Atlantia Series 1: Survivor

by Dean Crawford

  The convicts were organised into a team, and together they pushed the huge container on its rollers across the rocky ground toward the fusion core. Most of the men ducked their heads down to shield themselves from the tremendous heat. Those that didn’t saw their hair singe and smoulder in little puffs of blue smoke. Together, they pushed the container alongside the core and held position as from within it a pair of magnetic clamps extended under remote control and wrapped around the core. The searing beam of energy above them swung through the evening sky, the swirling cloud coiled around it, the vigorous wind shifting with the blaze and howling as it whistled across the plateau and tugged at their clothes.

  The robotic arms retracted into the container and the core rolled on its cradle and slammed inside, the blazing beam of light slicing horizontally across the plateau and out across the deserts. Evelyn saw the beam sear the rocky earth, instantly turning it to molten liquid that ran in glowing rivers and spat bright sparks of magma.

  ‘Steady the container!’ Bra’hiv yelled. ‘Stay in place!’

  The convicts obeyed, crouching down and shouldering their weight into the container as the lid slid automatically into shaped grooves along the side of the container. Evelyn saw the lid glow brightly as the beam of light was cut off in mid–stream. With nowhere else to go, it blasted out of the remaining gap in a wide horizontal shaft and hit one of the convicts straight in his chest.

  Evelyn saw the man’s body evaporate as though it were a glowing liquid, his face twisting into a grotesque mask of agony before being blasted from his shoulders to arc across the plateau trailing flame and smoke. The rest of his body fell to its knees and collapsed in a smouldering heap on the soil, neatly severed in half, the flesh cauterised to the colour of charcoal.

  The heavy lid slid the rest of the way across its grooves and with a final scream of energy it slammed shut.

  The howling wind around them vanished, the gusting dust and swirling cloud above them shuddering with a last tortured crack of thunder that rattled out across the lonely plains and into the distance. From the thick mist the setting sun broke through to bathe the plateau in a gentle golden light that was reflected in magical hues by the container now sitting before them, heat haze trembling around it.

  The convicts staggered back and away from the containment chamber, their hair trailing whorls of blue smoke.

  Bra’hiv glanced down at the plain below smothered with convict’s corpses and dead carnivores nearby, and then at Evelyn.

  ‘Like death does she wander,’ he murmured. ‘What have you been up to down here?’

  ‘Never mind that. What’s happening up there?’ she countered.

  ‘Is the captain all right?’ Andaim asked.

  ‘We need you, all of you,’ Bra’hiv replied. ‘Hevel’s mutinied and taken the bridge. He’s got to be removed and we’ll need men and muscle to do it. You think you can get Cutler and his people to help out?’

  Evelyn glanced at the gathered convicts standing nearby.

  ‘Cutler’s people?’ Qayin rumbled from among the convicts. ‘And in return for what?’

  ‘A full amnesty,’ Bra’hiv replied, and then addressed the convicts as one. ‘This is no longer a them–and–us situation. You can’t afford to go it alone anymore and neither can we. The Word is almost here, and if we don’t work together we’ll all be dead. Captain Sansin has offered a full pardon, to each and every one of you, if you will take up arms alongside the rest of us against the Word.’

  One of the convicts stood forward. ‘What chance do we have against the Word?’

  Bra’hiv gestured to the fusion core in its shielded containment unit.

  ‘That’s a weapon,’ he replied, ‘and we have fighter craft that can be manned. Most of all, we have a reason to live. The Word is a machine, nothing more. We are not. Think about it. If you stay here you’ll be living in a desert eating dung, and if you think that you’ve got everything you need here then think again: how many women are there?’

  The convicts looked at each other as though it was the first time that they had considered the lack of female company on the planet.

  ‘I know that’s a reason to stay here,’ Bra’hiv said, and got a low chuckle from the convicts, ‘but if you come with us, if you fight for us and we win, you’ll be free again.’

  Another convict shouted out. ‘How can we trust the captain? He sold us out!’

  Qayin shook his head.

  ‘Hevel sold us out,’ he growled back, ‘and took control of the ship. It was Sansin who tried to keep a hold of us. If we want to live we need to take back the Atlantia for ourselves and start fightin’. There’s no more running away.’

  Qayin moved to one side and stood between Andaim and Bra’hiv as he spoke to the convicts. ‘I don’t know about all of you, but I done enough runnin’.’

  The convicts watched Qayin for a long moment, and then one by one they walked toward the waiting shuttle. Cutler moved to follow them. Bra’hiv made to stop him but Evelyn gripped the soldier’s arm.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We need every pair of hands we can get.’

  Bra’hiv stood back, suspicion writ deep upon his features. Evelyn looked at Cutler, who stared at her for a long moment as though he did not understand what he had witnessed.

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  Evelyn knew what he was asking, even though he did not articulate it.

  ‘Because every last human life is worth protecting now,’ she replied. ‘Even yours.’

  Cutler scowled at her, but he marched past and up into the shuttle.

  Evelyn turned to see that the fusion core had been transferred to the

  And then she was running for the shuttle amid churned clouds of dust that shone in the sunlight, and the rear–doors closed as she strapped herself in and the shuttle lifted off and pitched up toward the sky.

  ‘You ready for this?’ Andaim asked.

  Evelyn nodded. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time for it.’

  Andaim cast a glance out of a viewing port and saw the desert sink away, scorched by a blackened stain of destruction cast by the ruptured fusion core.

  ‘Let’s get our ship back.’

  ***

  XXXII

  ‘On screen.’

  The bridge was hushed as the main display switched from a view of the nearby planet to a star field.

  Hevel sat in the captain’s chair, watching the screen as around him the bridge crew stared at the huge vessel cruising toward them. It seemed dwarfed by the vastness of space and the infinite number of stars glowing behind it, but a glance at the scaling register on one side of the screen belied the illusion.

  Although superficially similar in appearance the vessel was almost twice the size of Atlantia, an Avenger–Class battleship that had once been the pride of the colonial fleet. It’s long, slender hull was flanked by two wings that allowed for the carriage of directed energy weapons far superior to Atlantia’s plasma guns, its hull huge enough to bear twin anti–matter engines to provide internal power as well as the energy for its weapons. The Avenger class were power–projection vessels, used to defend the borders of the colonies in time of military tension with other, less cooperative races.

  ‘Range?’ Hevel asked.

  Aranna glanced down at her instruments, her voice monotone in reply. ‘Two planetary diameters, sir. She’ll be with us within an hour or two.’

  ‘Weapons range?’

  ‘She’ll be able to destroy us from at least forty hull lengths,’ Aranna replied. ‘We’re outgunned by a factor of four, sir.’

  Hevel nodded as he surveyed the huge vessel. Once, her hull had been painted a grey–blue and flashed with the insignia of the colonial fleet. Now, the hull was flecked with strange black striations as though she were entombed within a lattice of dark vines.

  ‘What’s happened to her?’ Keyen asked.

  Hevel stood up as he replied.

  ‘She’s being consumed. The same process that happened to the human pop
ulation. I suspect that the standard hull plating is being reconfigured, made tougher somehow using knowledge that we cannot possibly fathom.’

  The Word, that all–consuming sponge of knowledge that had expanded and conquered all of mankind’s populated worlds and then spread its blackened tentacles across the cosmos, now consuming the very vessels upon which it travelled.

  ‘How long before we’re within communication range?’ he asked.

  ‘No more than an hour, sir,’ Lael replied. ‘What do we do now?’

  Hevel tightened his uniform.

  ‘We wait,’ he replied. ‘We wait until we’re as close as we can possibly get before we open fire.’

  Lael, manning her station across the bridge, stared at Hevel as though he were insane.

  ‘Sir, that ship will blast us into history long before our weapons will be within optimum range. If we wait, we die.’

  Hevel nodded slowly. ‘That’s what I want them to think.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Lael pressed. ‘We need a cohesive plan of attack.’

  Hevel turned to face the crew.

  ‘We’re going to let her come in close,’ he replied, ‘and then we’re going to move to an attack position and ram her. We’re big enough, and fast enough, to do sufficient damage to her that she will never be able to recover.’

  ‘That’s insane, sir,’ Lael replied. ‘The whole point of being here was to stand and fight, not commit suicide.’

  ‘You heard Bra’hiv’s report,’ Hevel replied. ‘The battle must be fought here and it must be over as quickly as possible. The only weapon we possess which may be powerful enough to destroy that battleship is our entire vessel. The Atlantia has enough mass to tear the Avenger in half, provided we can get close enough.’

  ‘And if we can’t?’

  Hevel turned to the main screen and smiled.

  ‘We will,’ he replied. ‘The Word was made by humans, built by us to be like us. It has our insatiable curiosity. If we sit here and make no effort to run, show no sign of fear, it will be drawn in to us. Then, in the final moments, we will strike.’

  Hevel turned to Dhalere, who nodded.

  ‘Atlantia’s mass is sufficient and the destruction of our fusion engines will likely cause permanent damage to the Avenger’s primary drives, disabling her and perhaps even destroying her. It will work.’

  Hevel nodded and looked at the bridge crew.

  ‘We have a duty. We are not the last of our kind. There will be more, and as of this time they are uninfected, safe from the Word. If we do not stop the Word decisively, and prevent its spread to this planet, then surely they will be crushed as so many of us once were.’

  The bridge crew’s gazes remained fixed on Hevel as he surveyed them and found them willing to do their duty.

  ‘It will be so,’ he said. ‘Prepare the ship for battle.’

  An alert beeped on the tactical officer’s panel and Keyen called out to Hevel.

  ‘A shuttle is leaving the planet’s atmosphere sir,’ he reported.

  ‘What shuttle?!’ Hevel shot back. ‘I did not order a launch!’

  Keyen peered down at his screen.

  ‘I’m picking up a huge energy concentration aboard the shuttle, sir.’

  Hevel moved down off the command platform and across the bridge to look over the officer’s shoulder.

  ‘What kind of energy?’ he asked.

  Keyen frowned, shook his head.

  ‘I can’t be sure sir, the shuttle’s hull plating is confusing the signal, but whatever it is it’s powerful enough to show up on our scanners.’

  Hevel stared suspiciously at the screen.

  ‘Where is Bra’hiv?’

  ‘I thought that he was conducting a training exercise in the launch bay?’

  ‘On screen.’

  The image of the Avenger vanished to be replaced by a broad canvass of blue oceans flecked with white cloud, and against it the tiny speck of the shuttle craft accelerating to orbital speed as it closed in on the Atlantia.

  ‘How many people are aboard?’ Hevel asked.

  Keyen scanned his instruments. ‘I read at least eighty people, sir. That’s far too many.’

  Hevel clenched his fists at his sides as he stared at the shuttle.

  ‘Contact them, find out what’s going on.’

  Aranna keyed her microphone and spoke quickly and efficiently into it.

  ‘Ranger Six, report casualties, status and persons aboard?’

  A hiss of static whistled across the link with the shuttle as Bra’hiv’s reply echoed through the bridge.

  ‘Ranger Six, three casualties, all despatched personnel accounted for, status green.’

  Hevel peered at the approaching shuttle and keyed his personal microphone on the captain’s seat.

  ‘What the hell were you doing down there?’ he asked.

  ‘Retrieving the fusion core sir,’ came the response. ‘To fight the Word.’

  ‘We read eighty persons aboard,’ Hevel growled.

  ‘Negative,’ Bra’hiv replied, ‘our engine was damaged after take off by debris from the surface. It’s throwing all of our sensors out too. I’ll be approaching on manual control.’

  Hevel peered at the shuttle craft. ‘I see no damage, and you were not ordered to leave this ship!’

  The transmission crackled and popped with static, Bra’hiv’s response unreadable. Hevel switched off the microphone and turned to his bridge crew.

  ‘Tactical? Activate the port bow turrets.’

  Keyen obeyed without question, but Lael’s eyes flew wide as she stared at Hevel. ‘What?’

  ‘They’ve been compromised,’ Hevel snapped. ‘We cannot trust them.’

  ‘Compromised by whom?’ Mikhain demanded.

  Hevel ignored them both and pointed at Keyen. ‘Blast them, now!’

  ‘Yes sir, target acquired.’

  ‘No!’

  Lael launched herself across the bridge and ploughed into Keyen, smashing him clear of his post as they crashed down onto the hard deck plating.

  ‘Security!’

  Lael straddled Keyen and swung a punch with her bunched right fist as he tried to get up and throw her off. The blow smacked into his mouth with a loud crack and a stab of pain that bolted through her knuckles. Keyen’s eyes rolled up into their sockets as he slumped down, and Lael leaped to her feet and grabbed the microphone.

  ‘Ranger Six, evasive action, you’re compromised and…’

  Security guards thundered up onto the tactical post and hauled Lael away from the microphone. She kicked and fought but the soldiers were too strong for her as they pulled her away and bound her wrists behind her back with steel manacles.

  Mikhain punched one of them clear over a console before he too was overpowered and manacled.

  Hevel, his hands behind his back, turned to Aranna.

  ‘If you will.’

  Aranna stood without a word and strode to the tactical position. Her hands flew across the keys as though he had manned the station for a decade. Lael stared at him, her eyes wide as Aranna activated the turrets.

  ‘Aranna, what the hell are you doing?!’

  Aranna did not reply, and then Lael saw Hevel approach her. A cold sliver of fear slithered deep inside her belly as Hevel, his hands behind his back and a smile on his face, walked up to her and stared unblinkingly into her eyes.

  ‘Don’t fear, Lael,’ he said. ‘You’ll understand, soon, that this is all for you, all for us.’

  Hevel smiled and Lael gasped as she saw the whites of his eyes flicker as black flecks darted back and forth behind them. She craned her head back over her shoulder and saw the two guards holding her, their eyes filled with writhing black specks.

  ‘No,’ she gasped. ‘You’re going to kill us all!’

  ‘I’m going to save you all,’ Hevel grinned. ‘This, Lael, is your destiny. It is all mankind’s destiny and you cannot escape or avoid it. This is our future.’

  ‘He’s infected!�
�� Lael shouted at Mikhain, looking desperately at the bridge crew.

  Mikhain was helpless as he saw the crew stare back at them, their features devoid of emotion as though they were waxworks carved by human hands and left standing at their posts. The light of life in their eyes had suddenly been extinguished by the infection surging through their bodies.

  ‘Take them both to the holding cells,’ Hevel ordered the guards. ‘I will deal with all of them shortly.’

  As Lael and Mikhain were dragged away, Hevel turned to Aranna.

  ‘The shuttle,’ he ordered, ‘destroy it now!’

  ***

  XXXIII

  ‘Ranger Six, evasive action, you’re compromised and…’

  Bra’hiv looked up in surprise at the Atlantia as the sound of Lael’s voice was abruptly cut off.

  ‘What was that about?’ Andaim asked as he approached the cockpit, Evelyn beside him as Bra’hiv grabbed the controls.

  ‘Whatever it is it’s not good news. Strap in!’

  Evelyn hauled herself into her seat just as the hull of the Atlantia flared brightly and a fearsome ball of flickering blue energy flashed toward the shuttle.

  ‘Evasive action!’ Bra’hiv yelled as he hauled the shuttle up, gas thrusters igniting on her lower bow as the computers sought to adjust the craft’s plane of motion.

  The energy pulse flared in the viewing screen and flashed past beneath them. The shuttle rocked violently and then tumbled as a blast hit it from behind. A shower of plasma flashed past the screen and an alarm sounded inside the cockpit as Bra’hiv fought for control.

  ‘Shrapnel damage,’ he yelled. ‘We’ve lost two aft thrusters!’

  Evelyn’s hair swayed back and forth as though she were underwater in a storm as the turbulence from the blast shuddered through the shuttle’s hull. She looked over her shoulder, to where the eighty or so marines and convicts were strapped in with the ark magnetically attached to the deck in between them. The fusion core crackled with restrained energy inside its containment unit, sending expressions of deep concern across the faces of the watching men.

  ‘How long until we dock?’ Andaim asked.

  Bra’hiv regained control of the shuttle, grimly hanging on to the controls as he looked at his instruments.