Antagonize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 2)

by Thomas R. Manning

  I pulled the pin, counted to three, and threw it back into the corridor. The soldiers yelled, the grenade popped, and smoke poured out. They coughed violently and I returned to the corridor. My bionic eye scanned over each of their hunched figures. I inhaled deeply, held my breath, and ran toward them knowing full well that the more actively I fought, the shorter I could hold it in and the weaker I’d be.

  I grabbed the first soldier and rammed his head against the wall. Soldier number two turned. I punched him in the face and heard his nose crack. He fell. The third guard swung his arms wildly in an attempt to hit me. My vision blurred and my lungs burned for air. I had to get out of the smoke, so I chose the quickest method of disabling the soldier. The next swing he took, I ducked and threw a hard punch at his groin, then ran out of the smoke as my lungs forced my mouth open to suck in oxygen. With the smoke close behind me, I still inhaled it and coughed, but the three soldiers were down . . . for now.

  Back in the main room, I saw Ambrose once again at the cannon’s control pad. Where was Granak? A loud roar from the far side of the facility gave me the answer. Three Infinity soldiers flanked him and released a barrage of firepower. This was my chance. I ran to the edge of the pit and grabbed the EMP grenade from my belt. If I threw it at the perfect moment, it would blow just as it landed next to Ambrose and the computer station.

  I judged what I thought would be the best time to throw. I pulled out the pin, waited a few seconds, and threw the EMP.

  “Catch that, you bastard,” I muttered.

  And he did just that. Ambrose turned, apparently knowing I was there, and caught the grenade. His mechanical hand crushed and disabled it. I had only grabbed the one.

  “Nice try, Quinn,” he said and threw the debris back at me. The pieces hit my armor and fell to the floor. As he stared me down, I noticed he’d taken a lot of damage. His uniform was slashed across the chest and arms, absorbing blood from various wounds. His metal arm was scratched and punctured in multiple places.

  “Ambrose. Please. These are human beings you’re going to murder.” I didn’t expect pleading with him to work, but I was running out of options.

  “More than you realize, I’m afraid,” he said with a sadistic smile. “Collateral damage. And it seems there’s an additional ship I’ll get to destroy.” He pointed to the side wall where the large display screen showed three videos. The tactical screen counted down to less than thirty minutes. But what stopped my heart, or felt like it at least, was the small blip in between two fleets. The ship’s designation was mine. What the hell were they doing?

  The decision had been made. Not only was my ship in the path of the cannon, but everyone onboard. Tress, Al, and Autumn would all die. I wouldn’t let that happen. I pulled out my last two grenades, the kind that would make this entire place go boom.

  But I underestimated Ambrose’s speed. I thought I had enough time to pull the pins and make peace with myself. Ambrose, even from the other side of the platform, leapt across the pit in a second, grabbed my wrists, and squeezed. My hands, growing numb under his pressure, dropped the grenades. Ambrose kicked them away and, with his metal hand, crushed my left wrist.

  I screamed in pain and grabbed my arm when he let go of me. But he used the opportunity to kick me in the stomach, which sent a surge of agony through my chest. I fell to the ground as Ambrose laughed.

  “Sarah King will be pleased to see you again, Daniel. I won’t kill you, you know. That’s her job. I do feel bad that I’ll be destroying the artificial intelligence she’s long sought, but it was just an unfortunate accident your ship got caught in the crossfire.”

  I could barely register his words through the pain. I looked around, gasping and trying to find one of the grenades. I pressed against the floor with my right hand and rose to my knees, but Ambrose kicked me again and I nearly rolled into the pit. The catwalk to the platform saved me from falling. Ambrose put his metal foot on my chest, pinning me.

  “It’s over. We’ve won,” he said.

  The growl from across the pit seemed to contradict his statement. I watched Ambrose’s eyes grow wide and his mouth gape. I craned my neck to see Granak holding two of the Infinity soldiers, their bodies clawed and bloody. He threw them into the pit and they landed with a dull clunk.

  “You overestimate yourself, Ambrose,” Granak said. “Someone is going to win today, but that will not be you.”

  Although Ambrose had thrown the first punch, he looked genuinely frightened at the sight of Granak’s advance.

  “We had a deal! I paid you for your service!”

  “Our business deal was merely a way to facilitate getting close to you and your organization. Now, I will end you and demonstrate to your master who is truly the dominant species.”

  Twenty Fou r

  Granak pounced on Ambrose and swiped at him, creating a shower of sparks when his claws scratched against his metal forearm. Ambrose retaliated and backhanded Granak, who recovered in seconds. All this time, their hatred and focus was on each other. For the second time they ignored me completely. Why shouldn’t they? My wrist was broken, possibly a few ribs, and I thought my teeth might shatter from gritting them together so hard to keep from screaming.

  But if I could move . . . if I moved back toward the weapon crates, I would be right in the thick of their fight. My only choice was to turn and move toward the cannon control. I would have little time. Once they saw me, they’d stop fighting and come after me. I had no weapon and my body wanted to give up, but I crawled across the catwalk to the cannon platform. Granak snarled and Ambrose screamed, but I dared not check what happened. I couldn’t waste any more seconds.

  Once I reached the computer screen, I knelt and looked at the controls. There were various menus and options, but I couldn’t find one that would deactivate the cannon. Power built inside it, readying to fire into space and destroy the two fleets. There was no fluxing off switch; what the hell was I going to do? Could I just unplug the damn thing?

  There didn’t seem to be any cords or electric outlets, which meant they might have been built into the structure itself. I quickly scanned the menu options and stopped when I saw a link to the targeting system. I tapped the button and brought up a display map similar to the one on the facility’s large screen. I couldn’t deactivate the cannon, but I could reposition it! I searched over the map, trying to find a point where the blast wouldn’t hit the fleet or any surrounding planets.

  The defense grid. If I destroyed the defense grid surrounding Tristain, then the fleet, whichever one survived, could investigate without being blown to pieces. I also hoped that the cannon blast acted as a kind of flare. If the fleets saw the blast and scanned it, they would detect the high energy level and have no choice but to come. All I needed to do was change the cannon’s course.

  I touched my right hand to the map and zoomed in to see a computerized simulation of Tristain’s orbit. The square-shaped grid markers, similar to satellites, were evenly placed around orbit. Half of them were equipped with plasma technology and the other with missiles. I chose a course that would incinerate two of the markers, which should, in theory, deactivate the connected grid. I hit execute and the cannon grinded against its mechanical parts, turning slightly to the south.

  When Ambrose heard its sound, he turned and screamed when he saw me. I smiled and gave him a half-assed Terran salute—one I saw Scott and his men use. The gesture held his attention long enough for Granak to stab him with his claws. Four sharp points went through Ambrose’s back and came out his front, accompanied by a small trickle of blood seeping from the wounds. Granak growled and pulled his hand out, crunching bone along the way.

  General Ambrose of Terra fell dead. Granak panted, covered in blood, though I didn’t know whose it was. He looked beaten and bruised and scarred. Blood dripped from his nose as he approached me.

  “How many of your people did they kill?” I asked. We weren’t friends, and he was most likely coming to kill me, but I felt enough sympathy
to learn what happened to his people. Sarah King didn’t realize that she kicked a beehive when she attacked the Leondren.

  “Far too many,” he said. “My people are angry, and they demand that blood be spilled. They deserve blood to be spilled!”

  “Blood has been spilled,” I told him, too tired to even look up. “So much blood . . . this needs to end.”

  “I agree,” he said, reaching me. He grabbed my collar and hoisted me off the ground. “It’s time I finish the General’s work!”

  “What? I don’t understand,” I said, gasping.

  “The humans do not deserve to live. They are small, weak, and die easily. Ambrose had a good plan. Destroy the fleets. Open the way for invasion, but it will not be King’s invasion that comes.”

  “You’re going to bring the Leondren here . . .”

  “I will contact our planet and tell them to prepare for a glorious war. We will invade your planets and cities and show you how weak and fragile you are. You do not deserve to travel the stars.”

  He stopped a moment, peering into my eyes.

  “I will admit this,” Granak snarled. “You have been a worthy opponent, unlike the rest of your pathetic species. But now is the time to obliterate humans. You may watch it happen before you die.”

  He threw me across the catwalk and I screamed when I landed hard on my wrist, which probably broke the rest of my arm. Tears and sweat burned my eyes.

  Is this how it would end? Granak wins and humanity loses? Instead of Sarah King building her empire here, we would have millions of Leondren invading and killing people? I had few options. I might be able to crawl and reach a grenade, but my mind focused solely on Granak. He set it all up, got himself involved with Ambrose, just to get close to humanity so he could attack. He started it all with the death of Damon Derringer.

  He may have started it, but I wouldn’t lie around and wait to die. I was going to fluxing finish it. I pushed myself up with my good arm and grimaced. Granak had already turned to study the console. He only needed seconds to key in the sequence that would return the cannon to its original firing position. He didn’t consider me to be a threat anymore and, therefore, ignored me. That’s where I had him.

  In his time with humanity, Granak learned that we can die easily and that we cower and flee in the face of fear. The entire Leondren race may have the same outlook toward us, but they weren’t considering the big picture—the power of survival and sacrifice.

  Damon Derringer worried so much that he was a target that he hid his information with Tress. Granak blamed fear as the reason Damon fled to Karth, but that wasn’t the reason at all. He fled to Karth so he would reach me. All that mattered to him was the mission.

  I didn’t want to die, but I couldn’t live knowing that my sacrifice could have saved millions of people. I summoned the rest of my strength; adrenaline quenched my pain and fatigue. Neither of them would matter soon enough.

  I charged. My chest and arm protested with every step. I nearly collapsed twice, but my footing held and I continued toward my fate.

  Granak turned as my feet clanged loudly against the catwalk. When our eyes met, I released a primal roar filled with my pain, exhaustion, and rage. The noise that echoed throughout the facility sounded inhuman. I threw my arms wide and drove my shoulder into his midsection.

  The impact was like hitting a metal bulkhead. I wasn’t sure if I broke my collarbone or dislocated my shoulder, but it hurt. The sound of screaming changed from anger to agony; all other cognitive thought was lost in the pain.

  Granak was tough, his physique built to endure, but when he pivoted to look at me, he didn’t fully turn his body, which caused his footing to be awkward. We fell off the command pedestal into the exhaust chamber. The cannon would fire in minutes and kill us both.

  When we hit the ground, I forced myself to think only three words.

  Don’t let go.

  I had landed atop Granak, but it still stole the air from my lungs. I grabbed his clothing. Intense heat emanated from the exhaust vents. In mere seconds, I felt the sweat beading all over my body. My senses were overloaded. All I could smell was blood and body odor. My bionic eye fluctuated between various readings: heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels, combined with static. I heard and felt the energy levels of the cannon rising to optimal levels. The ground trembled, ready to let loose its power. Thick, suffocating heat poured into the chamber.

  Granak tried to push me off, but I held on firmly. His fist, denser than a sledgehammer, came down on my right arm. I cried out and let go of him. But for every time he hit my arm, I grabbed him again, and would continue to do so as long as I could. He growled in frustration, hitting me harder and faster. My arm demanded to let go, but I knew if I held on for just another minute, everything would end.

  The next time I reached to grab him, I missed. I tried to grab at anything to stop him, but when I touched something firm, I looked up to see one of the dead soldiers. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t fail. Granak moved slowly, reaching to grab the ladder’s first rung. If I could crawl toward him, maybe I could pull him back down.

  My hand passed over the soldier’s uniform and felt something solid. I grabbed the object and hope returned to me—possibly the last time I would feel it. I pointed the soldier’s rifle as straight as I could and aimed for Granak’s back.

  The blue discharge hit him squarely and he stumbled forward with a scorch wound on his back. But it wasn’t enough. He stood his ground and continued to climb the ladder. I pulled the trigger again and again, pushing my finger harder each time as if it could add force to the discharge. I shot until the battery had well worn out.

  “Fall! You fluxing bastard, fall!”

  I clicked the weapon countless times, straining my neck to look up at Granak, who no longer climbed the ladder. Black burn marks covered his back. With a deep groan, the Leondren finally fell to the ground.

  I dropped the rifle and sighed. The cannon would fire at any second, and all I had to do was lie here and wait for the exhaust flames to overtake me. But then I remembered Autumn’s face, Tress’s enthusiastic attitude, and Al’s voice. There were still things I wanted to do, people I wanted to live for.

  I crawled with only one arm to pull me forward. I knew that I might still die, but dying while attempting to live gave me a sense of pride. Granak’s back was hot when I reached him. Somehow he still breathed, but otherwise didn’t move. His body had astounding durability. If a war really did break out between humanity and the Leondren, it would be brutal and terrifying. After all, look how much chaos just one of them caused.

  I grabbed the first rung of the ladder. Slowly and painfully, I pulled myself up. My body begged me to stop, to let go and wait for the inevitable. I cringed at every sound and froze, sure that the cannon was about to fire. Rung after rung, I jumped with my good foot and held tightly to the next. I was going to see Autumn again, and Tress, and Al. I was going to live. All I needed to do was move a dozen more rungs up.

  I reached the top of the chamber and pulled myself onto the platform. I swung my right leg over, but as I followed with the left, a sharp object pierced my calf. I screamed and found Granak’s claw in my leg. He was right below me, his eyes wide and terrible, his teeth barred. He pulled hard and I nearly fell back into the chamber, but I managed to grab a conduit connected to the main computer console.

  That’s when the cannon fired. I pulled hard as the blast released a resounding boom. My leg didn’t come with me. Hot, white, blinding pain overloaded my senses. With it came darkness I was sure meant the end of my life.

  Twenty Five

  My eyes opened; a simple movement that held a complex revelation—I was alive. Whatever damage I sustained was either healed or numbed, or paralyzed because I couldn’t move my head to see what the rest of me looked like. The ceiling was white and there were too many odors to describe. I heard beeping.

  “You have a ridiculous will to live, my friend.” A man’s voice spoke to me fro
m where my feet should have been. I recognized it, but my thoughts and memories swam in a thick haze.

  The man leaned in so his head was above mine.

  Commander Reynold Scott. The last time I saw him, we had fled Terra. He and his men held off the Sentinel forces so we could escape. He survived.

  I tried to speak, but only rasped a gurgle. I winced from the dry irritation. Scott placed a small, sealed cup with a straw in front of my lips. I sipped cold, refreshing water.

  “Don’t try to speak. Let me do the talking. You, young man, are stubborn, ignorant, and the bravest man I’ve ever had the honor of meeting.”

  There was little feeling in anything below my neck, but I raised my eyebrows.

  “I have someone who wants to see you, but I need to know you understand what I’m saying.” I nodded. He returned the gesture and waved his hand for that someone to come in. I waited to see Autumn’s face, or even Tress, but the woman who appeared was older. For the first time, I saw a genuine smile cross her face.

  “Mr. Daniel Quinn, I wanted to personally thank you for all you’ve done,” Samantha Burns said. “You risked your life and your ship to protect us and show us all what matters most. Because of you and your associates, Terra and Gaia have called for a ceasefire.”

  A ceasefire? How the hell long was I out? That couldn’t have happened overnight.

  “Daniel,” Scott chimed in. “You’re now looking at the Terran delegate who will run for President of the Genesis system.”

  Genesis. Creating a new way of life. Appropriate. Less than a handful of council members survived, and I thought back to Trent and his pointless death. Both he and Smithson deserved better. Burns told me that in the last week, which is apparently the time I had been unconscious, dozens of men and women from both planets pledged their interest in creating a new council. This one would help maintain control under the Genesis President.