Chains of Duty (Survival Wars Book 3)

by Anthony James

  “Where did the shot come from?” he shouted. There was nothing moving in the Lambda crater above, so the only place was the doorway.

  “I’m not detecting movement,” said Ortiz. “The repeater’s in the way and there’s no angle to see in the door.”

  Something thundered into the base of the artillery gun, knocking it a few centimetres towards Duggan. A second strike followed the first and the repeater was again pushed away. Duggan patched into its computer using his helmet to interface. It was down to thirty percent of its ammunition and several damage warnings flashed up. The gun was hit again.

  Without giving it further thought, Duggan instructed the gun to move towards the pyramid door and to fire at maximum rate into the opening. The harsh sound of metal striking metal came again as repeater projectiles tore into the darkness. The gun floated forwards at a fast walking pace, with Duggan keeping behind it. Another damage warning appeared and the gravity engine shut down, causing the machine to drop to the ground. It landed with a heavy thud, sending reverberations through the stone. The gun continued to work and it spewed its missiles into the pyramid. Duggan kept it firing until the ammunition ran out and the muzzle fell silent.

  “Did you get it?” asked Ortiz.

  Duggan didn’t reply at once and waited to see if there’d be any more firing from within. It remained quiet. “I hope so,” he said at last.

  He looked out from the protection of the now-still artillery. The doorway was a couple of hundred metres away and if there was anything inside, they’d get a shot at him if he ventured out. The shuttle was behind and he saw three one-metre holes through its hull. There was no damage to the cockpit and he kept his fingers crossed that the vessel would be able to get them away from here. He’d erred in leaving it so close and it might be something he ended up regretting later.

  “Cover me,” he said.

  He ran sideways away from the repeater, looking to cut out the angle so anyone deep inside the doorway wouldn’t have much chance to fire at him. He heard the fizz of gauss rifles – not those of the enemy, but those of his soldiers as they fired into the doorway. When he was a few metres clear of the gun, he changed course and sprinted directly towards the pyramid, reaching it a little way to the side of the opening. He inched along until he could look within. The spacesuit helmet had a sensor near the top, so he didn’t need to put too much of his head around the corner. The broken door had faded to black and though it emitted enough heat to cause a shimmering in the air, it no longer interfered with the suit’s ability to penetrate the darkness. There was a passage which led further into the pyramid. It opened out into a space after fifty metres or so. The inner walls were as dark and featureless as those outside and it was hard to distinguish edges. There was a mass within – an indistinct shape somewhere beyond the corridor. Nothing moved and there were heat signatures coming from both the door and the unknown object. Duggan turned his visor towards the Corps repeater – there were several large holes in its front surface.

  “Clear?” asked Ortiz.

  “I can’t be certain. There’s something inside that might be a weapon. Hard to tell if it’s working.”

  “The repeater should have taken it out?” She phrased it as a question, clearly unsure herself.

  “Maybe. I wonder why it wasn’t destroyed when we knocked the door down.”

  “Automated defences? It could have moved into place when it detected a breach.”

  “We can’t sit around waiting to see what happens. Move up. One at a time.”

  The first shape broke out from behind the shuttle. It was Ortiz, never one to hide behind others. The repeater was between her and the doorway, but there was a space of a few metres where she’d be visible. She made it to the pyramid without being torn to pieces by high calibre gunfire.

  “Next,” she said. “Move fast and don’t stop.”

  “I want two to stay behind,” said Duggan. “People who can fly that shuttle. Check it works and get it out of here before any more holes appear in it.”

  “Reed, Quinn, that means you,” said Ortiz.

  Soon, nineteen of them were lined up to the right of the four-metre doorway. There hadn’t been any further shots from within and Duggan was sure the weapon inside the pyramid had been destroyed. He wasn’t quite sure enough that he’d run headlong towards the wreckage, nor send one of his squad to do the job for him.

  “Damn, there’s wasn’t much left of Sergeant Washington,” said Alvarez.

  “There isn’t time to think about him yet,” said Duggan. He waved Carpenter over and the soldier came closer, still carrying his shoulder-fired plasma launcher.

  “Are you a good shot with that thing?” asked Duggan.

  “Pretty good, sir. What’s the target?”

  “There’s something in there, it’s giving off heat. I think it’s a movable gauss turret. I’d like you to hit it again.”

  Carpenter carefully leaned out. “That thing back there?”

  “If you’re looking at the shape about eighty or ninety metres away, then that’s what I want you to hit.”

  “You got it, sir,” he said. Carpenter lifted up the launcher tube. It was heavy and he grunted with effort. He took four paces backwards, still remaining out of sight. The tube emitted three quiet beeps and its coils whined. Carpenter leapt into the doorway and something whooshed from the launcher. There was a whump inside the pyramid and the walls of the corridor were briefly lit in bright light. Carpenter jumped back even before the plasma light had started to fade. “Direct hit,” he said.

  Duggan had a look. The plasma light had gone, leaving a strong heat signature at the place it had detonated. There was no way to tell for certain if the weapon in the pyramid was disabled. The shoulder launchers were effective against most things this side of a tank. It was time to act, rather than hide behind endless precautions.

  “I’m going in,” said Duggan.

  He didn’t hesitate and darted around the corner, pushing himself into a fast run along the passageway. His breathing sounded loud in his ears and he gritted his teeth. As he ran, he noticed furrows in the walls, which hadn’t been obvious from outside. The repeater slugs had scarred everything. The broken door covered most of the corridor’s width and he jumped over it. I’m still not dead.

  The object became clearer – it was a mangled lump of metal, with bits half-ripped away. Duggan saw what it was – a smaller version of the coil guns the Dreamers had left positioned around the perimeter of the energy shield. There was no way to tell if this was a fixed emplacement or if it had moved itself into place as part of an automatic self-defence system. Or been moved here by our enemies.

  It didn’t take long to reach the end of the corridor. The gun didn’t fire and Duggan was pleased to find he was still alive. As he’d guessed, there was a room at the end and he crouched near to a wall and looked inside, using his helmet to detect anything potentially hostile. The chamber was a good fifteen metres square and had corridors leading away from the other three walls. Duggan’s breathing settled from his sprint and the flood of adrenaline his body had produced. He noticed the humming he’d felt the first time he touched the pyramid, leaving him surer than ever that this was just a power source, left behind to make Trasgor inhabitable for its makers. Knowing it didn’t explain why the Ghasts would have such an interest.

  Duggan took a gamble and crossed the room, keeping low. His rifle was in his hand and he aimed it ahead. He skirted around the ruin of the Dreamer gauss gun, dimly aware of the heat it continued to emit. He reached the opposite passage and pressed himself to the wall on one side. The corridor went on, deeper into the artefact. The humming was infinitesimally louder and there was more sign of repeater damage to the walls. The pyramid was only fifteen hundred metres across – the projectiles could easily have covered the distance if the passage went all the way to the other side. There might be another door there, he guessed.

  “Lieutenant Ortiz, bring the squad in,” he said. “We’re going
to have a look.”

  There was no response. He frowned and checked the comms were functioning. There was no problem with the hardware. “Too much metal,” he muttered to himself. “Blocking the comms.”

  He hurried towards the entrance. A few metres from the doorway, his earpiece came to life again.

  “Do you copy?” said Ortiz.

  “I do now, Lieutenant,” he said. “This place is too dense for our signals to penetrate. It’ll add to the danger, but we’re going to search it.”

  “How many squads?”

  “Three – a six, a six and a seven.”

  The troops were quickly divided. Duggan was in a group of six, with Alvarez, Cook, Hunter, Smith and Corporal Wong who’d come down with the shuttle.

  “We go in for exactly one hour and then we come out,” said Duggan. “Is that clear?”

  “I’m not sure I want to be in there any longer,” said Torres. “Not if I have to carry this repeater everywhere with me.”

  “You’ll be pleased you have it when the bullets come flying,” said Ortiz. “Now let’s move out!”

  They went in one squad at a time, leaving a ten second gap between each. Duggan’s squad was first and he chose the straight-ahead route, which took them directly towards the centre of the pyramid.

  “The middle’s got to be the most dangerous,” whispered Smith without any particular sign of worry.

  “The most exciting,” said Hunter. “That’s where they’ll keep all their alien women.”

  “You’re stupid,” said Smith.

  “Quiet!” Duggan ordered. It wasn’t the time for banter and he wanted them focused on the task in hand.

  The sound of footsteps told him the other squads were on their way through the two side exits. Duggan got his feet moving and advanced along the corridor at a measured pace, hearing the others fall in behind. The side walls sloped inwards, so he couldn’t keep as close to them as he preferred. It left him feeling exposed, even though the safety offered by the wall was ephemeral at best. After sixty metres, they reached another room. This one was empty and with no sign of defensive emplacements. Duggan had been worried the place might be riddled with them and his soldiers only had rifles and grenades. They were in no way prepared to face heavy armour or high-calibre guns.

  The comms to the other squads were dead, leaving the six of them alone in the depths of the unknown. Duggan checked his timer and was shocked to find seven minutes had elapsed. It felt as if only seconds had gone by. With a deep breath, he and his squad pressed on deeper into the pyramid.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THEY CROSSED over two more rooms, each with the same number of exits as the one before. These places were empty and there was no apparent need for them to exist. It could have been a result of the method used to create the pyramid, Duggan supposed. It didn’t seem likely. The trouble was, he was a man who liked to think there was a reason for everything. When the reason wasn’t apparent, his mind would search endlessly for an answer.

  After the fourth room, they entered another passage. There was still the occasional sign of repeater fire on the walls. Here and there they came across flattened discs of metal, where the projectiles had ricocheted away from the sides and come to a rest on the floor. Duggan turned one over with his foot – it was heavy yet made little sound when he flipped it.

  The corridor opened out into a vast space that filled the centre of the pyramid. The ceiling was lost somewhere in a darkness their suit helmets struggled to make sense of. The walls to the sides were visible, about four hundred metres away. These walls sloped up until they, too were gone from sight. In the centre of the space was a pillar. It wasn’t a pillar in the conventional sense – this was a vast, cylindrical monolith of stone which glittered faintly without any light source to reflect. Duggan estimated the diameter of the object to be five hundred metres and it blocked his view of the chamber’s far walls. He couldn’t guess at the height – certainly it went beyond the extents of what he could see.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Smith.

  Duggan shook his head. “I don’t know. A power source, perhaps. There are no detectable emissions.”

  “My suit’s picking up light over there, sir,” said Wong. “Not a lot, though.”

  Duggan pointed his visor towards the left of the room. The pillar blocked his line of sight, but there was the faintest increase in light on the floor and walls. It was easy to miss if you were concentrating on something else. He tried to figure out their position in relation to the exterior damage the pyramid had suffered.

  “We landed two Lambdas on this place before the third one shut it down. The last missile must have damaged this pillar.”

  “It’s big,” said Hunter doubtfully.

  “Could be delicate,” said Alvarez. “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s metal.”

  “Let’s check it out,” said Duggan, setting off across the floor. “Keep your lights off for now and stay alert.”

  The metal underfoot was dense and thick. It seemed to absorb the sound of their footsteps as they walked over it. Neither was there any perceptible echo from the subdued noise of their passage. The effect was one of walking in a tight, enclosed space, rather than in a huge chamber. The sensation wasn’t altogether a pleasant one. Duggan looked about, jerking his head in all directions in case there were any more automated defences left here by the enemy. He considered turning on his light and rejected it. The helmet torch would interfere with the sensor’s image intensifiers, without being powerful enough to illuminate the walls or ceiling.

  He reached the pillar – huge chunks had been ripped from it and they were scattered on the floor everywhere around, along with spent repeater slugs. It looked as if it had taken thousands of hits, making a hole many metres across and deep. Duggan craned his neck and he could make out shapes high above, with no way to discern exactly what they were. The material in front of him was utterly black when viewed from straight on, yet it twinkled with a hint of the metallic when seen from an angle. Stepping forward, he pressed his hand against the column. His suit helmet provided him with an urgent warning and he pulled his hand away.

  “It’s cold,” he said. “Very cold. Yet there’s no chill emanating from its surface.”

  “It reminds me of obsidian,” said Cook. “That stuff you get around volcanoes.”

  “Yeah,” said Smith. “With a sprinkling of metal in it.”

  Duggan had no idea what it was made of, though it did look exactly like obsidian with a metallic sheen. “We should try and take a piece of it for testing,” he said.

  “Want me to pick some of it up, sir?” asked Hunter.

  “Not yet, soldier. If it got hit by a Lambda, there might be other pieces on the floor further around.”

  “The repeater really smashed it up,” said Alvarez.

  Duggan moved on, walking close to the pillar while taking care not to touch it again. The suits were particularly well-insulated against cold, but there was no point in taking unnecessary chances. He checked his timer. Twenty minutes. Time was running out and he didn’t want to leave here without learning more. It was an option to come back later, though one he hoped he wouldn’t need to exercise.

  The light increased, a miserly quantity coming in through a gap overhead. “There’s a hole in the ceiling, right near to the pillar,” he said.

  “With pieces on the ground,” said Wong.

  More black shapes covered the floor, most of them small. Duggan stooped over one – it was fist-sized and shaped like a dagger with an edge that could have sliced easily through his suit. He remembered hearing that obsidian was brittle, yet its edges could be sharper than any metal.

  “Careful what you pick up,” he warned. He walked a few paces on, to see if there was anything suitable for him to collect. There was plenty of choice and he tentatively touched one with a fingertip. “It’s broken away, yet it’s just as cold as the main cylinder,” he said.

  Hunter and Smith walked further along,
looking curiously around them.

  “Some big pieces here, sir,” said Smith. “This one must weigh a hundred tonnes.”

  “I’ve found something,” said Hunter.

  There was a note to the man’s voice which made Duggan take notice. “What is it?” he asked.

  “I think it’s a ladder, sir.”

  Hunter was twenty metres further around the pillar, walking and looking up at the same time. Duggan jogged towards him. “Hold up,” he said.

  The soldier stopped walking and raised an arm to point. There was a series of rungs protruding from the side of the pillar. They appeared to be made from the same near-black metal as the pyramid’s walls, widely spaced and climbing into the dark. When Duggan looked closely, he saw there were sockets to either side of the rungs, like there’d once been a safety cage fitted around the ladder. There was no sign of it any longer. The ladder was almost indistinguishable from the pillar and it was a wonder Hunter had spotted it. He touched the third rung and his suit informed him it wasn’t any colder than the surrounding air. A part of Duggan wished Hunter’s eyes hadn’t been so sharp, since he knew what he was going to have to do.

  “I’m going up,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t we look for some stairs?” asked Wong.

  “If I find some stairs when I’m at the top, I’ll be sure to come down that way,” said Duggan. He had no relish for the climb, yet was reluctant to go looking for a stairwell or a lift he might be unable to operate. “I don’t want to us run into another gauss emplacement either.”

  “Can you make it to the top and back down in time, sir?” asked Hunter.

  “Probably not – unless there’s a quicker way down that doesn’t involve me falling. We need a sample of this pillar. If I’m not back when the sixty minutes are up, I want you to do whatever it takes to return one of these chunks to Lieutenant Ortiz and let her know where it came from. Wait here for as long as you can.”

  With a deep breath, Duggan stretched out a hand to the highest rung he could reach and put his foot on the lowest. He pulled himself up to the next rung, discovering the wide placement made it difficult to climb without putting extra strain on his arms and shoulders. In addition, it was hard to avoid brushing against the pillar itself. A whispering internal voice told him he was being stupid and he agreed with it. The part of him that was a stubborn bastard took control of his limbs and made him press on.