Rounding the mouth of the alley, they saw the shuttle on the pad. Owain was collapsed on the pad, his rig still secure around him. Hope didn’t know what had dropped the Engineer. She didn’t even know if he was alive. A flash of colored fabric caught Hope’s eye, and a tassel from Holly’s rig fluttered by in a dust eddy. Of the rest of her friend, there was no sign.
Hope and Ottavia made for the shuttle. There was shoonk-hush, then a massive ball of fire engulfed the shuttle. The blast lifted Hope off her feet, tossing her on her back. Fragments of metal rained down, and Hope twisted to the side as a drive cowling fell towards her. It impacted where she’d been lying, ceramicrete shattering underneath it. Hope struggled to a sitting position. Ottavia was off to her left, the Bulwark officer coming upright in a limber kip. Her repeater was gone, but her translucent blade was hungry in her hand.
Hope had a few thoughts in rapid succession. First was the Ezeroc do not use rocket launchers, followed by where is my drone? and then, our shuttle is gone. She clambered upright, turning to Ottavia. “Come on,” she said. “I know a place.”
Ottavia shook herself, then ran. “Great!” she yelled. “Let’s get to cover first!”
They roadie-ran across the remains of the street, ducking into the doorway of what could have been a department store before the fall. Hope wanted to stop and just breathe for a second, but Ottavia grabbed her arm, yanking her forward. Ten meters inside, the entranceway was destroyed in another ball of fire, tossing them both headlong across the floor. Hope came to a jarring stop against a structure that could have been stairs but could have been a sculpture too. She bit her tongue, crying out. Ottavia was by her side, eyes bright and clear through her visor. “Get up, Engineer. Get up.”
How is she so fast? How is she not stunned? What does Chad do to them to make them so strong? Hope’s mind was still milling questions without ready answers, just like it always did. She took Ottavia’s hand, strong through the ship suit, and clambered up. “They’re, they’re hunting us,” panted Hope.
“Yes,” said Ottavia. “It’s not the roaches.”
“But we killed some,” said Hope. “We killed Ezeroc.”
“We did,” said Ottavia. “But there’s something else. Something I can’t see. Do you get me, Engineer? There are machines out there. Not people with bracelets.”
Hope had a wild, panicked thought. Had her project gotten out, somehow? But no, alarms would have been set off. She’d have known. It wasn’t Hope’s project. Not this time. “Someone is using machines to hunt us?”
“Best guess, yes,” said Ottavia. “Drones, maybe. Piloted from outside Osaka, because I’ve got nothing close to us. Just the roaches.”
“Are they working with the Ezeroc?” said Hope.
Ottavia shrugged. “The bugs don’t go for teamwork with other species so well. If they’ve co-opted humans for drone support, we’ve got problems. We,” and here, she slapped her chest with an open palm, meaning Empire’s Bulwark, “are the line, Hope. But we can’t fight machines. No better than you.”
“Okay,” said Hope. “I’m good with machines.”
“Good,” said Ottavia. “Lead on to this safe place.”
Hope nodded, trying to ignore the shadows looming around them. Her mind said insects, but they weren’t. It was just plain ol’ shadows, and lack of sleep, trying to claw doubt into her, like she was a slab of clay ready to be corrupted. She set off, her HUD telling her that way. Through the department store, picking their cautious way through debris and rubble of a forgotten time. Columns rose in the gloom, cast in relief by her rig’s lamps. Her rig scanned ahead with RADAR and LIDAR, mapping the room. It was looking for conduits, finding none. No metal. No wires, no spent fuel cells, no batteries. Nothing like that. Just dust, and crumbling ceramicrete.
They reached a back wall, a crack in the side letting in a little light. Shimmying through, Hope held a hand out for Ottavia, helping her. They had emerged into a street. “How far?” said Ottavia.
“Couple klicks,” said Hope.
“Let’s double time it,” said Ottavia.
“Um,” said Hope. “I don’t work out very much.”
“Dead or breathless,” said Ottavia. She held her blade up. “Those are your choices. This won’t do shit against the machines.”
“Breathless, then,” said Hope. She jogged, a before unnoticed injury in her back twinging. Did she get that when she fell the first time or the second? Hope didn’t know. The dust tugged at her boots, swirling around her. Her rig said she was coated in nanites, tiny machines looking for a way in, the barest hole to get inside and render her down to her component parts.
They passed a pile of rubble, the hiss of Ezeroc coming from behind it. Two more drones rose from their hiding place, mandibles clacking. Ottavia ran at them, and after a moment, so did Hope. Better to die with another person than to die alone, right? Ottavia’s charge took her in fast and low, the nanoblade licking out, Ezeroc limbs combing off here and here. The creature reared back.
Hope’s Ezeroc scuttled in a circle, trying to work out how this crazy human with six arms would attack. At least, that’s what Hope wanted it to think, her rig’s arms waving. The Ezeroc lunged at her, and she squirmed sideways. One claw missed her, but another scudded along her rig’s shoulder plate with a screech of metal. Then the rig went to work. The grabbing claws reached out, seizing the Ezeroc. The plasma shears whipped around, and in less than half a second had turned the Ezeroc into four separate pieces. The rig let go of the two bits it held, and Hope turned to see Ottavia wiping her blade on her leg.
“Did it get you?” the esper asked. She nodded to Hope’s shoulder. “There.”
“Just a scratch,” said Hope. “No seals are broken.”
“I guess not,” said Ottavia. “The nanobot swarm would have got you.”
“Let’s go,” said Hope. She set off again, Ottavia taking the rear. Ahead, a humanoid figure loomed out of the gloom, its shadow promising death by blaster. A rifle was pointed at them. Ottavia knocked Hope down, plasma cracking over the top of them. There was a flash of green and red, then Hope’s small drone — lost, but now found! — zipped overhead, lasers firing. Ottavia hauled Hope up. The drone cut into the humanoid figure, and a staccato of plasma raged into the air, trying to nail the flying unit.
Hope didn’t wait to see how her drone fared. She ran. Breath, heaving in her lungs. Rig, warning of her spiking heart rate. Her feet, crunching over rubble, a bright lance of pain as she twisted her ankle. Ottavia, at her side, hauling her up again. Was that the tenth time, or the eleventh? The HUD, promising safety soon, in one klick, in half a klick, in just a couple hundred meters.
There. The entrance to her sanctum. A haven in the madness. Above the doorway, four humanoid figures, weapons ready. Hope skidded to a stop, Ottavia beside her. The other woman held her blade, low and ready. Hope took in the figures, the dust in the air, and closed her eyes, ready for the end. So close. So close, for everything.
There was a rumble of thunder, Hope’s eyes snapping open. The figures had turned towards the noise. The sky brightened with lightning, bringing another low boom of thunder. “Oh,” she said. “I know that sound.” She felt like the lightning brought rescue. Salvation. It sounded like a goddess, coming to save her.
CHAPTER NINE
THE TYCHE SHUDDERED around Nate, post-jump shivers running down his spine. He grinned at Kohl. The big man grinned back. “I love this shit,” said Kohl, in a non-specific way, but Nate knew what he meant. Jumping was a rush.
Duty calls. Nate turned towards the flight deck. In plain view, the dot of Earth, the size of a pinhead. They were aways out, because nothing said blow me out of the sky like jumping unannounced into Earth’s defense grid. He felt a tingle at the back of his mind when he thought about the defense grid. “Grace,” he said.
“Hey,” she said, turning to him. “Look. No Ezeroc asteroids.”
“Just how we left it,” he agreed. “I thought, just this once,
it might be good to go in dark.”
“You’re the emperor,” said Grace. “I’m the empress. We empire things.”
“Except,” said Nate. “That bad feeling? I’ve got it.”
“I don’t think going dark’s a good idea, no matter what your gut says,” said Grace. “If we go in the grid’ll pick us up. Turn us into floating parts. Not how I want to die.”
Baggs perked up. “Death seems a poor option.”
“I don’t want to die at all,” said Kohl. “I want a set of options where none of them involve death. If I can make a request, and I don’t think it’s a big one, the options shouldn’t include dismemberment or maiming, either. Is there an option without death?”
“I’m with the stupid guy,” said Saveria.
“Hey,” said Kohl. “Come out here and—”
“Nothing on comm,” said Grace. “Just the usual chatter. There’s a zillion ships in this system. And a zillion more people. Nothing … strange. But I can’t do what you can do.” She sighed. “I’m not even sure you can do what you can do.”
That was fair. Since Nate had been getting premonitions, some of them had played out true, some of them less so. What happened on Cantor? More or less all the moving parts he’d expected. But other times, he was no more accurate than a magic eight ball. “So,” said Nate. “Take us in, then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Just a little jump,” said Grace. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not him. “And we’ll be home.”
“Helm, ready for jump,” said Saveria.
Kohl clapped his hands. “Again? Fucken awesome.”
“Negative space bow wave forming,” said Saveria.
“Jumping in three,” said Grace. “Two. One. Jumping.”
Space in front of the window stretched, pulled, and Nate felt—
His other half, the person who completed him, so close it was like being one. The Empire, a blanket around them, strong and fragile at the same time. A hint of danger, a wolf in the dark, something he couldn’t see with his eyes. A gambler from long ago, come calling on his debt. The pure thrill of acceleration, impossible, unbelievable acceleration. He couldn’t feel it. He was it. He was everything. He was the universe.
Stars stretched, made points of light that streaked past the Tyche’s cockpit.
They jumped.
• • •
Post jump, Nate wanted to holler for joy. He wanted to throw up, too. It was always a mixed bag, the way your brain tried to put together what had just happened to the body.
Earth was a big blue-green ball out the flight deck windows, the Americas and the Atlantic facing the Tyche. Saveria was on comm, hailing the orbital defense grid. “This is the Tyche,” she said. “Unscheduled visit from his lordship.” Nate winced, but she hadn’t finished. “Request you do not blow us out of the sky, over.”
“Tyche, this is Earth orbital defense. We have you. Try not to hit anything on your way in. Welcome home,” said a warm voice on the comm.
“See?” said Grace. “Nothing to worry about.”
Nate keyed his personal comm. Time to see what the hell was going on. He picked up El and Hope’s last known coordinates, down on the crust, same location, but … that can’t be right. They were in Osaka, of all places. He hadn’t told Hope to do her liaison thing in Osaka. Osaka was a shithole. And if that cockmuppet Chinnery had sent her there, he’d have the man killed. Or something.
He pinged El, then Hope. Neither responded to his comm. “Uh,” said Nate. “I’m a little worried. Let’s get our feet dirty.”
“Where we going, Cap?” said Saveria, saying cap like she was trying the word on for size. It earned her a glance from Grace, but nothing else, and Nate figured on following Grace’s lead, so he said nothing about her use of the word either.
“Osaka,” said Nate.
“Go fuck yourself,” said Kohl.
“El and Hope are there,” said Nate.
“I’ll get my armor on,” said Kohl. He finished another beer, tossing the empty into the recycler — nothing but net — and hauled himself up. “Gracie. Why are we still in orbit?”
“Seems like it’s time to suit up,” said George, getting out of her couch. She stretched. “I wish I’d brought another EMP.”
Baggs nodded. “Never been eaten alive by a vicious nanobot swarm,” he said. He swung himself out of his acceleration couch, heading for the hold. “Always a first time.”
“I’m … nervous. The ship didn’t choose me. She chose another Helm.” But Grace hit the drives anyway, a little gentle thrust behind them. It wouldn’t do to drop 5Gs out the back, shaking Kohl, Baggs, and George around the hull. If Nate’s hunch was right, there’d be plenty of time for injury and death in a little while. He got out of his seat too, readying to join the Black. Nate paused at the crew deck airlock, then turned around, trotting to the flight deck.
He slipped inside, leaned in close to Grace, and kissed her. “Be back soon,” he said.
Her hand closed around the material of his ship suit, pulling him in for a second kiss. She held him close, eyes serious. “Nate. I’ve been through Osaka. I … lost two friends here. Before.” She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t press. “Once we open the airlock, it’ll be helmets on for everyone until we get the Tyche decontaminated.”
“That’s not what you want to tell me,” said Nate. He put a hand over hers. “Is it?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What is it?”
“Just…” Grace shook her head again. “It’s a city of devils. The life humanity made? This is where it first tried to kill us. We’re going into a combat drop, and we don’t have our Helm.”
Nate felt a chill run down his spine, but he forced a grin. “Eh,” he said. “That’s why we’ve got the Guild. Our own anti-devil cartel. Not a combat drop. Just a little smooth sailing.”
“I hope you’re right,” Grace said, letting him go.
“You know I am,” he said. “And if I wasn’t? We’ve got friends that need helping.” Nate stood up, giving Saveria a nod. “Lid on, you hear me?”
“Tiny robots, check. I’ve read the books.” Saveria pulled off her cap, then toggled her suit’s controls, a helmet lapping out of the collar to cover her head. “How do I look?”
“Like a spacer, born and raised,” said Nate. He left them to it, heading for the hold. The crew deck felt weird without the usual people living here, just empty rooms. Like the Tyche was waiting to be filled again. He grabbed the railing of the ladder to the hold, swinging over the side and sliding down. Boots clanking on the deck, he checked his sword’s belt over his shoulder, then the blaster at his hip. The hold was mostly empty, the usual straps around the sides, a couple containers lashed down. One of these had held Kohl’s power armor, now open and empty. He found Baggs and George waiting, helmets on, and Kohl swearing at his armor. He had most of it on and was struggling with the plasma cannon’s mount. “You need a hand?” said Nate. Baggs winced, and George shook her head.
“I look like I need a hand?” said Kohl.
“Kinda,” said Nate.
“Then there’s something wrong with your eyes,” said Kohl. His plasma cannon snicked into place, then whined as it slid behind him. “See?”
“My mistake,” said Nate.
“Yeah,” said Kohl.
The ship rumbled as they entered atmosphere. Grace’s voice came over the comm. “The Tyche’s picking up static from the ground.”
“Comm chatter?” said Nate.
“No, actual static,” said Grace. “Someone’s fuzzing the sensors. I’ve got RADAR specters. Only thing I can get a decent read on is LIDAR, and that’s not telling me anything useful.”
“We’re strapping in,” said Nate. He slipped into some of the cargo webbing. “Hard burn. Don’t spare the horses.” He slapped his own helmet controls, the neck seal of ship suit opening, plates sliding out to form a helmet around his head. Cool O2 whispered in his ear as his suit swit
ched to internal air supply, his visor lighting up with the team’s data. Grace and Saveria, vitals a little high with excitement. Baggs and George, adrenaline and cortisol spikes. And, last but not least, Kohl, whose vitals looked so relaxed he might have been in a coma.
“Copy that,” said Grace. The Tyche grumbled, the noise in the hold rising, the fusion cores above them giving a little curry to the experience. Nate held on, the ship dropping fast. The noise of re-entry, the rush of atmosphere against the hull, rose from a hush to a roar. George let out a whoop, and Nate could see the gleam of her grin across the hold. “Entry is hypersonic,” said Grace. “Air space is clear. Osaka coming up, or what’s left of it. Looks the same as last time I was here.”
Kohl raised an eye at Nate across the hold. Nate shrugged, so Kohl shrugged too, hefting his armor’s helmet and putting it on. The neck collar slid closed with a snap. “Hey, Cap,” said the big man. “We collecting souvenirs?” Which meant, if people are fucking with our friends, should I kill them and see if one of ‘em has a nice weapon I can add to my collection?
“If El and Hope are in danger, you can collect all the souvenirs you like,” said Nate.
“Coming in low and fast,” said Grace. “Hard contact. We’ve got Ezeroc. We’ve got … I’m going with drones. I’ve got Hope, and someone else with her. Empire’s Bulwark ping on the suit.”
Nate heard the roar of the old PDCs as the Tyche found something to spit tungsten at. The noise was joined by a whiiiiiine-CHUNK, which he figured as being the new railgun PDCs joining in. Nate was about to ask what she meant by I’m going with drones, and then he wanted to ask Chad’s got boots down here? but he didn’t have time to do either of those things. There was a hard pink-a-pink-a-pink, holes chattering through the deck. There was a FA-BOOOM, the entire ship shaking and spinning, a bright flash of fire accompanied by a scream of metal. Nate looked up, a hole torn above the cargo hold, daylight visible through a breach. That’s where the port drive used to be. Someone had fired three shots that passed through the new, hard armor of his ship, his wonderful Tyche, holing the drive, which had exploded outward in a shower of parts. It was lucky — so very, very lucky — the destruction hadn’t gone inward, coring the Tyche and killing them all.
Tyche's Demons_A Space Opera Military Science Fiction Epic Page 10