Shattered Dawn
(The Eternal Frontier, Book 3)
Anthony J Melchiorri
June, 2017
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by Anthony J Melchiorri
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Also by Anthony J Melchiorri
About the Author
Books by Anthony J Melchiorri
The Tide Series
The Tide (Book 1)
Breakwater (Book 2)
Salvage (Book 3)
Deadrise (Book 4)
Iron Wind (Book 5)
The Eternal Frontier
Eternal Frontier (Book 1)
Edge of War (Book 2)
Shattered Dawn (Book 3)
Black Market DNA
Enhancement (Book 1)
Malignant (Book 2)
Variant (Book 3)
Fatal Injection
Other Books
The God Organ
The Human Forged
Darkness Evolved
Shattered Dawn (The Eternal Frontier, Book 3)
Copyright © 2017 by Anthony J. Melchiorri. All rights reserved.
First Edition: June 2017
http://AnthonyJMelchiorri.com
Cover Design: Illustration © Tom Edwards, TomEdwardsDesign.com
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
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CHAPTER ONE
The faint glimmer of Meck’ara’s sun filtered through the ocean above Tag Brewer, a commander in the SRE navy and former chief medical officer, now captain of the SRES Argo. Millions upon millions of tons of salt water teemed with all kinds of sea creatures, vague analogues to the denizens of the deep found on Earth. A beast roughly the size of an SRE strike fighter craft passed above him, skirting upward along the massive polyglass bubble protecting Tag from the ocean’s crushing pressure. His eyes followed the sea monster as its tail whipped in circles, akin to a propeller, pushing its rotund, cilia-covered body. Its shadow passed over the spiral trees and bunches of bush-like vegetation in the park Tag walked through. Soon the beast followed the curve of the bubble back down, disappearing behind the silhouettes of buildings covered in black sheet-alloy that made up the Mechanic city of Deep Origin
The polyglass and alloy structures reinforcing the gargantuan bubble creaked under the weight of the ocean, accompanied by the soft sounds of artificial breezes caressing the parks and city beneath it. Mechanics striding along the streets gave Tag the occasional curious glance, and their soft chatter followed in his wake. Most of the Mechanics in the bubble cities had been saved from the scourge of the nanites. Tag’s Mechanic allies had discovered that the air recycling nanoparticles gave residents who had lived in these environments for years acquired immunity to the mind-slaving nanites that overrode their brethren’s normal neurological function. It was a gracious wonder that so many of them had survived in these cities and on land, taking to cover and hiding when the Drone-Mechs swept their world, commanded by some unseen Drone-masters to vanquish the free Mechanics.
Two Mechanics strolled next to a freshwater stream gurgling near the pathway. They stopped to talk and eat something with a pungently saccharine odor, far too sweet for Tag. It had the wispiness of cotton candy, and Tag couldn’t help but wonder what it was. But when another shadow crossed his path—this one belonging to a two-headed whale-like creature swimming over the dome—his eyes and thoughts turned back to the ocean serving as their sky.
A soft clicking, like someone tiptoeing across the stone pathway, sounded behind Tag. He recognized the easy gait of a familiar Mechanic and crew member: Coren. The alien strode toward him, clad in a formfitting black garment that looked like an undersuit the marines wore beneath their power armor. As Tag had roamed Deep Origin while organizing the repairs and restocking of the Argo along with meeting all the right dignitaries and Mechanic bureaucrats to garner support for the upcoming mission, he had seen Mechanics cared very little about fashion. Most wore the same outfit Coren did. In keeping with their no-nonsense nature, the clothes were designed purely for maximum dexterity and environmental protection.
Coren glanced up to watch the enormous creature Tag was looking at. “Don’t worry. Of all the bubble cities we’ve constructed, not one has so much as cracked. You’re perfectly safe.”
“I know, I know,” Tag said, an easy grin breaking across his face. “Mechanic technology is amazing. It’s the best gift the gods gave this world.”
The edge of Coren’s mouth twitched. A subtle gesture—the Mechanic’s version of a smile. “The gods didn’t give us this technology. We gave it to ourselves.” Coren matched pace with Tag. “No, strike that. We earned it ourselves.”
“As long as that Mechanic technology is good enough to get the Argo back into space, you can say whatever you want about it. That is, while we’re on your planet. Once we’re spacebound, all bets are off.”
“Ah, Captain, you’ve hardly been one to deride Mechanic technology. I fear your insults have no effect on me.”
“I don’t think you understand the implications here. This moratorium on respect toward Mechanics while we’re on Meck’ara will end for Sofia too.”
Coren feigned a humanlike expression of shock, his thin lips making an O shape and his single working eye bulging slightly even as his scarred-over eye looked as blank as ever. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would. You know her tongue is
sharper than a plasma-scalpel. And those are damn sharp. I would know, I’m a—”
“Doctor,” Coren said with a hint of exasperation. A woman with a long, dark ponytail streaming behind her was bounding for them, waving. “As you people are inclined to say, ‘speak of the devil.’”
Lieutenant Sofia Vasquez butted between the duo. “Skipper,” she said to Tag. Then, looking at Coren, “Your majesty, the king of all things mechanical and our honorable, superior scientific overlord.”
Tag imagined that if Coren had possessed eyebrows, he would have raised them as he said, “Sharp tongue, eh?”
“What?” Sofia asked. “You don’t like the title.”
“No, the title is fitting,” Coren replied. “Maybe not nuanced enough. A little lackluster in the sarcasm department.”
Tag looked behind them. “Where’s Alpha? I thought she was with you.”
“She was,” Sofia said, “but she kind of got distracted.”
Sofia pointed toward the edge of the park near the Deep Origin Governmental Complex building where they were headed. A gaggle of black-furred, lanky Mechanic children gathered around a silver-bodied, synth-bio droid. Alpha.
Tag checked his wrist terminal to ensure they were still on time for their meeting with the Mechanics and their newfound allies, the Melarrey. Fifteen minutes to spare. They approached Alpha and her posse of young Mechanics. Each of the children stared at her with wide, curious golden eyes as she regaled them with the intricacies of human-created artificial intelligence and the biological engineering necessary to make her existence a reality. Tag couldn’t tell if the children were more captivated simply by her mere presence as a living, talking synth-bio droid or by the technical challenges she explained to them. Knowing Mechanics, either option was a very real possibility.
Seeing Tag, Sofia, and Coren approach, Alpha looked up. “Captain Brewer, I lost track of time. I see the meeting is about to reconvene.”
“That it is,” Tag said. A few of the Mechanic children backed up as if afraid of him. Murmurs of his name spread through their ranks. “Have you been telling them ghost stories about me or something?”
Before Alpha could answer, one of the Mechanic children tugged on his sleeve with a six-fingered hand. “You created her!”
“Captain Brewer!” another called. “Tell us about the neuro-silico connections!”
“What about the processing power of a synth-bio brain compared to a traditional computational intelligence?”
Their voices rattled off a litany of questions to rival even the most aggressive of human academics at the galaxy-renowned University of Ganymede.
“Maybe later,” Tag replied with an amused laugh.
The group crossed a street—really more of a magnetic railway for the autopods that swerved through pedestrian traffic like water around rocks. Tag still hadn’t gotten used to the wind whipping past him from the AI-driven vehicles. They always seemed to be on a collision course with the pedestrians casually crossing through the traffic, but he did his best to follow Coren’s lead and confidently continue toward the government building. To do so was to fight a screaming voice inside his head telling him he was going to die each time an autopod careened in his direction and abruptly changed course at the last second.
An energy shield-like door fizzled away as the group approached the government building, and a squad of Mechanic soldiers escorted them through the obsidian halls. A sense of pride swelled in Tag’s chest as Mechanics paused what they were doing at their terminal pods to stare at him and his crew. Whispers of his crew and their role in the retaking of Meck’ara accompanied them like the rustling of leaves trails a gentle wind. Not long ago he was a mere scientist and physician aboard a research vessel.
Now he was ...
He wasn’t quite sure what he was.
Some of the Mechanics’ news streams were calling the Argo’s crew heroes. Tag had a reputation now as a brilliant scientist, leading the technological charge that had deactivated the Drone-Mechs and created Alpha’s synth-bio sentience. He’d even been inducted as an honorary member of the Mechanic Enclave.
Still, others speculated the Argo and its crew were part of a greater conspiracy, painting them as potential traitors allowed in the midst of the acting and still-reeling Meck’ara planetary government. No matter what the people of the ME called him, no matter what they thought of him or what rumors transpired throughout their crippled empire, Tag paid it little heed.
The only thing that mattered to him right now was determining who the bastards were that the Argo was supposed to be after. They had perverted nanite technology into a genocidal, species-enslaving technology.
His thoughts stewed as he entered a conference room filled with alien dignitaries, military officials, and others he didn’t know. One of the few he did recognize, Sergeant Ryan “Bull” Buhlman, gave him a curt nod.
Tag sat at the conference table, flanked by the other marines. Alpha, Coren, and Sofia found their seats as well. All the humor they had shared outside, the joy of walking around unhindered by the constraints of EVA suits or the cramped corridors of spaceships and space stations, had vanished. Wandering the city of Deep Origin had made it easy to forget that there was war going on. But as one of the Mechanic commanders, Bracken of the MES Stalwart, began to speak, any belief that this was a time of peace was shattered as swiftly as polyglass hit by a Gauss round.
“This is what the rest of Meck’ara looks like,” Bracken said. She waved her hand over a terminal, and the holodisplay lit up in an array of colors. It flashed through the cities left on the planet’s surface. Each had its own unique environment, whether cradled between mountains, tucked away in lush valleys, or nestled into forests butting up against breathtaking coastlines.
Where their architecture and environment differed, however, they had one thing in common. The holos showed Mechanic bodies left to rot on streets littered with rubble and pocked by craters. Buildings sagged from wounds levied by pulsefire; some no longer existed at all except for the skeletal remains of scaffolding jutting violently from the earth.
“These are the cities that were hit hardest by the Drone-Mechs,” Bracken continued. “And we do not yet know when the Drone-Mechs might return.”
CHAPTER TWO
None of the Mechanics gasped or gave away any expression that belied the inner turmoil Tag imagined he would feel had he seen Earth cities in such disarray. One Mechanic stood, and all eyes turned toward her. Tag recognized her as the acting Grand Elector of the Mechanic Enclave. Her black unisuit had three violet bands around each arm, the only symbol of her rank. The blue-gray fur on her snake-like face seemed to stand on end like she was bristling for a fight. Her fingers curled at dozens of joints, making Tag’s stomach twist at the inhuman movement, and she let out a deep sigh that resonated from her narrow chest with all the power of a parent immensely disappointed in her children.
“Now is not the time for silly theatrics or, machine be damned, hysterics,” Grand Elector L’ndrant began. She waved a six-fingered hand dismissively at the holos of the destroyed cities. “We know they’re dead. The great machine will soon reclaim and recycle their matter. They are the past.”
Tag couldn’t tell whether he admired her brazenness or cursed her utter disregard for the dead. Sofia raised her eyebrows as if to remind him what they had talked about over and over: Mechanics saw life as mere forward progress in time, a constant cartwheel of cogs moving the universe in one direction or another, driven by science and logic. Spirituality didn’t fit into the views of most of their religions, if you could call them that.
“I don’t care about what has been destroyed. I care about what will be rebuilt, what we still have to explore, and how we will utilize Meck’ara to retake what is ours,” L’ndrant said. She gave Bracken a strange look, her dark brow slightly furrowed, and her golden eyes pooled with light. To Tag, it looked almost like she was expressing pity. “Bracken, I do commend you and these aliens”—she gestured widely to Ta
g and his crew—“for defeating the Drone-Mechs here. Brilliant work. Really, very brilliant. But your job is done. Your task accomplished. What do you hope to achieve by showing me the destruction of our planet over and over? I have seen this firsthand on my tour of the planet.”
“I merely present these images as a rallying cry,” Bracken said, “for the proposed mission Captain Brewer hopes to lead.”
Now all eyes turned to Tag. A slow heat crept into his cheeks as he felt the steel of their gazes.
“Yes,” L’ndrant began, “what do our humans have planned for us?”
A lump formed in Tag’s throat as L’ndrant sat. He immediately stood as required by Mechanic custom. The floor was his. He tried to swallow, but the annoying lump in his throat didn’t clear until he coughed. His eyes swept all those waiting to hear what he had to say, from his crew to the Mechanics. A Melarrey representative, Jaroon, gave him a strangely human smile. The corners of the translucent jellyfish-like alien’s mouth remained curled upward as the nerve bundles visible behind its three eyes sparked as though they were live electric wires. Maybe it was a gesture of assurance. Though a bit unsettled, Tag gave him a nod of thanks back.
“We have uncovered intelligence that may lead to the Drone-masters responsible for the nanites and the Drone-Mechs,” Tag said. Then he glanced at Jaroon again and added, “And the destruction of the Melarrey.” He explained the Argo’s original cover story of a scientific mission, and how only Captain Weber and a few of the ship’s officers knew their true directive. Somehow the Drone-Mechs had discovered their purpose and their hidden cargo—enough ramjet thermonuclear weapons to raze an entire planet. Then he described the coordinates of the Argo’s destination. Several of the Mechanics nodded along, and the nerve bundles behind Jaroon’s eyes burned brighter. Confidence swelled in Tag like a T-drive spooling for hyperspace.
“And what is this intelligence you have discovered leading you to this location?” L’ndrant asked.
All the momentum he had gained seemed to slam against an alloy bulkhead. He held up a paper book. Captain Weber’s notebook.
A few of the Mechanic government and military officials broke out in whispers. L’ndrant let out a throbbing huff of a laugh. “This intelligence relies on a notebook? An antiquated physical recording of data? I’m sorry, Captain, but Bracken gave me the impression you had more than a flimsy sheet of paper to support your hypothesis.”
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