by JE Gurley
They descended three levels, almost half the distance before encountering more creatures, this time Wasps. It was not an entire swarm, just a few individuals, but their instinct to attack anything different made then dangerous. Five of the team had reached the balcony, but their sixth member was still on the cable when the Wasps attacked. Unable to release the cable to fire his weapon and prevented from further descending by a Wasp directly below him, he looked down at them begging for help. Gate’s RPG was useless in such a situation, but the others fired their MP5Ks and AA-12s in an attempt to protect him. After killing one Wasp and injuring a second, the creatures changed tactics, remaining out of range above the descending man, using him for cover. Walker saw it as a delaying tactic.
“They’re playing for time, waiting for reinforcements. Move it, Reynolds,” he yelled at the man on the cable. “Loosen your grip and slide.”
Reynolds free fell. He made it to within twenty feet of the balcony before a Wasp plunged downwards and blocked him, chewing on the cable to sever it. Reynolds wrapped his legs tightly around the cable, released both hands, and fired a burst from his MP5K. The recoil sent him swinging away from the Wasp. He almost lost his grip and fell. He dropped his weapon and grabbed the cable with both hands. As he swung back like a pendulum, he realized his danger. He kicked at the creature with his feet, but the Wasp ignored his futile blows and plucked him from the cable with two of its legs. The claws ripped into his battle armor, venting his atmosphere. Reynolds groaned over the radio. Then, the Wasp released him.
Gate watched him fall past the balcony in dream-like slow motion, reaching out his hand in a futile gesture to for help. Reynolds’ screams echoed in his head.
Cantrell yelled, “Reynolds!” and then fired a burst from her MP5K, killing him. She looked at Gate, her eyes tearing inside her helmet. “I couldn’t let him fall.”
Gate nodded. Her guilt was misplaced. “You did him a favor.”
Now, the remaining Wasps came at them full force. In a flurry of gunfire, they killed all but one. Gate raised his HK200L, aimed carefully, and fired at the sole remaining creature. He willed the rocket to the target, not trusting his aim. The Wasp failed to see the rocket’s approach until the last moment. The rocket punched through the Wasp’s armor before exploding. It was as if the Wasp disintegrated. A puff of smoke, a cloud of ocher blood, and the Wasp was gone. Pieces of the dead creature cascaded to the ground below, falling slowly like confetti. Cantrell patted him on the back.
“Nice job, Doc.”
They now had to hurry. Their display of firepower had not gone unnoticed. Activity on the ground below increased.
“We can’t use the ropes,” Walker said. “We’re too vulnerable.”
Gate could see in Walker’s eyes that he felt responsible for Reynolds’ death. He wanted to offer a word of solace, but knew Walker would not appreciate it. Instead, he suggested, “The aliens must have another way of traversing up and down the complex, an elevator or stairs.”
“We have to find it, and we don’t have much time.”
The grim tone of Walker’s voice worried him. If faced with another delay, Walker would order the bomb armed and the timer set. Although delivering the nuke was the reason they had come, Gate wasn’t ready to give up yet. Before failure of the mission, he thought he could accept dying, but a small kernel of hope inside yelled at him to keep moving and keep trying.
The balcony led to a tunnel lined with small alcoves. Each alcove contained stone troughs at different heights, feeding stations. A thick slurry dripped into the troughs from holes in the walls. Gate remembered the creatures drinking from the digestive pool in the Kaiju mouth, nutrients derived from pulped humans. He was glad his suit masked the nauseating smell, or he was certain he would have thrown up.
They met with some minor good luck. The only creatures feeding were smaller ones. He recognized Mice from Kaiju Nusku, small cleaners than scrubbed and polished the floors. Others were unknown, coming in a variety of shapes and sizes, from tiny insect-like fliers to hand-sized triangular beetles with rows of centipede legs. If he had brought a cage, he would have tried to collect samples for study, because if all went as planned, they would soon cease to exist, immolated in a nuclear fire.
One of the flying insects landed on Cantrell’s armor. “Little shit.” She smashed it into pulp with her glove. Moments later, the other denizens of the feeding station became agitated, milling about the ground. She jerked back her boot when one of the triangular beetles walked across it. “What the fuck did I do?”
“The dead insect released pheromones,” Gate told her. “They may go into defense mode.”
“We can kill them,” she replied. “There aren’t many.”
Walker intervened. “No. We don’t have time to waste on small change. We search for a way down.”
As they left the feeding station, a few insects followed them, but stopped after a few yards when the pheromones dissipated. Minutes later, they stumbled upon another chamber. This room contained several small pedestals with curved thick opaque crystal screens jutting from the upper surface. One of the screens, illuminated from within, displayed a linear script flowing across its surface. The symbols resembled drunken chicken scratches, but Gate recognized a few of the symbols as similar to ones Walker’s team had discovered inside Kaiju Kiribati. He touched the screen, and the script disappeared, replaced by several cryptic icons. Pressing one, a 3D holographic image appeared inside the screen, rotating slowly. The image consisted of a vertical spiral line intersected in several places by curved horizontal lines. Each point of intersection was a node displaying information. The nodes lower on the spiral were all illuminated. The few nodes remaining above the upper horizontal line were blank.
“It looks like a graph, a progress report of some kind,” he told Walker. “According to this, they’ve almost achieved their goal.”
“Maybe they’ll get a big year-end bonus,” Walker said. “Come on, we don’t have time for this.”
Gate protested. “It could be invaluable.”
“We can’t take it with us, and we don’t have time to destroy it.”
Gate took a photo of the graph and the room, sighed at the missed opportunity to learn more about the Nazir, and followed Walker out.
Twenty paces farther down the corridor, they found a narrow shaft in the wall that dropped to the floor of the cavern.
“It might be a transport tube for smaller flying creatures,” Gate said, “or maybe just an air vent. It’s too small for Wasps.”
“Too small for us, too,” Walker said. He stared down into the shaft, using his suit light to illuminate its depth. “The nuke will fit though.”
Gate’s throat tightened with dread. Walker was proposing arming the bomb and lowering it into the shaft by cable. No matter how convenient or expedient the shaft might be, activating the nuke left them with no way out of the alien facility, not in the thirty-minute timeframe. He alerted Walker about his concerns.
“That doesn’t give us much time.”
“We’ve lost contact with Costas’ group. For all we know, they failed. We can’t pass up this opportunity. Once the nuke’s armed, we concentrate on escaping. We might get lucky.”
Gate thought they were already pushing their luck too far. “We might not.”
“I’ll give you and the others fifteen minutes before I arm the nuke and lower it. If you’re not out in forty-five minutes …”
His voice trailed off. Gate understood the implications. He also understood that Walker intended to sacrifice himself to give them a few extra minutes. “I can’t let you do it, Aiden.”
Walker smiled. “You can’t stop me. I outrank you. Carry your intel back to the Assegai. Tell Sakiri … Tell him to carry on. Blow this place to hell. Win this damn war.”
Gate was dumbfounded. It had finally come down to his worst-case scenario. Walker did not intend to leave Haumea. He had no words to express how he felt. Walker had seemed like a stone wall, unperturb
ed by any crisis and unbeatable. He knew he could not dissuade Walker from his chosen course. Instead, he offered Walker his hand. “It has been a pleasure working with you, Aiden.”
“Same here, Gate. When you see Costas, tell him no flowers.”
“I’ll do that. You’ll find a way out of this,” he blurted, knowing it was unlikely.
“I don’t think so this time. It’s time to pay the piper. Cantrell.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“You’re in charge. Get Wilson, Doctor Rutherford, and Ramirez out of here. When you reach the surface, put as much distance between you and this place as you can.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Now, go. Don’t waste time with long goodbyes.”
Cantrell and the other two team members walked away. Gate lingered a moment longer; then, turned and followed. He could think of nothing more to say. He fought the urge to turn for one last look at Walker, thinking it would somehow jinx him. Walker would find a way out. He always did.
25
August 22, Haumea –
The tunnel that Costas and his team investigated sloped downward into Haumea’s depths. After trudging three clicks, passing only empty chambers along the way, he wondered if the tunnel pierced to the heart of the planetoid and exited on the far side. He faced his explorations with a mixture of equal parts gratitude and disappointment – grateful the aliens had not yet discovered them; disappointed he had not had the chance to shoot something.
“This looks interesting,” he said, as he stood before a translucent curtain suspended from the ceiling like beads of frozen water droplets on strings. He tapped one with his gloved hand. “Solid.” He shoved his hand through the curtain. “They’re soft on the other side. Feels warmer, too. Here goes nothing.” He pushed his way through the curtain and emerged in a space filled with atmosphere. “Well, this is different.”
The temperature beyond the barrier was that of a spring day in New York, sweltering compared to the ambient temperature of the planet. To his disappointment, the air was not breathable. He would have to remain inside his bulky, uncomfortable, and claustrophobic suit. He immediately removed his MP5K from its protective bag.
“At least we can use these,” he said. He felt safer with a real weapon. The H&K L200 was club compared to the MP5K, a finely crafted tool.
A short distance past the barrier, they chanced upon a large chamber through an open doorway carved into the solid rock of the tunnel. Inside, he swept his suit light over a stack of parts composed of the alien ebony material – trusses, rods, blister covers, and most gruesome of all, thousands of replacement Kaiju teeth. His rage rose when he saw the teeth. He had witnessed countless people sliced and ground up by similar teeth before going into the Kaiju gullet. He immediately wanted to blow them up but knew their explosives were useless against the super dense material. He could at least make them more difficult to use by burying it.
“Nicholson, you and Mullins rig the entrance with that Russian explosive we brought. We’ll see if it’s any good. Wegman, Tate. You two keep watch.”
It worried him that so far they had encountered no alien threat. The Nazir had to know they were there, but were ignoring them. Did they discount the human threat so easily? He watched Nicholson and Mullins place the kilo blocks of plastic explosive above and on each side of the entrance, noting the expert manner in which the two men handled the explosives. They worked as if it were a training exercise and not a dangerous situation on an alien-inhabited planet. In spite of their suits and gloves, the two made quick work of the task. Costas noted the rock was a loose aggregate fused by the laser used to excavate the room. The explosion would bring down the entire ceiling on the supply cache.
“Set the timer for five minutes. The noise will probably bring every mother lovin’ alien bitch to investigate. We want to be long gone.”
They made it only 1,000 yards down the tunnel when an alarm sounded. “Well, they know we’re here,” he said. “Watch your asses.” He assumed the alarm was for Walker’s team. He hoped Walker’s team was still viable.
They did not have long to wait for the first visitors. Fifteen spindly, bi-pedal, avian monstrosities with vicious beaks and bladelike appendages for wings rushed down the tunnel toward them. Instead of feathers, their eight-foot tall bodies sprouted sharp spikes. Their backward jointed legs ended in three enormous raptor claws, like those of a giant condor. They reminded Costas of the giant birds from Sinbad the Sailor.
“Kaiju Rocs,” he said while loading his rocket launcher. “Is it just me, or do these Nazir assholes just try to freak us out with things from our legends or giant fucking bugs? Let’s fricassee these bastards.”
The rockets made short work of the Rocs, leaving pieces of smoking flesh and pools of yellow blood spreading across the floor of the tunnel. Costas discarded his empty launcher and sprayed a couple of the twitching carcasses with his MP5K just in case. It felt good to shoot something. It was the reason he had come.
“Let’s hump it before more of these Rocs show up.”
He stopped, uncertain which way to proceed when the tunnel divided. Flipping a mental coin, he chose the right-hand path. They passed more storerooms, some empty, some filled with things he didn’t recognize. The only creatures they encountered were tiny Kaiju Mice gliding along the floor cleaning it with their abrasive undersides. The tunnel emptied into a massive chamber six hundred feet wide. Dim red lights in the three-hundred-foot ceiling barely illuminated the cavernous space. The true dimensions of the open space were difficult to determine in the dim light. Although the cavern appeared empty, the nape of Costas’ neck began tingling.
“This don’t look Kosher. Keep your eyes peeled for hostiles. Anything moves, shoot it.”
As they marched down the cavern, he began to discern shapes in the distance, still unclear in the muted light. When he finally recognized one object, a chill enveloped him.
“Kaiju,” he whispered over the comm.
Three giant Kaiju, each one larger than the original three monsters that had attacked Earth, loomed in the darkness. They stood on partially folded legs near a series of openings in the wall of the cavern. A balcony eighty feet above the floor of the cavern ran along the wall parallel to the blister openings on the Kaiju. They had stumbled upon a Kaiju assembly room. He motioned the team against the nearest wall, the only available cover. After watching for several minutes, he determined the Kaiju were not active.
“These are some damn big buggers. I’d better contact the major about this. Sheesh, as if he doesn’t have troubles enough.”
He tried the comm link but got only static. Cursing, he said, “No dice. At least we’ve got team coms so we won’t have to butt heads to talk.”
He spotted a wide zigzagging ramp leading up to the balcony level. It looked like a good place to go. It at least offered a better view of the cavern. Expecting an alien attack at any moment, they bounded up the ramp. At the top, an unwanted surprise awaited them. Dark objects that Costas at first mistook as alien machinery or stacks of supplies suddenly reared on multiple jointed legs and regarded them with their two large red eyes. Tentacles ringed their vertical mouths. He immediately recognized them from the report from Atlanta.
“Spiders,” he yelled. “More fucking nightmares. Watch yourselves.”
The Spider watchdogs, all six of them, attacked together. The width of the balcony allowed only two of the ten-foot-long creatures at a time to confront them, but others crawled along the edge of the balcony to encircle them. Mullins fired his H&K L200. The rocket struck the first creature in the cephalothorax with a glancing blow. The warhead exploded, but only scored the dense carapace and the flesh beneath it. The Spider leapt backward, leaving a trail of dark blood, but remained on its feet.
Costas fired his MP5K at the creature’s eyes, attempting to blind it. He grinned with satisfaction, as he dug a small crater in one red orb with the 7.62mm armor-coated rounds. The Spider regarded him warily with its
one good eye, thick blood oozing from its other the shattered orb. The alien Spiders proved difficult to kill, but rage swept aside Costas’ revulsion and fear of spiders. He emptied his weapon into the open wound, striking a vital organ. The Spider convulsed and tipped over dead. He quickly discarded the empty magazine and shoved in a fresh one.
Tate took out one of the Spiders crawling along the edge of the balcony with his RPG, but a chunk of flying stone caught Wegman in the side and knocked him down. Costas stepped between the downed man and the Spiders, giving Wegman time to regain his feet, shaken but not seriously injured.
“You good?” Costas asked him.
Wegman shook his head to clear it. “Yeah, just sore.”
“Well, get back in the fight.”
Wegman nodded and fired his AA-12 at a nosy Spider, bracing himself against the wall and pumping shells into the chamber as quickly as he could. Costas probed for weak spots on the Spiders, finally finding one where the legs joined the body. He concentrated his fire there and amputated two legs on one creature, leaving a gaping wound. He emptied a second magazine enlarging the hole; then, changed magazines a third time, knelt, and continued firing into the creature’s underbelly. It roared in pain and died, falling off the balcony in its death throes.
Nicholson stepped too close to one Spider and went down when the creature swept him from his feet with its front legs. In an instant, it hovered over him, slashing at his body with its sharp, clawed feet. Costas fired into the creature’s open mouth until it retreated, but he was too late. Nicholson was dead, his armor ripped open and a large gash in his chest exposing his lungs, muscle, and bone. Enraged to lose a man, Costas advanced on the Spider. His charge took it by surprise. Instead of attacking, it circled him warily. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tate shoulder his RPG and fire again. The rocket struck the Spider’s rear and exploded. Costas ducked, as bits of the creature and gouts of blood splashed his suit. He stood and wiped his faceplate clean with the back of his gloved hand.