so long? This was the lift he’d have to travel on first to get to level eighty-seven in the shortest amount of time. The admiral was positive he’d made it here before the travel tube would’ve arrived at its destination. Surely the robot had waited long enough to see where it had ended up before leaving the bridge.

  This was taking far too long. What if something else had gone wrong? Could Gertsen have overpowered Lion? Perhaps the young lieutenant had convinced Lion to give himself up. A dozen other worst-case scenarios played out in Lennix’s mind as he continued to pace.

  He should’ve had them revive Major West as well. His second in command could’ve kept an eye both men while he took control of the bridge. That would be his next action once he’d taken his ship back.

  Nash’s voice called to him from the elevator console. “Admiral Lennix. Please tell me where you are.”

  “I’m on the propulsion decks. I’m in the main mess hall. I’m taking a crap in a washroom somewhere on level seventy-three. Where are you, Three? Still cooped up on the bridge?”

  “Zosma Lion is dead. Lieutenant Gertsen is safe. It’s over, Admiral. Give yourself up.”

  “I can’t give up what’s rightfully mine. Ambition is my ship.”

  “This is your last chance. Surrender immediately, or die.”

  “Go to hell.” Three wasn’t lying this time, Lennix knew. He pounded at the elevator console, preparing to ride up to his bridge one last time, and face the robot head on. The lift door remained closed. He staggered back from it, and fell into the corridor wall behind him.

  The air was getting hard to breathe. The admiral’s vision started to blur. He slid down along the wall, gasping for a full breath all the way to the floor. “What… have you… done?”

  “I’ve over-ridden the emergency environmental controls. Every level and section throughout the ship is having its atmosphere purged. In another minute, Ambition’s interior will be as cold and empty as the vacuum of space outside her hull.”

  “Fu… fuggin… machine.”

  “It’s regrettable, Admiral, but I’m freezing you a third and final time.”

  Chapter 40

  The prisoner transport cabin had been breached by the creatures two hours earlier. Sulafat, Emin, and the rapidly deteriorating Canis were crammed into the last section of the ship still providing safety from the elements outside, and the creat
ures continually crashing against the cockpit door.

  The captain had cauterized the area beneath Canis’s knee where the rest of his leg had been torn away. He’d used a plasma rifle to do it. The big squadron boss had bitten down on the sleeve of his environment suit and screamed throughout the entire, grisly process.

  He was resting now in the co-pilot’s seat, drifting in and out of consciousness. The smashing and pounding on the other side of the cockpit door continued relentlessly.

  Tor Emin was hunched over the ship’s controls, pressing buttons and turning dials. Strange symbols displayed on the screens, providing information in a language neither of them could understand.

  “You’re wasting what little energy’s left in the ship,” Sulafat complained. “We should be trying to conserve power to keep us breathing.”

  Emin continued with his seemingly pointless task. “I’ve discovered something.”

  Sulafat stared at the indecipherable readouts on the screens. “How to read Pegan?”

  “No, but I think I can recognize it when I see it.”

  The captain leaned forward, mindful not to put any weight on Canis’s injured leg extending straight out between the seats. “What do you mean?”

  “This is Pegan. I’ve seen some of these symbols on other parts of the ship.” He tapped on the largest screen with his finger. “This here, the one that looks like a quarter moon crescent—I saw it on the weapons storage cabinets in the back. And this one, the little square with a black triangle in the center—I’ve seen it before, too.”

  Sulafat was nodding. “They seem familiar to me as well. I think you’re onto to something here.”

  “That’s not everything.” Emin adjusted a dial, and the readout changed. The geometric shapes became a series of squiggles and wave formations. “I’m pretty sure this is the same message, but in another language.”

  “There are billions of Pegans, it would be logical to assume there are multiple languages spread throughout the different cultures.”