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Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1

Page 8

by Scott Bartlett


  After that the marines grew quiet, as their shuttle drew closer to the planet. His story had sobered them—he understood why. People saw the Gok as brutes, and it was hard to imagine a Kaithian beating one so handily. Husher would have had trouble imagining it too, if he hadn’t witnessed it for himself.

  Caine broke the silence. “We’re playing this one by UHF regs, for once. The Fleet strictly forbids mentally linking with Kaithe, and I think they might be onto something there. There will be no linking until the situation is stable, and I won’t consider it stable until we’re back on the Providence with a single Kaithian under heavy guard. Husher, you’re doing the talking once we’re down there. You’re our xenodiplomat.” The sergeant squinted at him. “Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

  He laughed, and a few of the others chuckled, which alleviated the tension in the shuttle a little. A couple minutes later, the pilot shouted: “Brace for entry into the atmosphere.”

  “Okay, Skids,” Caine yelled back. “Engage active sensors, and take us down near one of their cities. Make sure we don’t torch some farmer’s field, okay?”

  Husher decided not to risk damaging morale any further by pointing out that it might prove impossible to resist linking with the Kaithe. Their abilities grew stronger the more of them were gathered in one place, and if they wanted to link with the humans on their home planet, which held billions of Kaithe, they could almost certainly do it.

  The shuttle touched down on the surface, and Caine ordered two marines to stay with Skids, to secure their ride home. Then they left to march across rolling fields of unblemished green, which were untouched by agriculture or even traffic.

  On the horizon, a settlement shimmered in the sun, and so after a final weapons check the marines started toward it, deployed by Caine in a wedge formation that would allow them to respond to a threat from any direction. She also sent a squad out roaming, led by Wahlburg, to warn them of anyone approaching.

  As Husher marched forward, his gun at the ready, an image popped into his mind. It took him a moment to realize he was seeing the marine formation from side-on, through towering emerald grass. The vision came packed with strong emotions. Resentment. Violation.

  That’s not my thought, is it?

  “Marines, prepare to answer a threat from three o’clock!” he screamed, and the others had barely begun to respond when the Kaithe struck from where they’d been lying in wait, rushing out of the grass and closing with the marines in under a second.

  Husher fought the urge to vomit as one of the Kaithe used the thick tail that sprouted from the back of its head to grab a marine by the neck, crushing his windpipe and letting him drop lifelessly to the ground.

  It turned toward Husher, and even after he put a round into its chest, it continued to stagger forward.

  Chapter 23

  Strange Diplomacy

  More Kaithe emerged from the tall grass, charging the marines, and Husher took out as many as he could, the assault rifle alive in his hands. They sure can take a beating. Most of them took at least two rounds before they faltered at all.

  The aliens’ childlike quality made their savagery even more unsettling. Seeing those youthful faces bunched up in rage, and witnessing the power their small frames could unleash…it would send shivers down the spine of the most hardened marine.

  As the Kaithe continued their attack, Husher was beset by powerful emotions that came from elsewhere. He felt rage at the trespassing humans, at his own species, paired with a burning desire to slaughter them all.

  A gruesome image filled his mind’s eye: the entire contingent of marines strewn across the ground, mangled and motionless. Worst of all was the sense of rightness that accompanied the vision. For violating the Kaithe’s cherished solitude, the humans did deserve death.

  This psychic assault proved almost as debilitating as the Kaithe’s physical efforts, and Husher caught himself shaking his head to clear it. Focus on the engagement. Don’t think, just shoot.

  A marine went down a few meters away from him, torn apart by two of the Kaithe, their compact muscles rippling under blue-white skin. Even having witnessed one of them defeat a Gok, Husher marveled at their strength.

  Still, many more Kaithe died than marines. Their lack of weaponry put them at a disadvantage.

  “Regroup,” Caine shouted as the last Kaithian fell. She pointed in the direction opposite the enemy attack angle. “Make for that hill in staggered column formation, leaving ample room for firing lanes!”

  The marines quickly formed up and made for the hill. The speed with which they regained their bearings spoke well of their training.

  “They caught us with our pants down, but there’s no reason for us to lose anyone else,” Caine went on. “They’re unarmed, for God’s sake. We should win any more engagements handily.”

  They took the shallow hill, distributing themselves at various altitudes to cover multiple firing lanes. Having heard the shooting, Wahlburg soon returned with his squad, joining them on the hill and augmenting their ranks.

  “Look, there.” Husher pointed. The new altitude allowed him to spot several disturbances in the sea of grass. “That’s got to be more of them approaching.”

  “From the other side, too!” someone shouted.

  Husher spun around and saw Kaithe pouring out of a hidden hollow in the ground.

  “There’s a third group approaching from the city,” Caine said, her tone grim.

  There are too many of them.

  “We should contact the Providence for backup,” Davies said.

  The sergeant shook her head. “There’s no way they’d get here in time.”

  “Then let’s retreat to the shuttle!”

  “No. They’re too fast. They’d decimate us from behind. Better to keep the high ground. Settle in, marines. Don’t start shooting until my mark.”

  The sergeant waited for longer than Husher would have—past the point where the Kaithe were in range. He could only assume she wanted to conserve their limited ammo by ensuring fewer misses, but the extra seconds made his throat constrict.

  He wasn’t alone. One of the marines fired before Caine spoke—a jumpy finger, no doubt.

  “Holloway!” Caine barked.

  “Sorry, Sarge.”

  “Shut up. Fire! Fire now!”

  The air filled with the thunder of gunfire. Several Kaithe went down right away, but their fellows leapt over the bodies, undeterred.

  Once again, Husher’s head filled with the aliens’ wrath, and he noticed his shooting getting sloppy. Even when one target went down, he continued firing into the space where it had been.

  Get a grip. This is unacceptable.

  But he noticed many of the other marines succumbing to the psychic assault as well, despite their greater combat experience. Of course, nobody here would have encountered anything like this before. The marine who’d fired prematurely dropped his gun altogether and clutched his head.

  The Kaithe would soon reach the hill.

  Husher lost consciousness for several moments, or so he assumed, anyway—the Kaithe were at the bottom of the hill now, and he had no memory of them crossing the remaining distance.

  He stared dumbly as one of them used its head-tail to propel itself into Davies, knocking her to the ground. It held a stone in one hand, which it used to cave in her forehead in a spray of blood. The alien’s tiny mouth hung open in a silent battle cry.

  Husher’s arms felt heavy as he raised his gun, and when he fired, the gunshots sounded muted. Davies’s killer went down.

  Then something made him turn around.

  Two Kaithe had reached the crest of the hill to confront Caine, who gripped her combat knife in one hand and her pistol in the other. When one of her assailants darted forward, she sunk the blade into its stomach, causing it to emit a piercing screech and pull backward.

  Husher put a round into the other one’s head, sending it crashing to the ground. But the wounded Kaithian rallied quickly. It surged fo
rward, ignoring Caine’s knife. Even as she stabbed it again, the alien wrapped its tail around her neck.

  Do I shoot? He feared hitting Caine, but she only had seconds to live, if that. Husher pulled the trigger.

  The burst entered the Kaithian’s back, which took it down but didn’t loosen its grip on Caine’s neck. Instead, its tail constricted, accompanied by the crunch of bone and cartilage.

  Screaming, Husher drew his own knife and rushed forward, driving it into the thing’s blue-white back. It twisted around, unraveling its tail, and he drove the knife in again. That did it. The Kaithian went limp.

  Husher knelt next to Caine, feeling her neck for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  New emotions flooded his chest. These belonged to him alone, and they crowded out those of the Kaithe. Regret. Remorse. And yes, a lot of anger. The strength of his reaction to Caine’s death surprised him, and he closed her staring eyes with his fingertips, her eyelids soft against his skin.

  He stood up, looking around. They’d taken out all of the Kaithian attackers. More will come.

  “I’m taking charge,” he called to the others. “We’ve bought ourselves some breathing room, but clearly these Kaithe are berserkers. We’re double-timing it back to the shuttle. Anyone who can’t walk will be carried. We’ll have to leave the dead behind.”

  Before he left the hill, Caine’s still form held his attention a moment longer. With her eyes closed, she looked like she was only sleeping.

  “Let’s go. Maintain a defensive perimeter around those carrying the wounded and keep your eyes peeled for the enemy.” Scanning the horizon for the next wave of Kaithe, he strode down the hill.

  The marine named Holloway, who somehow still lived, caught up with Husher, his eyes wide. “I thought the Kaithe were isolationists because they hate war,” he said.

  “So did I. So does the Fleet. Looks like everything we thought we knew about them was wrong.”

  Ryerson marched nearby, and he gave a bitter chuckle. “Darkstream’s gonna love this. Two wars at once? It’s gonna be a bonanza for them.”

  “Darkstream may have already bitten off more than it can chew.”

  They’d nearly reached the shuttle when a single Kaithian rose out of a depression in the ground. Within seconds, it had eleven guns pointing at it.

  “Hold your fire,” Husher said. “I think it has children with it.”

  “Who cares?” Ryerson muttered, and Husher silenced him with a glare.

  The alien walked toward them haltingly, obviously uncertain of itself. It held a swaddled bundle in each arm. “Please,” it said, its voice quavering.

  “Please what?” Husher snapped. “We just lost half our people and we don’t feel very positively about Kaithe right now. State your intentions and make it quick.”

  “Take me with you. We are only permitted one offspring, but I have had twins. If you leave us here, my government will kill one of them under our population laws.”

  “God damn it.” How had the Kaithe concealed how awful they were for so long?

  “You can’t be considering this,” Ryerson said. “It’s probably a trap. Or a delaying tactic, so its comrades can catch up to us.”

  Husher hesitated for a few seconds. Then he shook his head. “I’m not willing to live with the possibility that I condemned a baby to die.”

  “They just killed half of us!”

  “She didn’t. Other Kaithe did. Let’s not start painting entire species with the same brush.” He turned back to the Kaithian. “We’re going to be watching you carefully, so don’t try anything you’ll regret.”

  The alien bowed. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  As she spoke the last word, Husher noticed that he couldn’t make out her face very well. In fact, her whole frame had become blurry.

  No—the entire world. Everything grew indistinct, fuzzy around the edges. Then a piercing light made him squint. He realized he was lying on his back, staring up at the sun.

  He sat up and saw the other marines lying on the ground around him, some of them beginning to stir. Their shuttle sat a few meters away.

  Caine lay next to him, and when he touched her arm she opened her eyes. “Husher,” she murmured, sounding groggy. “What happened? I—I died. Oh my God. I was dead.”

  She sat up, and her gaze drifted past him. Her eyes widened, and suddenly she was on her feet and sighting down her rifle.

  He looked, and his breath caught in his throat. They were completely surrounded by Kaithe.

  Chapter 24

  Ocharium Barrier

  “Please don’t shoot,” one of the Kaithe called to them in a strong, clear voice. When Husher looked, he recognized her as the mother who’d pleaded with him for the life of her twins.

  Do the babies even exist?

  “We understand you’re distraught,” the alien continued, raising her arms, “and we’ve erected barriers for our protection. They will deflect your Ocharium-laced bullets should you fire them at us, and you will risk harming yourselves.”

  None of the marines lowered their weapons. “What did you do to us?” Caine shouted, aiming her pistol at the Kaithian who’d spoken.

  “We tested you. As I know you are aware, our collective neural net is strongest here. Strong enough to simulate reality convincingly. We used such a simulation to determine whether you’re worthy of our help.”

  Caine shook her head. “I watched you slaughter my soldiers. You killed me. Even if it wasn’t real, how can you expect us to trust you after making us live through that?”

  “I don’t expect you to trust us, Sergeant Caine. Indeed, distrust will serve the Providence and her crew well in the struggle to come. Stray too far from it, and you will perish.”

  Husher lowered his weapon to the ground and left it there, striding toward the Kaithian until they stood inches apart. He reached out with his right hand, and it met with a hard, invisible barrier just before it reached the alien’s face. She didn’t flinch.

  “It stops Ocharium, First Lieutenant Husher. Including the Ocharium in your cells.”

  His hand still rested on the barrier, which felt cool to the touch. “How much of the vision was true? Does your government murder children?”

  “We ceased biological reproduction millennia ago.”

  “What about artificial reproduction?”

  “No one gets murdered, First Lieutenant. I’ll say nothing else about our capabilities. You’ve come seeking our aid, and we’ve elected to give it. But nothing more.”

  “Step away from it, Husher,” Caine said from behind him.

  He turned to see the sergeant with her gun pointed straight at him. “Sergeant?”

  “Move aside and I’ll end it.”

  “No, Sergeant Caine.”

  “I’m giving you a direct order. I have been given command of this marine contingent and you will do as I say.”

  “And I’m pulling rank on you. I’m sorry, Sergeant, but the captain’s already played out his hand, here. If we don’t accept the Kaithe’s help we might as well be dead in the water.”

  Caine marched closer, until she was on the edge of the group of marines, many of who eyed her warily. “They aren’t going to help us. Don’t you get it? We’re still in their simulation! Get out of the way!”

  “They’ve erected an Ocharium barrier, Sergeant. I can feel it. Even if I move, you’ll only hurt those under your command.”

  “No. They’re still messing with your head. If we buy into their lies, we’ll be stuck here forever.” With that, Caine swung her gun around and aimed at another Kaithian, who showed no sign of distress.

  She pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 25

  One Thing at a Time

  At least the Kaithe understand the need to get this done quickly.

  The aliens had volunteered twenty of their species to come aboard the Providence to peek into the minds of the crew, and Keyes had given Husher the job of organizing the ship’s marines into teams who wou
ld escort individual Kaithians through the ship.

  Over eight thousand crewmembers worked aboard the supercarrier, and so he gave each alien a list with four hundred names on it, give or take.

  To save time, he’d tried to go by department, but in truth it was almost impossible to predict where individuals would be at any given time. Not to mention, the process would involve waking several people from their bunks.

  It promised to take a while, and keeping it quiet seemed out of the question. The traitors will likely know they’ve been found out long before we can do anything about them.

  “Help your Kaithian to the best of your ability,” he told the last team of marines. “If anyone drags their heels or withholds useful information, the captain will hear about it.”

  He saw the confusion that clouded their eyes. None of them knew the purpose of escorting an alien around the Providence and introducing it to four hundred crewmembers.

  But none of them questioned their orders, either. They’re good soldiers.

  The only marines he’d refrained from sending around with the Kaithe were those who’d been on the mission. Many of them still felt deeply resentful toward the strange aliens, and with the captain’s go-ahead Husher had ordered them quarantined from the rest of the crew to avoid compromising the current operation.

  All but Private First Class Ryerson and Sergeant Caine, who were confined to sick bay.

  Husher left Hangar Deck B to join the flow of crewmembers in the ship’s corridors. Protocol required that everyone maintain a measured pace, given that the narrow corridors only allowed single-file in either direction, but even so Husher wished those in front of him would move faster.

  He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency that had plagued him ever since the first Winger attack. It took the form of a lump in his throat that never went way.

  Thousands are dying as we float here in space. Maybe millions. We need to get moving. We need to find a way to end this war.

  At last, he reached the captain’s office and palmed the buzzer. The hatch lock disengaged with a click, and he pushed it open.

 

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