Merasec, like Vays, had been waiting, knowing full well that he could contribute little. But now he could at the very least provide a physical barrier to impede the Gun Golems and prevent them from reaching the interior of the Palace. He pushed his Fugue Army to maximum output, filling the air with exactly one thousand eight hundred duplicates, and set about repelling the advance of steel.
Cranden tried various combinations of vaults, trying to seal away as many Gun Golems as possible, but groups of as few as five quickly broke free.
Abanastar and Schosser were forced to separate. Abanastar could use his lenses to defend himself, but attacking the Gun Golems would force him to get closer than he wished. It would also significantly reduce his defense with no guarantees of success.
Schosser sprung tirelessly to avoid pistol shots, but pausing to take aim and fire the Cat’s-eye Cannon was her undoing. A pistol shot cracked the armor over her spine as if it were porcelain. The slug didn’t penetrate, but her back was twisted out of shape and crippled by the force of impact. She fell over sideways, breathing heavily, unable to move and unable to transform.
She couldn’t feel anything anymore, and though she couldn’t move, she was happy nonetheless since she could see Barson, still high above, from where she was. “Wheeler. . .” she sputtered.
Though separated by several hundred meters, Barson heard his lover’s plaintive call and looked down to see her lying on her side, dangerously still. He was beset with Gun Golems, but instantly let loose with the Million Horse Kick Punch, opening up the space around him. He sped down towards her, but managed only to watch as little red eruptions spread upon her shiny coat of pure white steel.
“Aila!”
He reached her in seconds, but she was already dead. Taking her giant feline head and shoulders in his arms, he gently rocked her, ignoring the incoming slugs that continued to rain down around him.
Furst could tell that if the Empire wasn’t buried here today, he at least would be. He didn’t have the strength for any protracted combat, but he could take one, perhaps even two Gun Golems to hell with him. Searching for a likely grouping and finding one fairly close by, he approached and pushed the Taikou Fire to new limits. Casting away all safeguards, he forced the Taikou Quills to his will, releasing his true heat from the constraints of his body for the first time. The three Gun Golems so close together glowed red first, then white, then began to drop molten globules downward.
“Goodbye, Ren. Goodbye, everyone,” Furst whispered. And then he was simply gone. Losing consciousness with the effort, Kimbal Furst’s body had reverted to flesh and blood and was consumed by the blazing, unrestrained Taikou Fire.
Jav and Hol, with a lightened load due to the Gun Golem’s general drift towards the unshielded Root Palace, looked down at the expiring pink flare then at each other, sharing a brief, unspoken communication. Jav had taken three heads with the Kaiser Claw and he guessed that Hol had been at least as successful, but they both realized that they would have to get down fast and put themselves between the Palace and as many Gun Golems as possible. Merasec’s Fugue Army was slowing the enemy down, but duplicates were disappearing with frightful speed.
They made their way towards each other, and fighting together in perfect synchronization, they tore a path through the air back to the Palace. One last female Gun Golem remained and was between them and their goal. Hol directed the power of the Charging Fork to one vicious claw, which sheared the spiny wings from the Gun Golem’s back. Upside-down, Jav descended upon it, delivered the Kaiser Claw with immeasurable torque, and eliminated the threat of further Cleansing Gun fire.
Kalkin, at last, was in a position to make a difference, but that simple fact meant that the Palace was in grave danger. He and Vays fought from the Palace walls but there were just too many Gun Golems.
Merasec’s duplicates were down to the double digit range, and as exhaustion began to seep into his every muscle and slow him down, a moment’s carelessness cost him: a pistol slug shattered his left fist, continued through to his bicep, and wrenched his arm off at the shoulder. He staggered back leaving a snaking trail of big, red drops. Nearly losing consciousness, he stumbled and fell and in so doing avoided a fatal shot to the heart. Since he was still conscious, his remaining duplicates scooped him up and delivered him to relative, temporary safety.
Though Kalkin and Vays were fresh compared to other Shades, there were simply too many Gun Golems to stop. Jav and Hol made it to a defensible position joining Barson, but their effectiveness as a preventative measure was waning, and they were all beginning to feel the strain of constant effort.
A rumble coursed from above down through the Vine, heading for the Palace until there was a loud thump that shook the ground. Everyone took a second to eye the Palace, hoping the worst—whatever that might be—had not occurred. All let out a whooping cheer when they saw the expanding globe of a Prisma Shield emanating from inside the Palace. The shield grew rapidly and wherever it came in contact with them, the Gun Golems were forced to follow its widening curve.
The Shades had little time for rejoicing, though, and were summoned almost immediately by Witchlan to the Grans’ docking bay.
Jav, Hol, Barson, Abanastar, Kalkin, Vays, Elza, Ren, and Cranden stood ready in the docking bay. Merasec had been rushed to an emergency medical facility. Brin and Tia Winn, both looking and feeling guilty in their helplessness, were already with Witchlan, waiting.
Witchlan addressed them calmly. “The loss of so many Shades is lamentable, but we have no time to mourn just yet. All of the Palace’s resources are being used to power the Prisma Shield, but the Gun Golems will not give up and simply leave us alone. Forty-three remain. You have all fought exceedingly well, but you are exhausted, and to continue as before is to admit the Empire’s end. We have been in discussion with Director Scanlan, however, and believe we may have a solution. He will explain.”
Gilf Scanlan stepped forward. “Thank you,” he said. “Timing will be our biggest obstacle, but I believe success to be possible. First, as you know, Gran Kwes has been equipped with a Prisma Shield generator that is much smaller in scale than the one currently protecting the Root Palace. What I propose is to transfer the Palace’s shield generator to Gran Kwes. Two shield generators working together can produce a structure capable of confining the Gun Golems.”
“What good will that do?” Barson said sullenly. “It won’t last.”
“No,” Scanlan agreed. “In fact, modifying the Palace generator so that Gran Kwes can accommodate it will seriously limit its life span. We dare not use Gran Kwes’s power for it, so we’ll be forced to use as many power plants as we can fit. This number will be dependent on General Abanastar.”
“You want me to use lenses to reduce the generator and power plants so that Gran Kwes can carry them,” Abanastar confirmed.
“Yes. As General Barson pointed out, this in itself is not a permanent solution. But, by first using Gran Kwes’s alternate form to draw the Gun Golems together, then using the second generator to confine them, I hope to banish them from real space forever. Technicians have already been sent throughout the courtyard wall to prepare select jump decks for portability.”
“Jump decks?” Hol said. “Where do you propose to send them, Director?” She couldn’t blunt the edge of sarcasm in her voice, but Scanlan was unfazed.
“To nowhere, where I hope they will remain indefinitely. With the right programming and sufficient overlap, I believe we can create a permanent bubble in the warp field. It will be similar to one of Professor Cranden’s vaults, but with no way out.
“Eight jump decks will be required, but since Gran Kwes’s Gravity Circuit will be fully engaged, the decks must be physically held in place, close enough to the Gran and long enough to engage the second Prisma Shield. General Abanastar, in addition to the work I have already mentioned, you will have to help Professor Cranden hide the Root Palace from the Gun Golems.”
“The whole Palace?” Cranden gulped.
“This plan is dependent on herding the Gun Golems to a single location of our choosing,” Scanlan continued. “Since we will no longer have the Shield to protect us, we need them to ignore the Root Palace for as long as possible and respond only to the bait, which will, necessarily, be you that remain, with the exception of General Winn and Specialist Karvasti. I’m sorry, ladies, but there is nothing you can do in this endeavor except perhaps think positively.”
Kalkin cleared his throat and spoke up somewhat embarrassedly, “I have no doubt that I can hold and carry a jump deck, but, uh, I don’t know what I can do about Gran Kwes’s Gravity Circuit.”
“I should be able to compensate for both of us,” Barson said.
“I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but there are only seven of us to do the work of eight,” Vays said.
Elza turned towards him. “With the Crush Box, I can easily do the work of two.”
Vays nodded, feeling unexpectedly chastised.
“The Gravity Circuit will be a problem for everyone at first,” Scanlan said. “Usually, only one hemisphere is engaged during normal planetary operations, but we’re not uprooting stationary cities this time; we’re collecting sleek, slippery rats.
“Once the rats have been collected and the second Shield is activated, we can cut the Gravity Circuit and you’ll be able to move freely. However, time will be limited. Using both the Gravity Circuit and the Prisma Shield will significantly drain Gran Kwes. In addition, the second shield, though it will be reduced down to a more manageable size, won’t last long on any number of power plants. It was designed to operate on a much larger scale and draw its power directly from the Vine so this cannot be helped.”
After discussing a few more specifics, final preparations were made. For efficiency, because of the shape of the Root Palace, and because time constraints made using the courtyard as their operating theater essential, Cranden opted for thousands of individual units rather than one giant vault. At first he would need no help, but maintaining the integrity of each vault would require Abanastar’s aid before too long.
Still attached to an umbilical line, the Prisma Shield generator was expelled through the parting Vine fibers of a bare wall. Technicians surrounded it and stood ready as Gran Kwes bent its forelegs, lowering its head to provide them access.
The Shades were dispatched throughout the encircling courtyard wall, each taking a position with a designated jump deck. The jump decks had been disconnected and were ready to be moved, but that made them vulnerable to the Gravity Circuit. The Shades made their own individual preparations and waited.
Back in the docking bay, Cranden took a deep breath and began. He closed his eyes and the Gate Crown, which surrounded the base of his thick braid, cast its image over his head and grew to two meters across. It was etched with unknown symbols—the script of Cranden’s mind—and spun slowly like a millstone. From the highest inhabited portions of the Root Palace down, cubes of pale golden light began to blot out all trace of the Emperor and his Vine, at least to the Gun Golems’ senses.
Witchlan stood by with his hand raised. At the very moment Cranden had covered the last of the Palace, Witchlan’s hand fell like an axe and he cried, “Begin!”
The technicians went to work, transferring the Shield generator and hooking it up to three power plants, each one a three-meter cube.
Outside, the Gun Golems stopped firing. They turned their heads in search of the missing Vine, confused by its sudden disappearance. Of course, much higher up, past the thin atmosphere, the Vine was unprotected by Cranden’s vaults, so before they changed focus, Ren, the fastest and most mobile of the Shades, left the safety of Cranden’s network and performed duty as bait. With forty-three pistols firing down on him, though, it would be impossible to continue unscathed for long.
The docking bay technicians finished their work, and Abanastar constructed a one-meter bundle with lenses on six sides. Peering through any of the lenses revealed the Prisma Shield generator and the connected power plants, all tiny scale models, within. It was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope and was disconcerting if you knew how big the contents really were. The current size was both serviceable and semi-independent, which would allow Abanastar to aid Cranden now.
At Witchlan’s command, Gran Kwes stood upright and trotted with earthquake steps out into the courtyard. Once there, its own Prisma Shield already in place, Barson shouted, “Gran Kwes! Change!”
Gran Kwes reared and tore at the air with its fore hooves, whipping up gales of fierce wind. At its peak, standing almost erect on its hind legs, Gran Kwes seemed to freeze for an instant, then all the millions of black cubes that composed the Gran separated and exploded outward. The cubes stopped in mid flight and were drawn back, forming a giant black sphere that hovered ominously over the courtyard. Purple streaks of light—power—danced along the seams between cubes, and the Gun Golems at once responded, turning their weapons from Ren’s retreating form to the transformed Gran.
Witchlan’s voice was heard by all the Shades, “Prepare your stations for Gravity Surge.”
Establishing a local gravity well around Kalkin’s jump deck and his own as well, Barson shouted, “Ready!”
Elza, enveloped in the power of the Crush Box, slipped free of Cranden’s protection and gripped both of her assigned jump decks. “Ready!”
The remaining Shades sounded off and Witchlan gave the order to proceed.
“Gran Kwes!” Barson cried. “Gravity Surge!”
Every seam lit up on Gran Kwes at once, and the giant sphere thrummed deafeningly. Loose soil rose up from the courtyard, falling up into a black hole that was not a hole. Debris from the battered Palace fell sideways, passing through the Prisma Shield to ultimately crash into Gran Kwes, but as all the matter drew closer and closer to the Gran, it was rolled relentlessly by turbulent forces and crushed to powder.
Slowly, the Gun Golems were caught by the strengthening grip. With Gran Kwes at full power, the Gun Golems could not resist targeting it. They fired their pistols and their face guns even as they hurtled helplessly into Gran Kwes’s midst: a trap they were ill-equipped to evade or even comprehend.
Jump decks rattled in their former cradles as the Shades worked to hold them in place. Gravity could easily be cheated by proper application of AI, so Jav, Ren, and Hol had little trouble. Elza was totally independent of all but the strongest of gravitational forces, those of an actual black hole, and while Gran Kwes was indeed powerful, it was not that powerful; her jump decks did not budge. Nor did the two under Barson’s influence.
During the briefing, Vays said nothing regarding his ability to secure a jump deck while a Gravity Surge was in effect. He was in fact not altogether sure he could do it, but he was loath to ask for help from anyone. The consequences if he couldn’t didn’t concern him. He knew that the Titan Star and its armor were to some degree malleable and would conform to his will within its limits, and with that in mind, he silently set about his duty. He smiled smugly now behind his faceplate. A one-meter barbed spike from each boot firmly anchored in the courtyard wall checked any movement precipitated by Gran Kwes.
Kalkin felt none of the furious pull, but could see and hear its effects all around him. He knew that Barson was powerful, but he appreciated anew the scope and diversity of that power.
The force exerted by Gran Kwes was substantial and would soon reach its maximum output of twenty-five times normal gravity. Imperial science had the ability to generate as many as thirty Gs, but the strain on the mechanism itself often proved too great. Gran Kwes was like a giant, mobile gravity trainer, and, while the Shades and the Gun Golems alike were used to such forces, they could not resist the insistent pull unaided. Their bodies were much tougher, but the Gun Golems could not resist Gran Kwes’s maximum pull, nor would they if they could. So they were drawn in, singly and in groups until all remaining forty-three were pressed against Gran Kwes’s Prisma Shield.
When the count had been confirmed,
Witchlan turned to a technician who was standing at a special terminal and said, “Engage the second shield.”
In a hollow somewhere upon Gran Kwes’s surface, the grouping of Abanastar’s lenses began to howl as the three power plants fed the Prisma Shield generator. A spectral globe came into being about a hundred meters out from the first shimmering Shield.
Witchlan signaled the Shades as soon as the shield was in place. “Barson, cut the Gravity Circuit. Shades, prepare to place jump decks. You will receive further instructions from Director Scanlan, and you will treat his words as my own.”
“Gran Kwes! Cease!” Barson shouted.
The powerful, swirling drain in the sky stopped and the Shades went to work. In the docking bay, Gilf Scanlan scrutinized a real-time schematic showing Gran Kwes, the moving jump decks, and the final, optimum positions for each. He barked orders to Shades, directing them crisply and curtly—proper positioning of every deck was imperative, and the three power plants produced ever-decreasing output, already well past the halfway point of their capacity.
Some of the trapped Gun Golems turned their attentions from Gran Kwes to the Shades as they emerged from the camouflaged courtyard wall, but all the slugs were safely contained.
Bathed in the light of Scanlan’s schematic, Cranden looked pale and waxen. Even with Abanastar’s help, the vaults he had produced required too much effort; there were too many special characteristics to maintain simultaneously. To shut a fixed volume away and forget about it was simple and was possible on a grand scale. But to hide portions of the Root Palace without actually sealing them away or damaging them was much subtler work. “Minister Witchlan. . .” Cranden started to say.
Witchlan turned and saw Cranden’s color and the sheen of sweat coating his face. “Oh, yes, Professor Cranden. We’d nearly forgotten you—a testament to your considerable skill, I assure you. You may stop now.”
The Gun Golems (Approaching Infinity Book 2) Page 12