by JE Gurley
“Yuck! Spider guts.”
Two Spiders remained. Tate had no more rockets, and they were all running low on ammunition. “Concentrate your fire on the nearest creature. Kill it, and then go for the second one.”
Both Spiders continued to press the attack, but now the fire team could work as a unit. Their target danced around the platform, refusing to allow the second creature around it to attack. By focusing on one creature and firing at its vulnerable areas, they managed to kill it. The second Spider, sensing the danger, attempted to flee, but they chased after it, dismembering its legs with well-placed bursts. Even disabled and dying, it continued to pull itself across the ground using only its two short front legs. Costas closed with it from behind to avoid the thrashing tentacles and placed three rounds into the back of its head from two feet away.
The battle left Costas breathing heavily. He needed a break, but he didn’t have time. Tarrying too long gave the aliens time to regroup and attack.
“Come on, you alien-slaughtering mother humpers. We’ve got a job to do.”
“We’ve got problems, Sarge,” Tate called out. He stared at the nuke in his pack. “This thing’s active.”
“Son of a …” Costas checked the device and saw two minutes and forty seconds of the thirty-minute countdown had elapsed. It had activated while they were fighting. “I never did like the fact the two nukes were synced. We’ve got to find a place to leave this baby and get the hell out of town.” He looked around. “Here is as good as any other place. Maybe we can take out some Kaiju.”
Tate shoved the nuke underneath the corpse of the Spider they had just killed. “This will do.”
“Okay, people. Move your asses like your life depended on it, ‘cause it damn well it does.”
He chose a tunnel at random. It sloped downward, not the direction he wanted to go, but the solid curtain wall cut off their direction of retreat. They had less than twenty-seven minutes to find a way to the surface, or sweet Mama Costas was going to be missing her finest son.
26
August 23, Haumea –
Gate knew they had stumbled upon an important part of the facility when he saw the vast array of electronic equipment in the room. Two aliens stood in front of one panel, looking almost as surprised to see him, as he was to see the aliens. Though they were larger duplicates of the creatures in the crèche pods, he did not have time to study them. Cantrell opened fire as soon as they entered the chamber. The aliens had no weapons and died quickly under her withering fire. Though he longed to examine the alien corpses, Gate turned his attention to the exotic equipment.
Like most Nazir machinery, it consisted of a disorienting fusion of manufactured and organic components. Tubes containing liquid connected the machines, as well as cables clearly electrical in nature. One particular piece of equipment aroused his curiosity, an oscillating globe floating above an ebony crystal pedestal. The globe material was opaque but glowed from within with lights that morphed through the visible spectrum from violet to red. A deep resonant rumble in his chest reminded him of the loud bass guitar he had heard once at a Houston nightclub. The heavy metal band was as different from his usual jazz trios as wine from water, but he had gone at a friend’s insistence. It had been a miserable experience. He wondered if the low frequency emanating from an Extreme Low-Frequency generator could be a means of short-range communication inside the underground facility or with the Kaiju in orbit. One panel screen displayed a number of objects represented by glowing icons. Dim icons remained stationary in a semicircle at the edge of the screen, but several were brightly lit and in movement. The number corresponded with the pods in orbit around Haumea, furthering his theory. He pushed and twisted projections and protuberances until hitting upon the one he sought. The moving icons dimmed and stopped moving. He hoped that meant they were offline.
A thick ebony crystal cable ran from a second console to a small version of a Kaiju pod, less than three feet in diameter. A web of azure lines illuminated the crystal portion of the metallic filigree teardrop, which he recognized as a gravity wave generator, the heart of the communication device.
“Cantrell, we’ve got to destroy this.”
She looked up from nudging one of the dead aliens with her boot. “Why?”
“It’s how the aliens control the Kaiju.”
“I thought the Kaiju acted independently now.”
“To a certain degree, but they have small brains that need constant updating. They feed data back to their masters, and the Nazir use that data to determine a series of courses of actions. If we destroy that link, we might confuse them.”
“Gotcha, Doc. Ramirez, help me wire this shit.”
Gate studied the apparatus while Cantrell and the others planted the last of their plastic explosives. A small metal box attached to one machine contained round depressions in its surface. Four of the depressions held crystal cylinders. A dozen similar cylinders lay nestled in a box beside it. It reminded him of a flash drive for a computer. If it contained alien data, it could prove invaluable. Lacking the proper tools to remove it, he used the butt of his MP5K as a hammer and broke the box free of the machine. He hoped he hadn’t rendered it useless.
Much of the equipment consisted of small semi-organic modules attached to larger metal machinery. He ripped away as many as he could carry and placed them in the empty explosives bag. He didn’t know their function, but by studying them, the scientists on Earth might gain some knowledge of Nazir technology.
“Ready,” Cantrell announced. She held a remote detonator in her hand.
“Give me a minute.” He knelt beside one of the aliens. Its fragile anatomy denoted their home world as a low-gravity planet, explaining why they had chosen Haumea as a base and used Kaiju on Earth to do their dirty work. The heavier gravity would have killed them.
“We don’t have much time, Doc. We have to blow and go.”
Her reminder that they were racing twin nuclear blasts urged him to move faster. The odds of escaping were dismal, but he refused to quit. Walker was giving his life to give them every minute he could. He could do no less to provide Earth with valuable information.
They took shelter against the wall of the corridor outside the chamber. He nodded and Cantrell pressed the detonator’s remote trigger. Gate expected a large explosion. Instead, it sounded muffled, like firecrackers going off. The size of the blast worried him. He looked inside the chamber and saw that Cantrell had placed the explosives in an expert manner. No piece of equipment remained undamaged. Fluids ran across the floor. Sparks flew from severed power cables. Chunks of metal and crystal littered the floor.
“That should slow them down,” he said.
“If the nukes work, it will be a moot point,” she replied. “We have about twelve minutes.”
Gate checked his watch. The second had seemed to spin like a top around the dial, ticking off the time remaining. He noted that it was 1:30 a.m. ship’s time, based on Houston’s Central Daylight Time. The threat of imminent death pushed back his exhaustion. He hurried his steps, as they retraced their path until they reached the beaded atmosphere curtain across the corridor. It now dangled limp and allowed them to pass through. They had damaged its controlling mechanism with the explosion.
They reached the pit through which they had entered the network of caverns. Low gravity made climbing the cable easier than descending. Despite his fatigue, Gate grabbed the steel cable and pulled himself up. His eagerness to escape added an additional impetus to his efforts. On the surface, Gate noted the absolute darkness. By shutting down the Kaiju pods, he had also eliminated the source of the light. They would be running in the dark. Determined to place as much distance as possible between him and the blast, Gate’s long-legged, low-gravity bounds left him off the ground for so long his mind tried to convince him he was falling. He fought down the panic by concentrating on his footing on the treacherous ground. His suit light was sorely inadequate for the task, illuminating only a small patch of black groun
d, and then only when he was so low to the ground he could not alter his trajectory to pick a safe spot to land.
He didn’t know where they were going. The module that had delivered them was nowhere in sight. Their only hope was getting safely away and signaling their location to the Assegai, if it was still there. He had no idea how the battle around the planet had been going. Had they lost? Was it only a matter of time until the Nazir found them? He lost track of time, but the explosion caught him while he was on the ground. The force of the blast heaved him high into the air, tumbling like his first spacewalk. He tried to right himself, but only made things worse by his frantic efforts. The shockwave roared across the flat, rocky plain silently in the vacuum, a cloud of dust, smoke, and rock. It swept across the surface of the small planet, gripping him in its warm embrace.
He felt as if a thousand fists were pummeling him, rocks slamming into his limbs and sides. If not for the armor, the rocky onslaught would have pierced his suit in a hundred places. The bag across his back holding the alien apparatus took the brunt of the attack and protected his air supply. He hoped the explosion had not damaged it. He curled into a tight ball to protect his damaged faceplate. He watched the surface dwindle below him as he rode on the turbulent current of air.
He waited for the inevitable fall when he would crash back to the surface to his death, but it did not come. The force of the shockwave had propelled him into orbit. Clouds of smaller rocks and dust surrounded him, making seeing the others impossible. He did not know if they had survived the blast. He was not traveling fast, but he was moving farther away from Haumea toward the thin band of rings. He tried his radio, but the blast had damaged it.
Once again, he could do nothing but wait for death.
27
August 23, Haumea –
After ten minutes had elapsed, scratching noises loud enough to hear through his helmet reverberated down the corridor. Walker knew it was not good news. He was afraid he might not be able to give Gate and the others their fifteen-minute head start. He hadn’t heard from Costas, but feared the worst. If Costas’ team had triggered their device, he would know about it. If anything happened to him, the entire venture inside Haumea could be for nothing. Taking no chances, he initiated the thirty-minute timer on the nuke. There was no backing out now.
As he lowered it down the shaft, the first creatures appeared from around a turn of the corridor. He had expected more Ticks, or even Fleas. He did not expect the alien Nazir in person. Four of them stood twenty yards away staring at him with their twin sets of eyes. He could not read their alien faces, but he assumed they examined him with curiosity, much as he did them. They wore no clothing to distinguish them from the lower creatures with which he was familiar, but as Gate had correctly pointed out, their eyes held a glimmer of intelligence. Though unclothed, they were not unadorned. The longer pair of four grasping arms cradled short cylinders similar to the ones he had seen carried by the aliens in the lower cavern. He had no doubt they were deadly.
He released the rope and let the bomb drop the last fifteen feet. In the low gravity, its descent took longer than he expected. He wondered why the aliens did not immediately attack. When the sharp thud of impact echoed up the shaft, one alien jumped slightly on two of its four legs, but still they did not attack. Walker slowly thumbed off the safety of his AA-12 shotgun, smiling at the aliens like an imbecile. He was too far away for the shotgun to be effective, but he expected to be a lot closer very soon. He reached into his pocket and brought out a fragmentary grenade.
“Hey, glad to meet you,” he yelled to them. “Here’s something I brought from the good ole U.S.A. for you.”
He yanked the pin and tossed the grenade, simultaneously hitting the ground. The aliens correctly interpreted his actions as an attack. One of them fired his cylinder. A loud hiss accompanied the beam of light that struck the wall behind where he had been standing. The rock sizzled and glowed red for several seconds. Hot shards of rock splattered his armor but caused no serious damage, although it would have easily fried his naked flesh. So, they have smaller versions of the tunneling lasers. This should be interesting.
Seconds later, the grenade exploded. The concussion slammed his chest against the solid rock of the floor. A piece of shrapnel ricocheted from his helmet with a sharp ping. He quickly rose and raced toward the aliens through the cloud of smoke with his shotgun leveled ready for action. They were dead, incinerated by the blast. Pieces of leg and torso lay scattered across the tunnel floor. Ocher goo dripped from the walls.
“They may be great bioengineers, but they’re lousy soldiers.”
He had struck the first blow directly against the aliens. They were more fragile than the creatures they created to do their bidding. He looked down at their shattered remains and felt no remorse. They had come to Earth as hostiles and deserved no sympathy from him. He was more concerned with their weapons. The blast had damaged three of the lasers the aliens carried. He picked one up, its metal casing split, and a handful of powdered ebony crystals spilled out. Walker slung his shotgun over his shoulder and retrieved the undamaged laser. It was awkward in his grip but simple enough to operate. A single stud activated the weapon.
“This might come in handy.”
The bomb was active, and the aliens now knew where he was. He had no reason to linger. He didn’t expect to make it out alive, but it was not in his nature to stand around waiting for death to come to him. At the very least, he would meet it halfway. He hoped he would encounter more aliens. His bloodlust was up, and killing aliens seemed like a good way to go. A nuke was too impersonal. His grim visage as he marched down the corridor would have frightened any human he encountered. He didn’t know if aliens could interpret human miens, but he would give be glad to give them a quick lesson in facial recognition.
He chose corridors at random, killing a few Ticks and smaller creatures along the way with the laser, taking delight in its power. The aliens’ defenses seemed frenzied and haphazard, as if they had bigger worries than him to attend to. He hoped it was Costas’ doing. The big sergeant had a way of strewing destruction wherever he went. Walker emerged in a large room where giant machines along the walls hummed and throbbed. He had no idea of their purpose, but decided to put them out of commission. The laser was perfect for the job. He fired until the leaser began heating up in his hands, punching holes in machinery, and severing ducts and cables. Streams of viscous fluids ran across the floor of the room. The machines still functioning after his frenzied attack developed a decidedly sickly sound.
His assault drew attention. More Ticks poured into the room, followed by a dozen aliens herding them like sheep. He thought it strange that only four of the aliens carried weapons. He took shelter behind one of the machines and fired the laser until he could no longer hold it in his gloved hands. He had killed two Nazir and a dozen Ticks, but many more remained, and they had him pinned down. He took careful aim with his shotgun and began firing, picking off the nearest Ticks, wishing the aliens were within range. He hoped the laser cooled down quickly. The aliens’ laser blasts splattered molten globs of metal and chips of stone from the walls and machinery around him, spreading the carnage. The aliens were finishing his job for him.
Without warning, the rear rank of aliens exploded. As the smoke cleared, he saw Costas and three of his fire team. Their sudden and unexpected appearance caught the aliens by surprise. RPGs, shotguns, and MP5Ks blasted into their exposed flanks. Ticks milled about in confusion uncertain whom to attack. Walker left his refuge and waded among them, firing his shotgun from inches away, ignoring the goo splashing his suit and faceplate. When he and Costas met in the middle of the room, no aliens or Ticks remained.
“You made it,” Walker said to a grinning Costas.
“When I heard the commotion, I knew you would be in the middle of it.” He glanced around. “Where are the others?”
“I sent Gate and the remaining three of my team to find a way out. I set our nuke,” he checked his w
atch. “We have sixteen minutes.”
“Yeah, ours activated when yours did. We placed it in a cavern with some truly enormous Kaiju a level below this one. We killed a shitload of these Nazir buggers along the way, so the day hasn’t been a total loss. Funny, they don’t act like soldiers. They have no tactics. They just looked at us. Most of them weren’t even armed.”
Any other time, Costas’ observations would have struck a nerve with him, but he was too tired to give it any serious consideration. He had matters more pressing on his mind. “Nothing to do now but wait for the fireworks.”
Costas took a seat on a low stone bench. “I wish I had a cigar. And some Scotch,” he added. “A nice cigar and a glass of Scotch with fireworks afterward.”
Walker ignored him and began walking back the way he had come.
“Hey, where are you going?” Costas asked.
“To find a balcony. I want a good seat for this.” Sitting in the corridor waiting on a nuclear blast seemed too enclosed and depressing. The cavern was open space. It wouldn’t be as good as looking at the sky, but it would have to do.
Costas shrugged and rose from his seat. “What the hell. I’ll join you.”
They encountered no more alien creatures along the way. Walker guessed they were in a frantic struggle to finish the remaining pods. When he walked out onto a balcony, the pit below was in frenzied activity with aliens directing giant Kaiju into the pods like cowboys herding cattle. At least this bunch isn’t going anywhere.
Costas leaned over the rail. “I wish I could take my helmet off and spit on the bastards.”
Walker grinned. “Or unzip your pants.”
“Yeah, that too. I’d like to take a massive dump on them and shout, ‘Manna from heaven.’”