by Worth, Dan
Rekkid stepped forward and asked for more light to be directed at the words carved into the rock. He compared the two columns of text and referred to the list of words that they had already acquired from the scant bilingual inscriptions. He found matching words in both columns. Each column bore the same message, inscribed in both languages. Rekkid took a deep breath and then began to decode the language of the dead planet.
Chapter 14
The Meritarch Council vessel - a huge, fat bellied craft - hung above the ruined world of Gigarethme, flanked by four Navy dreadnoughts that sculled lazily as they maintained orbit. Within, the remainder of the Meritarch Council sat in a smaller version of the Council Chamber on Keros. There were empty seats as the positions of many of the murdered Council members had not yet all been filled and others were still recovering from their neural trauma. The vacant positions were instead filled with small bouquets of black tear blossoms as a mark of remembrance for the deceased or wounded. The Council had been in debate for some hours regarding the recent Shaper attack. It was now Beklide’s turn to speak.
Beklide stood at the dais in front of the amphitheatre of seats, the wall behind her displaying a feed from the ship’s external cameras that showed the ruined world beneath them. Even from this height, the cataclysmic damage inflicted by the Shapers was clear to see. The atmosphere was choked with clouds of dust and ash as well as vast cloud banks formed from the evaporated oceans. Through gaps in the pall of smoke, continent-wide fires could still be seen burning below, despite the attempts of the relief effort to quell the infernos. Rippling chains of lightning punctuated the black clouds in flickering patterns of light. It was a hellish scene, one which had been repeated across dozens of Arkari worlds.
‘What you see before you is the death of the Arkari race,’ Beklide began. ‘If the Shapers return, and they will, the fate of Gigarethme will be repeated across every Arkari planet until we as a species have been exterminated or cowed by the might of the invader. I invited you all here to see for yourselves the destruction that they have wrought.’
‘We are all aware of the carnage inflicted during the recent attack,’ said the Council Speaker. ‘Almost all of us have lost someone dear to us. I know that you had family here on Gigarethme, Beklide. You have our sincere condolences, but I fail to see what the true purpose of this excursion is. We should be concentrating on how the Shapers managed to subvert our hypercom systems. How could they perform such a feat? Virus programs are a relic of the distant past. Even the humans’ systems are relatively immune and they lack our much vaunted AI technology.’
Beklide’s hands gripped the lectern. ‘To answer the Esteemed Member’s last question, our initial assessments appear to show that this was not the work of a mere virus, more the work of carefully constructed AI programs inserted gradually into our systems over some length of time - hence why the Shapers cannot attack our ships in battle in such a manner. To answer the first question: the purpose of this excursion is for you all to see first-hand what war means. This Council has become complacent and timid. For too long we have cowered behind our defences, defences which have been shown to be lacking. For years now, we in the Navy have urged this house to take greater, decisive action against the Shapers. We have sat here and let the enemy walk up to our gates whilst the civilisations around us, some of whom we call friends, are convulsed amidst the turmoil of civil wars that the Shapers engendered. Now I say: no more. I implore you to unleash the full military might of the Arkari people against the enemy. Let us take the battle to them, let them cower in fear at our approach, let their worlds burn, let them weep for the slaughter of their people!’
‘What do you propose? That we send ships to aid the Commonwealth?’ said the Speaker.
‘Not directly, no. We can serve both ourselves and our allies better in another way. Since the attack, I and my closest advisors have been working upon a plan of action to strike at the heart of the Shapers. With the centre of their empire and their controlling intelligences destroyed, the Shapers’ control over their dominions will begin to loosen and eventually fall apart. To this end, I put before you the following motion: that this house votes to place the Arkari Sphere and its people on a footing of total war. This is to be a war of annihilation and it is the Shapers, not the Arkari, who deserved to be wiped from the face of this galaxy so that the freedom of all races can be upheld!’
Her words were met with the sounds of cheering from the assembled ranks of delegates. The Speaker called for order amidst the cacophony of voices.
‘This council will now vote on the motion put before it by the Esteemed Member, namely that this government should formally declare war on the alien civilisation known colloquially as the Shapers and that as such, this government should grant itself emergency powers placing the Arkari Sphere on a war footing until hostilities are deemed to have ceased.’
There was a brief moment of silence whilst the assembled Meritarchs placed their votes. When all votes had been submitted, the Speaker examined the small holo-display by the arm of her chair and announced the results.
‘Results are as follows: Those in favour, nine hundred and three. Those against, one. Five abstentions and ninety one members absent due to recent death or injury. Motion is carried. Esteemed Members, from this moment we, the Arkari people, are at war with the Shapers. Fleet Meritarch Beklide, you are hereby ordered to use all necessary means to ensure the destruction of the enemy.’
Beklide stood in front of the Council to the sound of rapturous applause.
The dreadnought Sword of Reckoning was powering away from the Gigarethme system at maximum velocity, the enormous warship’s engines straining at full power. Beklide sat in her command couch in the middle of the vessel’s bridge, course and systems data projected in front her in holographic displays. Her second in command, Ship Master Urkild finished talking with a group of junior officers as he entered the bridge and strode over to her.
‘Welcome back Meritarch, I gather that your meeting with the other Council members went well. It seems you finally convinced them of the need for decisive action.’
‘I let the Shapers do most of the talking,’ Beklide replied. ‘Even now the Council are being shuttled down to the surface of Gigarethme to see the destruction of the planet up close. In case any of them have any lingering doubts about their decision.’
‘I believe that the humans have a saying appropriate to these situations: now the gloves come off.’
‘Yes, indeed. How long until all ships that I have summoned arrive at the rendezvous co-ordinates?’
‘Most ships have already arrived, Meritarch. They merely wait for our arrival.’
‘Excellent.’
‘If I might ask, where will we be headed once we join them?’
‘The planet Maranos, in the Fulan system.’
Chapter 15
Haines stumbled through the darkness, his boots slipping on rocks that were slick with water and worn smooth by its passage. The beam of his torch wavered crazily ahead of him as he attempted to run headlong into near pitch darkness. More than once he had banged his head on low hanging protrusions and barked his shins on boulders hidden in the shadows. He could feel a trickle of blood working its way down his left temple, and another creeping down into his boots. It didn’t matter, he had to keep running.
Dawson was close behind him, running also, pausing only to glance backwards for signs of their pursuers and once, to pick Haines up off the cave floor where he had fallen. With his helmet’s vision aids, Dawson found the going a little easier than the Admiral, but it was still difficult for him to clearly distinguish the outline of the tunnel’s interior and the rocks that were strewn around the floor through the monochrome image offered by his visor.
They had lost contact with the others in the tunnels and the two men had become separated at first, before they had stumbled into one another in the dark, Dawson charging headlong from a side tunnel and almost bowling Haines over as he collided with him. Down he
re, their suit comms failed to work properly most of the time - the signals could not penetrate so much solid rock and the smooth, volcanic rock that formed the tunnel walls had a habit of crazily reflecting them. Occasionally, they had made brief contact with the others, only to have it snatched away from them. They caught snatches of urgent cries, the sound of gun fire and explosions. The only possible plus side was that the reflective nature of the cave walls appeared to be also affecting the ability of the Shapers to locate them effectively.
Occasionally the sounds of battle would echo down the passageway after Haines and Dawson, booming off the black, glistening walls. At one point, a hot wind had gusted down the tunnel following a particularly large explosion that had caused the cave to shake around them as they ran. After that, there was no more contact with the others, no more sounds of a struggle. They had pressed onwards in silence, the only sounds now being the splashing of their boots in the shallow stream that ran along the bottom of the passage and their own laboured breathing.
Haines tripped and fell again, catching the toe of his boot on a jutting lip of rock. Dawson reached down and pulled the older man to his feet.
‘Sir, we have to keep going,’ said the marine captain. ‘It’s you that they want.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Haines replied, struggling for breath. ‘If you had any sense, son, you’d make a run for it.’
‘Can’t do that, sir. You’re too valuable. If the Shapers get hold of you...’
‘If it comes to it, Dawson, I’ll end things myself,’ Haines replied and gestured with his pistol. ‘I’d rather shoot myself in the head than let those things get inside it. Come on, let’s move.’
They stumbled on through the darkness.
In truth, Haines knew that if caught he might have little chance to do such a thing as kill himself. The enemy moved with a shocking speed. The Shaper had rushed the marines like a swarm of angry bees and - he still shuddered to recall it – the creature had literally taken McCabe apart. The insect-like creatures that made up the sentient swarm had covered him in a split second, even forcing their way down his throat, and then the swarm had scattered in different directions and poor McCabe had exploded in a welter of blood and gore as enslaved PDF troopers had entered the cavern and begun firing. Haines and the others had started running in a blind panic and in the confusion they had become separated from one another in the passageways and chambers of the subterranean labyrinth.
Haines had made the sensible decision of sticking to the route that the stream had carved through the ancient lava tunnels. Surely, he had reasoned, it had to emerge into the open air sooner or later, and the trickle of water shone in his torch beam and was easy to follow. Still, it was the most obvious route for him to be following. There was always the possibility that someone might be waiting at the other end, assuming that there was a way out of course. He had considered the possibility that maybe the water seeped down through cracks in the rocks and collected underground before flowing out of the tunnels and that maybe they were trapped underground with the enemy between them and the only exit. He swore he could hear whispered voices, the presence of another consciousness searching for him down here, a predatory thing enjoying the thrill of the hunt.
The tunnel was definitely heading upwards now. Though it made the going more difficult as they were forced to pick their way up and over a series of underground waterfalls, and boulders made slippery with spray and pallid, slimy growths, it gave them hope that they were heading for the exit. Dawson was helping Haines up a particularly tricky set of falls where the water plunged over a shelf of lava when a horrifying scream echoed back up the tunnel towards them from the direction they had just come from. It was the prolonged sound of a man in unbearable pain, dying in this lightless place at the hands of an implacable foe.
‘Jesus,’ said Dawson. ‘My men, I...’
Haines saw the expression on Dawson’s face. He knew that look. The Captain wanted to go back in search of his lost men, wanted to save them from the entity that was killing them one by one in the tunnels. It would be a fruitless exercise.
‘Your men are most likely dead,’ said Haines. ‘Hell, they’re my men too. Captain, I’m sorry but you can’t save them. Going back down that tunnel is suicide. We have to keep going. You saw what that thing did to McCabe. We can’t fight that. Not now.’
‘Yes sir, I know. I’m sorry it’s just...’
‘Captain, I’m truly sorry, I am. It’s a terrible fact, but since we all got separated it’s every man for himself down here. Help me up. There’ll be time enough for revenge later.’
Dawson nodded, his face ashen with fear and grief as he took Haines’ hand and pulled him up over the black, wet rocks. The whispered voices at the back of Haines’s mind spoke of relishing the kill, the pathetic struggling and whimpering of the prey, and then the devouring of its pathetic, biological mind. He saw Dawson shudder. Evidently he heard those voices too.
They struggled on, the tunnel’s angle of ascent becoming ever steeper until they were climbing hand over hand up an eroded cliff composed of hexagonal columns where the lava had cooled and cracked into regular, geometric shapes. The stream splashed over these, spattering them with moisture as it fell. Finally, reaching the top, they could see a dim patch of lesser darkness against the utter blackness of the cavern that contained scattered points of light. A cool breath of air touched their skin. At last, they had found their way out of the tunnels.
Resisting the urge to rush forwards to the exit, Haines and Dawson moved carefully towards the mouth of the cave, weapons drawn in case of ambush. Dawson led the way, searching with the aid of his suit’s inbuilt sensors for signs of movement. Satisfied that there were no obvious signs of enemies lying in wait, he moved forward, weapon at his shoulder ready to fire in case of ambush. Haines followed him, his pistol cocked and ready.
They emerged into the cool of the night air. Scanning around to left and right they found themselves within the caldera of a long extinct volcano. The walls, long eroded over time and covered with scrubby vegetation, curved away on all sides. Much of the caldera floor was filled with a lake of still water that reflected the sky, and which drained into the cave system that they had just exited. There were no enemies in sight. Dawson looked at his map display and got a fix on their position.
‘This way, sir,’ he said and indicated northwards with his hand.
Haines nodded and followed him. There was no time to wait for the others. Surely it wouldn’t take the enemy long to figure out where they were. Haines and Dawson would have to hope that if any of the other members of the squad escaped they would have the sense to head in the same direction.
Walking quickly in the light from Tethys, high and gibbous in the sky above their heads, they made their way up the sloping sides of the caldera. Though the gas giant dominated the heavens, Haines’ attention was drawn to the other lights up there, the ones that moved quickly alone or in groups, winking in and out of visibility. They were ships; large ones judging by how easily visible they were from the ground. Morgan must be reinforcing the system’s defences, he mused. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the rest of the Commonwealth. What of the Solar System? What of Earth? He longed to get off this moon and back into space with a good ship under him, where he could make a difference.
They climbed the rocky lip of the caldera and flopped down amid the wind-blown scrub that clustered around the few scraps of cover. Keeping low, Dawson peered over the edge and used his helmet’s magnification to look back at the mouth of the cave. For a moment he saw nothing, and then there was movement. A figure was emerging from the cave. Dawson signalled to Haines then zoomed his view in closer and saw a man dressed in Marine Corp fatigues. Dawson’s comm. crackled in his ear.
‘Captain, this is Philips. I made it out of the caves. If you can hear this signal, please report your position. Over.’
‘I’m getting a transmission. It’s Philips,’ said Dawson. ‘He’s requesting that
we report our position so that he can find us. Something isn’t right.’
‘It’s not him, at least not anymore,’ said Haines. ‘Or if not, he’s lost his mind requesting that we send information like that over an open channel.’
‘My thoughts exactly, sir.’
‘It’s a pretty cheap trick to pull. They can’t think very much of us if they think we’ll fall for that.’
‘Captain Dawson, this is Philips, please respond. Over.’
Haines heard the faint squawking in Dawson’s ear and nodded once.
‘Turn that thing off, son. Let’s get the hell out of here before they send in air support again to look for us. Now that they know where that cave system came out, it won’t take them long.’
Heading north, they scrambled down the steep slopes of the extinct volcano towards the welcome cover of the jungle below. Fortunately, there was enough light from the gas giant in the sky above them to light the way, but even so the going was difficult. Broken rocks and slopes of scree made the terrain treacherous underfoot. Haines fell first, slipping backwards on loose gravel as he half-walked half-ran down the steep mountainside. He picked himself up again with barely a pause then continued his headlong rush towards the welcoming trees below him. Dawson fell a few minutes later, slipping sideways into a hidden hole beneath his feet. Haines saw him go down and feared the worst, that Dawson might have snapped his ankle and thus be unable to walk. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the man get up, gingerly put his weight onto his right foot and then, satisfied there was no serious damage, continue on his way.
Finally, gratefully, they reached the trees. Haines recognised them in the darkness - these were the same as the species that formed the great forest to the south that his escape pod had landed in, their oddly regular pattern of branches visible in the pale planet-light. He welcomed them like an old friend, only stopping when the trees grew dense and tall and the night sky above was no longer visible. Hopefully the dense, moisture-soaked undergrowth would interfere with the instruments of anyone looking for them.