The Vampires of Antyllus

by Michael E. Gonzales

  "With coms down," Kathy observed, "they're sending a messenger to New Roanoke to report to Wilmington. They'll tell him Dave and I were in the clinic, he'll know we saw all we needed to see to expose the operation, he'll conclude we acquired other evidence maintained in there…and, of course, he'll know we've recorded it all in our memories. Wilmington will try everything to stop us from reaching the general with this intel. We are now their primary targets."

  Le'ha came down from behind the rock, her eyes following the aircraft. Her face was soaked with tears and blood ran down from her hair where she had been pulling it out. She stood next to Kathy and drew herself up to her full height. She looked down at Kathy and spoke slowly, "Disagreements of old must be gone. You and I are sisters now, united in our life's duty to avenge the death of the man we both loved."

  Kathy opened her mouth to protest the notion that she was in love with Dave…but stopped. After a moment's pause, she replied, "All right, sister, we can avenge his death and aid both our peoples by simply getting back to the metal city so we can tell our general what we saw in there. Many of our enemies will try to stop us."

  "It is our mission now." Le'ha noted, and stepped off toward the north. Kathy and Zolna followed. Kathy had never felt so low, and oddly alone. She felt a sense of abandonment, and as the hours of their march passed, she became convinced that she should have died and he lived. She had allowed him to lead too much, and not follow her orders. He would be standing here now if she had simply done her job and led rather than followed. She concluded his death was her fault.

  ○O○

  Dave's eyes opened and he looked around. He was in a room not unlike a barracks or a hospital room. He was sure he had died, but here he was.

  He tried to sit up, but was restrained by heavy metal bands at his forehead, wrists, waist, and ankles. His movement started a low intermittent tone and an attendant stuck his head into the room then left, closing the door behind him. It was then that Dave noticed that the skin of his chest had been cut in an "X" and the flaps folded open. His protective chest shielding had been removed, fully exposing the delicate components housed inside, among them the heart of his existence, his G-buc.

  Above his open chest was a machine that resembled an old-fashioned X-ray imaging device. It was pointed directly at his G-buc.

  The door opened and in walked two armed guards. Dave noted they were not mercs, but IIEA security personnel. With them came a lab coat, and a fourth figure, whom he recognized. Above his head, the identifier read, IIEA – CYB – 238 – Wilmington, Richard D. - Administration.

  Wilmington walked up next to Dave's side. "Hello, Dave. Welcome back to New Roanoke," he smirked in his thick transatlantic accent.

  "Hi ya, Dick, how's tricks?" Dave emulated a line from an old movie.

  "The name is Richard."

  "Oh, sorry, do you go by Rich or Rick?"

  “You will call me Mister Wilmington.”

  "Well, thanks for coming. No flowers?"

  Wilmington smiled. "We are all very impressed with the many redundant security measures you have created to prevent us from downloading your memory."

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome. Nevertheless, I want to know what other SUBs, besides Lieutenant Colonel Selina, were with you—and what exactly you stole from my clinic," Wilmington went on, with no hint of levity in his voice.

  "I'm looking at my chronometer here, Richard, and I see that only eleven hours have passed since I was bled dry of power. How is that possible? I know for a fact that when a G-buc's power falls below twenty percent, it takes at least twenty-four hours to recharge."

  "That is very true, Dave. But we did not recharge you. Our scientific team wished to perform a little experiment. We replaced your drained G-buc with a fully charged one, and in only four hours you became operational! I know, amazing, right? We had dozens of almost new G-bucs to choose from. Since the general started his little mutiny, SUB parts are lying about everywhere."

  "What?"

  "Oh, of course you don't know, do you? The general started a mutiny. He convinced all those poor gullible soldiers under his command to follow him blindly in his bid to take command away from the one man appointed by the IIEA to administrate the colony. He's power mad, you know, like all Germans. His little mutiny has thus far cost the lives of 1,500 civilians, 118 SUBs, and eighty-two of his bio soldiers. Oh, yes, he throws the SUBs into battle first, uses them as cannon fodder. His actions are criminal. He's obviously lost his mind.

  "And, of course, he will not listen to reason. Mad men never do. Now that you know the situation here, I ask you again, who was with you in the clinic and what exactly did you record while there?"

  "I want to talk to the general."

  "I told you he will not see reason."

  "Let me talk to him. A mad man's words will usually betray him."

  Wilmington stood there a moment as he made a decision. "I thought you might be difficult, based on your misplaced loyalty to a fellow uniformed Neanderthal. How can you lay here unmoved by the wanton destruction and loss of life Steinherz is responsible for?" He then reached up and tapped the odd machine suspended above Dave's G-buc. "This machine produces an intense and focused EMP, an Electromagnetic Pulse, that will fry your brand new and unshielded graphene based ultracapacitor. It will happen slowly, and again you'll feel every remaining moment of your life ebbing away, this time permanently. I ask one last time. Who was with you and what exactly did you steal from the clinic?"

  Dave made no response. Wilmington snapped his fingers and the lab coat moved forward. Wilmington turned to him, "Just as we discussed, Doctor. And if he should change his mind…stop. And in case you're thinking of playing the hero, old man, these two soldiers will be watching you." He looked again at Dave. "Live or die, it is in your hands now." With that, Wilmington stormed out of the room.

  The doctor, a wild haired fellow about fifty years of age, walked up and began to adjust the machine. "I'm sorry, Major," he commented. "You see how things are. It's either you or me. As I finish my setting here, let me correct something Mr. Wilmington said. This is not technically an EMP generator; it produces what we call an NNEMP, or non-nuclear electromagnetic pulse. Sadly, it will have the same effect upon you.

  "We'll be using what's called an ultra-short pulse, which is nothing more than an electromagnetic pulse whose time duration is of the order of a femtosecond. Such pulses have a broadband optical spectrum, and are created by mode-lock oscillators. They are commonly referred to as ultrafast events. They are characterized by a high peak intensity or more correctly, irradiance that usually leads to nonlinear interactions in various materials, like those in your G-buc, and even air…which I find interesting. This is why there is no sensor packet in this area for Indra. Do you understand?"

  The doctor seemed nervous and kept glancing over his shoulder at the two soldiers.

  "This device was used for micro-machining," the doctor continued, "but Mr. Wilmington had it moved here for…well, for other purposes."

  The doctor turned loose of the machine, stepped back, and looked at the two guards.

  "I should think Wilmington is gone by now," he said.

  Then the soldier nearest the door stepped forward and closed it.

  "What's this?" the other man asked.

  "It's murder," the doctor replied, getting his attention.

  The soldier who had closed the door moved quickly up behind the other and broke his neck with one fluid motion. As the body slumped to the floor, the man who killed him reached down and grabbed Dave's breast plate, and handed it to the doctor. "Hurry up, Doc," he urged. "Get him back together and let's get the hell out of here." He then looked down at Dave, "Major Mitchel, General Steinherz sends his compliments. And by the way, those casualty figures quoted to you are a bunch-a-crap."

  "Just who are you, soldier?" Dave asked.

  "First Lieutenant Joe Billen, late of the United States Marine Corps, at your service, sir."

  "Ar
e you a SUB or a bio?" Dave asked as the doctor sealed up the skin of his chest with a wand that produced a bright blue light.

  "I'm a gas pumper sir; please don't hold it against me."

  "Ha, LT, you are my new best friend!"

  "You better count the Doc, here, as your buddy as well…couldn't have done it without him."

  "I'm Doctor Alfred Lester," the lab coat offered, "and I'm coming with you."

  Dave rose and closed up his uniform. "Thanks a ton, Doctor," Dave said, then turned to the lieutenant. "You know how to get out of here?"

  "Out this door and turn right to the first hallway on the right then the first door on the left. I'll take point."

  "Okay," Dave replied. "Doctor, you follow the lieutenant and I'll be right behind you. Let's go."

  "Sir," the lieutenant reached down and picked up the dead man's rifle and offered it to Dave who accepted it with a nod.

  The LT checked the hallway, then all three busted out following his lead. Quickly, they negotiated the path the LT had described and were soon standing at the first door on the left. The lieutenant opened it and they entered a long narrow tunnel. It was about a meter wide and just over two tall. The walls and ceiling were covered with pipes and conduit. Steam was rising up from vents located near the floor every two meters. The passage was dimly lit.

  "What is this?" Dr. Lester asked with a gasp.

  "This is an excess heat extraction conduit for the water recovery system," the lieutenant responded.

  "Follow me," the LT whispered and took off down the tunnel. The doctor hesitated. Dave gave him a gentle push and they started trotting after the LT.

  The doctor was slowing and looking anxiously about. "What's the matter Doctor, getting tired?" Dave asked.

  "Oh, my God!" The doctor's voice grew louder with each word. "Get me out of here! I can't do this!"

  "Dammit, Doc, Keep your voice down. What's the matter?"

  "I have claustrophobia," he gasped.

  "Okay, Doctor, just calm down and remember this place is huge, comparatively speaking.”

  "Compared to what?"

  "A coffin. Now, keep quiet and just put one foot in front of the other."

  The doctor turned, took a deep breath, and started moving. Dave stayed right behind him with one hand on his shoulder.

  It was, of course, Dave who first noticed the difference. Some of the misty steam was remaining close to the floor. Dave switched his vision to IR, and that's when he saw it. The warm steam was rising quickly toward the ceiling. But there was another thicker, heavier mist that hugged the floor and crept up the walls.

  "Gas!" Dave shouted loud enough for the lieutenant to hear him. The LT instantly halted, stopped breathing, and then donned his respirator.

  "What? What is it?" The doctor was panicking, which, of course, meant he was breathing fast and heavy. He very quickly collapsed. Dave checked his pulse. "He's alive," he reported to the LT.

  "Yes, sir, it's PS 768. It'll knock him out for several hours. They must have heard him hollering."

  Dave bent down and picked him up. "Keep going!" Dave ordered, and they continued running. "Well, they didn't want to kill us if they were using PS 768."

  "No, sir, that's not why. We are close to a room designed for the study of the planet's animal life. The gas was designed to stop any escaping specimens. Besides, they knew this would not affect you. They unleashed the gas to stop us from assisting you any further. Come on, it's not much farther."

  They continued to jog down the passage for another seventy meters. They moved much slower now as Dave did not want to smack Doctor Lester's head into the wall.

  At last, the LT stopped and began to examine the floor. The only thing Dave noticed was the presence of a small drain in the middle of the passage.

  "Right here, sir," the LT stated. "Can you give me a hand?"

  "What needs to be done here?" Dave asked, setting the doctor down.

  "See this expansion joint in the concrete floor? We need to raise it enough to get the muzzle of a weapon under it, then grab it and lift it."

  "Just stand back." Dave reached down, grabbed the floor at the crack and lifted. A section of the floor, one by two meters, with the drain in its center, lifted up.

  "Damn sir!" the LT did not appear to know much about SUBs.

  "Get the doctor," Dave directed. As the LT and his cargo slid into the opening, Dave heard the sound of several booted feet running his way from both directions. He climbed down and closed the floor panel just as the boots arrived.

  In the tunnel below, the two CDF officers held their weapons at the ready as they watched the floor above. The voices were easy to hear, "Where da hell are day?"

  "Munsing, you dumb bastard…you sent us ta da wrong door!"

  "Bullshit, look at my PDA!"

  "Well, day ain't here!"

  "Wilmington is gonna dock us a month's pay!"

  "Like hell!"

  As the gentlemen continued to discuss their potential lost salary, Dave scooped up the doctor and the three headed down the tunnel away from the scene of the debate.

  Some distance on, the lieutenant turned on a small LED flashlight mounted to the business end of his weapon. Not that Dave needed the light. He had been marveling at the passage they were in. It was a clean, dry tube that had now opened up to eight meters in diameter. He could detect that it sloped down slightly. "What is this?" he asked, his voice echoing along with their footfalls.

  "Sir, when they first built New Roanoke they caught all the rain water and funneled it down through a system of pipes to a huge cistern. From there, it was purified for use by humans. Not long afterward, they discovered a natural aquifer almost directly under the city. It constantly renews itself, and once purified it's ready for our consumption. So, this system was closed off and forgotten, except by us. The CDF use these pipes to get anywhere we want to under the city, unseen by Indra."

  Up ahead, Dave saw an area where the wall had been cut open and a great deal of dirt had spilled into the tunnel. This was a place where the CDF had dug a hole and connected two tunnels. They traveled about a hundred meters to another concrete tube and turned to their left. They trotted almost four kilometers to a place where a hole had been cut in the ceiling. The LT called up and a face appeared. A rope ladder was lowered.

  The lieutenant informed the face above that they had an unconscious man and a harness was also lowered.

  Ten minutes later, they were all in a large crowded room with a huge picture window along one wall that looked outside toward southeast. CDF soldiers were everywhere moving logistics in and stacking them in neat piles. The doctor was carried off to the infirmary, and Dave was saying goodbye to his rescuer.

  "Thanks again, Lieutenant."

  "My privilege, Major. If you ever need some help sir, my name is Joe Billen."

  Turning around, Dave came face to face with LTC Fisher, the CDF's Executive Officer.

  "Hello, Dave." Fisher offered his hand. "Welcome back." Then, in a whisper he added, "Let's go into our debriefing room over here."

  The debriefing room was a small abandoned office just off the main room. This office was devoid of furniture except for a few folding chairs and an inoperative wall mounted computer terminal.

  "Have a seat," the XO offered.

  Dave sat down and the XO pulled up a chair immediately across from him.

  "Dave, last we heard you'd been taken prisoner by the Umarraw."

  "Well, sir, I was their guest, and I learned a lot. They call themselves the E'lawvat E'meset—they treated me quite well. They wanted to talk."

  "Yeah, we got that report from Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell."

  "Cassie and Mitch? So, they and Webster made it back? Outstanding!"

  "I'm afraid not. Sergeant Webster was killed just outside the city."

  "Oh, no," Dave moaned, and slowly lowered his head.

  "First time you've lost someone in action, Major?"

  Dave jerked his head up and shot the XO a lo
ok that would have killed had his eyes been bayonets. "No, sir, it is not. That doesn't make it any easier."

  "I'm sorry. I've not seen action myself, but I have lost friends in Oceania."

  "When can I see Cassie and Mitch?"

  "As soon as we're done here, first tell me what happened after you were captured." The XO took out his COMde off his belt and turned it to record.

  Dave told the entire story of his encounter with the E'lawvat E'meset. He told him of Le'ha, of their meeting up with Lieutenant Colonel Selina and their raid on the clinic. He did not know why, but he felt an impulse to withhold the story of the fish, the great alien ship and its unique occupants. Interestingly, Fisher didn't ask him about it. Perhaps the XO didn't know.

  "So right now, you contain all the evidence inside your, ah—"

  "My mind," Dave finished the thought.

  "Right," the XO went on. "Then you need to be safe guarded until we get that data downloaded. You'd better stay here until I've had a chance to brief the general. I'll send a couple of guards."

  "Sir, that won't be necessary, just get me a rifle."

  "The data in your head is far too important. Please, just remain here where you're safe. You're deep inside the CDF zone and surrounded by CDF soldiers." The XO rose and departed.

  Dave got up and walked over to the window. It was raining. Le'ha, Zolna, and Kathy were out there somewhere; at least, he hoped they were. Did Kathy know he'd made it? He tried to raise her on his COMde, but it didn't work. He reviewed several images of her face in his mind as he stood there looking outside.

  A gust of wind blew a curtain of rain against the window. He looked out at the forest of black, blue, and purple. The overcast sky was always very dark here on Antyllus because of the weak light of the red dwarf.

  Dave turned away from the window and he looked around the room. On the opposite wall, a mirror had been smashed and Indra's sensor array destroyed. Then his eyes fell on the wall-mounted computer. He went to it and turned it on. Instantly, the holographic monitor reported no connectivity to the intranet. He was about to turn it off when he noticed a bank of SD ports. Dave went back into the room with the hole in the floor and the growing piles of logistics. There was a master sergeant standing to his right, making notations on his PDA.