Antagonize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 2)

by Thomas R. Manning

  After a couple of minutes, he answered. “There was a particular day when I toured some of the schools. News broke out that another space battle occurred with heavy losses on both sides. Standard protocol dictated that we go about our business unless called back to the Randout . . . that’s where all the government leaders convene to discuss political necessities on Gaia. I think it was the third or fourth classroom I visited. My job was to educate the students on how our system worked, how they could become involved when they grew up. Anyway, in that one class, three children lost their fathers. The looks on their faces, the shock and depression, it ignited something inside me. If the war could end, then children like that would never have to grow up without their fathers again. I was one man, but together with the other members of the council, we made something special, something that could make a difference.” The passion in his speech diminished as he took stock of our location. “Not that it matters anymore.”

  “Don’t give up just yet,” I said.

  At my words, Smithson’s head lifted. His eyes focused not on mine, but right below them, as if he was ashamed of looking at me.

  “How can you say something like that? What kind of false hope is that? We’ve lost. The fleets are moving against each other and Ambrose has the three of us. If the Belle isn’t already in their hands, then it’s probably been destroyed.”

  “There’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up,” I said. “You lose when you won’t stand up for what you believe in.”

  “And what the hell is it that you believe in?” he asked and then spat. The globule landed inches from my foot. I had no idea where my optimism came from in that moment, except that I knew we couldn’t give up. Despite what we lost, it could be worse if we allowed Ambrose and Granak to win. I thought about my answer, choosing my words carefully. Getting out of this mess would work a lot easier if all three of us were working together rather than against each other.

  “I believe that as long as you keep your eyes open, an opportunity will present itself.”

  Neither of them responded. We sat in silence for what felt like hours when the hull trembled.

  “We’re entering an atmosphere,” I said. On the Belle I could describe in detail what each sound and vibration meant. This ship wasn’t her, but it felt so similar that it made me teary at the thought that she might have been destroyed.

  No, I couldn’t believe that. Because if she was destroyed, that meant Autumn and Tress were dead, as well as the rest of the council. Instead of allowing my mind to dwell on it, I closed my eyes and tried to work through the situation. When faced with a dire situation, what’s the one thing that can save you? What can make the difference between life or death?

  My first thought was choice. Our lives are dictated by the choices we make, but right now, we didn’t really have a choice about where we were going or what would happen. So what’s more basic than a choice?

  Details. Sometimes the smallest detail can cause change and leave you open to make that choice. So what details did I know already? Tristain had some kind of weapon’s facility where Ambrose prepared to destroy the Terran and Gaian star fleets. The planet was outfitted with a defense grid, which would prevent any ship from entering the atmosphere unless it had a code clearance.

  Somehow, we had to deactivate the grid. That would allow the star fleets to advance on Tristain. But I had to contact them first, somehow.

  What else did I know? Granak was hired by Ambrose to kill Damon Derringer and be a huge thorn in my side, but Granak had his own loathing for the human race, made apparent by the three soldiers he killed during our encounters. If he didn’t care for humans, was there a reason for it and, if so, could I use that to my advantage?

  The defense grid. The weapons. Granak and Ambrose. Within these thoughts was an answer somewhere. I just had to pay close attention to everything that happened next. My chances of survival were still slim, but something Granak said stuck with me—I wanted to die with honor, defending my beliefs.

  The ship jostled us and then settled, and I knew we had landed. On the other side of the door, steel grinded against steel and the door opened. Three soldiers stood in front of us with their rifles aimed at our heads. Apprehension exploded throughout my body, the kind that feared to die, the kind that feared to fight to the last breath.

  “Move it,” the lead man said. One by one, we filed out of the room. Wires and jagged edges of steel protruded from the ceiling and walls of the corridor. I stepped over a couple of sharp brackets on the floor. Whoever designed this ship used no consideration in how they put her together.

  When I stepped onto the ground of Tress’s home planet, I noticed three things—the sky was green; the air felt similar to human planets, except for a light, sweet taste as it passed into your lungs; and how massive the weapons facility was.

  The intimidating structure of shimmering metal was big enough to fit ten Kestrel-class star cruisers. Far down the roof, some type of telescope pointed into the sky. Four soldiers guarded the two giant doors that made up the front entrance.

  “Stars above,” I whispered and Trent and Smithson similarly cursed.

  Guns poked us in our backs and we walked. As we neared the building, I saw the guards’ uniforms in detail. Navy blue pants and jackets with dark red stripes on the shoulders. Each arm carried the Infinity symbol.

  Everything I learned about this group seemed to confirm they were the antithesis of the Earth Star Alliance. The ESA was built and designed to explore space and make contact with alien races. They were a peacekeeping group, but Infinity seemed bent on control by any means necessary. Humans were the dominant species in the universe, even if they had to act against others to ensure it.

  A mix of weapon crates, computer terminals, and staging areas—where holographic diagrams were drawn—filled the warehouse’s interior. I saw starship drawings and space stations, enough designs to outfit this solar system with an Infinity fleet. A giant screen separated into three separate video feeds on the right wall. One showed camera angles of the warehouse itself, another was blank, and the third was a tactical layout of the space between Terra and Gaia. Hundreds of red blips on each side moved toward each other—the planets’ fleets advancing to war. In a little less than an hour—judging by a clock that ticked down time—the fleets would reach firing range.

  Ambrose led us to the middle of the facility while Granak kept to our backs. I focused on him over my shoulder, expecting him to stare at me. After beating him at his own game, I thought he’d be fueled with anger to attack me, but instead he gazed at Ambrose.

  There’s something there . . . something more to this story. Not only did Granak loathe humans, but in comparison, King and her Infinity group hated anything that wasn’t human. So why did they hire Granak and not a human mercenary, like me? Unless they didn’t. What if Granak offered his services to them, all the while holding his own agenda secret?

  “What do you think, Mr. Quinn?” Ambrose’s voice echoed and jolted me from my thoughts.

  He stood in front of the telescope. Here, it stood on a round platform separated from the rest of the room. I peered over the edge and saw nothing but vents and grids covering the walls of a pit. A computer console connected to the base of the telescope on the platform, and when my bionic eye scanned the screen, I had a terrible realization.

  It wasn’t a telescope at all.

  “This is the pride of Infinity, Mr. Quinn. The Infinity Cannon.” Ambrose smiled and spread his arms wide. “And we have you to thank for it!”

  “Me?”

  “I remember you from that miserable planet with the golden lake of energy, the one that made me what I am today.” He removed his coat and hat and revealed his monstrous parts. Half of his head was covered in metal, as was his entire right arm. “Sarah King hoped to strengthen our faction with the golden empyreus, but you got in our way, hacked into our ship, and sent us back home. She was furious. It took an entire week for her to calm down. But when she did, she
realized that using the empyreus was simply the easy way to do things.

  “When I told her about my world and the brewing war with the Gaians, her eyes lit up, her resolve refocused, and she had a new goal. Two worlds and their resources were all for the taking. All we had to do was help them destroy themselves.”

  “You horrifically murdered three members of the council,” I spat. “Why the flux would you do this? Why destroy your own people?”

  In response, Ambrose pulled the sleeve back on his left arm and revealed an infinity symbol tattoo. “These are my people. Now that you’re all caught up, let’s give you a demonstration. I’m locking coordinates onto an asteroid belt on the other side of the solar system.”

  The other side? My surroundings hazed over as I focused on the cannon and realized the power it contained. If it could travel that far . . . if it could destroy an entire asteroid belt . . .

  “The fleets. You’re going to use the cannon to destroy the fleets.”

  He smiled at me then nodded to two soldiers standing behind us. They jammed the butts of their rifles against Smithson and Trent. They fell into the cannon’s pit.

  “No!” Despite my arms being locked behind my back, I lurched forward and tried to save them. Granak grabbed my neck and lifted me. “No! Granak! Stop!”

  “I care not for pathetic, weak humans,” he growled. Ambrose ambled across the catwalk to reach the cannon’s computer console. In that time, I peered over the side as much as Granak’s grip would let me. Both men were alive. Smithson pushed himself up and Trent grasped at his injured leg, screaming in pain.

  “You may or may not know this,” Ambrose said while typing on the control screen, “but this planet has abundant minerals and metals. I sent a dozen survey teams here to study the planet and determine the prime location to build our facility. All the weapons you see were built using this planet’s resources.”

  I wanted to demand to know how he convinced the Restran government to evacuate its people. But I knew the answer—he forced them, threatened them. Leave or be exterminated. After all, they were only aliens to him.

  I feared for Smithson and Trent, but I couldn’t ignore the look on Granak’s face. His eyes narrowed at Ambrose, his mouth twisted in a deep scowl. Then the two men at the bottom of the pit started coughing. And I felt the heat.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. Ambrose smiled. “Trent! Smithson! Are you okay?”

  The heat grew more intense, and Trent lay on the floor. Smithson tried to stand up and grab the wall, but he snatched his hand back with a scream and fell to the floor. Our eyes met.

  “I’m so sorry, Daniel,” Smithson said, his voice soft and raspy. Ambrose pressed a button and the cannon fired. A thick beam of pure energy erupted into the Tristain atmosphere and its booming sound smacked against my eardrums. The power behind it was so immense that the aftershock needed an escape. The pit was designed as an exhaust. Flames spewed from the vents and engulfed Smithson and Trent.

  Twenty Three

  I screamed as the energy of the cannon dissipated and the smoke of the exhaust cleared. Sarah King finally accomplished her task. I saved Gregory Smithson once, so long ago. The worst part of it was how meaningless his death seemed to be. And Trent. Their bodies were burnt to smoking, blackened figures. Now that I was alone in this place, my only hope was the very alien that hunted and tried to kill me.

  “They died without honor,” I said.

  “They had no honor to begin with,” Granak answered.

  “Well said.” Ambrose walked back to us. “In less than an hour, there will be millions of deaths without honor.”

  Even Granak blinked.

  “You’re going to wait until the fleets are fighting each other, close enough to shoot them down,” I said, barely above a whisper. This time instead of a smile, Ambrose confirmed my fear.

  “One blast will eradicate them all and the stage will be set for Sarah King and Infinity to make their grand entrances,” Ambrose said.

  “And once you have your fleet of ships, you will hunt down every non-human in the galaxy and force them to recognize humanity as the dominant species.”

  Ambrose didn’t respond. Up until now he had played around the topic of aliens, never mentioning them in Granak’s presence, but what could he say with a non-human standing with us?

  With Granak’s hand still on the back of my neck, I felt the rumble building in his chest. My words had lit the fuel inside him. He released me and took a step toward Ambrose.

  “Humans think of themselves as invincible,” Granak said. “Yet, I’ve slain many of them.”

  “Granak,” Ambrose said. “We have to stay focused. We have almost won.”

  “No, there is no we in this. You humans are low and pitiful. Your bodies break so easily. Yet you claim that you are in control.”

  “What happened, Granak?” I asked him, wheedling his anger. “You were attacked, weren’t you?”

  I took a shot in the dark and hit on target.

  “The giant ship of silver came to our planet. Attacked my people.”

  The Echelon. Smithson had told me that Sarah King took out her frustrations on non-humans.

  Ambrose knew what was happening. He tried to take control of the situation by moving to attack Granak. He punched with his bionic arm, but Granak caught it. His claws extended and his teeth barred. He growled at Ambrose. He dug his claws into the metal arm. Ambrose thrust his right foot into Granak’s stomach. His leg must have been bionic, too, because the hit made Granak release his hold and tumble to the ground. But even after a hit like that, he stood up without nursing his wound.

  The two guards who had pushed Smithson and Trent advanced and aimed their weapons at Granak, but their leader was in the way. I used the opportunity to throw my shoulder into them. One fell to the ground and the other into the pit. I stuck my foot out to catch myself from falling, and turned to see the guard get up. I kicked him multiple times until he stopped struggling. At his belt was a small, straight dagger. I knelt down with my back to him and grabbed it, then cut the strap around my wrists.

  There were more guards, and Ambrose and Granak wouldn’t ignore me forever. I grabbed the unconscious guard’s rifle and took cover behind the closest box. If I peeked over the top, I could see them. Granak punched Ambrose, trying to cut with his claws, but Ambrose deflected with his bionic arm. None of the scratches or damage seemed to hurt him.

  They reminded me of the fight against my friend, Jason Hobbes, when he had become a cyborg. They were strong, but Granak proved himself to have more strength than humans. His downfall was his hotheadedness and arrogance. To the right, a handful of warehouse workers fled toward a rear gate. Four soldiers passed them on their way in. I aimed the rifle at them and let out a flurry of blue discharges. Two went down and the others returned fire. I jumped to the side as the box behind me burst into flames. Most of these packages were flammable, so if I wanted to prevent the facility from going boom while I was still inside, the fight had to be close enough for hand-to-hand combat. I didn’t have my sword or my revolver, but I’d kept the dagger. I leapt as the fiery box exploded. Fortunately, none of the flames passed to other containers, but if we continued the fight, it would only be a matter of time.

  I quickly crawled behind containers and workstations as the soldiers yelled and searched for me. There had to be weapons I could use somewhere in this facility. Risking my position, I opened a large container. The moment a soldier spotted movement, he shot a blue hole through the lid.

  “You’re going to blow us all up!” I yelled, hoping he would hold his fire and advance closer. Inside the container were, of all things, grenades. Nothing I could use.

  No, wait.

  Multiple varieties were placed inside the container. I ducked as another discharge almost vaporized my head. A crash from across the facility drew my attention. Whether it was Granak or Ambrose, I didn’t know and didn’t care. If it drew my attention, maybe it drew the soldiers’ attentions, too. In f
act, as both men turned toward the commotion, I grabbed one of every grenade and moved to behind a nearby computer station.

  Two of the four grenades wouldn’t work. They were explosive and would take out this entire installation. That being said, I attached one to my belt. If things escalated to the point where I couldn’t stop Ambrose and Granak, I would activate the grenades and blow up the whole fluxing place. It wouldn’t be the first time I acted drastically.

  The other two grenades were smoke and EMP. The last time I fought against the cyborgs, an EMP disabled their bionic bodies. It could also disable the cannon, and the smoke could provide the cover I needed. I just had to get close enough.

  The guards resumed their search, except now there were four instead of two. Flux. Each moved in a different direction. Using my bionic eye, I scanned the surrounding area. No flammable material was detected by the soldier on the far right, so I sidestepped from cover and fired the rifle. The first shot missed, but the second hit him square in the chest.

  “There he is!” one shouted and they all turned toward me.

  I moved farther back into the facility and barely avoided their blue fireballs. Fifteen meters ahead I found a narrow corridor that gave me a chance to turn the advantage in my favor, assuming no other guards waited for me on the other side.

  I shot a few rounds above the soldiers, careful not to hit anything that could explode. They took cover and gave me a chance to run to the corridor. The other side was an extension of the warehouse—boxes and crates of what I could only assume were weapons. The split second I took to survey the area proved to be a mistake, because in that moment a soldier crashed into me.

  His weapon clattered to the ground. As he reached out for it, I brought my boot down on his hand. He yelled as I rolled over, and kicked the weapon away from him. Both of us stood at the same time and exchanged blows. He threw his right fist at me, but I blocked it with my forearm. He reached in and grappled with me. We still stood at the end of the open corridor, vulnerable to attack. The three soldiers advanced and shot at us with no regard for their comrade. I twisted quickly to put the soldier in between me and the blast. He went limp when it hit. I dodged the second and third blasts and reached for the smoke grenade at my belt.