Carnosaur Weekend (Kyler Knightly and Damon Cole Book 1)

by Garnett Elliott

  He reached across the table and pulled the container of Palladium 23 close. Tugging a boulder would've been easier. But here it was: the future of Continuity Inc., and hopefully, his ticket out of the brig when he returned. He made cheerful small-talk with Hyram while his left hand crept down and activated the recall beacon hidden in his belt.

  "What're your plans now?" Emma asked.

  "I'll be leaving soon," he said, truthfully. He wondered how the pair would react minutes from now, when Zygma particles suddenly subtracted him from their reality.

  A startled cry echoed just outside the boardroom. The door slammed inward, shouldered by Huxley. His exo-skeleton whirred with barely-restrained power as he stalked into the room, brandishing a sparking fusion cutter like a sword.

  The half-real face swiveled toward Kyler. When Huxley spoke, the calm, measured voice wasn't his own. "You've forced my hand."

  Ashurbanipal's voice.

  "Security!" Hyram bellowed, and launched himself in a flying tackle. The cutter flashed. Hyram Gose flopped apart in two cauterized pieces, separated at the torso. His black cape fluttered to the ground.

  Heedless, Emma charged in from the flank, fists raised. Huxley caught her with an exo-boosted open hand. She flew across the table and struck imitation paneling, her head making a squat indentation in the wood.

  "You weren't supposed to be here," said Ashurbanipal/Huxley. He closed the distance to Kyler's chair in two rapid strides. Up came the cutter for a downward swing.

  In his mind's eye Kyler saw it: the exact arc the fusion blade would travel. Precognition? He'd never had a vision while conscious before. But as the cutter descended, he knew where to leap aside. His own exo-legs gave him a burst of speed. The blade sliced his chair in half and sunk deep into the floor.

  Huxley uttered a very human grunt. He had difficulty pulling the cutter free. Kyler glanced past him to where Emma lay sprawled, her scalp cut and flowing, possibly dead. The image filled him with murderous resolve. He kicked out, the ball of his foot striking Huxley mid-thigh. Titanium rods protected the muscle, but the blow's force sent Huxley reeling backward into the table. He dropped his cutter. Without hesitation, Kyler scooped it up and thrust. The blade sheared through Huxley's ruby-iris lens in a shower of sparks, the bright tip protruding from the top of his metal-plated head. The cyborg's human lips contorted; his eye rolled back as he shook with uncontrollable spasms.

  Kyler dropped the cutter. He rushed to Emma and felt her wrist for a pulse. Strong. Her eyelids were already beginning to flicker open. High gravity made for thick skulls. He spared a glance at Hyram's smoking remains; not even ultra-tech medicine could repair that.

  Not much time left. He hurried around the table to where the container of Palladium 23 sat. It had to be in his hands when he traveled back, otherwise the trip had been for nothing.

  Out in the hallway a klaxon sounded.

  "He—he wanted an upgrade," Huxley said, his teeth chattering.

  By reflex, Kyler reached for the cutter. But Huxley was no longer a threat. He lay sprawled across the table, breathing in wracking convulsions. The wounded side of his head fizzled and sparked.

  "What did you say?"

  "Ashurbanipal … downloaded part of himself, into me. Took over. He wanted ROM chips from the future to upgrade himself." Huxley craned his head around to nod toward the proxy AIs, watching them with appalled looks on their digitized faces.

  "Why did he try to kill Damon?"

  "So that—" Huxley shook all over. He bit into his lower lip, drawing blood.

  "Never mind that. Where's your recall beacon?"

  The cyborg made a faint gesture toward his belt. Kyler reached over, found the switch and activated it.

  From the hallway came the tromping of boots. Long-barreled plasma rifles poked through the shattered door. Kyler saw a face peek in and blanch when it caught sight of Hyram.

  The air shimmered with blue-white motes. Time did an awkward stop-start, the security guards freezing for a moment, then spilling through the doorway. Freezing again.

  The backdrop of Caliban Four dissolved into cosmic static.

  * * *

  He did not lose consciousness during the jaunt back. Instead, he watched as the swirling motes reassembled themselves into a familiar tarp-shrouded set, complete with Zygma projectors, lights, and orange-garbed technicians. Damon stood with arms folded, his jaw set so firm the tendons on his neck bulged. Flanking him were two Continuity agents in black uniforms. Both had their sidearms drawn and pointing toward Kyler.

  Uh-oh. He looked down to see the container of Palladium 23 clenched between both hands. There was that, at least.

  "You're under arrest," Damon said.

  Ashurbanipal's voice broke in: "I recommend summary execution, as per the Continuity Inc. bylaws, section 6C. 'No personnel may interfere with a mission identified as Top Priority, under penalty of—"

  "Noted," Damon said.

  "Hold on a second." Kyler set the fuel down, slow, so as not to excite any trigger-fingers. His voice shaking, he narrated the events of his jaunt to Caliban Four, including Huxley's damning testimony.

  "You got any proof of this?" Damon asked. His tendons weren't bulging as much.

  "Any minute now, when Huxley shows up. He might be dead, but you can still check his processors for Ashurbanipal's influence."

  The overhead lights turned red. "I'm instituting a Code One Alert," Ashurbanipal announced. "All personnel to enter lockdown."

  "Override!" Damon yelled. "Priority omega aught delta. AI functions cease."

  The lights flickered back to normal. Ashurbanipal droned protest, but his voice died away.

  "Do you believe me now, uncle?" Kyler asked.

  Damon nodded, his lips curled in disgust. "The old AI, Sennacherib, pulled something similar. We hardwire them so they can't improve their intelligence, but they always try …"

  "What would be the point in killing you? Why not just have Huxley return once he'd stolen the ROM chips?"

  "That's simple enough. Without fuel, Continuity can't make any more jaunts. So no one can go back in time and try to undo Ashurbanipal's work."

  "We'll have to wipe his core."

  "Yeah, I'm afraid so. Maybe 'Hammurabi' or 'Nebuchadnezzar' will be different." Damon gave the container of Palladium 23 a playful kick. "Good work, that. For someone without formal field training or experience, you did well on your first jaunt."

  Kyler thought of Emma. "I had some help."

  "Well, after we sort all this mess out with the brass, I'll put you in for a promotion. Who knows? Maybe you and me could partner on a jaunt."

  "I'd like that, Uncle Damon. I'd like that very much."

  †

  From the BEAT to a PULP webzine …

  www.beattoapulp.com/webzine.html

  THE WORMS OF TERPSICHORE

  Raj's senses returned as the Astarte shuddered out of N-space. He lay sprawled for several minutes, his motor neurons refusing to fire properly. After the disorientation passed, he released the straps on his couch and floated up to the console. "Took you long enough," Thea said, already poring over the main display. Her bald head and long, attenuated limbs weren't the prettiest things to wake up to.

  "This is only my fourth jaunt, alright?" He despised professional Spacer smugness. "You able to locate the Sallust?"

  "I got her commo satellite. No landing beacon, though."

  On screen floated the blue planet Terpsichore Five. "Blue" didn't really do it justice. The atmosphere gleamed a bright turquoise, slashed with striations of lapis. Thea's thin fingers tapped a metallic flash in low orbit. The object magnified into a cylinder with the Sallust's registration stamped along its length.

  "Let's hail them," Raj said.

  "Already tried that while you were snoozing. No response—except for this."

  The screen blanked, replaced by a single word pulsing red: RHIZOMES.

  Raj frowned. "That's it?"

  "Set for an automatic
cycle." She adjusted the display and the satellite reappeared, this time with a bright yellow line descending to the planet's surface. "But I can locate where the Sallust landed by tracing the signal."

  "They send up a warning and shut their beacon off. It's like they don't want to be rescued."

  "What kind of warning is 'rhizomes'?"

  Raj didn't answer. He kicked off from the console and floated toward the Astarte's weapons locker.

  * * *

  Three months before Raj had been a Corpsman attached to the hundred and forty-first Line Defense Marines, fresh out of Basic and sweating for action. The action never came. Diplomatic talks between Separatists and local aristocracy had actually panned out. The hundred and forty-first was disbanded as part of the treaty. Frustrated, Raj transferred to Frontier Swift Response.

  He found his action.

  This was his second rescue mission partnered with Thea. He considered the Spacer uptight and annoyingly competent. On the plus side, their lack of sexual tension kept distractions to a minimum.

  "You've been over-educated in all that xeno crap," she said. "So stop being secretive and tell me what the warning means."

  They were strapping themselves into the cockpit of the Astarte's atmospheric lander.

  "What I think it means is hostile plant life. Terpsichore Five's got abundant water vapor, and the first survey of the planet was only a fly-by. That's why they sent the Sallust."

  Thea's thin lips curled. "Plants? You mean like spores or something?"

  "Bigger. 'Rhizomes' usually mean rootstalks, though I'll be damned if I can figure how that would pose a threat to the Sallust's crew."

  Thea snorted. "Killer carrots. They're not dangerous until you try to eat them."

  "Very funny."

  The lander disengaged from the Astarte's hull. It took only a brief firing of rockets for Thea to maneuver into Terpsichore Five's gravity well. The big blue planet reached up and grabbed them.

  "Lot of atmosphere," Thea said. "You might find this rough."

  The lander's hull flickered red, then orange. Raj grit his teeth. After an eternity of shaking and roaring, the craft slid into the upper stratosphere and began a transformation. Wings folded out from the sides, and above came the hiss of lift-bladders inflating. Soon, they were drifting down through dense clouds at a comfortable rate.

  "Not that the sensors on this thing are for shit," Thea said, "but I can't get much from the surface, other than it's solid. The whole planet's covered in fog."

  "You still got a line to the Sallust?"

  "Clear as crystal. Given our glide-path, I can put us down half a click away. A short walk."

  * * *

  The lander settled amidst whorls of white and gray.

  Atmospheric readings showed an oxygen concentration too high for comfortable breathing, chilly temperatures, and tolerable surface pressure. Gravity clocked in at a measly .7G, but even that gave Thea trouble as she wobbled like a baby chicken into the hold. Raj felt a flash of sympathy. Away from the void of space, she was out of her element.

  He offered to help her struggle into a hardsuit, but she waved him back. Once she had the thing on servos kicked in, helping her lift her own weight plus the extra burden of ceramic armor, her natural cockiness returned.

  "Why are we taking those?" she asked Raj, while he unlimbered a pair of flame-guns. "They look archaic."

  "Protocol. When you don't know what you're up against, try fire."

  He put on his own suit and checked the three auto-gurneys he'd loaded just before leaving the Astarte. They settled their helmets in place. Thea hit a switch and there was a sudden influx of cold air as the back hatch opened and a ramp extruded onto Terpsichore Five.

  "Ladies first," Raj said.

  Thea's servos whined as she hit the ramp. They stepped off into a light mist. Ten meters away rose columns of wind-worn black rock. Overhead, the bright star Terpsichore managed to glare down through the murk like a fuzzy eye. Her binary companion, a red dwarf, shone as a russet smudge on the horizon.

  "Gloomy," offered Thea.

  Raj nodded inside his helmet. The planet seemed a lot nicer from orbit.

  Something crunched underneath his boots. He kicked at the low-lying tendrils of fog, trying to get a look at the ground. The rock appeared brittle and porous. Possibly volcanic.

  "What's the matter?" Thea said.

  "Just watch your feet."

  "Here's the Sallust." A bright yellow arrow flickered on his helmet's visor, pointing downward at some distant spot in the fog. "You want to lead, seeing as how you're a big, tough marine?"

  "Technically, I'm Navy. Or was. But yeah, I'll take point."

  They got halfway to the rock columns, before a familiar click-and-whir echoed behind. Raj turned to see the auto-gurneys following them down the ramp, trotting on six pairs of articulated legs. He recalled the mule trains of Old Earth and suppressed a chuckle.

  * * *

  Narrow vales with indigo lichens clung to the sides.

  Clumps of what looked like petrified wood twisted upward in impossible spires.

  And always the fog-clouds swirled along the horizon, lit by the occasional flash of yellow lightning.

  The planet had a certain morbid beauty. Raj gave it that. But the fate of the Sallust's crew kept his feet moving. He didn't like to think of them huddled together in a darkened ship, all hope draining away as the life-support systems failed.

  "Movement," Thea called.

  A sensor pinged in Raj's helmet. He'd picked it up, too. Though antiquated by military standards, the hardsuits could track motion and body heat out to thirty meters.

  "You got a heading?" he asked.

  "Three o'clock. Should be beyond those rock-bushes." She gestured with her gun's barrel.

  Raj saw only mist. He dialed up the gain on the exterior receivers, hoping to hear sounds of human respiration, of footfalls. What he got instead chilled his guts. A liquid noise, the rasp of something semi-solid pouring across rock. His finger curled against the flame-gun's trigger. Amplified, Thea's heartbeat thundered in his ears.

  Then he saw it.

  His first impression: a mound of entrails, boiling through the fog toward them.

  At ten meters individual heads, or snouts, became visible. They swayed on fleshy stalks the color of old bone. Needle-sharp spikes extended and retracted along their glistening lengths.

  At eight meters the heads all reared up as one. Mouths gaped, their exhalations came out somewhere between a hiss and a full-throated roar.

  Raj had to shut off the suit's receivers to keep from being deafened. The creatures could have been screaming in horror for all he knew. Not that it mattered. He leveled his flame-gun. A jet of fuel whooshed out, ignited, and in the oxygen-rich atmosphere turned a blazing white. He directed the stream at his target. Where the flames touched, flesh instantly bubbled and turned black. Smoke rose in fat coils. The creatures thrashed like current was passing through them. Thea opened up, too, and in moments the whole mass was reduced to a cluster of charcoal snakes.

  He lowered the barrel. A strange exultation seized him. They'd journeyed to a faraway planet and killed something. "How's that for picking the right weapon?" he said, turning to face Thea.

  "Behind you!" Beneath the visor, he saw her eyes go wide. Her gun snapped up. Months of combat simulation told him what to do. He threw himself to the ground, just as Thea loosed a burst. The flame-lance passed over his back. He felt its kiss even through the ceramic plating. Something howled and made a noise like a water-bladder bursting. He rolled, twisting his gun into firing position.

  A length of worm writhed on the ground behind him. Thea's shot had severed it, but the rest of the body was nowhere to be seen.

  Raj let out a breath. "My sensor didn't go off. How'd it sneak up on us?"

  Thea could only shrug. She glanced around as if another one would come snaking out of the mist at any moment.

  Raj got to his feet. Up close, the worm wa
s about as big around as Thea's emaciated thigh. A trio of eight centimeter spikes, curved like tusks, quivered at odd angles from its flesh. Was this the 'rhizome' warning they'd received in orbit? Could this creature somehow be part plant?

  He doubted those spikes could do anything except shatter against armored suits, but he didn't want to find out.

  * * *

  Moving slower now, fingers on triggers, they at last came within sight of the Sallust. The ship's spherical hull appeared atop a ridgeline. Raj had to restrain himself from breaking into a run.

  He almost tripped on the man sprawled across his path.

  "Body," he called to Thea.

  The corpse wore a respirator and ship's coveralls, but no armor. A fatal mistake. He'd been gouged right through the abdomen, almost torn in two pieces by a worm-sized ragged hole. His entrails lay flopped around the wound's edges.

  "Look at that," Thea said. "The fungus …"

  Lichens had tried to crust over the intestines, but had turned gray and died back.

  "The biota here can kill us," Raj said, "but not digest us. A comforting thought."

  He motioned to the auto-gurneys behind them. One came stumping over and carefully lowered itself to the ground. Thea helped transfer the body. Finished, Raj looked at the remaining two gurneys and back up at the Sallust's looming bulk.

  * * *

  They stood outside the airlock.

  "Try hailing them one more time," Raj said.

  "Survey vessel Sallust, this is the crew of the Astarte. We are about to effect rescue. Open your airlock door, over."

  The receiver crackled in time with lightning discharges flickering in the distance.

  "I'll get the passkey," Raj said.

  He grabbed a metal disc from the nearest gurney and affixed it to the airlock door. Heavy magnets held the key in place. It hummed through a series of emergency overrides, then blinked green as the door cracked and hissed.

  They scrambled inside. The outer door resealed itself. Air sucked out of side vents and the interior hatch swung open. Raj, expecting darkness, was surprised to see a lit hallway. He called up atmospherics on his visor. "Looks clean. The scrubber must be intact."