Redemption Protocol (Contact)

by Mike Freeman

  “Look, can we stop Abbott destroying humanity with the Diss? Then you can talk about,” – Havoc waggled his head and imitated a high pitched voice – “oh I can't believe you shot him in the head after I only shot his dick off.”

  She stared at Ekker’s corpse.

  “He’s dead.”

  “Yep.”

  She shook her head, utterly astounded.

  “Shit.”

  Havoc nodded toward the exit.

  “Can we...”

  She raised her finger.

  “We need to talk about this.”

  “Ok.”

  She pointed at him.

  “Before we can move forward, we have to talk about this.”

  Havoc looked bewildered.

  “Fine.”

  She sighed.

  “Gosh.”

  He spread his hands in a placatory gesture.

  “Ok now?”

  She slowly lowered her hands by her sides as she exhaled, centering herself.

  “Yes. I’m ok.”

  Havoc strode toward the exit.

  “Great, let's go.”

  She was still shaking her head as she stepped over Ekker's body.

  219.

  The sight in front of Zuelth was horrific but he couldn't look away.

  The Chief Scientist’s tortured voice was jubilant.

  “I have it, Exalted One, I have it!”

  Flames licked out of the Chief Scientist's eye sockets, orange tinged with whispers of green. It smelt disgusting.

  The Chief Scientist was mouthing something, but each time he opened his mouth to speak smoke poured out and flames licked up his face. It occurred to Zuelth that the Chief Scientist was pointing. Zuelth was hypnotized as he stared at the man with his eyes burning. Only flickering holes were left in his face. The Chief Scientist toppled over backward, still pointing.

  Zuelth blinked, the spell broken.

  He turned to see a magnificent dais rising from the floor in front of the carousel. There was a central section covered in screens and glowing glyphs and an access panel to either side.

  Zuelth breathed in prayer.

  “Thank you, Divine Father.”

  The Redeemer strode toward the dais.

  “Finally.”

  Zuelth bowed to the Redeemer. The Redeemer didn't look in Zuelth’s direction, not even once. Their Lord didn't seem to realize that His Chief Scientist had even existed. It seemed a little ungrateful, Zuelth thought. He winced inwardly and admonished himself for thinking that way about his God.

  Zuelth took another deep breath as his heart rate slowed along with his rate of perspiration. He was alive and perhaps for the first time in his life, he felt truly, honestly thankful for it. Perhaps he would, himself, try to be a little more grateful in the future.

  The rumble of explosions echoed out of the corridors leading south. The ORC soldiers were fighting their way toward the center.

  The Redeemer did not turn from the curving console in front of Him as He commanded Zuelth.

  “Summon the soldiers from the other side.”

  Zuelth bowed his head, still flushed with relief from his near escape.

  “My Lord.”

  “And go and defend the position yourself, Zuelth, before they arrive.”

  Zuelth’s face registered his shock. Be a soldier now? Was there no end to these cruel tests?

  The Redeemer turned to face him. Zuelth realized that he hadn’t moved. The Redeemer's burning silver eyes were terrible to behold. Zuelth bowed hastily and beat a retreat to the south.

  “My Lord.”

  Zuelth passed the pile of smoking corpses as he reviewed his suit’s unfamiliar weapon systems.

  Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  220.

  Weaver and Havoc ran along a corridor deep inside the sprawling dome of the beam control building.

  “I can't believe you nuked this place.”

  “I guess you've never fought a Gathering megatank?”

  “What will the aliens think of us?”

  “They’ll probably get a good idea of human nature.”

  “This is terrible.”

  “We could tell them we were trying to stop your Diss from being released.”

  “My Diss?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Where's Tyburn?”

  “He joined up with the ORC. They're taking on the Gathering. Hopefully we can loop round to the center and slip in now.”

  They passed through an opening in the wall and doubled back to curve the other way.

  “You don't really think I talk like that, do you?”

  “What?”

  She waved her head around and squeaked.

  “I can't believe you shot blah blah blah.”

  Havoc laughed.

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Can you stay back for a moment?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Using something that you ought to be familiar with for its intended purpose.”

  “Oh.”

  She watched Havoc set up a small device on the floor.

  “I bet Tyburn was pissed off when you left to help me.”

  “No. When I pointed out the flares he agreed that it might be Ekker.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  Havoc stepped back. There was a roaring flash and ball of fiery plasma hurtled down the corridor away from them.

  She turned to Havoc incredulously.

  “We're going to slip in now?”

  He charged off down the smoking corridor.

  “Come on.”

  She shouted after him.

  “What would my mum say about you?”

  221.

  Weaver slowed to match Havoc’s deceleration. He gestured for her to move close behind him. They crept along the side of a passage that ended in a large archway leading into the central chamber. Ahead of them was a forest of slender columns.

  Havoc sent a microdrone into the chamber. The microdrone emerged through the pillars to reveal a vast chamber with a spectacular rotating carousel at its center. Weaver was alarmed to see Abbott operating a console in front of the carousel. Bodies were strewn about the floor, mostly dumped in a pile of smoking corpses.

  “Dear God.”

  Havoc crouched opposite her.

  “Well? Is that the thing you're looking for?”

  “It's the control station. I can't see the Scepter. We need to stop him deactivating the beam if he hasn't already.”

  “Can you do it?”

  She shook her head.

  “I don't know. I need to get to that console and–– Waahhh!”

  She lifted off the floor as Havoc flew away with her. She flung her arms up as Havoc swung from side to side to avoid the columns.

  “What are–– Whoa!”

  She ducked her head forward as micromissiles streamed out of Havoc’s launchers. They cleared the columns. Abbott was already out of the console and diving for the carousel. A line of micromissiles headed straight for him. Weaver cast to Havoc instantaneously.

  “Low blast radius, Havoc. We can’t damage anything.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s done.”

  Micromissiles detonated near the carousel to intercept Abbott’s counterstrike. True to Havoc’s word, he’d configured his munitions to disintegrate into extremely small particles that lost momentum quickly.

  Weaver watched the floor rush up at her.

  “Waaaaaahhh!”

  “I've got you. I'll drop you at the console.”

  “Drop me?”

  “Place you.”

  Weaver watched micromissiles stream toward Abbott as he leaped into the scintillating field inside the carousel. Abbott’s body glowed with a nimbus effect.

  “What if he shoots me?”

  “Keep your head down. He's dead anyway, it doesn't matter.”

  Weaver understood. The nearest micromissile was only meters
away from Abbott. Abbott and the alien parasite were doomed. The micromissile exploded, the superheated shockwave bursting outward.

  Weaver gasped. Abbott wasn't there. Abbott was thirty meters higher. He hadn’t disappeared. There was no gap. He had just... moved. Abbott fell. The remaining micromissiles wrenched upward in flight.

  Abbott moved again.

  “Oh dear.”

  “What the fuck is that, Weaver?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Physics.”

  “Not as I know it.”

  “Can I blow it?”

  Weaver couldn’t imagine the energy required to displace matter that way.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  Abbott returned fire. Havoc twisted and threw Weaver toward the console. She shot across the floor as kinetics converged with her position, tearing great chunks out of the floor.

  She screamed.

  The fire stopped.

  The rotating carousel was closed, for a moment.

  She slid behind the console, staying low.

  She could see the chamber using Havoc's microdrone feeds. The carousel opened again. Havoc launched micromissiles into the gap. He was fearless; running, jumping and jetting through the slender pillars and dodging behind the giant bowls as he kept Abbott pinned in the carousel.

  “Well, Weaver?”

  She surveyed the console. Her stomach contracted.

  “Oh no. He's started the shutdown.”

  “Can you stop it?”

  She grimaced. The Diss were close to being released. It was a catastrophe.

  “Oh God.”

  “Weaver, can you stop it?”

  She ducked as an explosion came from behind her.

  “I think so.”

  A series of concentric rings lifted out of the floor on the far side of the carousel. Each inner ring rose higher than the last one. Sitting on top of the central column was a dark blue crystalline Scepter.

  “What the hell is that thing?”

  “It's the Scepter. The targeting system for the Diss.”

  “How long do you need, Weaver? I don't have unlimited ammo here.”

  “Two minutes.”

  “You sure?”

  She regarded the console, readying herself.

  “Yes.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Havoc spiraled through the atmo, launching a steady stream of micromissiles into the carousel as he intercepted return fire from Abbott. He tumbled sideways as an explosion detonated nearby. Despite his best efforts, his suit was taking hits.

  “Do you have any idea how long two minutes is?”

  “I'm not sure we should fire those missiles into the carousel.”

  He jetted up, barely avoiding an incoming rocket. The pillar behind him shattered and collapsed.

  “You handle your side and I'll handle mine.”

  He circled the carousel as he streamed in fire, trying to keep Abbott pinned inside. He carefully rationed his micromissiles to last the two minutes that Weaver needed.

  He had no idea what the hell that carousel was, but the ability to teleport anywhere within it was a hell of an advantage. Abbott occasionally poked out to keep him honest.

  He was going to run out of missiles at one minute fifty seven. Three seconds of kinetic fire and then they were out of here.

  One minute forty. He spun, twisted, doubled back and continued his rain of suppressing fire. Shattered columns lay scattered across the floor. The giant flaming bowls were scarred and pitted.

  They were doing great. One minute fifty. They were nearly there. He would run out at one fifty six. A second early, damn it. He jetted high as he let another micromissile go. Abbott fired a kinetic spread and a micromissile. Havoc jetted toward the upper balcony that encircled the whole chamber, landing and sprinting three paces as he fired his tricannon to intercept five of Abbott's fin-guided kinetics in mid-flight. He tracked Abbott's incoming fire and launched himself head first over the balcony while munitions exploded above him. He dived steeply behind a pillar on the ground level and threaded through the slender columns. Eleven micromissiles left.

  “Alright Weaver. Time to go.”

  “What?”

  The pillar in front of him disintegrated as a barely subverted directional micronuke released its energy. Fucking hell. He was right at the limit here.

  “Seven seconds and we're gone.”

  “No, I'm not quite finished.”

  He backflipped, spun low, fired two kinetics then leaped sideways. Six micromissiles left.

  “Not quite?”

  “I need more time.”

  He flew low, down to his final three micromissiles. He skidded into cover behind a giant flaming bowl.

  “How long?”

  “I don't know.”

  A micromissile streaked out of his launcher. Two missiles left.

  “Come on, Weaver! How long?”

  “About... another two minutes.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Weaver screamed as she was hoisted upward.

  “What are you doing?!”

  Havoc lifted her straight over the console. Abbott sprung from the carousel like a cat on amphetamines. Havoc twisted in the atmo above her. A micromissile arced out. Abbott leaped back as if scalded and reappeared at the top of the carousel. The revolving door closed.

  “I’m saving your cute butt, Weaver.”

  “I need to stop the shut down.”

  “Too late.”

  “Let me finish it.”

  They flew frighteningly fast through the pillars and came to a halt in the entranceway opposite the Scepter.

  “You can't. You'll be dead.”

  “I need to try.”

  He shook his head impatiently.

  “There's no point in trying if you're dead.”

  “I need––”

  “Weaver, shut up. We can't get near it until Forge breaks through.”

  She pointed.

  “Then we need to get that Scepter. Now, before Abbott does.”

  Havoc was already moving toward the conic pyramid with the Scepter on the top. He called back to her.

  “Don't let Abbott come near you; you know what the Talmas can do.”

  The carousel opened and Abbott sprung out high on the nearside. Havoc jetted in fast. Abbott dived through the atmo. Weaver watched in agonized trepidation. Havoc was still accelerating toward the Scepter as Abbott stretched out with his arms, ready to grab the alien artifact.

  Havoc grabbed hold of the Scepter. It must be much heavier than its size suggested. Havoc's feet swung upward as his momentum threw him into a handstand. Like two out of sync trapeze artists, Havoc's boots smashed into the back of Abbott’s head.

  There was a blinding flash as both men flared their suits. Abbott spun and landed violently on top of the pyramid. Havoc jetted into the open carousel, crashed into the far wall and plunged out of sight. Weaver winced. Havoc’s impact had looked violently unforgiving.

  Zuelth sprinted out of the southern entrance, presumably retreating from the ORC. Zuelth’s suit legs propelled him in long, bounding strides like a rotund kangaroo. Weaver saw a flicker of movement behind Zuelth and then he was blown upward, spinning head over heels before he crashed back to the floor and smacked through the pillars to Weaver’s left like an oversized bowling ball.

  Tyburn ran into the room at the head of several ORC troops.

  “Weaver! Where's Havoc?”

  “In the carousel.”

  “Get over here.”

  “We need––”

  “Get over here! You have Gathering filtering in from your left.”

  Tyburn and his men opened fire as they fell back into the columns.

  Weaver ducked down as she scanned over her shoulder. She couldn't see anything. She checked the microdrones. Gathering soldiers were streaming in from the north. Oh shit.

  She ran through the pillars, threading her way back south. She glimpsed Abbott diving into the carousel after Havoc. A blizzard
of fire opened up from the Gathering side. Kinetic fire swept over the pillars around her and she dived onto her stomach as shrapnel pinged off her suit. Abbott appeared at the top of the carousel and fired down at the ORC. The suits of two of the ORC troops exploded.

  “What the fuck is that?” Tyburn demanded.

  “Abbott. He can jump around inside there.”

  “Fucking hell. Did you stop him from shutting down the beam?”

  “Not yet. Nearly. Havoc is inside the carousel. We don't have long.”

  “How long?”

  “Seconds.”

  “What about tak––”

  Without warning, the bright blue fires in the giant bowls extinguished. The room darkened, illuminated only by the glow from the carousel and the streak of munitions.

  Weaver grimaced.

  “Oh no, it can't be...”

  ~ ~ ~

  Havoc fired kinetics at Abbott, fifty meters overhead. Abbott blinked instantly in and out of existence. The kinetics sparked at the top of the carousel and there was a terrible wrenching sound. Maybe the kinetics weren’t such a good idea...

  The light from the bowls in the chamber went out.

  Abbott burned brightly in his infrared vision. He fired another kinetic. The round burned up through the carousel leaving a glowing trail. Abbott was gone. Abbott’s voice was alarmingly near.

  “You know, if the field is charged while we're in here and lightning strikes a pylon, we'll be vaporized.”

  Havoc spun, trying to identify Abbott's position. On the bottom somewhere, amongst the pillars.

  A whisper came from next to him.

  “Exciting, isn't it?”

  Havoc lashed out his taser whip, at nothing.

  He whirled as Abbott spoke from the opposite side.

  “You've never been in a quantum vessel before, have you?”

  Abbott stood on the pillar above him.

  “Your species is pathetic.”

  Havoc fired at him. The kinetic left a momentary glowing track through the field.

  Abbott’s voice sounded further away.

  “What are you, Havoc?”

  Havoc’s adrenalin surged. Abbott was in front of him with his hands around his neck. Havoc held the Scepter behind him while he fought Abbott off with his free hand. Fiery tendrils of pulsing microfilament streamed out of Abbott's face toward him. The alien parasite was trying to take him.