by Bill Denise
Joann tried to control her shaking. He drew herself up, feeling like a weak shadow of the man in front of her, yet determined to do anything the only thing she could.
“I know,” she said, her voice growing stronger, “because I assigned him to the team myself.”
The bridge erupted into chaos as everyone yelled at once.
**** ****
Things were as bad as Leland imagined them to be. Unfortunately, he had imagined them being really, really bad.
He was holed up with the soldiers that he’d brought along. Most of the mercenaries had moved off. They were spread out across a series of rooms that may have been offices, but were now mostly rubble.
Many of the intermediate walls had been demolished during the fighting, leaving them in a large expanse with solid concrete walls on the North and South sides and openings into corridors on the West and East.
They’d been attacked by Trueblood forces on both sides, but made it through the intense firefight with few casualties. The mercenaries decided to pursue one group of Truebloods to the west while Leland’s group covered their back.
In the best case Leland could imagine, the Augies would show themselves as the real enemies, and the Truebloods would join against them. So far, they’d done nothing of the sort.
Leland knew from the beginning that it was unlikely they’d find themselves in the best case.
Now, he simply wanted to defend Reverend Trueblood from the Augies and hopefully convince him of their good intentions after the fact.
Pinned down, with the Augies nowhere to be found, Leland realized they would all have to rely upon Damon to get to the reverend and tell him personally what was happening.
A loud crash surprised him and a new hole appeared in the east end of the room. He was proud to see his troops did not panic and fire wildly into the smoking hole.
As the dust settled, what emerged from the opening was a nightmare he’d never imagined. Charging through the hole came what appeared to be a man, but its limbs moved grotesquely and its speed was shocking.
It could be nothing but an Augie.
Leland opened fire and cursed when he realized his ammo was intended to incapacitate humans, but would have little effect on the Augies. Shouting to the others, he slapped a new magazine into his autorifle and reacquired the target, now frighteningly close.
Lasers shot out from the Augie’s hands toward the nearest soldiers. Some shots hit concrete and others hit armor, but no one appeared to go down.
Leland opened fire, keeping a tight bead on the Augie’s chest. Others joined his attack after they’d switched over to standard rounds, and the creature was visibly slowed. Once they had six or seven firing with the appropriate ammunition, the Augie was forced into evasive maneuvers, which slowed his approach and stopped the laser fire.
The Augie leapt to one side, seemed to land on the wall, and then propelled himself into the small group of soldiers closest to him. Leland and the others were forced to cease fire, but he was up quickly and charged the position.
The Augie was a blur of motion as he punched and kicked the soldiers nearby, cracking armor and bones underneath. The soldiers tried to fight back, but the creature was just too fast. Leland fired up his augmentation and focused all of his power into the close combat systems.
He approached from the side, and connected with a solid punch to the Augie’s head. The creature stumbled, clearly surprised by the power of the strike. Leland followed as quickly as he could with a two handed shove to send the Augie against the wall a few feet away. Now separated from the group of soldiers, the others opened fire again, and the Augie quickly retreated back to where it came from.
Leland was breathing hard, more from excitement than exertion. He began checking the injured men.
“Nice work, pastor,” one of the men said as he cradled his broken arm.
“Thanks, but I took him by surprise. Probably won’t happen again.” A medic arrived and began peeling the armor from the man’s arm in order to set it and splint it.
“Wrap it tight doc, so I can still shoot straight,” he said with remarkable good humor.
Leland sighed as he moved on to the next man. The bravery of the men he’d served with over the years always inspired him and broke his heart. He’d seen too many die for senseless causes.
A few minutes later, after the injured had been attended to, Leland called for an advance. He led them to the east end breach, which had been quiet for some time now, and out into the corridor.
What he found there made him stop in surprise. Strewn throughout the area were the bodies of Trueblood forces. They’d been beaten, sliced, and shot at close range.
The men crowded in behind Leland and excited chatter broke out. He silenced them with a quick hand signal, even though his own excitement bubbled near the surface. Looks like the Augies are finally showing their true colors. We may not need to convince the Truebloods after all.
Chapter Sixteen
“That’s very odd,” Jeffrey said as he glared at his screen. He tried to slow his racing heart, as he expected the Demon to show up any minute. Not being able to track him made it all the more nerve-wracking. He had a needle-flak gun with him, but he didn’t think it would be enough to protect Renard.
“What’s odd?” Renard asked as he joined Jeffrey at the display.
“We’re getting many reports of firefights and casualties, but no solid location on the Demon.”
“Not really that odd, is it?” Renard asked, confused.
“Well no, but they are all coming from lower levels. I thought he was higher than that now. What’s more is we’re getting conflicting information and sightings of the Demon all over the place. However, the only actual fighting appears to be isolated low in the Spire. Something is not adding up.”
Jeffrey continued to pore over the incoming information, and the few visual feeds they were receiving. Smoke, fire, and water appeared almost everywhere on the lower levels, making all of the images unclear and chaotic. He understood how reports could become garbled and details could be wrong, but nothing was making sense. He longed to go down and see things for himself.
A few minutes later, a pattern began to take shape. His mind rejected the evidence for quite some time, since it was unbelievable and frightening. Finally, he could not deny the veracity of what he was seeing. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Renard,” he said quietly, immediately capturing Renard’s attention since he never used his first name.
“The Augies are attacking our men.”
**** ****
Damon heard him coming from around the corner. He couldn’t wait to meet one of the Augies and see how good they are. Apparently, its sensors were not good enough to defeat Damon’s cloaking, or it would not have been approaching so recklessly. Damon moved out from around the corner just as the Augie arrived. He reached out to grab it as it raced toward him, but it made an impossible dodge by twisting its body into an arc while its feet scrambled up the wall to the right.
The Augie kicked off the wall and sailed over Damon’s head, flipping in mid-air and actually placing a hand on the top of Damon’s head. Its claws scraped across the D-SAP, and dislodged a small number of scales. Certainly not enough to cause a problem, but something Damon would have to remember. The Augie landed and kicked him hard in the back before Damon could recover from his initial lunge. The kick was powerful, but Damon had taken worse. While he skidded along the floor on his face, the Augie pursued.
It grabbed him, claws digging into the D-SAP, and rolled forward using Damon’s own momentum to fling him into the wall. Damon found himself embedded to his sternum in hardened concrete, and he pushed his arms out and up to extricate himself.
Before he could regain his balance, the Augie landed on him and knocked him off his feet, grabbed his foot and threw him against the opposite wall. The Augie hopped after, knocking Damon off balance and tossing him side to side quicker than Damon could react.
Damon was disorie
nted from the attack, but the Augie finally made a simple mistake. As they came to the end of the corridor and into a larger room, the Augie threw Damon across the room into the far wall. Damon didn’t hit the wall with much force, and he recovered quickly. The Augie suddenly realized he’d given Damon too much separation.
Damon saw its eyes flicker between attack or retreat, and he took advantage of the moment’s hesitation. He fired slug guns from both arms while powering up the Trip-PC. The slugs kept the Augie from moving too quickly, and Damon fired the cannon.
The Augie screeched as it burst into burning bits of flesh and bone.
“Not so tough after all,” he said to the scorched and smoking walls. The Trip-PC shot left a long burning path through walls, floors and other obstacles until it struck a vertical shaft near the center of the building. Intrigued, Damon climbed through the destruction to reach the shaft.
He ran his hand over the black surface, and could see where the Trip-PC shot had cracked it. The result from his scanners made him withdraw his hand quickly in surprise. “D-SAP!” he said out loud. It was not made up of scales like his armor, and was slightly different composition, but it was D-SAP for sure.
He compared this location to his sensor-generated map and realized this shaft showed up, but was hard to see amid everything else in the structure. Once he knew where to look, it was easy to trace its path upward, where it led directly into the heavily-shielded area that was his target.
He ran through his memories and accessed information available in his data stores. Apparently, D-SAP was known for its hardness but was not used often due to its weight and a tendency to be brittle if not properly treated.
“. . . 42% . . .”
Not going to use another Trip-PC shot! he thought, realizing he still had a long battle ahead of him. Maybe it’s damaged enough . . .
Damon took two purposeful steps toward the damaged spot and unleashed a punch with all the power he could muster. He felt the impact as it jarred his entire body with its force. He thought he might have torn his shoulder from its socket, but a quick check showed no actual damage. The shaft made a loud crack that echoed through the area and made Damon’s ears ring. Sure enough, the strike had added more cracks to the area, and Damon saw spots where he could wedge his fingers in to grip the edges. Bracing his feet against the shaft itself, he pulled one of the weakened parts with all his strength until it finally snapped off, sending him flying backwards into a wall.
The hole that opened in the shaft would be just large enough to let him inside. He squeezed through and surveyed his surroundings. “Of course,” he said to himself, “elevator!”
There were few handholds along the way, but using his enhanced strength and natural agility, he made his way slowly up the shaft.
**** ****
Captain Michael Fischoff had the crazy scientist secured by two security guards, but kept her on the bridge. The disturbance she caused had him flustered, but her earnest pleas were making his intuition tingle, and he decided to dig in a little deeper. He thought about contacting fleet headquarters, but decided they would not be very helpful. Instead, since they were now approaching the planet, he decided to access the direct feeds from the combat troops in the area. Working with his communications officer, they were able to gain clearances and locate the proper bands to monitor the action directly.
The captain listened intently to the broadcasts, but the chatter was heavy and much of it indistinct. One thing was clear without hearing the words: chaos reigned on site.
His love of order and control made him recoil from the incoming audio, but he caught himself and tried to discern the situation. With the help of his top communications tech, he was able to isolate and playback individual transmissions from the morass.
Despite the confusion in the communications, it became clear after a few minutes that things were not right. Piecing together the disparate bits of information, the captain and his tech concluded that the Trueblood forces were under attack from the Demon, some unidentified soldiers, and—even though he didn’t want to believe it—the Augies themselves. The Trueblood soldiers found they had no safe haven and were taking grievous losses.
The captain slowly straightened from leaning over the communication screen, his mind still in shock from the revelation. He turned slowly to face Joann.
“Release her,” he said in a quiet and tremulous voice.
**** ****
Damon rested when he reached the top of the shaft. He found a maglev elevator car in his way, but was able to peel open the plain steel floor to gain access. This has got to be where Reverend Trueblood is hiding.
“. . . 38% . . .”
“Well,” he said to the doors, “not gonna waste my power sitting here!”
He smashed down the doors and dove into the room beyond, rolled a few feet and came up to his knees with slug guns ready.
He was surprised to find only three people in the huge room, all together in front of him. Now that he was inside the sensor shielding, he ran a quick scan to determine that they were indeed alone.
“Reverend Trueblood . . .” he started, as he stood and lowered his arms. However, the aide - Damon couldn’t remember his name - stepped in front of the reverend and brandished a needle-flak gun.
Damon hissed involuntarily and raised his hands at the sight of the ugly weapon. His heart began to race.
“Wait, wait,” he said, and held his palms outward while retracting his weapons. “I’m here to protect the reverend!”
The aide held the weapon trained on Damon, but did not fire. He held it with a steady, practiced hand and Damon realized he was no ordinary aide.
“Please,” Damon begged, “please listen to me.” His eyes flicked to Avelina, still sitting on the couch, her eyes wide, “Dr. Baksa, you know Dr. Tashus, right?”
The woman stared for a moment as if she hadn’t heard. Then she blinked once, twice, and said “Dr. Tashus . . . Joann. Yes, why?”
“She can explain it to you. Since you have no reason to trust me, listen to her.” Damon realized he was not sounding convincing at all. When he’d run through this scenario in his head he’d been much more eloquent and persuasive. He really wished Leland or even Ken were here. He forged ahead.
“The Augies have betrayed you, they’re working for the Prykes and they’re coming to kill you, Reverend.”
“We saw—” the reverend started to say, but the aide held up a hand and he stopped speaking, which Damon found odd.
“We don’t know anything,” the aide said firmly. He raised the needle-flak gun, and Damon’s mind raced.
“Well, isn’t this convenient?” A new voice sounded from behind Damon. “Now I’ve got you all in one place, much easier to kill.”
Damon turned to see an Augie stepping out of the ruined elevator. Instinctively he ducked, as the aide fired the needle-flak over his head and into the Augie.
Everyone froze as the shot struck home directly in the center of the creature’s chest. The Augie glanced down briefly, but smiled and said “That don’t work on me.”
He charged the reverend with blinding speed, but Damon was ready and reached out a hand to grab him as he went by. He missed, but his arm struck the Augie’s leg and Damon swept upward. The Augie’s motion was not stopped, since he could rotate his leg around the hip joint, but it did turn him away from Renard and his aide.
Damon followed with a powerful one-handed punch to the side of the Augie’s head. He fell in a heap and slid across the floor, looking dazed. Damon followed as quickly as he could, but the Augie dodged, grabbed him by the wrist and redirected his momentum into a nearby wall.
The wall was flimsy and did no damage, but Damon could not maintain his balance as he fell to the floor. He rolled to the side as the Augie closed and swung down with his organic combat blades narrowly missing Damon but cutting twin furrows in the concrete floor.
Now facing away from the others, Damon opened fire with all of his slug guns at point blank range. T
he impact lifted the Augie off his feet and sent him flying across the room. Damon extruded his own combat blade and chased after him.
Their weapons clashed with a strangely muffled sound of plastic and bone. The Augie was faster, but Damon was stronger. Damon knew how to use his size and strength from his years growing up in the Ruins. He got very few solid hits on the Augie, but did manage to cut the blade off of its left hand, reducing it to one weapon. Nonetheless, the Augie scored many more hits, and each one knocked loose some of the D-SAP scales.
Damon started to bleed.
**** ****
He never expected the shot to hurt the Augie, but he hoped to gain an advantage for the Demon. Unfortunately, the Demon stood riveted in his spot, apparently waiting to see the outcome. Once it became obvious that the Augie was unaffected, and the Demon finally moved to engage, Jeffrey was up and running to Renard and Avelina.
He herded them to the far side of the office, although there was very little to provide cover. His mind raced as he tried to devise a plan of escape. When the Spire was constructed a few hundred years ago, it did not need any form of escape. The defenses had been upgraded over time, including the D-SAP floor and elevator shaft about 15 years ago, but Renard had scoffed at any further plans. Jeffrey now kicked himself for not insisting or installing something without Renard’s knowledge.
Jeffrey grabbed a screen from a nearby desk and waited for it to configure to his touch. Immediately, an urgent message flashed in the center. Hoping to contact anyone for help, he punched up the icon.
The face in the screen and the name along the banner were unfamiliar: Captain Michael Fischoff.
“Mr. Allen,” the captain said in surprise, “you’ve got trouble.”
“No kidding. Where are you?”
“Five minutes from the Spire . . .”
“Make it two, and here’s what you need to do.”
**** ****