Progeny (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book Three)

by Worth, Dan

  ‘Okay,’ said Haines, his breath rasping in his throat. ‘This old man needs to rest a moment.’

  ‘No problem, sir. I don’t think they’re following us.’

  ‘Me neither, for the moment. Jesus, I thought the bastards had us back there. I’m truly sorry about the rest of the men, Captain. Really, I am. But it wouldn’t have done us any good.’

  ‘It’s my fault sir, they’re my guys and morale just collapsed when that thing that... that...’

  ‘That Shaper, son.’

  ‘Yes sir. When the Shaper tore McCabe apart... all I could think of was getting away, getting as far away as possible. The others turned and ran too. We ceased to function as a unit and we paid the price, sir. It’s my fault, I was their squad commander. Their deaths were my responsibility.’ Haines noticed that the younger man’s hands were shaking.

  ‘No, son. If we’d have stood and fought, we’d all be dead by now or in captivity, or worse. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I brought us here in the first place. You were all aboard my ships when the Shapers won the battle up there.’ He jabbed a finger skywards. ‘It’s my failure if it’s anybody’s. I’m the senior officer here.’

  ‘How can we kill them, sir? There has to be a way.’

  ‘Yeah, there has to be,’ said Haines. ‘We can’t run forever. Sooner or later we’ll run out of places to run to. How far to the makeshift camp?’

  ‘Not far, sir. We should be there in a few hours, all being well.’

  ‘How’s the ankle? That looked like a pretty nasty fall back there. I didn’t expect you to get up so easily.’

  ‘I’ll live. Guess I got lucky. There doesn’t seem to be any serious damage.’

  ‘Good. Okay, let’s move out. First we need to reach that camp of yours, get any survivors we have left together and then we can start making plans.’

  ‘What sort of plans, sir?’

  ‘I intend to get off this rock as soon as possible.’

  Hours later and the two exhausted men stumbled wearily into the makeshift camp deep under the trees in the heart of the forest. Camouflage netting was strung between the kilometre high tree trunks, below which a collection of tents huddled in the dark, green tinted gloom. They were greeted by the men and women on watch around the perimeter of the camp, their faces broadening in grins as they saw the Admiral and saluted, though when they saw Dawson without the rest of his squad, there were many urgent questions and reactions of shock and grief. All in all, there were around thirty survivors in the camp. The loss of Dawson’s squad was a bitter blow, both in terms of numbers and psychologically.

  Dawson and Haines had walked to the camp unhindered. Occasionally they had been forced to huddle in the darkness beneath the trees as aerial vehicles, both human and Shaper, had passed overhead going southwards, but no craft appeared to have followed them and no-one appeared to be following them into the forest. Haines had privately wondered about that. Surely if Dawson’s squad had been captured by the Shaper and subjected to whatever horrors it had in store for them as it devoured their minds, the enemy would have learned the location of the marines’ camp by now? Nevertheless, when Haines quizzed the marines in the camp, none of them had seen any enemy activity in the vicinity. Dawson assured him, however, that plans would be made to move the camp to a different location. Haines wearily agreed. He needed sleep more than anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he had in fact slept properly at all, save for a few snatches of shut eye before he had encountered Dawson’s squad. He had been too on edge, too fuelled by adrenaline, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, too afraid to sleep properly.

  Dawson had one of his men show Haines to a vacant tent with an unused bedroll inside and Haines felt into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.

  Haines was awoken by the sight of a young private standing over him clutching a cup of coffee. Haines took it from him gratefully and sipped at the hot drink. It was the instant stuff from the ration packs. It had an acrid taste, but he didn’t care, it was warming and it would wake him up. The private left and returned a few moments later with some heated rations. Haines balanced the plastic tray on his knees and began to wolf them down, his stomach suddenly realising how long it had been since he’d had a proper meal. Normally these dried emergency rations tasted terrible to him, lacking the flavour and consistency of fresh produce, but right now the reconstituted egg and cubes of processed meat tasted like the best thing he’d had in ages.

  ‘How long have I been asleep?’ he asked the private.

  ‘About eight hours sir,’ the man responded. ‘We’re almost ready to move out.’

  ‘I hope you weren’t waiting around on my account,’ Haines replied.

  ‘No sir. There was some enemy air activity during the night. Captain Dawson thought it prudent to wait until the coast was clear.’

  ‘Tell him I’ll be out as soon as I’ve finished this.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  The private left Haines to finish his meal.

  Feeling somewhat refreshed, Haines stepped out of the tent into the dimly lit campsite, now largely packed away into the backpacks of the men and women awaiting his leadership, and onto two heavily laden AG pallets that had been salvaged from one of the downed dropships. Captain Dawson stood in the middle of the group, looking similarly recovered from his ordeal. He saw Haines and saluted.

  ‘How do you feel, sir?’ he said.

  ‘Much better, Captain. I never thought those ration packs could taste so good. How about you?’

  ‘I’m okay, sir.’

  Haines took one look at the man’s expression and could tell immediately that he really wasn’t.

  ‘I take it none of the squad showed up?’

  Dawson nodded sadly.

  ‘You did the best you could, so you didn’t fail your men,’ said Haines, keeping his voice low. ‘We were cornered by a much superior opponent. You’re still alive, and you got me this far. You did nothing wrong.’

  ‘Morale broke down, everyone ran.’

  ‘Your commanding officer included,’ Haines replied. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. Sometimes these things happen in war. There’ll be a time for payback, but you’ve gotta keep it together until then. Okay?

  ‘Yes sir. Thank you sir.’

  ‘How’s the leg?’

  ‘A little stiff, but I’m okay. We have a medic with us, sir. I can have her look you over.’

  ‘Just cuts and bruises son, save for this broken nose, and that doesn’t stop me from walking. I’d rather just get moving.’

  ‘They sent out a couple of scouts from the camp just before we arrived. There’s a good site about twenty clicks north east of here. It’ll put us within striking distance of a small commercial freight terminal. Our scouts spotted a couple of small freighters parked on the landing pads there. We can try and seize one and pilot it out of the system. You said you wanted to get off this rock, sir. We may have a chance to do so.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan to me, Captain,’ said Haines turned to address the others. ‘Okay people, we’ve been presented with an opportunity. I intend to take it. I want you to know how grateful I am to have such dedicated men and women under my command. You survived, you kept up the fight against the enemy and you succeeded in pulling my ass out of the fire and bringing me here. Your hard work and your tenacity is to be commended and you may have given us a chance to get off this moon and back to our friends. Let’s move out!’

  They moved off in column. Haines, Dawson and the supplies at the centre, scouts probing ahead and guarding the flanks and a couple of men trailing to watch for anyone, or anything, following them. All of them maintained radio silence in case of detection by the enemy. In the deep forest, the sea green light filtering through the many layers of foliage above illuminated the vaulted spaces through which they moved in near silence. The vast trunks of the trees, tens of metres in diameter, marched off into the dimly lit distance on all sides like the columns of an enormous cathedral. There was v
ery little undergrowth down here, save for large patches of fungus-like growths that fed on the dead plant and animal matter that sifted down from the upper levels of the forest, and there were few animals to be seen either except for the large insects that scurried amongst the fungus beds and the occasional large eyed, sharp toothed, timid creatures that fed upon them and fled at the first sign of the humans’ approach. An all pervading mist rose from the damp leaf mould, hampering visibility and lending the entire scene an even more unearthly air and filling their nostrils with the rich scent of decomposition. Shafts of sunlight occasionally managed to pierce the gloom, their golden rays stabbing downwards through the mist whilst the figures of the men far out on the flanks could be glimpsed through the mist, appearing insubstantial and ghostlike.

  The marines talked little. It was partly out of caution, but mainly because the oppressive atmosphere down here hushed everyone into silence. Even when they spoke, they kept their voices low, lest they disturb the deathly quiet of the forest.

  Haines had exchanged a few words with the other officers present, a Lieutenant by the name of Bagley and her counterpart from the other dropship called Cortez. They had filled him in on their experiences since they had landed on the moon: The constant need for vigilance, night-time guerrilla warfare against the patrols that had been sent to track them down and the need to remain constantly on the move, changing their position for fear of discovery. He had related the story of his journey from the escape pod, how he had been found by Captain Dawson and his men and how they had been pursued and eventually cornered, he and Dawson barely escaping with their lives, the fate of the others as yet unknown. That had been hours ago. Now everyone trudged along in near silence.

  Eventually, they began to pass ruins, half concealed beneath the leaf mould and fungal growths on the forest floor. They were barely visible at first, just geometric shapes on the ground, but soon low, broken walls could be seen amongst the trees, their ancient surfaces heavily eroded by untold aeons and slick with moisture and slime. The ruins grew more frequent until soon it became clear that they were walking down the ancient remains of a broad boulevard. They had stumbled into the ruins of a long dead city, concealed for who knows how long beneath the towering trees.

  As the walls grew progressively higher, the marines began to grow nervous. The ruins provided places for potential ambushers to lurk. Gripping their weapons tightly and using what instruments they had available they pressed onwards, watching and listening for signs of the enemy. They heard nothing except for the constant dripping of water from the upper branches and saw nothing moving amidst the silent trees and ancient ruins.

  Dawson tapped Haines on the shoulder and pointed at a nearby wall. There were carvings on its surface depicting ape-like forms in armour. They were depicted hanging from their muscular arms, weapons gripped between prehensile toes. Part of the wall was coated with accumulated debris and fungus. Dawson stepped over and brushed some away to reveal the rest of the relief work. The figure of an Arkari was clearly visible carved into the stone, its weapon raised against the ape creatures. Dawson ran a hand over the weathered design, the brittle stone crumbling slightly at his touch.

  ‘So, the Dryads built this place,’ said Haines, inspecting the carvings.

  ‘The Dryads?’ said Dawson, incredulously. ‘But they’re just animals, aren’t they?’

  ‘Either them or another species related to them, judging by these carvings. Something catastrophic must have happened to them in the distant past. My guess is that the Arkari happened to them,’ said Haines and pointed at the carved figure.

  ‘The Arkari? But the Arkari would never...’

  ‘Not now they wouldn’t, but they haven’t always been so benign. There’s a lot you don’t know... hell, there’s a lot most of the Arkari didn’t know about their own past until quite recently. It’s how this whole mess that we’re in got started. Do you know much about history, Captain?’

  ‘A little, sir.’

  ‘Sometimes I think we humans are like medieval peasants wandering amidst the ruins of Rome, gawking open mouthed at the remains and wondering who could have built such places. There are countless ages of galactic history, filled with civilisations that came and went in an eye-blink. The Dryads built this city, hell they may have terraformed this moon, but they too disappeared from history. We may be one such race, Captain. Perhaps we need to face that.’

  ‘You said the Arkari had a hidden past.’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it some other time. We need to keep moving.’

  They moved onwards through the ruins, beneath the silent, dripping trees. The mist was getting thicker now. The ruins loomed out of the thick enveloping fog, the overgrown lumps of stone and concrete taking on the ghostly shapes of weird, impossible creatures lurking on the forest floor. The men were tense. No-one spoke. Marines fingered their weapons nervously.

  Just for a second Haines spotted the man out on the left flank through a gap in the mists, a shadowy figure beneath the trees. Something wasn’t right. Something about the way that the man moved set alarm bells ringing in Haines’s head. The man walked like an automaton, rather than the natural, fluid movements of a soldier on patrol. At the back of his mind Haines heard the whispers again. It was the same voice he had heard in the tunnels, as if someone were uttering words just out of range of his hearing. He reached for his gun.

  ‘Do you know something Admiral?’ said Dawson, in a matter of fact tone of voice. ‘I’ve been walking on this broken ankle since yesterday. Now, how do you think that that’s possible?’

  Haines turned and looked at Dawson. The man’s expression had changed. Someone else, something other than the Marine captain was looking back at him through Dawson’s eyes, something pitiless and predatory.

  ‘Jesus...’ breathed Haines as monsters exploded out of the forest around them.

  Chapter 16

  Chen watched the flotilla of ships as they departed the system from the ward room of the Trafalgar and felt a twinge of regret that she was not going with them. The massive carriers moved in formation with their escorts as they powered away from Earth, the engines of the warships forming a bright constellation against the backdrop of stars. The first of the carrier battle groups were being deployed to Beta Hydri system to hold the line against any further enemy incursions. Half of the Nahabe ships belonging to the Order of Void Hunters had already left for these systems to provide support against Shaper vessels. The other half - including the gunsphere of their commander, the Lord Protector, had remained in the Solar System for the time being.

  The past few days had been quite eventful. First she had been required to attend the memorial services for the victims of the attacks on Galileo Station and Amazonia Port. The President’s own personal liner, a heavily customised Stork class vessel, had proceeded first to Jovian space and then back to Earth, flanked by an honour guard of ships that had survived the battle. Chen had been aboard the liner as an honoured guest. In full dress uniform amid an audience of dignitaries both civilian and military, she had watched the memorial services at both sites. The President’s speeches had been moving, heartfelt and defiant, but Chen felt sick to her stomach. The deaths of so many innocents had been on her watch. She had tried to tell herself that she had done the best that she could with the ships that she had had available, but it didn’t take away the awful hollow feeling inside her.

  A couple of days later she had again been invited to Naval Headquarters where the President had publicly awarded her the Medal of Valour, the Commonwealth’s highest military honour. Chen had accepted the medal, and had her hand shaken warmly by the President in front of a legion of press eager to see the heroic defender of Earth. She had smiled and answered their barrage of questions as best she could, replying that it was a great honour, how she was proud to do her duty and she paid tribute to her crew and those of the other vessels who had fought alongside her, and to those who hadn’t made it. Her face was all over the news. Apparently she’d beco
me something of an icon.

  But deep down, she felt that she didn’t deserve it. She had failed those people trapped inside Amazonia Port when the Shapers had struck. All the medals in the world wouldn’t help those who had died amidst the storm of enemy fire or in the cold vacuum of space and it was the Nahabe, not her, who had finally driven the enemy away. The bright blue ribbon of the Medal of Valour with its stylised Earth symbol stitched at the centre adorned the left breast of her uniform along with the others that she had acquired over the years. It was everything that she had ever hoped for when she had joined the Navy all those years ago and now she had won the ultimate prize, her achievement felt like a hollow one.

  Admiral Cartwright entered the room behind her and followed her gaze out through the thick, armoured windows to the ships now disappearing one by one into hyperspace.

  ‘Wish you were going with them?’ he said.

  ‘Yes sir,’ Chen replied, turning to face her superior and saluting.

  ‘You’ll get your chance soon enough, Admiral Chen. How are the repairs to the Churchill coming along?’

  ‘The structural damage has been repaired. The repair crews are in the process of fitting new outer hull sections and we’re waiting on the replacement turrets. My Chief Engineer estimates another three days if the turrets arrive on schedule.’

  ‘Excellent. Well, you’ll be back in the fight soon enough in that case.’

  ‘Yes sir. Sir, I’ve seen the lists of replacement crew assigned to my ship to replace the casualties we sustained. I don’t see a new XO amongst them.’