“Mitch, go first,” Riley ordered. “I’ll cover you.”
“No way, you’re injured,” Jason snapped. “You go first. I’ve got a surprise for the bugs. I know what I’m doing.”
She hesitated, but decided to trust him. Besides, there could be another squad waiting in ambush ahead, and in that case it made sense for her to take point. She dashed into the fissure.
Jason and Mitch opened fire on their pursuers with Wells-9 blasters.
“Seriously?” Riley exclaimed. “You brought pistols to a rifle fight?”
“Mitch, retreat,” Jason ordered. “I’m covering.”
The young flyboy obeyed and dashed after Riley. Plasma bolts pounded the wall behind him, causing it to crack.
“Move, the wall is gonna collapse!” Riley yelled.
A block of ice detached itself and crashed down, separating Jason from his companions. Mitch turned around and started climbing the pile of ice chunks.
“Mitch, come back!” Riley called to him, to no avail.
The young flyboy reached the top of the pile and fired at the Biozi troopers.
There was a thunderous rumble, and the ground quaked. Echolocation implants indicated a part of the ceiling was collapsing. Her sensors also picked up residual energy signatures consistent with an anti-personnel mine detonation. That was the surprise Jason had referred to.
She saw her companions on top of the pile of ice chunks, the jets from Jason’s thrust pack blazing in the dark. He grabbed Mitch and carried him to the ground.
“You set up a mine?” Riley yelled. “In an ice cave? The whole thing could have collapsed!”
“Better to be dead than fall into Biozi hands,” he replied, shutting down his thrust pack. “You said it yourself—we can’t survive a firefight with a black squad.” The cave grumbled, but the ceiling above them was not collapsing yet. Jason turned to Mitch. “C’mon, move it, soldier!”
Mitch slumped against the wall. A billow of smoke rose from a hole in his suit.
Jason examined the wound. “Hey buddy, you’ll be all right,” he said softly to the boy.
Jason was pulling a medical kit when Riley set her hand on his wrist. She said nothing, just shook her head to signify there was nothing Jason could do to save his comrade.
But Jason pushed her hand away, eased Mitch on the ground, and drew a laser syringe with a cardiac stimulator. “You’ll pull through, buddy. Stay with me, okay? Focus on my voice. Remember your birthday party? Remember how Emily fluttered her eyelashes at you? And you, noodle, did nothing about that…”
“Jason, stop,” Riley told him firmly.
Jason ignored her and said to Mitch, “Don’t worry, buddy, you have your whole life ahead of you.”
He was about to thrust a laser syringe into Mitch’s chest when Riley grabbed his wrist. He glared at her, an angry expression distorting his face.
“Snap out of it!” she shouted. “He’s gone. We can’t waste meds, and we must get out of here before more Biozi arrive. Otherwise his death would be in vain.”
“He’s just a kid!” he yelled back at her, as if Mitch’s death was her fault. “I can’t abandon him!”
“We were his age when we joined the ASF,” Riley reminded him, her voice now softer. “There’s nothing you can do, Jason. For him, the war is over.”
20
Subject Nine
Adrian decrypted and played the next video-log entry. Tenev breathed heavily, his gaze unfocused. It was apparent he’d been struggling with fatigue and sleep deprivation.
“It was so obvious,” he wheezed. “Why didn’t I see it earlier? The Taar’kuun have been spying on us for weeks, maybe months. Hiding right under our noses. Waiting for us to finish our project. Then strike. They sabotaged our cybernetwork and caused all those malfunctions we couldn’t explain. They unleashed our own creations on us, and they shut down the self-destruct. Now that half of our personnel has fled, and the other half is dead, they can take control of the facility. I still hope reinforcements will arrive from Neo, but they probably won’t get here in time. I need to take my stims, otherwise I’ll fall asleep and never wake up.”
Adrian turned to Okoro, who was monitoring security cams and sensor readings on a cyber-terminal. Nine screens showed the feeds from as many cams throughout the station. “Any movement? Any suspicious malfunctions?”
Okoro shook her head. “No, nothing. It’s like watching space dust gather.”
“I don’t like this. What are the Biozi waiting for?”
“Maybe they’re waiting for the hybrids to finish us off.”
“Or maybe they’re fooling us again. I hate being outsmarted.”
Adrian turned to the holo-screen of his portable nanocomputer. “Ria, let’s show the Biozi what the team Ad-Ria can do. Display the cybernetwork and highlight all terminals.”
The PA obeyed, and the 3D map of the facility lit up with a network of lines and glowing spheres representing terminals.
“Run a level-three diagnostic on all terminals and flag any suspicious activity. Check the deleted files log as well.”
“Seventy-nine unexplained entries detected,” Ria said.
“That’s a lot, but not unexpected for a facility of this size. It can be anything, maybe a glitch in a maintenance subroutine. Run a level-nine diagnostic on the unexplained entries that occurred within the last three standard days.”
While Ria was running the diagnostic, Adrian finished decrypting the video-log.
“Diagnostic completed,” Ria reported. “Eight entries cannot be explained. In each case, deleted files log indicates that an unidentified user has deleted files. According to the logs, those were temporary system files. They cannot be recovered.”
“That’s why no one bothered looking into this. Thousands of temporary files are deleted every day as part of routine network cleanup. The Taar’kuun must have used a stealthy drone to access a terminal, hack it, and delete access files. This unidentified user must have left a trace. When did the last suspicious deletion occur?”
“Two hours and fifteen minutes ago.”
“Right. Add an entry to the main system log that all humans are dead. Disable life sensors, but make it look like a hardware malfunction. Monitor all cybernetic activity. Alert me when someone tries to access the network.”
His trap set, Adrian resumed watching the video-log entries.
“One of the hybrids has died,” Tenev reported. “Her injuries were too severe. Yes, I can tell males and females apart, even though their reproductive organs have not retroformed yet. Females have slightly larger pelvises, consistent with our theory that the Jotnar were viviparous. I wonder what the other hybrids will do with the corpse. I observe them through a security cam in the basement. For now, they seem hesitant. They try to communicate with one another, but it’s difficult. They’ve lost their cephalic appendages for pheromone communication, and their tongue is no longer suited for the Taar’kuun language.”
“Unauthorized access detected,” Ria alerted Adrian. “The unidentified user is accessing the main network log.”
“Excellent. Sit back and watch.”
Adrian paused the video-log and focused on what was happening in the station. “Lieutenant, keep your eyes peeled,” he told Okoro. “We’ll have visitors soon.”
“I don’t see any signs of hostile presence,” she replied, her eyes dashing from one screen to another.
“Wait for it. They’re coming.”
A couple of minutes later, a dark figure appeared on one of Okoro’s screens, creeping through a corridor. Several others followed.
Okoro’s face tensed. “Black squads. I recognize their combat biosuits.”
“We’ll give them a hell of a welcome party,” Mortensen growled.
“Not so fast,” Adrian objected. “Let this play out.”
The Taar’kuun squad reached the entrance to the cryogenic chamber. They probably intended to reanimate the troopers frozen there. Adrian, Okoro, and Mortensen wa
tched them through a security cam.
The troopers’ plasma rifles jerked toward shadowy figures emerging from a corridor. There were three of them, geared in combat biosuits. Anatomical differences between them and the Taar’kuun were obvious. The hybrids were taller, and their head sported the distinctive triangular bone with three horns that prevented them from donning helmets. Instead they wore masks, probably crafted by hand from blaster-resistant materials.
They had no weapons other than bionic claws. As the structure of their wrists had changed, they could no longer use blasters as proficiently as humans or Taar’kuun.
The leader of the black squad barked a warning in Taar’kuun. Adrian heard it as the security cam had a mic. The hybrids stopped.
“This facility is now under TGS control,” the squad leader announced. “Bow before your superior.”
The hybrids hesitated, but slowly squatted in a sign of submission. Adrian held his breath. Would the proud Jotnar submit to their former masters?
“We must intervene,” Okoro said. “If they join forces, we’re done for.”
Adrian stopped her with a gesture. “Not yet. Just watch. Those three hybrids all have malformations. I suspect they’re subjects Six, Seven, and Eight. Failed experiments. Subject Nine is not among them.”
The black squad leader stepped toward the three hybrids, who here bowing to him. “Your true form will be restored, and you’ll have the privilege to serve the glorious Taar’kuun civilization again.”
A war cry resounded, and Subject Nine stepped from the shadows, his spine straight and his chin lifted.
“Jotnar not weak,” he shouted with a strong accent, struggling to pronounce Taar’kuun words. “Jotnar not die slave!”
The squad leader aimed at Subject Nine, but didn’t have time to squeeze the trigger. The claws of one of the hybrids thrust into his chest. The other hybrids pounced at the Taar’kuun troopers with such speed Adrian saw only blurs.
The room resonated with the booms of plasma rifles and the screeches of the Biozi. Adrian watched the fight with an uneasy fascination. Saying it was brutal would be an understatement. It was the expression of pure savagery. On both sides.
Black squad troopers had two bionic tails grafted onto their spine, and they used them with ruthless efficiency. One of the troopers was locked in a deadly dance with Subject Nine, his tails coiled around the arms of his opponent. Nine roared, slashed the tails with his claws, and clenched the Biozi’s helmet with both hands. The helmet cracked as Nine squeezed it, crushing his enemy’s head.
The hybrid Adrian identified as Subject Six was cornered by two troopers. Their tails lashed at him; he parried with his claws, but some of the attacks went through his defenses, and the venomous stings the tails carried pierced his suit.
Seven drove her forward horn into the abdomen of a trooper and thrust her head upward, ripping through his chest and exposing purple flesh. Her claws delivered the final blow.
Subject Eight had been hit by a plasma bolt in the flank. Such an injury would stop most humans, even bionics, but the hybrid was still fighting. He retreated in orderly fashion, defending himself against a trooper whose claws and tails lashed at him.
Another trooper attacked him from the back and plunged a sting into his wound. Eight cried with rage and pain, turned to the second trooper, and the first one took advantage of this distraction to stab him in the back.
Nine pounced on one of the troopers and mauled him to death. The last Taar’kuun retreated to the exit, his tails flailing in a complex defensive pattern.
“We must get the laser,” Mortensen said. “While the hybrids are distracted.”
Adrian didn’t like the idea of leaving the relative safety of Prof. Tenev’s office, but he had to agree with the sergeant. They couldn’t just sit and wait. If there was a chance to retake the facility, they had to try it.
“You know where the laser is?” he asked.
“I watched the footage from the cams and I saw a hybrid carrying the device to the basement,” Mortensen replied.
Adrian nodded. “Well, it’s better than nothing. Let’s go.”
“You’re staying here, doctor,” Okoro objected. “One of my squads—”
“No, we stay together,” he cut her short. “I’m safer with you, and I know how to use that laser better than you. No disrespect.”
The lieutenant pursed her lips, obviously unconvinced, but didn’t argue.
The hybrids killed the last trooper and disappeared, taking the body of their fallen comrade with them. It was Subject Eight.
The marines packed their gear and started toward the basement. Mortensen and his squad took point, while Okoro marched beside Adrian.
“You still have one video-log entry to watch,” Ria reminded him.
“I know, but I can’t get distracted now. Display the feeds from security cams A17, A18, D11, and D12.”
Four windows appeared at the corners of Adrian’s HUD, each showing the feed from a cam.
“Activate motion trackers,” Okoro ordered her marines.
“Those bastards are too fast even for trackers,” the tex muttered.
“Thanks for your input, specialist,” she said. “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”
“Their horns,” Adrian said.
Okoro turned to him. “What about them?”
“We can’t detect the hybrids because they wear biosuits that make them invisible to hyperspectral scanners,” Adrian elaborated. “But they can’t wear helmets because of their horns. We should be able to detect them even through walls by setting our scanners to twenty-four gigahertz.”
The lieutenant nodded and instructed the marines accordingly.
Mortensen’s squad reached the staircase leading to the basement. Elevators had been taken offline automatically as part of an emergency protocol. Human bodies littered the floor. As Adrian recognized some of his colleagues, geneticists he’d worked with on Olympica, he remembered Tenev’s words: “I am the killer.”
No, professor. DeCourt is the one to blame for this tragedy.
The squad crept downward, descending into cold, misty darkness. The distant hum of generators and other machinery was the only sound beside their steps.
“Watch out for traps,” Okoro whispered.
Two levels down, the glow from heavy machinery dispelled the dark. Adrian didn’t know if the hybrids had activated the machines in the basement, or if the personnel had forgotten to turn them off. One of those machines was pouring melted alloy into a large tank. The facility was located above a vein of iron ore and extracted metal to turn it into nanoalloy plates.
Mortensen and his squad went ahead in search of the laser, while the others stayed close to the stairs.
“No joy,” Mortensen reported.
“Run a full spectral sweep,” Okoro called.
A few seconds later, Mortensen said, “Sweep’s negative. No energy signatures.”
A heavy fog oozed from the air vents and crawled on the floor.
“Oh, I don’t like that,” Adrian muttered. “Looks like the Biozi fog of war. That could be a prelude to an attack. You should recall Mortensen and his squad.”
“Wait, I’ve got—” Mortenson started but was interrupted.
“Contact at fifty-five!” the tex shouted.
Something dark and fast smeared the fog. One of Okoro’s marines screamed. Simultaneously, another dark form smashed the grating of an air vent and pounced on the tex.
The air exploded with the rattle of marine’s blasters. The hybrids were so fast Adrian couldn’t follow their movements. They dashed from one marine to another, delivering deadly blows.
“Retreat!” Okoro yelled, discharging her carbine at the furtive shadows. “Formation iota-six!”
Adrian felt an arm grabbing him from behind and lifting him. His scream got lost in the racket of the battle. He didn’t have time to react or even draw his blaster. His shoulder hit a wall, then everything went dark as an irresistible force
pulled him into an air vent.
21
Deadly preconceptions
Jason could hear the growl of the storm as he ran with Riley through an ice cave. They were both recovering from recent injuries, and sustained physical effort was taking its toll. Jason was panting and feeling lightheaded, as his lungs struggled to keep his brain oxygenated.
“There’s an outpost…to the north,” Riley said, gulping air.
“The bugs’ve probably found it,” Jason replied. “Set an ambush.”
“No choice,” Riley insisted. “Will do a drone recon.”
She pulled a bot launcher from her backpack and shot a stealthy drone the size of a tennis ball. The bot dashed toward the outpost without a sound.
After a minute, she said, “I have visual on the outpost’s underground entrance. No hostile presence. No evidence of intrusion.”
They trekked to the outpost, struggling against gusts of wind. The door appeared at the end of a tunnel carved in ice. It opened automatically as the security system received their ID signal.
When Jason crossed the threshold, he removed his helmet and leaned against the wall. Warmth spread through his body in a gentle wave. Riley imitated him. He admired the harmony of her features, the purity of her blue eyes, and her platinum hair.
“O’Neil is gonna kill me,” he said with a smirk. “If the bugs don’t shoot me first. He told me not to take risks, and here I am. But if I had a do-over, I’d do it again. I wouldn’t abandon you. Never.”
She avoided eye contact, yet her face seemed more relaxed than usual. “I should thank you, but that would be premature. Our chances of surviving this planet are still low.” She drew a deep breath. “Let’s get to the control room.”
They took an elevator to the upper level. In the control room, blast-resistant shutters were closed due to the storm. Riley activated a terminal and displayed the feeds from external cams on eight screens. Four of them showed only blizzard, and the rest revealed nothing but empty ice caves.
“Well, it looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while,” Jason said, removing his gloves. “Let’s get ourselves comfortable and grab something to eat.”
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