Glory Point (Gigaparsec Book 4)

by Scott Rhine

  After updating their self-destruct mechanism to account for the swarm, Deep 7 aimed for the soft underbelly of the Phib fleet. The intercept would be in high orbit around the ideal planet.

  33. Where Angels Fear to Tread

  When the cloud of torpedoes and Deep 7 appeared behind the fleet, the Phibs and Saurians panicked. The fighters turned inward toward the rear of the V. Only The Mayflower asteroid and the moon Caldera continued on at full speed. The fleet had swooped by Nivaar in an elliptical path, using the planet’s gravity to adjust to a rounder orbit. The fleet was on final approach, like planes circling a runway.

  The only surprise in their configuration was that with the subs aboard, Caldera hung back a day’s journey from the others. The Phibs wanted to secure the spacelanes before risking their limited watercraft.

  Kesh broadcast on the enemy radio band to sow confusion. “I am the Kesh of the Yellow Slash, envoy of the Turtle Judge Jeeconus. We have you outnumbered. Surrender now and be spared. Any who persist are decreed nonsentient. You have two minutes.”

  Encrypted radio transmissions blazed through the void. Wake-up orders were issued, but no one fired during the confusion. Echo repositioned the bulkiest torpedoes in a line of sight between Deep 7 and the fighter squadron. Watching the video feed from the bridge, Kesh saw the sky blotted out. The effect was like raining ink on the yellowed canvas of the planet above them. No. Like feeding time in the koi pond. The torpedoes gathered together in frenzied clusters. Scary how fast the Magi improved my programs.

  The ultimatum gave the Union crews enough time to reach their respective vehicles. The High Loan Officer stayed aboard Deep 7, observing the bridge feed and reporting to the planetary defense forces. The current defenders consisted of automated cargo pods, sorter pilots, and a huge particle cannon on the barren moon.

  The Mayflower insertion team sat in a cramped vehicle, not much larger or more elegant than a freight elevator. The cargo bay doors on Deep 7 opened slowly before them.

  Honey piloted the Trojan cargo pod and would take Daisy’s place as a rifle woman.

  They could only tell Roz was the faceless suit in the copilot chair because she wore her green gem as an armband. A voice distorter prevented the Teller from identifying either team member. Roz coordinated the small swarm of nine torpedoes that accompanied their craft.

  Seeing the turncoat Daisy in the seat next to Reuben, Kesh made chicken noises, something that the Bankers listening wouldn’t understand. The two bandoliers of grenades across his chest made clipping the safety belt difficult. He’d opted for a launcher tube to go with them. His arm wasn’t at full strength yet, and he didn’t intend to have any ammo left by the time he reached the enemy cockpit.

  Daisy pointed to one of her grenades and made a crude thrusting gesture. None of which appeared on the body cams or registered with the Teller pilot.

  With his helmet off, Reuben defended his intended to the other men in the cabin. “Her company said no combat. She’s agreed to help us gain entry. She’ll blow the airlock and guard the pod until we return.”

  Claxons sounded as one of the fighters launched missiles at Deep 7.

  Before the pod engines were warmed up, the Magi shuttle had popped out of the hangar like a soap bubble. Nervous, Kesh noted the shuttle’s miniswarm had vanished as well. “They’re homing in on the launcher?”

  Max put a hand to his Magi earpiece. “No. That ship will be harmless until they can reload. We’ve tapped into their comms. The rear two were ordered to stop our ship, and the rest will continue to escort Mayflower. Our shuttle materialized behind a fighter in the middle of a launch sequence.” Light flashed in the distance. “Splash one bogey.”

  First blood.

  Purple beams lanced through the dark sky, leaving trails on Kesh’s retinas. “I’m guessing they just nailed the missiles aimed at us.”

  As the cargo pod dropped from the bay like a newborn whale, one of the shield drones exploded, sending shrapnel their direction. The spun fiber of one wall sprung an air leak. Menelaus was first to respond with a glop grenade, sealing the breach. “Most of them at least.”

  “Nobody’s perfect,” Roz said, reshaping her remotes forward into a protective cone.

  Max brought up a tactical display so they could watch the distraction.

  “Link me into the feed, so I know where to avoid,” the Teller pilot asked.

  Roz obliged, piping it through the crude dashboard.

  Rather than dive straight for another fighter, the Magi shuttle appeared near Caldera’s maneuvering thrusters. Enemy missiles flared toward them. At the last second, the Magi craft shimmered away. The missiles retargeted on Caldera, blowing huge holes in the hollow moon before the Phibs could remotely detonate.

  “Oops,” Max said with a chuckle. “Now the moon can’t slow down enough to enter the atmosphere.”

  “That was from my playbook,” bragged Kesh. “It forces the invaders to switch to short-range beam weapons.”

  “Giving us a prayer of reaching Mayflower,” said the Teller.

  Lighting every engine they had, the cargo pod still wallowed like a hippo. Honey couldn’t evade or change courses, or the invaders would know they weren’t a harmless autopod. The men fastened their helmets and went on suit air in case of sudden rupture.

  Meanwhile, the shuttle entertained them with a ballet of destruction, blinking in and out. At a distance, even Kesh couldn’t tell which celestial bodies were decoys until the beam lanced out.

  The cargo pod passed within range of a huge troop transport, and its belly guns swiveled. A targeting laser swept across the pod’s bow. In seconds, the shuttle appeared and burned through the transport’s flimsy frame down to its reactor. The lights in the enemy turret blinked out.

  “Whoo hoo!” shouted Roz. “Another one for the good guys!”

  “Why the frown?” Menelaus asked Kesh.

  “A thousand of my kin just had their life support shut off. Even if their leaders surrendered, we can’t get them out before they suffocate.”

  “They’ll freeze before that,” the Bat said, trying to sound sympathetic. “Some guys in engineer uniforms just got sucked out. They went torpid immediately from the cold. The sleepers won’t be conscious enough to be afraid.”

  We’ve sent them to hell.

  Max said, “Pass control of our remotes to the shuttle. They’re running low on decoys. Besides, the enemy made us because of our swarm.”

  “I’ll keep one attached to the hull in case we need to call for help later,” Roz replied.

  The cargo pod’s blip made agonizingly slow progress across the screen. Every five minutes, another enemy ship vanished. No one could lay a laser on them.

  The dwindling fleet was now so close to their target that the moon’s defenses picked off the slower, larger enemy ships. They sliced a dreadnought in half before the Phib warriors silenced them by crashing an empty refueler into the installation.

  After the explosion, Max said, “The others have reached a stalemate. The Bankers are helpless now, but the Phibs no longer have anything capable of landing on the ocean world.”

  With only a minute till docking, the stolen Human asteroid ship filled the pod’s front screen.

  Kesh prompted, “Your turn, Goat.”

  “I’m going to spoof the friend-or-foe transponder. They’re using an old code we broke in the war.”

  “Everyone else, make sure your wrist comps have the map. This rock was a 3D maze of passages before the enemy turned it into a weapon.”

  Suddenly, Max was shouting warnings. All the surviving fighters had peeled off, firing missiles at Deep 7.

  Kesh said, “They switched targets to an easier one. Somehow they must have deduced that the shuttle gets fresh fuel and batteries from the base station between volleys.”

  “They can’t have figured that out already,” Max insisted.

  “Unless we have a traitor,” Kesh said.

  Honey’s eyes flashed. “I wouldn’t dare
endanger the life of the High Loan Officer.”

  “Maybe he’s the traitor,” Roz responded. “Would he give up his own life if his gods ordered it?”

  “In a heartbeat, but—”

  The overloaded antimissile turret on Deep 7 flashed like a lightning storm and probes twinkled in rapid succession. The barrage resembled the finale of a fireworks show. Fighters swarmed ever closer.

  With all the strobing lights, Reuben struggled to concentrate on his computer screen. He wore the ridiculous goggles around his neck, outside his helmet.

  “Docking,” said Honey.

  One of the missiles made it through. The detonation deformed the perfect black sphere, annihilating the shuttle bay. More fighters dove for the breach.

  “No!” Honey stopped steering.

  Roz had to take over. Despite her best efforts, the pod grated against the giant rock and left long scratch marks as they slid. She managed to snug them against one of the many cargo docks.

  As the docking clamps thumped, Echo’s form appeared on the comm screen. The sounds of many rivers roared behind her. “Good-bye beloved. Tell our daughter I went ahead to save her. All of you. Love never dies.”

  The roar of resonance rings built to a waterfall.

  Reaching out her hand, Roz shouted, “Don’t!”

  Hundreds of rings blinked out at once, and the great ring of the Magi ship resonated in harmony. It slipped under the skin of reality, shrinking until it vanished. They would have no fuel to return from the deep. All but a few enemies were caught in the implosion radius. Echo had joined her original mates and saved her new ones.

  A universe where everyone gets what they want.

  The shuttle mopped up the big enemy guns before their batteries drained too much to continue. Then, shield rocks began materializing in front of ships, causing fatal collisions. In response, an unarmed Phib ship swerved toward them, plummeting at full burn.

  Max whispered, “They have thirty seconds left. Come on. Dodge!”

  “No fuel,” Kesh noted. He’d been keeping track.

  The brilliant explosion took out all but one Saurian transport and The Mayflower. The last troop ship turned toward the team. Roz pointed, and her last torpedo appeared inside the bridge of the vessel. Unchecked, it would fall into the ammonia sea of the giant planet and be crushed by overpowering gravity.

  Soon after, she collapsed.

  Max rushed to check her suit’s medical readings. “Shock from the loss of a mate. She’s more Magi than I am.” He dialed up a sedative on the suit’s emergency injectors. “Daisy, I’m counting on you to protect her until she snaps out of this.”

  Menelaus focused the team remaining. “Now those bastards have no one to save them from us. Let’s finish this.”

  The little Teller woman grabbed Daisy’s rifle. “Ready.”

  34. Up Close and Personal

  Daisy rushed to plant a shaped charge on a double-wide airlock designed to withstand meteor strikes. “Give me a minute. I can’t use all this, or the explosion will blow our cargo pod off the side. Shrapnel could hole our suits. If I don’t use enough, the door will dent but not open. If it jams, we’ll have to fly to another cargo dock.”

  Kesh added more stress. “Guys, we’ve cut this a little close. According to the orbital plots, this rock is coming up for its final turn in two hours. Once those thrusters fire, I’m not sure we can turn The Mayflower away.”

  “They won’t see us coming?” asked the Teller woman.

  Scoffing, Reuben said, “Please. We have a hundred years of wartime tech on them plus plans from the manufacturer. I own their security systems.”

  Menelaus solved Daisy’s problem by punching the code 9-1-1 into the lock keypad. The light turned green, and the door opened. “Human doors always have safety overrides.” Air rushed out of the cargo pod. Evidently, this section of the asteroid wasn’t pressurized.

  “What if it had been booby-trapped?” asked Daisy over the comms.

  “What’s a booby?” Menelaus grabbed his shock staff from its wall charger. His samurai sword remained sheathed over the oxygen tanks on his back.

  Reuben peeked down the elevator shaft that led into the heart of the rock. “A bird that went extinct because they kept wandering onto land mines. Clear.” He propelled himself thirty meters down the wide shaft. At the small trapdoor, he tossed his media ball through. The camera relayed video of a nonfunctional lift cage. Blaster marks scorched the walls and controls, probably from the ship’s original capture by pirates.

  Nervous, Kesh flicked a glance at the grief-stricken Roz. She appeared to be asleep in a cargo net. He focused his gaze on Daisy’s mirrored visor. “No one can stay neutral this deep in a war zone. Put on your big-girl pants and decide who you’re backing.”

  “Follow me,” Reuben called.

  Daisy stayed with the cargo pod, monitoring the teams and several dials on the wall. “The deeper you get into the asteroid, the higher the radiation counters go. Avoid the main hold.”

  “Roger,” said Reuben. The Teller, Kesh, and Menelaus joined him. “Any power fluctuations?”

  “Negative. Most systems look like they’re still asleep.”

  Max arrived last with the explosive charge and a couple spare air tanks. “The doors have been welded shut. I can’t pry them apart. If people climb back up, I can blast an opening.”

  Eager to use his favorite toy, Reuben pulled out the wall-knife strapped to his hip. “Back up.” He plunged the knife through a gap at the top and engaged the power assist. The blade made the metal glow where he transected welds or braces. Max and Kesh pried the two doors apart with tremendous effort. The doors seemed to be hung up on something until Reuben threw his weight against Kesh’s side. All three fell over as the obstacle gave way. “The Ram powers through.”

  On the other side, a platelike object popped in the air. Menelaus swung his staff like a bat and knocked the disc fifteen meters down the access ring. The mine exploded, harming only the glow strips overhead.

  “That was a trap,” explained Kesh.

  “You set off the seismic sensors,” Daisy warned. “Everyone okay?”

  Holding a hand to his back, Max stood. “Ack. I think I strained something. I’ll pull up the rear.”

  Kesh growled. “We don’t need enemies. We’re so old that the furniture is finishing us off. I’ll help him limp to the finish line. The rest of you, run forward. Secure the airlock before reinforcements arrive.”

  They swarmed through the round tunnel, pushing off against the metal rungs sticking out of the wall. Though meant for Human hands, Reuben and Menelaus went faster with feet. The Teller woman struggled to keep pace.

  Max dragged the spare air tank to the far side of the elevator. “I’ll cover our six.” He planted a grenade on the nozzle, pulled the pin, and leapt. Just like practice, the grenade blew the top off the tank, and the released air caused the foam to expand. The resulting blob blocked corridor access, though not completely. It reminded him of the boulder in holos that rolled through a tomb hallway, crushing thieves. A narrow gap remained at the top, where air hadn’t reached.

  Kesh lobbed another grenade into the gap. The feeble spurt it made in vacuum didn’t expand, but it plugged the hole with glue.

  He put an arm around his friend. “Medusa, are you sure you can do this?”

  “My upper body is fine. It just hurts like blazes to walk.”

  “Do you want to head back to the cargo pod?”

  “Nobody else knows how to work this demolition pack or patch an artery.” Max put an arm around him and gripped tightly. “Go.”

  Lifting both their weight with his powerful hind legs, Kesh bounded toward the enemy. He tried to ignore Max’s grunt of pain every time they landed.

  By the time they reached the others, Reuben had the wiring from the forward-quarters door controls dangling on the floor. Several alligator clips had been attached. “We have control over internal security cameras.”

  Daisy annou
nced, “Control accepted. Overwatch has the eyes.” She toggled through several views. “Crap on a stick. Must be fifty of them. Just waking up.”

  “I expected them to be aft, near the escape craft and engine room,” Kesh murmured.

  “Better shielding and air pressure up front,” Daisy replied. “Aft quarters have been filled with an escape vehicle and more fuel. I see a lot of damage there from the pirate raid but no soldiers. No one is guarding the engineering section.”

  “My fault,” Kesh muttered. “Let me delay the guards. You guys sabotage the fuel feed to the attitude jets. No fuel means no turn.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Menelaus said with a wicked grin.

  Max objected. “I just sealed the route aft.”

  “Not the only one,” Reuben said, hefting his blade. “I can cut through the floor of the elevator, and we can take the tunnels on the next level down.”

  “The radiation,” Max objected.

  The Teller said, “We’re highly resistant.”

  “Our suits have drugs to help us bear these levels for a few hours, right?” Reuben said, more cheerfully than anyone felt.

  “You have to make the transit through the bomb-storage area fast,” Max emphasized, hitting a blue button on this wrist comp. He was sweating from pain.

  “Ouch,” Reuben complained as the IV punctured his forearm.

  The two shortest members of the team departed.

  “Think they’ll be okay?” asked Kesh.

  “Sabotage with no opposition? Reuben was born for this,” Max replied. “As long as we can delay the enemy.”

  “I think you should hang back.”

  “Not a chance. My suit has Saurian rank symbols. The delay may be just the edge you need. Daisy, the instant those two are back aboard the pod, cast off.”