Last Man Out (Poor Man's Fight Book 5)

by Elliott Kay

  It was the sensation he got when he hated how often his therapist was right.

  “Do you know what this is?” asked Chen.

  Tanner bit back the urge to tell him it was clearly Minoan sculpture of no later than the eighteenth century. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “It’s some sort of robot. A combat robot. That red portion projects a wide-beam laser. Here.” Chen produced a rifle scope and keyed up its optics. “This is from last night. We were about to hit a chip processing plant when this happened. It’d be better if you watch.”

  Grimacing, Tanner took up the scope. He looked around again and made sure his back was to the racks before he peered through the lens to watch the video playback.

  Within seconds, he stopped worrying about any sort of ambush.

  “I’ve got no idea who those people are,” said Chen. “More importantly, I’ve got no idea what that tech is or where they got it, but it sure as hell doesn’t match anything I know. So unless this is some crazy field test from NorthStar or Lai Wa—”

  “It’s ancient Minoan,” Tanner cut him off with a low voice. “This is ancient Minoan tech.”

  “Shit,” Chen breathed.

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We uncovered a couple little things. Nothing weaponized, but some of the aesthetics and the materials match. Enough to know they were way more advanced than the Stone Age stuff.”

  “Well, that only confirms what I was thinking,” muttered Chen. “I thought this might be alien somehow. Didn’t think it was Minoan. Either way, we’ve got to let the Union know. The company will cover it up. I know how they operate.”

  “Doesn’t the Union Fleet have a liaison here? We need to show—wait,” Tanner hesitated. “Why didn’t you take this to him?”

  “Who, you mean Captain Graft? Geisler has him set up with a professional mistress and a penthouse ‘guest suite’ fit for a king. That guy is gonna retire into a cushy ‘consultant’ job as soon as his current term is up. Some of his staff are compromised, too. They won’t rock the boat for anything short of a full-blown alien invasion. I don’t know who we can trust, but this evidence has to get off Minos right away.”

  “Yeah,” Tanner muttered. He put the scope beside the robot head. “Yeah, it does. This is why they’re running the martial law act out there? The checkpoints and the aerial patrols?”

  “All of it, yes. I don’t know if they’ve realized it wasn’t us. They’re definitely looking for my people regardless.”

  “And you? I told Dylan somebody made a recruiting approach. She knew right away who I was talking about.”

  “She knows who I am. We’ve had a couple of face-to-face run-ins, but I don’t think I’m on camera in any of them. My face has changed a little from my identity records. They’ve never tightened down this hard before, though. It’s getting hard to move around. I don’t know if I can keep dodging if this goes on for long. I can’t leave Minos, either, or I’d take this stuff myself. I know a handful of pilots who can go, but even they will get searched. I was hoping you could help somehow.”

  “Yeah,” said Tanner. His eyes stayed on the contents of the box. “Yeah, I think I know someone who can get around that.”

  “Where is he?” snapped a voice back toward the counter.

  “Where is who?” replied a defensive, shaken clerk.

  Tanner rolled his eyes. “Don’t move,” he warned Chen before the other man could slip into hiding. He slapped the box closed before leaning around the corner, where Solanke reached for the clerk’s collar. “Hey. I’m right here. Chill out.”

  “What the hell are you doing back there? How do I get around this counter?” As soon as he’d asked the question, he identified the folding portion and took advantage of it. “You don’t go out of my sight, Malone. You understand me?”

  “Whatever. It’s a hardware store. I’m looking at merchandise and consulting an expert.” Tanner gestured to Chen as Solanke came in sight, taking the insurgent’s alarmed look in stride. Solanke’s bluster and volume gave ample reason for anyone’s nerves.

  “Expert on what? Who are you?” Solanke demanded.

  “I’m Steve. Steve Lim,” answered Chen.

  “Identification. Now.”

  “Sure,” Chen answered with a calm born of practice and necessity. With both hands visible, he tapped the holocom on his wrist to bring up his ID screen. As promised, it listed his name as Steve Lim.

  The screen held no line for profession or employer, either. Tanner promptly took advantage of it. “Steve’s got experience in excavations. We’ve gotta get through that big mound back at the site. He was telling me about power draw and what batteries to buy for our gear.” Tanner scooped up the box containing the head and the rifle scope. “We’re gonna have to carry some stuff out to the hauler. You want to help?”

  Solanke looked at the box like it contained a dead pig. “Do your own work, schoolboy.” He stomped back out to the front of the store.

  Tanner turned back to Chen. “Okay, talk fast. What are the options for getting out of here?”

  Chapter Eighteen:

  Precipice

  “As of clearing perhaps 15% of the mound, we have discovered no artifacts or remains other than the carvings within the wall itself. Predictably, geophysical scans and probes have proven fruitless. However, we have uncovered an increasing frequency of large solid stones in keeping with Naomi’s theory of a large rockslide filled in by flow from the lahar.

  “As such, I have authorized the use of faster and more powerful excavation techniques.”

  --Professor Joseph Vandenberg, Expedition Journal, August 2280

  “You’re gonna slow down at the edge of the canyon, right?” asked Antonio.

  “Oh man, have I been speeding?” Tanner replied from behind the wheel.

  The hauler slammed through a low mound of dust as Tanner drifted off the tracks from its previous run. Its driver pulled the vehicle back onto the beaten path with a grimace. “Yeah,” said Antonio.

  “I don’t mind. It’s about time we got out of this thing,” said Solanke.

  Tanner brought the hauler to a stop alongside the expedition’s other vehicles. Nothing had changed since they left except the light as sunset neared. “You’re either sitting on your ass outside your tent watching us work or you’re sitting on your ass in the hauler,” said Tanner. “Either way your glutes get the same workout.”

  He hopped out of the front passenger seat of the hauler with the box tucked under his arm. The others followed. “Is he always this belligerent?” Solanke asked.

  “Only with you guys,” said Antonio. “He’s kind of the opposite with the rest of us.”

  “Might be I have some latent anger issues triggered by the presence of mercenaries,” grumbled Tanner.

  “We’re not mercenaries,” Solanke corrected. “We’re a military corporation.”

  “That’s what you call a big group of mercenaries. It’s the same thing,” said Tanner.

  “Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “What subject?”

  “You being an asshole.”

  “Hey, you’re the one following me around everywhere I go with all the stinkeye,” Tanner argued. They were on the path down the canyon wall now, overlooking the site. From here, they could see the great dirt mound at the other end. The top few meters had been cleared out and leveled. It marked good progress, but the mound sat alone, with neither diggers nor equipment nearby. Presumably, everyone had knocked off a little early after a long day of work. “I’m out here for college. This is xenoarchaeology, y’know? I’m not out here causing trouble. We’re here digging around in the dirt for old pottery. This is meticulous academic stuff and you act like I’m here to blow shit up.”

  A crack of thunder from the end of the canyon stopped all four men in their tracks. Tanner saw a red flash out of the corner of his eye in tandem with the crack, which his mind instantly associated with the sound of a heavy laser
igniting air like lightning.

  He turned around. A cloud of dust shrouded the other end of the canyon, rising as the bulk of the mound above slid forward. The rumble of the low slide came along with an unexpected sound: cheers.

  Given a few seconds to process, Tanner recognized the generally short spread of debris. Most of the dirt simply rolled forward like a pile of snow suddenly melting. Only that crack of thunder was violent. Everything else seemed perfectly controlled. Lines of cargo netting at the bottom helped channel the spill.

  “What the hell was that?” asked Solanke.

  “Laser charge detonation,” said Antonio. “It’s like the concussion charges we were putting in the rock before.”

  Students came out of hiding in jutting corners of the canyon. Tanner would have noticed them if he’d looked over the landscape for more than a second before the detonation. Some of them laughed. A few clapped.

  “You might want to look up the definition of ‘meticulous,’ schoolboy,” grunted Solanke. Tanner side-eyed the mercenary as he continued on down the path, annoyed at the comment but even more annoyed at the prospect of devising a perfect comeback half an hour from now.

  The cloud of dust at the end of the canyon thinned by the time they closed in on the camp. Less than a quarter of the mound remained. Rather than the jagged, rocky face of more canyon walls behind the mound, a smooth slab of carved stone rose to a point only a few meters below the ridge. It stood within a flat, jutting border shaped from the canyon’s natural form in a simple rectangle like a great door frame. Designs etched along the frame matched those in pictures and videos of Minoan ruins. The whole structure fell in line with those sites, all carved and dug from natural stone—except in the glaring ways this one didn’t match at all.

  The other structures sat empty with wide-open entrances. Even the existence of Minoan doors was a matter of conjecture. Researchers had found evidence, suggesting the doors were made of materials that crumbled or decomposed over time. This ruin stood sealed.

  Its scale outmatched any of the others. The sigils carved into the top were sharper and more intricate than any he could think of, with embedded crystals glinting in the light. The sigils running down the sides were still covered in dirt. So was much of the surface of the door itself. He couldn’t see the bottom yet: more rock and sand had to be cleared away. The large white sun shelter strung up above looked more flimsy and temporary than ever when contrasted to the structure.

  Students walked the edges of the remaining mound, taking video with their survey tools. Others set to work on clearing the spill off to one side of the canyon.

  “Nigel, Olivia, could you rig up a couple of the floodlights? We still have a few in the supply shelter,” instructed Vandenberg. “If they aren’t enough, you can grab a couple from the other pits back past the camp. Everyone else, let’s get to work clearing this aside.”

  Naomi stood beside him. “Grace, it’s Jishen’s turn in the clawhand. You’ll get back in there later. He needs to log a couple hours.”

  “Everyone else needs a shovel,” said Vandenberg. “Let’s clear all we can while we’ve still got daylight. This is—oh! Antonio, Tanner. You’re back.”

  “Yeah. I guess we were just in time for the fun part.” Tanner reached for a way to spark a private conversation without his escort. Luckily, the other babysitter in the camp provided a better distraction.

  “Solanke, you see this?” asked Garcia. He trotted up from the mound with an excited look on his face and a holo screen bouncing along at his side. The screen showed nothing more than a picture of the scene behind him. “Check it out. This thing is huge.”

  “I can see it right there!” Solanke snapped. He waved his hand through the holo screen, banishing it from the air. “What the hell, Garcia? These guys set up demolitions and you don’t even call me?”

  “All their gear got cleared through inspections.” Garcia shrugged. “I supervised.”

  “You super—? Son of a…” Solanke let out a growling sigh. He raised the wrist bearing his holocom, taking in a video shot of the great doors. “Stay here. I’m going back to the top of the canyon to let base know about this.”

  “I’m sorry, is something wrong?” asked Vandenberg. “As your friend here says, the gear we used was all inspected and approved.”

  “Nothing, it’s fine,” Solanke fumed. “I have instructions to notify my command if you find anything unusual. I’m sure they have bigger things to deal with right now but I need to let them know about this. I won’t be long.” He pointed to Tanner. “You be here when I get back.”

  “Where the hell am I gonna go?” Tanner asked.

  Solanke waved him off in disgust, then turned back to stomp off the way they came. Garcia wandered back to the mound.

  “Professor, Naomi,” Tanner said quietly. “We should talk in the research lab.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can speak out here,” said Vandenberg. “Things are a bit busy.”

  “You noticed the big, ancient alien door, right?” Naomi added.

  “Yes,” Tanner replied through gritted teeth. He flashed a meaningful glare toward Garcia as the merc took more pictures. “And we should talk about the ancient alien stuff in the lab.” He rustled the box under his arm. “Now.”

  Naomi straightened, looking from the box to Tanner in understanding. “Professor, we should give this a moment at least, right?” Then it was Vandenberg’s turn for meaningful looks. Tanner didn’t wait on it. He turned for the research tent.

  “Hey Tanner, how’d the shopping trip go?” asked Gina as he nearly collided with her. She seemed to appear out of nowhere, but Tanner realized she’d probably been close by all along. “You missed all the fun with bombs.”

  “Oh, hi! We didn’t miss all of it. We were right on the ridge when it blew. Over—aw, fuck,” he sighed, looking past her. Solanke was halfway to the path up the ridge already. He must have double-timed it for the end of the canyon. Maybe he even sprinted.

  Gina followed his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m hoping we don’t have a bunch of them come out to look over our shoulder now that we’ve found that thing.”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied skeptically.

  “Hey, are we doing this?” asked Naomi.

  “Yeah. Gina, we gotta go talk to the professor. Sorry.” Tanner pressed on, throwing open the door to the research lab and quickly looking around for anyone else inside. Assured of some privacy, he checked the nearby electronics to make sure nothing could be recording.

  “Alright, what’s this about?” Vandenberg asked, shuffling in behind Naomi.

  “Hold on.” Tanner ducked back to the very end of the tent, making a last check to ensure no one was lurking behind stacked crates in the corner. He didn’t like being paranoid. He also didn’t like kicking himself later for not being thorough enough.

  “Hold on for what? What is going on?” Naomi pressed.

  Tanner brought the box to a nearby table and popped the locks to flip it open. He watched his expedition leaders look inside, first with uncertainty and then surprised interest. “Where did you get this?” asked Vandenberg.

  “One of the locals gave it to me while I had a second away from Solanke. This isn’t a statue. It’s not artwork. It’s a combat robot blown to bits last night.” The two academics looked up with surprise. Tanner continued. “One of the chip manufacturing plants was hit by people with tech nobody can identify. Tech like these robots. The scope here has video.”

  “Who was this local?” Vandenberg asked as he accepted the scope.

  “Somebody who recognized me,” said Tanner. “I couldn’t get deep into discussion. Solanke didn’t leave me much space to chat.”

  “The stonework on this head has a faint sort of matrix texture,” said Naomi, running her fingers over the remains. “Where’s this damage from?”

  “Bullets, mostly,” said Tanner. “It’s in the video. The robots stand up pretty well to lasers. So did the rest of the tech
used in that raid.”

  “Video of a raid taken from a rifle scope,” muttered Vandenberg. He set the piece down, only for Naomi to take it up as soon as it was available. “I somehow doubt this person or his scope belong to the local security services.”

  “Not so much, no,” said Tanner.

  “Then I suppose I’ll infer the rest.” The professor’s frown only deepened.

  “You see what this is, professor. You know what this is.”

  “I can theorize. I don’t know,” said Vandenberg.

  Beside him, Naomi watched the video with breathless focus. “Holy shit,” she murmured.

  “See, that’s the response you should’ve had, professor,” said Tanner. “This is alien tech. Combat tech. And it all appeared within a couple weeks of our initial finds. We know this is Minoan.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Come on. Those robots don’t match anything on the market and hardly anyone even uses them in combat. They’re too vulnerable to hacking. And nobody uses shields.”

  “I’m afraid I am not deeply familiar with weapons, Tanner. Am I to rely on your expertise on this to jump to conclusions? You have, what, a handful of years in a system militia and less than a year of college?”

  Tanner’s jaw dropped. “Professor. I know enough about weapons to know those guys aren’t using any tech from the Union. They aren’t corporate. They aren’t a mercenary outfit. They aren’t some Fleet black ops team.

  “We’re on the edge of Union space. We’re on a planet once inhabited by aliens. We know what happened here. Now we know these weapons are being put to use. Minos Enterprises is covering it up. We have to stop this whole show now and notify Union authorities immediately, and we can’t trust the ones on Minos.”

  “How have you verified that? How do you know Minos Enterprises hasn’t already reported this? How do you know they aren’t merely keeping this out of the public eye to prevent panic?” countered the professor.