Darkness Rising

by C. Gockel

  So far, the birds hadn’t noticed.

  Despite the pace and the fact that she wasn’t augmented, Volka wasn’t flagging. She moved smoothly, with sure steps, keeping her head low. His Q-comm sparked, and he realized she was stalking, just like he’d seen her do on the asteroid before she killed something and ate it raw. Her movements were even more fluid than the Marines, and he knew if he could see her ears, they would be forward. There was nothing at all in her poise to suggest fear…Volka was on the hunt.

  6T9 adjusted the phaser he carried. He didn’t feel at all the same. He eyed the rest of the team. They were walking in single file, with Dr. Walker and Trina carrying Dr. Lang on a stretcher between them. Isaacs walked in front of them, and John walked behind, near Trina. The two scientists were armed with hunting phaser rifles that wouldn’t become flamethrowers like the Marines’ weapons.

  When the team was discovered, they would move into a roughly rectangular formation with the scientists, Trina, Dr. Walker, and Dr. Lang’s stretcher in the center.

  Carl was riding in a backpack carried by Trina. He squeaked, “The thing that was once Dr. Khan has emerged from the shuttle.”

  “I see him,” said Young. “He is unarmed. You’re sure that he is the only human in the landing party?”

  Carl squeaked. “Yes. I suspect the Darkness didn’t want to waste resources that could be expended fixing Time Gate 33.”

  Trina piped up. “They are having problems. For some reason, they’ve lost gravity aboard the station. Every single tile of grav plating is saying it’s offline.”

  6T9 looked up. “The bird formation is changing.” Moments ago, they’d been flying every which way in the sky, but now they were condensing, flowing in another whirlwind up from the shuttle.

  “It’s getting ready to take off!” Young said. “Fire at stun levels to disable it!”

  The Marines fired into the whirlwind of birds, and the creatures’ wails echoed throughout the valley, but in the gaping hole left through their cloud, there was no sign of the shuttle. It had already left, presumably on an autopilot routine. Lifting his eyes beyond the cloud of birds, 6T9 saw it vanishing between mountain peaks, taking all his hopes for Volka’s and the teams’ lives with it and putting the infection that much closer to the Republic.

  The birds’ path changed. They flowed in the whirlwind toward Khan, and his voice rose above their din. “We offered to make this easy and comfortable, but you chose to make this harder. We. Will. Be. One!”

  A shot went off, and Khan tumbled to the ground.

  Birds poured down from the sky. The two Marines leading the group shot flames at them. Sixty exhaled. They’d entered the end game, and they’d lost.

  “Retreat!” said Young.

  Putting his hand on Volka’s shoulder, Sixty told himself they’d have a little more time together in the cave. But turning around, his jaw dropped. Emerging from the forest in the direction they’d come were animals of all kinds. Creatures the size of rhinos with wide, flat mouths and skin in thick plates, and leaner creatures slinking toward them, heads down…stalking predators. Outside the circle of flames provided by the Marines, the birds circled.

  One of the large herbivores charged the Marines—and was brought down by four phaser shots at once, but another animal had already begun to charge. One of the flamethrowers abruptly stopped working. 6T9 spun in place. There were birds and animals in every direction. His breath caught in a wasted display of emotion.

  Now it was over.

  Volka threw her weapon to the side. “It’s out of power,” she muttered. Dawn was spreading across the horizon. They’d been fighting all night. She was tired all the way to her bones, but even if their enemies would relent, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. The inside of her suit prickled—the water from her sweat had been reabsorbed by the armor—but not the salt. She was hungry and parched. She’d lost all inhibitions about the waste recycling a long time ago, but sometime in the last few hours the straw that she’d been sipping electrolyte solution from had come disengaged from the filtration unit. The team was crouched beneath the branches of one of the alien purple pines. They’d discovered that the branches and strange needles burned slow and steadily, not like Earth or Luddeccean trees. Now the tree was smoldering and that was keeping the birds at bay...partially, anyway. The team was surrounded by walls of carcasses—creatures large as a lizzar, and by the way they had charged, just as dumb. Other carcasses lay strewn just outside that perimeter. The orange, sandy soil was stained red with blood she couldn’t smell through her suit—at least that meant it was presumably still working. Still more animals were coming. The team was down to just a few rifles, pistols, and low-charge grenades. How much longer could they hold on? Hours? Minutes? Did they have another “Little Boy” like Hale had used? She did not want to be taken alive.

  “Don’t give up hope!” Carl cried into her mind. “There is a—”

  A bird landed on his helmet. He squeaked angrily, and the thing erupted in flame. The tiny werfle had been fighting along with them, setting birds on fire and distracting animals.

  Giving up hope was a sin, but was there any sense continuing to fight?

  “Hang on, Volka!” Carl cried. “There is a—”

  There was a roar from the perimeter and Carl hissed. A long lean creature with enormous fangs rushed them, but then abruptly started chasing its own tail.

  Carl squeaked. “Can’t talk…distracting it.”

  The beast stopped spinning. Someone shot it, but another one took its place, and then another. Volka attacked birds that swooped beneath their smoldering canopy left and right. She heard the rumble of one of the enormous lizzar-like creatures, and 6T9 threw down his phaser rifle saying, “I’m out of power, too.”

  Volka spun, clipping a bird, and another, her lips curled in anger, her teeth bared, and then across the carcasses of phasered beasts, she saw a lion-like creature. It rushed toward her on powerful legs she knew would launch it over the dead carcasses. For a moment, time stood still, but then Sixty leaped up from beside her. He met the lion-thing midair, and the two tumbled over the giant carcass that had been their fortress and landed at Volka’s feet, wrestling, Sixty’s left arm in its mouth, its powerful claws wrapped around his back.

  “Help is coming, soon!” Volka felt Carl’s words in her heart, and then the lion-thing on top of Sixty abruptly stopped struggling, and blood gushed from its eyes and mouth. Pushing it off of him, Sixty sat up. His suit was helplessly ripped, and synth blood was everywhere. His faceplate was cracked beyond visibility. “Carl, did you kill it?” Sixty asked.

  Volka turned to Carl and saw his little face squashed against the visor, his eyes closed. He’d passed out, just as he had after he saved Sixty from phaser fire.

  “Short circuits,” Sixty cursed. Throwing off his cracked helmet, he shouted, “James, help me get this thing out of here!”

  The two androids picked up the lion-thing, swung it two times, and tossed it onto a charging animal that looked a lot like a deer, temporarily stunning it. Another lion-thing crept from between the herbivores, preparing to leap. A few of the Marines no longer even had pistols and were resorting to knives.

  “I’ve got this one,” said James, pulling out a knife of his own and leaping meters into the air toward the lion-thing.

  A branch fell from the burning tree. Volka knocked it aside before it struck her or anyone else and looked up in dismay to see that it had created a wide gap in their coverage. She began striking birds away more frantically.

  “Lieutenant,” Ben said. “I don’t want to be taken alive.”

  “We won’t be,” Young promised, rapid pulses leaving his phaser pistol.

  “If we get dragged away by one of the carnivores, we may not get a chance to tap a Little Boy,” said one of the men.

  They had at least one left! Volka almost laughed deliriously. A grenade would rip her limb from limb. A nuclear bomb would rip her atom by atom. She’d be dead before she could
even feel it, and more importantly, take a lot of these things with her. She growled.

  John—Dr. Bower—grunted and said, “We didn’t stop the shuttle. They’ll have Time Gate 33 operational soon.”

  Trina, wringing birds’ necks in her gloved hands, said, “John, I promise, I won’t let—”

  “Lieutenant, it’s about time,” said Dr. Walker.

  Volka remembered Carl’s words. “Carl said help is coming soon. Maybe he knows something…”

  Firing off a few more rounds, Young replied, “The Republic is creating ships for gateless travel, but the prototypes are months away.” The Lieutenant glanced down at her, and she could just barely see his grim smile. “It’s top-secret intel, but it doesn’t matter if you know now.”

  James leaped back into the “wall.” Another Marine threw down his pistol. He tossed a small grenade over the wall and the explosion ripped through a herd of the deer-like things approaching from the East. But more came.

  They were down to two pistols and probably a handful of more grenades.

  “It’s time,” Young said, moving to stand over the unconscious body of Dr. Lang. Everyone began backing toward Young—Volka, too with Sixty beside her.

  She heard Dr. John Bower say, “Trina, I’m glad I finally got to meet you.”

  Still batting at birds, but more and more feebly, Volka panted, “Sixty, you, Trina, and James could escape. Young said that the Republic has faster-than-light ships in the works and they could be here as early as a year.”

  “I’m staying with John,” said Trina.

  “Staying with James would be voluntarily submitting to a year of celibacy. I’d rather be blown up,” Sixty replied.

  Volka giggled despite everything, or maybe because of it. She spun to knock a bird away from Young, though she wasn’t quite sure why she was doing it.

  Young grinned at her, looking absolutely manic. “Gentlemen and ladies,” he said, pulling a black canister from his belt that was wide as Volka’s wrist and about half as long as her forearm. It didn’t seem to be heavy. She’d heard that nuclear bombs were heavy, like lead. He pressed a button, and it lengthened, the top turning orange. “Any last words?”

  One of the guys said to another, “The girl on Mars really wasn’t the best, Jerome.” There were chuckles and snorts all around and Dr. Walker said, “I’m sure you two weren’t her best, either.”

  Volka could hear the grin in Ben’s voice when he said, “I’m glad these last few moments could be meaningful.”

  Everyone laughed, even James.

  Volka lowered her stick and looked at Sixty. Eyes meeting hers, he held out his arms. She let her stick drop and walked into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her, and he lifted her off the ground, his chin tucking into her shoulder. It was a lot better way to die than in a ditch with the Guard. Much, much better. She wasn’t afraid anymore. “See you soon, Sundancer,” she murmured, wondering when she’d decided that she believed spaceships could go to heaven. But 6T9 couldn’t. He’d go to a giant computer somewhere. She had the sudden urge to take off her helmet so she could smell the world, and him, one more time. Before she could voice that wish, Young said, “It has been a pleasure knowing you all.”

  The ground shook, and the sky filled with fire.

  19

  The Merkabah

  It took a moment for Alaric’s brain to register that he was seeing exactly what Luddeccean Intel had predicted through the scopes: a massive army of birds and beasts converging on a spot no larger than the spread of a Luddeccean pine. If they were right about that, there was also a good chance they were right that Volka was among them. They’d just mentioned her name casually in the pre-mission planning.

  The archbishop’s words replayed in his mind. “The worst nightmares of Luddeccean tradition are real. There is an alien force that controls the minds of animals and men, and it has infiltrated the Republic.”

  Alaric was thinking of Volka, but also of his sons, Alexis, and his world as his mind grasped the scene. “God help us all,” Alaric whispered, even though he didn’t believe in God.

  He threw himself into the role of captain like a man at sea would throw himself onto land. “Advance to target at Mach 10. Away team, prepare for deployment.”

  It took Sixty 3.5 nanoseconds to realize that the sound that had registered as an explosion wasn’t the strange grenade Young held. It had been the sound of a vessel without dampeners traveling at ten times the speed of sound. Seconds later, the fires started, and it was two seconds after that when he realized that the flames weren’t aimed at them. They were being fired in a fan shape by humans who’d jumped from the ship on drop lines and landed as gently as snowflakes, even though they carried massive packs that were attached to weapons spitting fire. The lines retracted up into the ship, and a second later, he recognized the make of the vessel as being the same as Alaric’s ship on Libertas—which was impossible. There was no ship in the Republic that could travel faster-than-light, much less a Luddeccean ship. Suited humans jogged toward them, making a protective circle on the outside of their wall of carcasses as others destroyed beasts down the slope just meters from them, obviously in preparation for the ship to land.

  A human just opposite the wall from Volka and 6T9 shouted above the roar of engines, the whoosh of flames, and the scream of birds and beasts. “Citizens of the Republic, I am authorized by the Archbishop Kenji Sato of the Free System of Luddeccea to rescue you! Do you have wounded?”

  “Yes,” 6T9 responded, gesturing for Dr. Walker and Trina to bring the stretcher with Lang and Carl forward. Walker turned as they reached the wall of carcasses and called back, “Stratos you, too!” The man with the broken shoulder, tied in a sling over his envirosuit, cursed something to the effect of, “I still have one good arm,” but followed as well.

  The carcasses were still in the way.

  Slipping into a dominance routine and dropping to pick up the head of the nearest carcass, 6T9 declared, “James and I will clear the way.” It wasn’t James, but Marine Benjamin Moulton who was at the creature’s hindquarters with inhuman speed. Lifting it with augmented strength, he and Sixty had the beast cleared away in seconds, and Stratos, Dr. Walker, Trina, and their precious cargo were jogging to the ship, now hovering a few meters away. A wide gangplank descended, and troops with flamethrowers stood on either side, protecting the retreat.

  “Any more scientists?” the Luddeccean bellowed.

  “John, Isaacs, you’re next!” Young ordered, which was perfectly right and sensible. Civilians should have priority, which meant Volka. 6T9 spun in place, and for 3.8 seconds that felt like an eternity, he couldn’t see her…or James. He dropped his eyes in an unhelpful, pre-programmed emotional response that had him scanning the ground—and then he did see them. James was sitting against the far wall, legs bent and stretched out, hands behind him as though he’d been walking backward and slipped. Volka was sitting on her heels beside him, holding one of his arms.

  6T9 raced over, even as Young shouted, “Move out!”

  “It will be okay,” he heard Volka say.

  “I’m not going,” James replied. His helmet had come off sometime during his war with the alien predator, and his blue eyes were wide and on the ship.

  “The archbishop ordered them to protect us and he’s different,” Volka replied as 6T9 sat down beside her. It was the worst thing she could have said.

  Scrambling backward, succeeding in only pushing his back up the wall, James said, “He’s the worst of them. 6T9, they have faster-than-light technology that we had no knowledge of. They could have other technology as well. They may be able to prevent us from leaving our bodies when they torture us.”

  “Does he need help?” a voice with a Luddeccean accent asked.

  “They’re androids!” Volka shouted, leaping to her feet, tiny fists curling. “Will they be safe aboard your ship?”

  6T9’s skin flared with static. Short circuits, would Volka be safe?

  “You’
re Captain Darmadi’s weere—I mean, Volka of New Prime, aren’t you?” said the voice.

  “I don’t know you,” Volka hissed, and 6T9 could hear the hair on her head rising in her voice.

  “I’m Lieutenant Grayson of the Luddeccean Guard. You are pardoned by his Excellency, Volka of New Prime,” said Grayson, bowing, probably not for Volka, but for Kenji. “Counselor Abraham is dead.” He nodded at 6T9 and James and took a step back as though vaguely uneasy. “The robots are not to be harmed.”

  Benjamin Moulton, the Special Forces member who had helped 6T9 move the massive herbivore minutes before, materialized from the gloom. “We have to get out of here. An attack from the time gate is more likely now. They know they’ll never get us alive.”

  He was right. The only reason a pod hadn’t been dropped on their grisly fortress was because the entity aboard the gate had hoped to possess the humans and command their minds.

  “James,” 6T9 said. “This is our only chance to escape without uploading ourselves.” He put a hand on James’s shoulder. “This body, it belongs to Noa, too. Don’t you want to try and hang onto it for her?” And then he realized his mistake. Noa wasn’t James’s owner. To be owned by a human was, for most androids, a shameful prospect—or a rage-inducing one. Noa was merely James’s wife; he’d chosen her without programming.

  To 6T9’s surprise, James met his eyes. “All right,” he whispered. His entire body began jerking spasmodically.

  “We’ve got incoming. Three minutes to move out,” the Luddeccean said. “I will have to leave you here.”

  “Come on,” said 6T9, throwing James’s arm over his shoulder. Benjamin Moulton got the other one.