The Dauntless: (War of the Ancients Trilogy Book 1)

by Alex Kings

  “I hope you know we're charging for this,” Agatha told Hanson.

  Hanson peered out from over the table. Two Glaber lay on the floor, one missing a head. The other two were approaching quickly, heading to either side. With the structure of the alcove, it would be difficult for them to outflank Hanson and the mercs, but not impossible. He levelled his pistol, tightened his grip, and fired. Another of the Glaber went down.

  Another pair of Glaber came in through the door. “Fuck me,” said Agatha, peering out from beside the table. “These lot really don't know when to quit.” She fired a sequence of bullets into the chest of one, piercing its armour and sending it down.

  When Hanson checked again, the remaining Glaber were taking cover behind the shield protecting the bar. One of them threw something on a high arc towards them.

  Hanson recognised it. “Move!” he yelled.

  The mercs didn't need prompting. Agatha and Hanson ran to the left; Srak bounded away to the right. The grenade exploded as it hit the alcove they were it, sending out a burning shockwave that nearly threw Hanson off his feet. It sent the table flying towards the centre of the room, where it collided with the shield around the bar and bounced back.

  Hanson skidded to a halt, taking cover behind the next table along. Agatha stopped behind him. He saw Srak suddenly change direction and catch the charred remains of the table.

  Srak, holding the table up in front of him like a shield, bounded towards the Glaber gang.

  While the Glaber were distracted firing at the table, Hanson and Agatha used the opportunity to come around from the other side, shooting at and outflanking them.

  Then Srak came to a halt. He threw the tabletop like an oversized frisbee at the group of Glaber. It hit with a crash against their armour, sending them sprawling. Agatha raised her pistol and shot one who was raising his weapon. The other scrambled about on the ground.

  “Stop,” Hanson announced, “or we shoot.”

  Both remaining Glaber paused. One grabbed its weapon from where it was lying on the ground a couple of feet away – then its chest came apart as Srak fired.

  Seeing last Glaber was about to try the same thing, Hanson strode up to it, kicked the gun away, then put his boot on its chest.

  “Want to tell us who sent you?”

  The Glaber snarled at him and said nothing.

  “Didn't think so.” Hanson wasn't surprised. It was typical of the lower caste fighters to have nothing in mind but loyalty to the hive.

  He looked up at Agatha and Srak. “Okay, I'm hiring you,” he said. “For the next couple of hours at least. These Glaber came for me …”

  “Look who's mister popular,” said Srak.

  “ … because I know too much. In which case they've probably also gone after a friend of mine, and we need to hurry.”

  “Fine,” said Agatha, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “What about this guy?” She raised her gun.

  “We leave him here for security to pick up,” said Hanson. “I'm surprised they haven't come already.”

  Looking disappointed, Agatha lowered her gun.

  “This sort of thing happens all the time round here. They'll take their time.” Srak pulled out a set of cuffs from inside his coat. When Hanson gave him a look, he said, “You'll be surprised how often these come in useful.”

  They bound the Glaber, who still refused to speak. Agatha waved goodbye the barman, then, as they were leaving, turned to the pair of humans who were still cowering behind one of the tables. “We saved your life!” she told them. “Srak and Agatha, that's us. Look us up if you need saving some other time.” Srak grabbed her arm and dragged her out the bar with him.

  Striding towards the transport pod, Hanson glanced back at Srak. The arm of the Varanid's coat was punctured in a dozen places, and darkened with blood running out from underneath.

  “Is that going to be a problem?” Hanson asked him.

  Srak looked at his arm and laughed. “This? Not even a scratch.”

  “You can pay on the way. Where we going, then?” Agatha said as they reached the pod.

  “Albascene Associated Calculations and Contracts Corporation.”

  Chapter 14: Fish Tank Bureaucrats

  Had the Shrikes got to Yilva already? Alone in the transport pod, Hanson looked out the window and considered it. The ACC Corporation public office was in a better part of the city. Not the sort of place where you could just walk into a bar and start shooting. Weapon controlled, in fact – he'd left his gun and armour with Agatha and Srak and had them wait nearby.

  The pod came to a halt and the door slipped open silently.

  He stepped out onto a large, open air plaza. Clouds trailed the sky above them, and off in the distance he could hear the faint roar of waves. Directly ahead stood the ACC Corporation building, a metallic dodecahedral structure just over a hundred metres across covered, with odd geometric patterns of windows. Its name was written above the door in Isk and some native Albascene language.

  Across the plaza, a crowd of Albascene and Petaurs variously floated and scampered about. From one of the open windows of the building, a Petaur leapt out a hexagonal window and glided safely to the ground. A couple of other species moved about too – humans, a Tethyan in a hovering sphere of water, a Varanid who looked bigger than Srak – but no Glaber.

  Hanson crossed the plaza quickly and went into the foyer of the ACC building. An Albascene waited behind an angular desk to his right. It had the standard structure – three dodecahedrons stacked together – but with different external machinery and decorations.

  “Hello, sir,” it said. “Is there anything I can do to help you.”

  “Hello. I'm Captain Hanson. Could tell me how to find Representative Olgive?”

  The Albascene's middle section rotated a couple of degrees to the left. “I'm afraid Representative Olgive is busy at the moment. Would you like to speak to anyone else?”

  “The problem is,” said Hanson, “Olgive came to my ship earlier today, and left with a Petaur I'd rescued. I'm sure you have that on record.”

  The Albascene paused. Presumably it was viewing data piped directly to its suit. “Yes,” it said at last. “What is the problem?”

  “Something's gone missing from my ship. The matter's delicate, so I don't want to say what it is. But it's possible the Petaur accidentally took it with her. I thought I'd best check here before I filed a complaint. I don't want this to turn into a diplomatic incident, you know?”

  The Albascene's top segment turned slightly. “I will talk to my superiors. Please wait.” Again, silence. Everything was done through the suit. At last it said, “The Petaur's personal effects have already been accounted for. You may view them as a list.”

  It pushed a tablet over to him with an effector field. Hanson checked. The datachip was listed, but nothing special was said about it. “It's not here,” he said. “May I talk to the Petaur herself?”

  “I'm afraid that's not possible. She's being held under security.”

  Hanson frowned. “That seems unnecessary.”

  “You are not the first to ask after her. Given the circumstances of her return, we thought it best to protect her.”

  Something inside Hanson went cold. He didn't show it. “Glaber, right?”

  This time he could tell the Albascene's pause meant yes. Even though a moment later it said, “I'm afraid I can't give you that information.”

  Of course – the Glaber wouldn't need guns. If they got close enough, a bite to the neck would enough. They wouldn't expect to get away, of course, but they'd have succeeded. Stupid plan, though, for a Glaber to try and walk in the front door. They probably had a backup plan.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” asked the Albascene behind the desk.

  “No,” said Hanson. “I –”

  At that moment, the lights of the foyer dimmed. Sunlight from outside trickled in. The blue and yellow LEDs on the Albascene's suit glowed in the darkness. It lifted on its effector
fields at once, and its middle and upper sections rotated back and forth in a worried sort of way.

  Hanson looked up. “Let me guess. That's not meant to happen.”

  “Excuse me,” said the Albascene. “We are experiencing some minor technical difficulties.” It grabbed the tablet in an effector field and prodded at it.

  “Oh, right,” said Hanson. This was the Glaber plan B, then. “I don't suppose those technical difficulties include your communications.”

  The Albascene seemed to turn to him.

  “So – and just speaking hypothetically here – if I were to run through that security gate, you wouldn't be able to signal anyone?”

  “No – ” began the Albascene.

  “Right, thanks for the help!” Hanson turned and ran through the gate. The unpowered sliding doors weren't hard to push open and squeeze through.

  Hanson activated his comm. “Agatha, Srak, you there?”

  Agatha's voice sounded in his ears. “Yeah. What's the situation?”

  Okay, that was good. The disruption was local. His comms still worked. “Security grid might be down.”

  A pause. Then, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

  “It's the Shrikes. Come in. And behave! I don't want any casualties except for the attackers. Be subtle. And remember the locals won't be able to tell whether you're attackers or not.”

  “Yeah, yeah. This isn't our first ride at the park, dude. We'll be fine. Agatha out.” The comms clicked off.

  Hanson wondered if he was going to regret bringing them along. But there was no time for that now. Yilva was somewhere in the building – but it was a big building, and he didn't have time to search it all.

  He reached the end of a corridor, where it diverged into a T-junction. To the right, the path split again, leading up a ramp. An Albascene forced open a sliding door with effector fields and saw him.

  “Human?” it said. “Why are you here?”

  Well, since he was discovered already. “You're under attack,” he told it. “Hide. Keep out of sight. And – Yilva Vissin Avanni. Petaur technician. Do you know her?”

  “I don't,” said the Albascene. It seemed remarkably calm. Perhaps it was panicking inside the suit.

  “Then hide!” Hanson told it. It obeyed. He'd already been seen, so … “Yilva!” He called out down a corridor. “Time for your second rescue! Yilva?”

  Nothing.

  He chose the left corridor at random, and headed down it, calling out her name and feeling slightly silly.

  It took several minutes of wandering the corridors before another Albascene opened the doors to its office and seemed to peer out.

  “Yilva Vissin Avanni?” it said.

  Hanson came to a halt. “You know her?”

  “My name is Ivis. She was my colleague.”

  “Look, I know you have no reason to trust me more than anyone else right now, but I'm trying to save her. Glaber are attacking the building, and I think they plan to kill her. I'm Captain – ”

  “Captain Hanson?”

  “ … Yes.”

  “Yilva mentioned you. She trusts you.” The alabascene's top and middle sections turned in opposite directions for a moment. “She's being held on the top floor for questioning, room 14.”

  Hanson nodded. “Thank you. I'll tell her you helped. Now, like I said, Glaber are attacking, so keep your head – or top segment – down.”

  “I will.” The Albascene retreated and pulled the doors to its room closed.

  Hanson swung on his heel and ran back down the corridor to the ramp. As it reached the bottom he could hear Glaber voices growling. Gunfire went off. He wasn't sure who the target was. Quietly as he could, he ran up the first ramp, then up a second.

  On this floor he could hear more Glaber speaking. They were close. Hanson ducked down behind the opaque wall alongside the ramp and peered round the gap at the top. Down the corridor two Glaber holding pistols were forcing open a door.

  The thought went through his mind: Stop them. But they were armed. He wasn't. And there were two of them. Even with the element of surprise, it would be a suicidal move.

  When the Glaber had gone through, he headed up the next ramp with gritted teeth. He hoped that they wouldn't kill any of the office workers.

  He reached the top safely. Room 14 … room 14. The doors here were marked with Isk numerals. That was a good sign. Two corridors in opposite directions …

  Below, Glaber boots pounded up the ramp. They must have found someone who knew where Yilva was being held.

  The corridor to his right began at 9 and counted up. Hanson ran along to number 14, and thumped on the door. “Yilva?” he said, loud as he dared. “It's me.” He grabbed at the sliding doors and began to push them open. A moment later a furred hand appeared through the gap from inside and helped him.

  It was Yilva. She stared at him with wide eyes. She wore a pale white smock, and her tail was tense.

  From the side, Representative Olgive floated into view. “This was your doing?” it said.

  “No,” said Hanson. “Glaber did this.” He turned to Yilva. “They're coming to kill you, and they're coming right now. We don't have time to chat about this.”

  And already he could hear boots pounding on the ramps.

  “Quick,” he told her. “Datachip and another way out that's not down those ramps.”

  “Oh crumbs, oh crumbs,” Yilva said quickly.

  “Come on, Yilva. Hold it together.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then pointed down the corridor. “There! Then we need to double back to get to an access shaft.”

  “Right, let's go.” Hanson looked up at Olgive. The Glaber would probably be coming to this room. If Olgive remained but Yilva was gone, they might kill it. “You might want to come with us,” he said.

  Olgive's segments turned in different directions. “Very well,” it said at last.

  Hanson sent the two of them ahead of him; the Glaber were coming from behind. Yilva, taking the lead, took them up a corridor, turned right, then to another room.

  “It's wrong that you should steal from us,” Olgive said reproachfully and Hanson and Yilva pulled the doors open.

  “On the plus side, I'm not willing to gun you down in cold blood,” said Hanson.

  Yilva bounded inside, extended a sort of safe box that was set into the wall, and pulled it out. All of this in less than ten seconds. Hanson appreciated her speed. “Here!” she said, holding up a tiny plastic bag containing the datachip. She shoved it, plus some other contents from the box, in the pocket of her smock, then leapt back across the room to the door.

  “Power goes off and everything opens,” commented Hanson. “You don't have great security here. Not that I'm complaining or anything.”

  “This is an office building, not a military institution,” said Olgive.

  “Access shaft, this way!” said Yilva, squeezing between them and heading back the way they'd come.

  Hanson jogged after her. Together they rounded a corner, and –

  Two Glaber standing in the corridor caught sight of them. Straight away they rose their pistols.

  “Oh, crumbs,” said Yilva.

  One of them looked from Hanson to Yilva, then to Olgive, who had just arrived.

  “Perfect,” he said with a snarl, taking his aim.

  Then his forehead burst open with a loud crack.

  As he toppled to the floor, the other swung round to look behind him. Before he was halfway there, another much louder crack came down the corridor. His head exploded.

  Agatha and Srak stood behind the dead Glaber, guns raised. “Subtle enough for you?” Agatha said, and took Hanson's pistol from her belt and threw it to him. “Let's go. We came up an access shaft.”

  They set off with Agatha and Hanson leading, Srak taking up the rear. Hanson was glad to have his gun back at last.

  And there it was. The corridor turned sharply to the left, but at the corner was a forced-open door. The shaft inside was inset with rungs.<
br />
  Two Albascene rose side-by-side up the shaft and stopped level with the floor. Their effector fields gripped the ladder, then cleanly transferred them to the floor.

  They looked different to Albascene Hanson had seen before. Their suits were bulkier, with sharper edges, and less cluttered with decorations. Instead, they were covered with small laser turrets and inset coilguns.

  “Security,” Olgive said. “Please arrest these intruders and thieves.”

  “Oh, bloody hell,” Hanson muttered to Olgive. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Put down your weapons, or we will shoot,” said the security Albascene in unison.

  Hanson caught sight of Agatha beside him, jaw tightening. “Don't,” he told her. The security Albascene may have been armed, but he wasn't willing to kill them.

  “I don't think so,” said Agatha. Her grip tightened.

  Gunfire roared from round the corridor. The Albascene in the way lurched to the side. Its middle section rotated and it fired back – Hanson hear a Glaber screech – but then the Albascene's middle segments burst open.

  Sour-smelling brine rushed out of the hole, spilling a stream of brightly-coloured, thumb-sized fishlike creatures across the floor. The animals flopped and twitched in the open air, and the LEDs on the emptying suit blinked out.

  That's what the Albascene were, really: A colony of fish sharing a single mind. That was why order was so important to them. They needed internal order to keep their minds together.

  The second Albascene continued to fire back. Behind it, Hanson could see the faint glow of more effector fields coming up the shaft. “Back!” he shouted.

  They turned together and scrambled round another corner.

  “Security!” Olgive cried pitifully after them.

  “You're welcome to stay with them,” Hanson told it. Olgive still followed, but trailed behind.

  “Right,” Hanson continued, as they moved down the corridor, ducking away again to avoid Glaber voices. “Glaber coming up the ramps. Albascene security coming up the shaft. Any other way out?”

  “Yeah,” said Agatha. She pointed down a dead-end corridor that terminated in a hexagonal window.

  Hanson sighed. There didn't seem another option. “Let's go,” he said.