He straightened his course, but another explosive round was already zooming directly toward the viewport of his mech. He fired wildly to try to take it out, but he had no idea how to use the precision aiming procedures. As he did, bright light filled the cockpit and a portion of the hangar wall violently split open.
Dozens of Tribunals were sucked out along with the round before it could strike him. Talon and his mech followed promptly behind. For a moment, the pressure of acceleration pulled Talon tight against his seat, so intense that he could hear Elisha squealing. Then it subsided, and they drifted through space.
“I bet even the android never would’ve thought of this!” Tarsis hollered over the clamor of gunfire. “Flying a mech out. Take that, you bastards!”
Talon released the mech’s controls. The view on the HUD was fuzzy, so he craned over it and peered out the narrow viewport. What he saw sucked the air straight out of his lungs. Only one ally was left hanging onto to his mech, and it wasn’t Tarsis or either of the Ceresian survivors. It was Sage, staring back at him with her arresting green eyes. A moment later, she moved to somewhere else on the mech.
“Tarsis, where are you?” Talon asked, confused.
“Enjoying my last day of existence,” he huffed. “Don’t blame the girl. This was my choice.” A scream accompanied the racket of his mech firing every bit of ordnance in its arsenal.
Talon’s heart began to race as he realized why Tarsis had given him the comm-link.
“Tarsis, get out of there, now!” Talon yelled. “That’s an order. Get out of there!”
“No can do, my friend. They’ve already depressurized the hangar, and it’s a long run on my own.”
“Tarsis, I won’t lose you too!”
“This is the second ship I’ve gotten you off of.” Tarsis laughed heartily. “When we meet again, wherever the dead go, you owe me one.”
Talon could hardly speak. He had to steady his breathing.
“Tarsis… please…”
“You take care of her now. Don’t let this all be for nothing.” He paused as the shooting on his end grew even louder. “Alright, you Tribunal bastards! Come and—”
His comm-link cut out.
Tears welled in Talon’s eyes as he stared out into space. He sank his head into Elisha’s hair and wrapped his arms around her as best he could in the tight confines just for a sense of normalcy and comfort.
It won’t be for nothing.
With one free arm he reactivated Larana’s comm-link. “Lar…” he attempted to say, but his throat was dry from emotion. He cleared it. There would be time to mourn later, but for the moment he had to focus. “Larana, do you see us?”
“We got a location and are on our way,” Larana answered promptly. “There’s another ship headin’ to your location ahead of us though. Too fast for us to line up a shot.”
Talon sat back, wiped his eyes, and scanned the view on the mech’s HUD. A body in Tribunal armor flew by. Behind it, two ion-drive trails raced toward his position, one faster than the other. Judging by how much the ship they belonged to glistened, he knew that it had to be Cassius.
He grabbed the mech’s arm controls and swung both of them so that the momentum spun the thing around and its cockpit faced directly toward the approaching ship. There were missile launchers attached to the mech’s shoulders, but those left too much opportunity for failure.
Talon searched the confines of the cockpit for something that might activate the rail gun running up the mech’s spine. As he did, he noticed that he was able to twist the arm controls laterally. When he did, a bar of light along the bottom of the HUD began to fill up. The cockpit vibrated.
He couldn’t see where he was aiming. It was a literal shot in the dark, but whether or not he landed a direct hit, the White Hand would have to divert its course in order to avoid it.
“Hold on, Elisha!” he shouted.
A blinding white bolt speared across space. The recoil from the weapon flung the mech backwards so fast that Sage apparently lost her grip on it.
She tumbled through space with nothing to grab on to, and Talon watched her. He could easily leave her to suffocate or be captured. It was the least she deserved for what she did to Vellish.
Or he could save her. He could do what one of her people never would. Help the other side.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Talon grumbled to himself.
He reached out with the mech’s tremendous right hand and hauled Sage in. Right as he did, the cockpit jolted to the side. The rusty walls of the Monarch’s cargo bay closed in around him, and the mech slammed against the back wall of the room. G-forces from a rapid change in acceleration kept him and Elisha pinned safely to the seat. He released a mouthful of air and set the cockpit to open.
“Talon, you okay?” Larana shouted. The Vergent captain was tethered to the wall of the cargo bay. She sprinted out and grabbed Sage, who was unconscious and gradually sliding out of the mech’s open palm.
“We’re good…” Talon panted.
The Monarch shuddered, a missile from a Tribunal fighter just missing. Getting onto the ship was the easy part; now they would have to escape.
The Monarch was fast, and Kitt seemed to be an excellent pilot, but because of Talon they’d just dove headfirst into the heart of the Tribunal fleet. Even if Benjar’s forces were in disarray and weren’t sure who to chase, the Monarch’s cargo bay was the most dangerous place in the Circuit.
“Can you get my daughter out of here?” he asked.
“One second!” Larana and another tethered Vergent dragged Sage deeper into the ship to safety; then Larana turned and hopped up the body of the mech. She made it look remarkably easy, arriving outside the cockpit right after another explosion made the Monarch vibrate.
“Give her to me!” She reached in.
Talon tried to hand Elisha over, but she clung tightly to him, too weary to cry.
“You can trust her, Elisha,” Talon promised. “I need to help. Go with her.”
Her grip loosened, and Talon had to look away as he shoved her into Larana’s arms. He might not have wanted to let go, but it was a better option than all of them being blasted into space dust.
“Where’s Tarsis?” Larana questioned.
Talon swallowed. “He took another path. Get her out of here, seal the cargo bay on your end, and open the ramp. We need extra firepower, and I’m going to give it to us.”
“Open the ramp?”
“Just do it! Tell Kitt to set a course for Ceres Prime, and I’ll explain everything when we’re clear.”
Larana nodded reluctantly before hurrying down the mech with Elisha. Talon and his daughter didn’t break eye contact until they were gone.
With the cargo bay emptied out, Talon listened for the low whistle of the room beginning to depressurize. He set the cockpit of the mech to close, and pushed off with its arms to return to an upright position. The top of the gargantuan machine scraped across the ceiling as he walked it toward the opening ramp.
The Ascendant grew smaller in the distance, but three Tribunal fighters were right on their tail. They had a frigate with them, though it couldn’t keep up and its projectiles were all detonating short of the Monarch.
“Alright, Tarsis,” Talon whispered to himself. “Time to live!”
He wasn’t sure how to use all the mech’s weaponry yet, but he positioned himself in the opening and unloaded everything it had. His chain gun tore through the cockpit of the fighter in the center of the formation. It sputtered before bursting into a million glowing fragments. The two others spread formation after that, and Talon struggled to get a lock on them while the Monarch swerved.
He continued firing regardless, and one of his shots struck a missile heading straight at them. It exploded, knocking his mech back and rupturing a portion of the cargo bay ramp. Talon held on tight and hit every new control he could find within the cockpit. A volley of missiles flew from the front of the mech. One fighter was caught in the hail, a
nd the pilot ejected right before his ship was reduced to slag. The last fighter was clipped in the wing by shrapnel, having no choice but to abandon the chase.
The distant Tribunal frigate stayed on course, however, along with a few additional fighters zooming out of its hangar. But with the head start the Monarch had, they’d never catch up. The White Hand was nowhere to be seen either.
They’d done it. They’d raided a New Earth cruiser and gotten out. Elisha was safe.
Talon half-expected to wake from a dream back on Ceres Prime, until he remembered that their victory hadn’t come without the loss of yet another friend.
14
Chapter Fourteen—Adim
ADIM’s vision flickered as his entire being rebooted for the first time since his creator first switched on his cores. One by one, he felt each of his systems return under his control. He could move the head of his main body. He could lift his limbs and then his fingers. All contact with the other androids and with Cassius remained severed, but he was ADIM again.
His time in the darkness could’ve been one second or it could’ve been a century. He wasn’t sure. He’d never been deactivated before, and there was nothing in that state to provide him with any sense of time.
No thoughts. No dreams. Only emptiness.
He used his steadily improving visualization systems to survey the scene. He had to rely on his environment for information since none of his scanners were operating at full capacity yet. The Ascendant’s command console sparked, providing the only light in the entire command deck other than the blooming reddish glow of his own eye-lenses. A host of Tribunal honor guards crawled along the floor, holding their ears. Benjar was amongst them.
They remain incapacitated, ADIM thought. Little time has passed.
Destroying the overloaded command console had had the precise effect ADIM had intended. The damage would surely be enough to slow the ship down and buy Cassius the additional time he desired.
ADIM raised his arm and used the floor to raise his body. His legs were usually more than capable on their own, but they remained slightly out of sync. Once he was standing, he noticed Benjar reaching for a rifle on the ground. ADIM limped over and planted his heavy foot on top of the Tribune’s hand before he could curl his fingers around the grip.
ADIM then grabbed Benjar by the throat and lifted. The Tribune squirmed and wriggled. His mouth moved, but ADIM’s auditory functions remained in flux, and he couldn’t discern what was said.
He raised Benjar until the Tribune stared straight into his eye-lenses. The short man’s feet weren’t even touching the ground. For a moment, ADIM considered how easy it would be to snap his neck, but he knew he couldn’t. His creator had forbidden it.
“Go ahead, abomination,” Benjar snarled as ADIM’s hearing normalized. “Kill me.”
His expression betrayed his words. He appeared completely terrified, like the engineers aboard the Tribunal freighters always did when they looked upon ADIM. He was not ready to die.
“It won’t change a thing.” He snickered. “We’ll destroy the Ceresians no matter what, and your master won’t have anyone under his thumb. No fleet. Nothing to fight us with. You’ll both die and I’ll watch from the loving embrace of the Spirit as Cassius is cursed to linger in the vacuum for all of eternity.”
ADIM drew Benjar’s face as close as possible to his own. “The Creator—” he said before pausing and readjusting the volume of his vocal emitters. “The Creator does not wish for this unit to kill you at this time; however, you will not last the war. You are not worthy. None of your people are.”
He struck the Tribune across the right thigh, then dropped him. Benjar howled louder than any human ADIM had ever heard as a shard of femur shot through his flesh. The Tribune rolled along the floor, a trail of blood in his wake.
ADIM’s gaze then swept across the room, at the disoriented soldiers desperately trying to locate their weapons, at the Tribune in inexplicable pain, through the undamaged segments of the viewport that remained unblocked by the emergency shutters, where Tribunal fighters flitted across the stars.
No fleet, ADIM thought.
Even after he and Cassius proved that the Spirit of the Earth was a fabrication, all those ships and more would remain to oppose them. Tribunal, Ceresian, it didn’t matter. All those who were unworthy and could never see the value of the Creator’s will would fight back.
Humans always fought when they were cornered. That was a behavior ADIM had observed time and time again, and he’d even experienced it personally now, when all seemed lost and Benjar had sprung his trap. If ADIM wanted to keep Cassius safe for their future, he’d have to eliminate every conceivable threat.
Benjar Vakari was correct.
ADIM sprinted toward one of the unharmed areas of the viewport. He couldn’t pierce the emergency shutter and risk Benjar suffocating. Some of the soldiers had finally located their guns and were pinging bullets off ADIM’s legs. He fired a kinetic missile forward without aiming. A portion of the viewport shattered, and he dove through just before more emergency shutters slammed behind him.
ADIM’s magnetized body allowed him to be quickly pulled back against the Ascendant’s hull. He again crawled across it now, back toward where he’d originally breached the ship. Space swarmed with fighters en route to the other side of Fortuna. He had little doubt they were pursuing the White Hand, and he wished he could again wield control of his Creator’s vessel and ensure he escaped unharmed. His systems remained too shaken, however, to even make contact with him. Still rebooting.
He considered breaking off course to try to help but knew he couldn’t. Since reactivating and speaking with Benjar, he’d developed a plan that would leave every ship of the Tribune irrelevant. He saw the future clearly. His Creator had left him all the tools, and now he was going to guarantee that his will could never be broken. This was why he existed.
The Creator will survive, ADIM deduced. These vessels are no match for the White Hand.
Minutes later, ADIM reached the Shadow Chariot concealed in a rift between armored plating along the Ascendant’s lower hull. He opened the cockpit and slid his weightless body in. Two Tribunal fighters raced by overhead, oblivious to his presence. He couldn’t shoot them down. He needed to gain as much time as possible to reach full velocity.
He hooked himself up to the reactor core of the Shadow Chariot so that it could form a symbiotic bond with him and power on. As soon as it was active, he’d no longer be invisible to scanners. Approaching the Ascendant was easy when they weren’t looking for him and the Shadow Chariot was deactivated, but now every scanner on every Tribunal vessel within a million kilometers would be wary.
Waiting silently until there were no enemy ships in direct sight, ADIM signaled the Shadow Chariot’s engines to roar to life. The ship propelled forward. The rate of acceleration would’ve been enough to cave in a human’s chest, but ADIM’s chassis was able to resist it.
No amount of stealth measures would keep him from being seen at such speeds, but connecting to the Shadow Chariot’s fusion core flooded him with the energy he was desperately lacking. After thirty seconds, he was completely rebooted and operating at full capacity. However, there was also a multitude of Tribunal fighters in pursuit of him.
“Creator,” ADIM said, his connection to Cassius’ comm-link renewed. The White Hand itself, however, remained out of his control. “Can you hear…” He paused. A new word popped into his head. One that he’d heard his creator, a human, refer to himself as countless times before. It didn’t seem a proper term to refer to himself until he’d experienced the very human fear of death.
“Me?” he said.
“ADIM!” Cassius replied immediately. “ADIM, where are you! The White Hand has been hit.”
ADIM’s circuitry went hot, and without hesitating he slowed the Shadow Chariot and prepared to turn around back toward the Ascendant. His own plan could wait. Without Cassius, it was worthless. He’d made a vital miscalculation. The fir
st he ever had.
“Creator, are you injured? I am on my way.”
“I’m fine for now,” Cassius replied. “The engine lines were damaged, and I had to divert all power from every other system to keep them going.”
ADIM quickly realized that was why he wasn’t able to take control of the ship.
“I’m shieldless and without communications,” Cassius continued, “but I was able to outrun my pursuers, and they turned their attention to the Monarch after Sage and the others were taken on board. It appears our Vergent friends had a change of heart and returned. It’s irrelevant to our plans now. Where are you?”
Missile and flak fire sped around the Shadow Chariot. Slowing down to turn had allowed ADIM’s enemies to come within range. Cassius was safe, but now he’d placed his own plan in danger.
He overrode the ship’s programming and set the engines to propel it at speeds faster than it could handle. He quickly scanned the stars and located the celestial body of Mars amongst them. He had to deviate his course slightly to make sure he was heading directly toward it.
“I am within the Shadow Chariot,” ADIM informed his creator.
“What is your positi—” Cassius stopped. ADIM could tell by his tone that he was surprised by something. “What did you just say?”
“I am within the Shadow Chariot,” ADIM repeated.
“Do you realize how you referred to yourself?”
“Yes. Am I incorrect in doing so?”
“I… no. You are as alive as any being ever was, after all, in your own way.”
“There are other units that were constructed to appear like me, but you were correct, they are not me. There are other humans who are physically composed similarly to the Creator, but they can never be you. And so, by default, I must be ADIM.”
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 63