INCURSION - an ALIEN OMNIBUS

by Chris Lowry

  “I read the report.”

  “The report is fake,” he snapped.

  “I watched the vids from the car camera.”

  “Altered,” he countered. “Your men attacked a farming village.”

  “You are one of my men,” she said, staring at him pointedly. “They were Corsairs. You know the penalty.”

  “When caught in the act, yes but this was a peaceful community.”

  “They fired first,” she argued.

  “They couldn’t have. You dropped a concussion bomb. Almost everyone was knocked senseless.”

  “That’s not on the vid,” she said.

  Darwin entered the room, flanked by Bram and Darren. Nova turned her icy gaze on the Trooper.

  “Did you use a concussion bomb on that village?”

  “No sir,” he answered quickly. “We flew in supersonic, and there may have been a boom, but we didn’t drop a bomb.”

  “You are lying,” said Darwin. He stood behind Robe. “I can tell you the truth.”

  Darren interjected.

  “The truth is Commander, you’ve seen the vids and read the Computer reports. We followed the rules of engagement to the letter on this one.”

  “The vids were altered,” Robe said again.

  “And you are a traitor,” Bram shouted back. “You broke your vow. How can we possibly trust you?”

  Robe ignored him.

  “Commander, look at me. What these men did was wrong.”

  Nova looked from one face to the other in the two groups divided in front of her. Darwin stood behind Robe, lending his silent support. Bram and Darren assumed classic Trooper defensive positions, half back to back. She sat up in her desk.

  “Bram’s right,” she said. “How can I trust you? We found you with Corsairs.”

  Robe whispered over his shoulder to Darwin.

  “We can’t win this.”

  “It’s not in the winning,” he threw back his shoulders, stood taller. “It’s the fight against tyranny. That’s why I brought the Templar here.”

  “He’s dead,” Darren laughed.

  Nova felt a small pang in her stomach.

  “Everyone out of here, now.”

  “When is their execution?” Bram asked, hauling Robe out of the chair.

  “I’ll decide later.”

  “The Main Terminal calls for immediate.”

  “I’ll make the call on this one. I am the Commander.”

  “Yes sir,” the men withdrew, leaving her alone.

  She wondered if a Computer record could be altered.

  Nova keyed in a series of queries on her Terminal, and got the answer she expected. Computer documentation was accurate, too difficult to tamper with. That left one option, that Darwin and Robe had concocted the story. And if they lied about the attack, they may have lied about the Templar. Hope soared in her soul, but she brought it under control quickly. No use thinking about it. If the Templar was alive, he might chance a rescue of his friends. Better to kill them now, per the Computer’s recommendation. Still, if the Templar came, she might see him again, he might be captured, and if taken, subjugated. She almost couldn’t stand the thought of that, like caging a beautiful wild animal. But in this world, caged animals stayed alive the longest.

  “Stephen,” she said softly, knowing he would answer.

  “Sir?” he opened the door.

  “Call Bram. Tell him to triple the guard.”

  “Expecting trouble?”

  “I hope so,” she almost said aloud. Instead, she shrugged.

  62

  The dull throb of engines knocked through the corridors of the small, dank ship. The vessel had been recycled so many times, the hull was a patchwork quilt of repairs, different colors and types of materials stitched together forming a rough shell of what used to be.

  But it was seaworthy, ignoring the pumps running twenty four seven to keep the hold down to five inches of water. And if you stayed in the upper two levels of cabins. The rest were devoted to mundane and insane sea practices that Pip had no desire to learn about.

  Instead, she chose to remain in the cabin with the Templar, watching him as he recovered.

  His voice was slightly raspy, and he didn’t move from the small cot in the corner. He gave directions though, and the Corsairs chose to follow his orders. He gave no loft speeches of glory and faith, he only demanded total acquiescence on their part. The men complied or were left behind, and any thoughts of mutiny were kept buried deep in their hearts.

  An overt action was met with a swift reprisal from Reanna.

  “I threw someone over again today,” she told him on their second day out.

  “How many now? Five?” he joked.

  “Six. They want to kill you.”

  “They are welcome to try.”

  “They might. You are still weak.”

  “Why don’t you let them, then?”

  “You’re taking me to revenge. We just happen to be going the same way,” she said, propping her feet up on the cot next to him. “I may kill you yet.”

  He nodded and leaned back into his small pillow.

  “Every day, I get stronger. Soon, you won’t be able to stop me.”

  “I’ll get you while you sleep,” she smiled.

  “I may take you swimming again.”

  “Think you can fight off another shark?”

  “If I must. I am familiar with them, now. I can anticipate.”

  “They’ll take your other arm.”

  He held up the bandaged left arm, curling all but the two end fingers into a tight ball.

  “It will heal.”

  Pip spoke up from a chair propped in the corner.

  “I can steal a good Computer that will knit it correctly,” she said. “After we get Robe.”

  “When will we arrive?”

  “Tonight, we should meet the harbormaster,” Reanna said. “I’ll hold us offshore and we’ll send in a skiff.”

  “Boats,” he mused. “Why don’t you pirates use hover cars?”

  “We can pick a car up on radar,” Pip answered him. “In boats, then can melt in with the interference.”

  “Fuel,” Reanna explained. “She’s right about radar, but Father decided it was less costly to use boats.”

  “Can’t you jam their radar?”

  “We do,” she looked over her shoulder at Pip, half expecting her to reveal the secret to the Troops.

  “It’s okay,” Pip nodded. “I saw it in the village.”

  “Without a Computer, we have a low key jammer that works with magnetic fields and the water. Boats are easy to hide. We can make them look like a pod of whales. Cars, though, you need a Computer to split the radio waves, sort of fly between them. We don’t have the equipment.”

  “We’ll get it,” he assured her.

  “We’ll get it. You’re funny, brave man. You think it’s that easy? You just make up your mind and it appears. We’ve tried for years to bring a jammer or a processor or any kind of equipment you can name online. We can’t use Computers. The Main Terminal logs on to our location, the Troops come down on us. That’s how we stay away from them, we don’t use computers.”

  “No one was using a Computer and they found us last time,” Pip said.

  “They’ll pay for that,” Reanna growled.

  “Did anyone activate a terminal?” the Templar asked. “Did you turn yours on at the car?”

  “No, we never reached it the first time. They just knew we were there.”

  “Then we have to find out how they know. What does the Main Terminal have access to?”

  “It was your car,” said Reanna. “They probably saw it shot down and came looking for Corsairs.”

  “That’s too simple,” said Pip.

  “Eleven told me that the simplest solutions are always the best.”

  “Don’t you think he meant when you were trying to solve a problem?”

  “And this isn’t a problem? We have to know how they found us, so they w
on’t find us again.”

  “I agree,” Reanna stood up. “But I have to check on my ship. You have a good plan when I get back.”

  “Send in Bruce,” the Templar ordered.

  She saluted smartly, and left.

  “Can we trust her?” Pip asked.

  He didn’t answer. Bruce stepped through the door and hid against the far wall.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Bruce, what have you done for my team since I brought you here?”

  He adjusted his hair, straightened his tunic.

  “I didn’t want to come,” he offered weakly.

  “You’re about to earn your keep,” the Templar fluffed his small pillow. “Tell me everything you know about the Computer.”

  “Everything?”

  The Templar caressed the butt of his pistol shoved in his waistband.

  “Don’t leave out a word.”

  63

  “This isn’t what I expected at all,” Darwin said to Robe.

  They were confined to a small cell, somewhere in the bowels of HQ. While being brought down, Robe tried to count floors, and how many footsteps it took from the lift to the cell door, but the guards were watching him and kept him distracted.

  “It is jail.”

  Darwin laughed, an odd sound, out of place in the dimly lit bare room.

  “Not what I meant. This, this I expected. I was talking about the Templar. He’s not what I expected.”

  Robe lay his hands on his arms, pulling his knees to his chest.

  “We knew that.”

  “Who?”

  “Me and Pip. We knew you thought he was something else. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him about his past, it showed. You built him up to be an ideal. And the truth is, he’s just a man.”

  “How can you say that? His Order was the model of justice, protection, service. Everything in history points to that. The Templar’s came about based on an ancient religious faction that protected pilgrims. The second go round was founded on the same principle. How can this one man stray so far from that ideal? All the books say the men were chosen for the devotion and zeal, their courage and valor.”

  “You can’t say the Templar doesn’t have courage. He has ice in his veins.”

  “I meant in protecting and serving.” Darwin explained. He moved closer to Robe. They sat back to back in the middle of the cell floor under the single low light source. “He was supposed to rescue us from this society, you know. I brought him here because I didn’t like what we’ve become, as a people. I thought he would change things. But he’s just a tyrant.”

  “Your statue have clay feet? You can’t blame him for something that’s your own fault. He didn’t ask for you to build up an image of him. He doesn’t ask for it now, he just is. Sure, he’s a bully and a dictator, but that’s how he survives. If you ask me, the Troops are no different.”

  He leaned against Darwin.

  “Think about it. Conrad set us up to clean the streets of the Mob, to make the city safe for everyone. But a long time ago, we lost that fight. Now we just protect those who can afford it, calling ourselves a public service, but limiting our public. We’re glorified bodyguards, available to the highest bidder. We didn’t clean the streets. The Mob took over, claiming everyone from the middle class down. If you didn’t live in a protected building, with the money to pay for us and fortifications, they got you fast. We were started with the right idea, but the application of our evolution has changed.” he sighed. “Maybe that’s what happened to your Order.”

  “Amazing,” Darwin said.

  Robe shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ve had some time to think about it.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I made the Templar in my mind and was angry when the real thing didn’t follow my ideal. I wish I would have had you in one of my classes when I taught. Every so often, we learned men get caught up in our intelligence. It takes someone with a clearer view to show us the way.”

  “Thanks. I think we can’t blame the Templar for our failings. That’s why I helped him. He didn’t ask to be brought here, but he was. He had to adapt, and he was remarkable at it. As a soldier and leader, he’s magnificent. As a man, he may have a lot to learn. I just hope I can help him.”

  “Do you think he’ll come for us?” Darwin asked.

  Robe jumped up and looked around the cell quickly.

  “How could we be so stupid?”

  He slapped his head with his hand.

  The door slid open, revealing Harry standing there, an evil grin on his face.

  “So he’s not dead? I think the Commander wants to know about this right quick.”

  Robe threw himself at the door, but it hissed shut in front of him. He could hear faint laughter from the other side. He pressed his forehead on the cool metal surface, trying to draw strength from it.

  “I think we’re in trouble,” he whispered.

  64

  “We got trouble,” Reanna called down the corridor.

  The Templar tried to rise, making it to a sitting position before Pip pressed her hand against his chest.

  “Better let me handle it,” she said. “You need to be one hundred percent when we get Robe.”

  She ran out of the door, leaving the Templar with Bruce.

  “How are you coming along?” he asked.

  Bruce licked his lips, still nervous in front of the warrior.

  “Almost finished,” he said. “Sir,” he added as an afterthought.

  The Templar smiled grimly.

  “We’ll make a soldier of you yet.”

  He projected a small glamour on Bruce, a vision of confidence and camaraderie. The young assistant felt his chest swell, and choked back pride. He resumed his calculations with renewed vigor.

  The Templar nodded his satisfaction and lay down, willing himself to be well, to be stronger.

  65

  “We need to be stronger,” she couldn’t sit in her seat. Her body hummed with energy and excitement, she felt like someone had loosed a plasma bolt in her arteries, firing her up.

  “He’s alive,” she wanted to sing.

  “We’re triple posted as it is,” Bram said. “We have snipers at every level of access. He can’t fly, walk, crawl, or swim anywhere near here.”

  “But he might try. And as far as we know, he’s not vulnerable to our weapons.”

  “That’s why we have that,” he pointed to the vial on her desk.

  She had covered it in a glass cube, sealing it away from the room but keeping it in full view. It was death wind, and a whiff of the airborne virus would kill the Templar, attacking his vulnerable immune system. In theory.

  Nova had a hypothesis or two about the boys in R&D and their theories.

  “We can’t rely on that,” she said.

  “Then what? You’ve seen how our guns affect him. What are we supposed to do?”

  “He may not show.”

  “Robe pulled him out of the frying pan, it’s his turn to return the favor,” said Bram. “And we have Darwin.”

  “I’m aware of that. But I had Research working on some plans we found in Darwin’s old files,” she keyed in access to her terminal.

  A hologram appeared over her desk, a floating green blob of indistinguishable lines.

  “That’s new,” Bram admired.

  “Computer brought it online today. But that’s not what I wanted to show you. Watch,” her fingers attacked the keyboard in a machine gun stutter of strokes.

  The green matrix hovering inches over the surface of her desk broke apart, scattered and reformed random patterns that slowly grew together to outline a bulky humanoid form.

  “It’s a Suit,” Bram shrugged. “Looks like one of the Series A models.”

  “Almost. Conrad disallowed this model. It was too powerful for the user. And its damage potential was off the chart. It ripped through Mob like dead meat.”

  “Like the Templar.”

  “Right. That’s who it
made me think of. I knew Conrad always had other designs. This one might beat the Templar and help us hold the Mob back.”

  “I hear a but in there.”

  “But, it’s a drain on the user. That’s why we never produced it.”

  “How? Couldn’t we use the enhancer’s we’ve developed for the E series Suit and take the load off the wearer?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “This model uses a biomech interface.”

  He sat up in his chair.

  “Biomech? The Council outlawed that years ago.”

  “The test runs drove Troopers crazy. They couldn’t handle having a Computer inside of them, a part of them.”

  “You said you had Research on it?”

  “They’re trying to make the Suit work without biomechanics. Right now, we have two prototypes of this model.”

  Sweat broke out on his brow. Bram wiped it away with his forearm.

  “You think it’s the only way we can beat him?”

  “I’m not asking you to do it. I’m not even authorizing their use yet. But if it comes down to his coming back, we need this machine to capture him.”

  Bram slumped in the chair, letting the information wash over him. Part of the code was sacrifice of oneself for the team, but he wasn’t sure if it meant giving up your conscious for survival. He glanced at the reports on her monitor, recalling in the deepest recesses of his memory the basic mechanics of how this Suit worked. It was an integration between Computer and human, a symbiotic relationship that made the Suit and man nearly one in the same. Even outside the shell, the wearer carried components with him, micro machines floating in his bloodstream, black access cells on the biceps and thighs, and a tube from the spinal cord that stuck somewhere out of the neck. He shivered.

  Nova hadn’t asked him, but the question was there, even if unspoken. Bram could have one of those Suits to protect the Troops from the Templar.

  “What’s the vial for then?” he asked.

  She sat on the corner of the desk, facing him.

  “I was waiting for you to ask,” she moved from her desk to the window. “The truth is, I don’t really know what’s in that vial. R & D tell me it’s the flu, something we wiped out years ago. But Bram, you took Bio like I did. Viruses evolve, just like us. How do I know I’m only going to kill the Templar with that glass jar? What if I unleash a plague? What if it kills half of everyone? I can’t be responsible for that.”