by E. R. Torre
A wave of metal beings roared over and past the building. They had rusty, bulky bodies and didn’t appear aerodynamic enough for flight, much less the speeds attained. Strange contraptions at their base swiveled and focused on the desert truck and its two guardians.
“Scouts,” Becky Waters said. “They’re hesitating. Seeing if we’re hiding any surprises.”
“Hate to disappoint them,” Inquisitor Cer said.
Both were huddled behind their vehicle, weapons in hand.
The cloudy tide of moving metal continued its approach while the winds behind them howled. It was as if an entire city and mother nature herself were coming after them.
Despite everything, Cer and Becky worried about their companions, both of whom they had yet to hear from…
General Spradlin looked Nox over.
“You haven’t changed much,” he said.
“I got plenty of rest,” Nox said. “Is this all happening in my mind or am I out there in the real world talking to myself?”
“If you were?”
“I wouldn’t want my companion to think I’m crazy. Well, crazier.”
“The Independent?”
“His name is B’taav. But you knew that already.”
“He’s a handsome fellow. Your type?”
“Independents aren’t my type.”
General Spradlin chuckled.
“Don’t worry. Our conversation is within the confines of your mind. When we’re done, only moments will have passed in the outside world.”
“Long enough to look like I spaced out.”
“Did you bring it?”
Nox stiffened. She reached into her shirt collar and grabbed a string necklace. She snapped it off her neck and pulled it out. Tied to the now broken string was a black, rectangular object. It was an ancient microchip.
“Lemner’s passkey,” Spradlin said.
“What’s left of it,” Nox said.
“Is the microchip…?”
“It’s fine. I took care of it.”
“Good. We’ll need it.”
“For the nano-probes?”
“Of course,” Spradlin said.
“You suspected the aliens were dead, didn’t you? You figured we’d be fighting their nano-probes.”
“An educated guess,” Spradlin said. He shook his head. “Too bad.”
“The aliens that were hell bent on wiping Earth out are dead and all you have to say is that it’s ‘too bad’?”
“Not all of them were out to destroy us. There was one small group that actually helped. They provided us with Intel and, at one time, even gave us one of their most sophisticated chameleon machines.”
“Why would they do that?”
“They retained a sliver of the race they used to be,” General Spradlin said. “Many eons ago, the Locust Plague were not unlike us. Curious, intelligent, outgoing. One day, they took their first steps into space. Soon they left their nest and traveled from solar system to solar system, expanding their knowledge and gaining a remarkable understanding of the Universe. By the time Earth cooled enough to allow the first microbes on her to flourish, the Locust Plague was an ancient race. But what started well was corrupted.”
The surrounding village dissolved. Around them were images of astronauts, planets, and starships.
“Pushing into the unknown meant taking risks. During one of their trips and while their fleet was between solar systems, their food stock and nutrients were spoiled. Ironically enough, an alien parasite was to blame. The Locust Plague barely made it to their destination and when they did, they were quite literally starving. The system they arrived at had one habitable planet populated with a race of primitive humanoid creatures on the verge of entering an industrial age. The Locust Plague contacted them. The planet’s politicians were overwhelmed to discover there was life outside their world and only too eager to help. They offered what they could, but the quantities were inadequate. The Locust Plague needed everything the planet had to survive and make it to their next destination. They thanked the planet’s leaders for their help and withdrew their diplomats and cargo ships. Safely in their mother ship, they made a decision that would change them forever: They would take what they needed, the humanoid race be damned.”
The image changed. An alien world surrounded by Locust Plague fighter craft was displayed. The fighter craft raced into the planet’s atmosphere. Fearsome weapons ignited and destroyed primitive cities. Masses of city dwellers ran along the streets while the Locust Plague machines swooped down on them. Some of the city dwellers fought back. Their weapons were pathetically ineffective.
“The Locust Plague decimated the planet and took what they needed. In the process, every living thing on it was killed and converted to food stock. Afterwards, the Locust Plague’s elders swore that if they were ever in a similar situation they would do all they could to seek nutrients from systems that held no intelligent species. It was a noble promise but they had already taken their first step. When similar situations arose as they inevitably did over the centuries, it proved easier and easier for them to take what they needed. It wasn’t long before they fed off whatever lay in their path. The Locust Plague no longer created. They no longer explored. They no longer advanced. They conquered. They stole. They fed. All civilizations were their enemies. Evolution, adaptation, and the passage of time turned them into parasites.”
The alien planet disappeared, replaced with an image from within the Locust Plague mother ship. A group of aliens converged.
“At least most of them. There existed one small group within the larger whole who suspected their actions were wrong. They could not put their feelings into words and spent years searching their data banks to learn what they could about their forgotten past. In an ancient section of their ship they found answers. Texts, many written on brittle paper, told of their race’s evolution. These few members of the Locust Plague now understood why they were filled with such a strange loathing when attacking other planets. Their hands, just as their brother’s, were far from clean yet the knowledge of what they once were gave them hope. Their race changed over the millennia. Could they not change back? But they were cautious. These rebels quietly sowed the seeds of their knowledge and gained followers. Unfortunately, they were discovered. In one bloody week, their ranks were decimated.”
The meeting dissolved and the scene switched to a dark corridor filled with alien machinery. Hidden in the shadows was a single alien figure. It looked over information on a monitor.
“The purge was so brutal and so …absolute… that the few rebels left realized the old ways were truly gone. Fortunately for us, some were still alive when the Locust Plague made their journey to Earth. They offered us help in the form of snippets of lost technologies. They implored us to prepare for the coming onslaught, though they didn’t think we had much of a chance. You know the rest. Now, all that’s left for us to do is stop the Locust Plague machines.”
Nox held the microchip firmly.
“With this? You think your solar system killer isn’t enough to take those machines out?”
“It probably is,” Spradlin said. “But in war, you make sure your enemy isn’t just defeated, but completely, mercilessly, obliterated. Otherwise, they might just come back.”
“What exactly will the program do?”
“It’ll enter the nano-probes’ logic web and compromise their functioning, at least for a while. Infected nano-probes will no longer be able to latch onto you, your companions, or your ship. The Thanatos will do the rest.”
Nox eyed the memory chip.
“Back before the Exodus, when I was staring at your corpse, I felt the need to take this with me. Was that your doing?”
Spradlin nodded.
“I planted that need as surely as my agents planted the need for B’taav to come up here with you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Xendos is a Phaecian ship and Inquisitor Cer’s more familiar with it than—”
<
br /> “What about B’taav?”
“He will take this chip and enter the room on the roof of this building and at the base of the wires. He will insert it into a computer there and the computer will load Lemner’s passkey into a massive amount of Locust Plague nano-probes trapped inside that room. The infected nano-probes will be released through those wires and link up to their brothers from here to the Locust Plague mother ship. In a matter of minutes, all of them will be infected.”
“The room is filled with nano-probes?”
“Several trillion of them.”
“They’ll attack his organs. They’ll cut his veins. They’ll—”
“His body was built to fight them,” General Spradlin said. “He will resist the nano-probes long enough to upload the virus and in so doing, he will ensure humanity’s survival.”
“How does he get out of there?” Nox asked.
“He doesn’t.”
60
Nox was silent. She was silent for far too long.
At first, B’taav thought she was in deep thought. Then he was concerned.
“Nox?” B’taav said.
He tapped her shoulder. She didn’t react.
“What is it?”
Still nothing. B’taav grabbed the Mechanic and, gently at first, shook her. Her eyes, hidden behind her dark sunglasses, were barely visible. B’taav removed the glasses. The Mechanic stared forward, her eyes glazed.
“Nox?” he repeated, louder.
His grip on her shoulders tightened. He shook her harder.
Nox blinked and let out a moan.
“What happened?” B’taav asked.
Nox rubbed her head.
“Sorry…I was…”
She stopped talking and stared deep into B’taav’s black eyes.
“Hello B’taav,” she said. Her voice was deep, masculine. “There is a room upstairs filled with Locust Plague nano-probes. There is a large computer on the right side of the room. On that computer is an eye level slot.”
Nox reached up and snapped a string from around her neck. She pulled it out and, at its end, was an old memory chip. She offered the chip to B’taav.
“Insert this memory chip into that slot. The computer will do the rest.”
B’taav took the memory chip.
“Am I talking to you, Spradlin?” B’taav asked.
“You are.”
“That room… I knew it was there. I knew I had to go to it. Cer called this a premonition.” B’taav paused. He drew a deep breath. “I had another… another premonition. I won’t be leaving that room, will I?”
Nox said nothing.
“Of course,” B’taav continued. “There’s no such thing as premonitions. Whoever put those instructions into my head, was kind enough to tell me this was a one way trip. Tell me Spradlin, why am I the only one that can do this?”
“For five thousand years my machines have trapped Locust Plague nano-probes there. When you enter, they will attack. Your body will fight them, but only long enough for you to do your job.”
“One life to save billions,” B’taav muttered. “Quite the bargain.”
Nox put her sunglasses back on.
“It was a pleasure knowing you, Independent.”
“Please tell… please tell Inquisitor Cer I’m sorry I couldn’t take the ride back.”
“I will,” Spradlin said through Nox. “Go. There isn’t much time.”
In her dream world, Nox continued her conversation with General Spradlin.
“You created generations of people increasingly resistant to the Locust Plague nano-probes with the sole purpose of having them here just for this day?” Nox asked.
“Yes.”
“You knew the one who entered that room would die?”
“Sacrifices must be made.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Nox snarled. “I won’t let you do it.”
The memory chip in Nox’s hand vanished.
“You’re too late to stop it,” Spradlin said. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. But it is for the best.”
The image of General Spradlin disappeared.
B’taav climbed the stairs leading to the roof of the building. A gale-like wind slammed him and dust filled the stairwell.
He gazed ahead, at an open air parking garage. Lightning flashed and thunder roared. What B’taav saw beyond the roof was a vision from a nightmare. Surrounding the building was a huge black dust cloud. Just before it was an army of metallic giants moving ever closer.
At the other end of the garage was a glass encased room. It glowed an eerie white. From it rose the thin metal wires that disappeared into the sky.
B’taav drew a sharp breath.
Move.
The Independent ran past a line of rotted vehicles and reached the glass room. Beside the entry door was a hand print scanner. He pressed it. A door to a small cubicle in front of the nano-probe filled room slid open. It was large enough to fit only one person.
In his mind, B’taav pictured Inquisitor Cer. Her touch. Her smile. He held on to those thoughts.
“You’re so beautiful.”
B’taav stepped into the cubicle and the door closed behind him. Once the small room was pressure sealed, the cubicle’s inner door slid open.
B’taav was immediately exposed to what lay inside the large glass room. The heavy concentration of Locust Plague nano-probes swarmed his body. He immediately itched and found it increasingly hard to breathe. He could feel the microscopic creatures in his nose and ears and on his eyes like sandy grit. In seconds they were inside him, attacking his lungs, his stomach…
B’taav hurried into the room.
Though his body’s immune system fought off the invaders, their mass quickly overwhelmed him. He could barely see. He could no longer breathe.
B’taav reached the right side of the room and the computer. He looked up. The outside wires came down into this machine. B’taav rubbed his eyes. Blood dripped from his nose and ears. He retched but nothing came out. He was in agony.
B’taav desperately felt along the computer’s panels. Each passing second brought a fresh wave of nausea and pain.
His body was shutting down. He only had seconds…
He found the slot.
B’taav slumped against the computer. His legs were useless.
He let out a moan and, with the last of his strength, pulled his hand up. He could barely hold the microchip. He pushed it against the computer, hoping it would enter the slot.
It didn’t.
B’taav fell to knees and let out another moan.
Blood flowed from his mouth.
B’taav knew this would be his last attempt.
He thought about Inquisitor Cer. He pushed hard…
The world around her abruptly changed.
Nox was no longer in the desert village nor on the ninth floor of the Oscuro building.
Instead, she was standing in its lobby, facing the door leading out.
Inquisitor Cer and Becky Waters were outside and next to the desert truck, weapons in hand. Inquisitor Cer’s attention was on the remote control panel on her arm. Heavy dust swirled around them and an army of metallic beings were only feet away. Beyond them and in the distance, the edges of the mighty black storm was just arriving.
Nox ran out of the building and approached the two women. Despite the madness around them, Inquisitor Cer said:
“Where’s B’taav?”
“He’s inside,” Nox replied. Her voice fluctuated, growing deeper and deeper. “Our time is up. We need to leave. Now.”
“What about B’taav?” Inquisitor Cer insisted.
“He’s gone.”
“Spradlin?” Becky Waters said. “What did you do?”
“We must leave.”
“We can’t. The ship isn’t here yet,” Becky Waters said.
Nox looked at the machines surrounding them.
“You must get out of here. We only have… only have seconds—”
Nox
let out a roar. She slumped to the ground and slammed her fists into the dirt.
“Son of a bitch,” she yelled.
Inquisitor Cer checked the readout on her remote computer panel.
“We’ve got three minutes before the Xendos arrives,” she said.
“Such a short amount of time to wait,” Becky said. “Yet too much.”
The robot army would overrun them in a matter of seconds. The storm would follow shortly afterwards.
“What happened to B’taav?” Becky asked.
“He’s infecting the Locust Plague nano-probes with Lemner’s passkey,” Nox said. “To do so, he had to enter a chamber filled with them. Spradlin said he would resist them longer than we could, but that there was no way he would survive.”
Above them, the sky lit up. The Locus Plague tentacles were spinning faster. They countered the rotation of the planet and, with enough speed, would rip what was left of her atmosphere apart.
The giant robot army was almost on top of them. The largest of these creatures reached forward, its rusty metal arm the size of a high rise.
Inquisitor Cer turned away. She looked up, at the roof of the Oscuro building.
“B’taav,” she whispered.
The creatures’ footsteps shook the ground. The roar of the storm was deafening. The tentacles surrounding the Earth moved faster and faster.
Over all this, Inquisitor Cer heard a beep. She looked down at the remote control computer panel on her arm. A timer read zero. They were past the point when they needed to begin their journey back to the Thanatos.
“Time’s up,” she whispered.
All hope was gone.
61
Inquisitor Cer’s head came down.
Nox looked past the desert truck and to the advancing army of machines. She raised her gun.
“Fuck if I’m going down without a fight,” she muttered.
Something far above caught Becky Waters’ attention. She stared up at the Locust Plague’s tentacles. Past them.
She frowned.
Her silver eyes shined in the darkness. The frown grew, then disappeared.
“Cer, Nox!” she said.
“What?”