“High oxygen,” said Derrick with a smile. “About point nine standard gravities. Pleasant temperature.”
“So where are the people?” asked Alyssa as the view panned around to the buildings that looked to be in perfect repair. “Move that thing up and let’s get a good overview of the city.”
Derrick nodded and moved the scout up in a quick zoom. The view was down, and the square and the tall buildings shrank as the device moved up into the sky. As the view grew it became more apparent what had happened here. About two kilometers from the square was the beginning of a tens of kilometers wide crater. Buildings along the edge were wrecked but still there. The intactness of the buildings a couple of hundred meters away was attributable to the toughness of ancient materials. Then the view flared with light and the scout robot was gone.
“Another unhealthy place,” said Derrick, shaking his head. “Seems like everything in the Galaxy is intent on knocking down everything else.”
“Looks like it was even more dangerous out there than it is in the home systems,” said Alyssa, nodding her head. “And I’m not sure that any place we go will be any safer.”
“We could just get in Daedelus and make a run for it,” said Derrick, looking toward the hall entrance. “Assuming we could escape the Theocrat sweeps of the station.”
“I don’t believe that wouldn’t be a problem,” said Alyssa, looking over to where Patrick guarded the portal to the Donut. “It would be more of a problem getting off the station and out of the area without being turned into a hulk. And I don’t think Patrick would agree with abandoning his quest for the salvation of his moon.”
“Wouldn’t want to tell him that,” said Derrick, brow furrowing. “Couldn’t you just have your kitty cat knock him out again? Then we could carry him to wherever we need to go.”
“I hate having to keep doing that to him,” said Alyssa, shaking her head. “He’s going to lose all trust in us. The next time he wakes up, he might just consider us his enemies. And I’m sure you don’t want to face him as a foe.”
“Just give him another shot of that thing and he’ll be alright,” said Derrick with a leer, looking at her groin.
Alyssa stared at the man for a moment. She wanted to hit him, but wasn’t sure what that might lead to. Instead, she stared into his eyes. “Don’t you ever say anything like that to me again, do you hear me? What I do with my sex life is my business, and it is not something I use to exert control on people.”
“Just keep telling yourself that,” said Derrick, turning away and walking down to the next open gate.
Bastard, thought Alyssa, looking back over at Patrick holding watch over the other gate. She knew that she had only slept with the man out of loneliness and mutual attraction, not to use sex to gain any kind of advantage over him. Or had she? What she was sure of was that his mastery of the act was a magnitude above hers. If anyone gained from the experience it was her. If anyone got more control of the relationship, it was he.
I don’t have time for this, she thought, moving past Derrick to the next open gate. She could see that the far wall was now the near wall, and there weren’t more than a dozen more gates between her and that surface. And most of them probably weren’t open, if the ones behind her were indicative of the percentage that were working.
Alyssa launched her scout into the gate and looked at her monitor as the signal came back. This looks promising, she thought, as a hallway that looked much like the one she was in came back through the feed. “Daedelus,” she said, watching as the scout moved through the hallway, its camera focused on the double door that stood closed on the other end. “Where is this location?”
“That location is on a civilian transit station near the Galactic core,” said the ship.
Alyssa cursed under her breath, wondering when they would catch some luck on this one. She was down on scouts, only two more left in her bag, so she ordered this one to return while looking up the hall at Derrick. “Don’t waste scouts,” she yelled at the man. “We may need all we can carry if this doesn’t pan out.”
Derrick nodded and went back to work monitoring his screen. Busy, or simply trying to ignore her. It was hard to tell.
“Something is happening here,” yelled Patrick.
Alyssa looked down the hall to see the monk crouching into a fighting position. She flipped her monitor to look at the image of the scout she had left airborne watching the portal. The surface of the wormhole gate was rippling, the sign that something was coming through.
An alien hand holding a pistol led the way. It was also the first thing to feel the bite of Patrick’s sword, which swished through the wrist of the creature in a shower of sparks. Hand and pistol hit the floor and the rest of the robot followed through in an off balanced stance, its remaining hand clutching for an unseen foe. Patrick’s sword sliced through its neck and he planted a side kick in its chest, sending the headless body back through the wormhole.
Alyssa sent her scout through the gate she was standing in front of. There was nothing else she could do but try and find a way out of here before the hall was flooded with robots. “You stay here,” she said the Shadow, glancing down at the agitated cat that looked ready to spring away and run down to support the Monk. Something the cat was totally unsuited to, its claws ineffective against non-organics.
She glanced down to see another robot coming through the gate, and Patrick taking that one out as well. A third robot followed and he dispatched it. Patrick backed up, some kind of combat sense must have told him it was the right move. As soon as he took the third step a flurry of projectiles came through the gate, to ricochet away on his shield.
Alyssa looked through her scout and saw that it was probing yet another hallway. This one again looked like the one they were in, but it was uninhabited. “Daedelus,” she yelled. “Where is this location?”
“This is the gate hallway on the opposite side of this station,” said the ship.
“We got it,” she yelled, looking down to see Patrick running toward her and Derrick.
Something exploded twenty meters behind him to send the Monk flying through the air. He landed on his shoulder in a roll and was back on his feet in an instant, sword and shield still gripped tightly. “They’re coming through,” he yelled as he went into a full sprint.
Two robots appeared through the wormhole and moved away, making room for another pair, then another. Two of the robots aimed and fired up the hall, and Patrick turned in mid stride to bring the shield into the line of fire. Two more of the robots looked up the hall toward the entrance, then went into crouches and fired toward the doorway. Projectiles and particle beam weapons returned the fire, and Alyssa swore under her breath as she saw the Theocrat soldiers entering the fray.
Derrick started firing at the robots, and through them, at the Theocrat troops. More robots came through, and divided their fire between the groups. A couple of planters shattered under the impact of rounds, and Patrick crouched low behind his shield and backed toward them.
“What do we do now?” asked the Monk over his shoulder, while Alyssa hunkered down and kept Shadow near her.
That’s a good goddamn question, she thought, as the two sides, who both seemed hostile to their team, kept adding to their numbers.
* * *
Chung had always marveled at the construction of the Maurids, and wondered why the Creator God had made them so much more capable in so many ways than humans. Faster, much more agile, stronger per body weight, their hands were a marvel of construction. They were walking pads most of the time, on all four limbs. The pads unfolded into five digit hands, dexterous and with lethal claws, giving them four sets on manipulators that also allowed them to climb like monkeys. Intellectually, they were not quite as intelligent as humans, but also not far off from the human norm. Their main weakness was a lack of genius along their intellectual bell curve.
Of course, some unbelievers said the Maurids and the Husteads were not created, but evolved naturally on other wor
lds. In the Theocracy, those who said such were soon taught the error of their heretical ways. The lucky ones were tortured to death or kill in an otherwise horrific way. The unlucky ones were turned into puppets that were trained to do the dangerous and demeaning work of the society.
Chung had read some of those heretical tracts himself, his right as one of the religious elite. He was not sure what he thought of them, though they seemed to make more sense than the religious works he had read. Much of what the religion claimed did not seem to bear up over the evidence of science. Of course, he had enough common sense to not voice that opinion. Even his father’s power would not be enough to prevent horrible consequences in that event.
“The way ahead is clear, my Lord,” came the sibilant voice of the lead squad NCO over the com. The officer, a human, since aliens were not allowed to have their own kind in that position over them, chimed in his acknowledgement.
If I had my way, the Maurids would have their own officers, thought Chung. But the hierarchy had determined that aliens were inferior, and so could not hold those positions.
“Were there any obstacles?” he asked the NCO while looking at his helmet heads up display, noting how the squads had fanned out to cover all approaches, in the typical efficiency of the aliens.
“A few, my Lord,” answered the NCO. “We destroyed a few robots that were obviously not first line combat models. They were more in the line with cleaning and maintenance robots that had been jury rigged for battle.”
“Any casualties?”
“No, my Lord,” came back the reply after a short rasp that indicated the creature was laughing. “Not anything we had to worry about.”
“Move forward,” said Chung, waving his own adjutant and security team over. “Keep me apprised of any changes.” He looked at his team and gestured them down the hall, then started off, the security detail of humans falling in around him.
“We have a fire fight going on at the mid-center level,” said the voice of the officer at the flagship marine control center. “It looks like some kind of wormhole gate room, according to the lieutenant in charge.”
“What is he fighting?” asked Chung, feeling exasperation that the information was not in the initial comment.
“They look to be Hustedean construct robots,” said the officer.
A vid popped up on the HUD, showing a long hall with a number of almost rectangular arches along each side. The Hustedean constructs were about six hundred meters from the entrance according to the figures that flashed beneath them, while the Theocracy troops were taking cover and returning fire near the hall egress point. As he watched one of the robots, and it was obvious from the metal parts that were revealed, was hit by over a dozen high velocity rounds that tore through its skin. The robot continued firing with no notice of the hits, until a launched grenade hit it in the head and blasted that member off.
“They look to be some kind of specific combat model,” said Chung, watching as more robots came out of the wormhole. Then something caught his attention beyond the robots. Figures in skin suits, carrying weapons? “Zoom in on those figures beyond the robots,” he ordered, then swore under his breath as they came into focus. The ones he sought, at the far end of the hall.
“What do we have in that hall?” he asked the controller, and the schematic of the station with symbols for his assets appeared on the HUD.
“We have a platoon at the hall,” said the controller. “Another platoon is less than five minutes away.”
“Order every asset that can be spared to that location,” said Chung, making up his mind in an instant. “I’m heading there with my men. And order the reaction company to deploy to the station. I might need some armed spacemen as well. Chung out.” The controller had been about to say something, probably a protest to the orders. Chung was not interested in listening to the man. He had other things on his mind.
“Prepare your troops for battle,” he ordered the human officer of the Maurid platoon. “We will move with all speed to this location on the station.”
“Yes sir,” said the officer, who then switched over to his internal platoon circuit.
We have them, thought Chung with a smile as he started to jog behind the platoon with his own detail. And all that was stopping them was an unknown number of battle robots.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Derrick,” yelled Alyssa, squatting down behind one of the planters. “Cease fire. You’re just drawing their fire to us.”
Derrick looked back at her and blinked in confusion. Rounds splattered off the walls, floor and planters, and even the beam weapons were well off the mark. And all the shots that were heading Patrick’s way were hitting square on the central portion of the shield.
“They’re not trying to hit us, you idiot,” she yelled at Derrick, standing up and cringing just a little at the incoming fire, none of which came near her. “They’re only shooting at us to keep us from firing accurately at them.”
“What about the Theocrats?” yelled Derrick. “They seem to be hitting them alright.”
Patrick stood up from his crouch and lowered his shield, and nothing more came his way.
Alyssa zoomed in on the end of the hall through an opening in the robots. Sure enough, there were bodies of Theocrat marines lying on the floor at the other end of the hall, blood pooling around the bodies. Another one fell as she watched with blood exploding from his head.
“It would seem that whoever is controlling those robots see us as less of a threat than our enemies,” said Alyssa, looking back at Derrick.
“Or maybe even as friends,” said Patrick. “Because I don’t see that they couldn’t have killed the two of you in a moment if they wanted to.”
“And what about you?” asked Derrick with a glare.
“My shield seems to be proof against anything they have,” answered the monk with a smile. “So far at least.”
“And remember that,” said Alyssa walking toward the portal she had scoped out. “This is ancient tech we’re facing. And I’m sure they have something that the artifact you’re carrying can’t stop. There is no such thing as an impenetrable shield, or an ultimate weapon.”
She stopped in front of the portal and looked at her monitor one more time, making sure the hall at the other end was clear. She picked up Shadow and looked back at the other two. “See you at the other end of the rabbit hole.” And with that she stepped through.
* * *
The being at the other end of the robots’ control link smiled as he watched the woman walk through the wormhole gate with the black cat in her arms. She is so like someone else I know. And adore, he thought, the image of the woman in his mind as his long fingers stroked the coat of an orange tabby cat. The coloring was different, with her dark hair and eyes, but the spirit shone through in the movements and posture, and that was the same.
And then she was gone through the wormhole on her quest, her companions, including the magnificent fighter who was trying to orient himself in a new world, followed her. And he turned his attention back to the other ones, who also reminded him of a group he had dealt with recently in his own space. Religious fanatics out to make everyone else like themselves. And if they succeeded in their space, he would have to step in and smash them back.
* * *
“What’s the situation?” yelled Chung as he came up to the entrance of the hall. The Maurid and human troops, three full platoons of over a hundred and twenty fighters, were arrayed outside the hall, hidden and out of the line of fire.
“We have two platoons in there,” said the Captain after snapping off a quick salute to his superior. “Both are at half strength. Those robots are murderous, there are a lot of them, and they keep sending reinforcements through the wormhole. One of my lieutenants believes these were what destroyed the ancient civilization.”
Chung felt a shiver of fear at that. The Church taught that the Evil One had overwhelmed the goodly civilization of the ancients. But from what he had read outside of chu
rch cannon something else had happened. Something inexplicable, like the machines revolting against their masters, which was supposed to be impossible.
“What about the Republic agents?” he asked. “Did the robots take them out?”
“The robots fired at the Republicans, but did not hit them, according to our sightings,” said the captain. “And now they have disappeared completely.”
Through another wormhole, thought the Colonel, frustrated at missing them again. Then he thought about where they were, where they might have gone. So much power, he thought. We couldn’t generate enough energy to open one wormhole with our entire civilization in a year’s time. At least according to those who say they know. And these people seemed to generate them in the thousands, the tens of thousands, maybe even the millions if the legends are to be believed. Then what the Captain had said hit him.
“You said the robots fired at the Republicans, but didn’t hit them?” he said to the captain. “Just how accurate has been their fire at your people?”
“Accurate in the extreme,” said the captain. “They hit what they aim for.”
“And they didn’t hit the Republicans,” said Chung, rubbing his chin and thinking. “Which means they didn’t want to hit them. So, are these machines in collusion with the Republicans, or are they only against us?”
Chung thought for a moment and came up with the same answer no matter which case was true. “Prepare the assault, Captain. According to the plan you worked out. And execute it immediately.”
The Captain threw a hasty salute and turned to rally his troops. Chung checked his weapon and made ready to follow after a nod to his security detail. He wasn’t about to miss this show, no matter the risk.
* * *
The first platoon came through the double doors en mass and fanned out, then hit the prone position. They took some casualties, about a dozen hit, most killed. As soon as they took their positions they opened fire with everything they had. Second platoon came in right on their tails and went into a kneeling position. They also took casualties, though not as many. They added their fire to that of the first platoon. Then the original troops and more new arrivals lined up in standing positions behind the other two lines and added their fire to the mix.
Theocracy: Book 1. Page 26