by Isaac Hooke
He scanned the mountains on either side, and was surprised to see a private tap in request from Cynthia.
He accepted. “Cynthia. What’s on your mind.”
“I wanted you to know, I appreciate your help in this,” Cynthia said. “You could have left us, abandoned us to our fate. But instead you chose to join us, and fight for us. You helped save the Anarchist’s life… my life… back there. I appreciate that.”
“Do you?” he asked. “Except we’ve already admitted we have no choice. Following you and the Anarchist is the only hope in hell we have of getting off this colony before we exhaust our oxygen.”
“I considered that,” she said. “But you could have still left us and struck out on your own, if you wanted to. You didn’t have to stay and fight, not when it became clear the Draactals were going to overwhelm us. I admit, I’m still a bit worried you’re going to try something once we actually reach the Nemesis base.”
“You’re worried about me trying something?” he said. “I’m the one who’s worried about you trying something. You or your master. This isn’t some psychological game you’re playing, an attempt to disarm me and make me think you’re harmless, is it?”
“The Anarchist isn’t my master,” she said. “He’s my friend. There’s a difference. And I am harmless. The Anarchist, not so much. He can be a dangerous enemy, if you cross him.”
“Well I’m glad to hear you admit that,” he said.
“Yes, but consider it a warning,” she said. “If you try to betray him, or attempt something nefarious like hacking into the AI core I installed his consciousness into, he won’t forgive it. You’ll make an enemy for life. Trust me on this. I’m not sure I’ll be able to talk him down if you do something to piss him off, especially not now, considering he’s severed from his interstellar nodes. Plus, you rushed me into installing his mind. He’s not the same. He definitely seems quicker to anger.”
“So, you’re seeing personality changes already?” Rade said.
“Yes, and it’s your fault,” Cynthia said. “You should have given me the ten minutes I asked for. You could have held the Draactals at bay for that long. I saw you and your team at work back there, along with the Hoplites and Titans. We didn’t have to rush.”
“First you thank me, then you scold me,” Rade said. “And for your information, yes, it’s possible we could have held them at bay. But know that every minute we delayed, was another minute one of my men could have died. And I was not about to risk any of their deaths, not if I could help it. I made the right choice. As did you. Your Anarchist has changed. You’ll just have to live with it. I’m sure once you hook him up to the rest of his nodes, he’ll return to his usual self.”
“That will be years,” Cynthia said. “I’ll have to plant the spores, harvest them, on whatever new planet we claim for the Anarchist.”
“Yeah, about that,” Rade said. “This planet is going to have to be well away from human space.”
“I agree,” Cynthia said.
“Good,” Rade said. “By the way, how does that work? These spores will just grow, and then eventually connect up with the other nodes, as you call them?”
“That’s right,” Cynthia said. “The spores will eventually develop a rudimentary consciousness, a blank slate, much like a newborn child. It will learn, and acquire memories as it grows, until eventually it links with its brethren through the higher dimensions. And that point, its memories and sense of self will become shared, and the individual will no longer exist.”
“So, you plan to install the Anarchist’s consciousness back inside this new entity at some point?” Rade said.
“If he survives this journey, yes,” she said. “I will transfer his consciousness back when the spores reach the appropriate age, a few years before joining with the other nodes. Otherwise, any memories or skills he acquires during this mission will be lost.”
“You don’t sound all that concerned, about the latter,” he said.
Her avatar shrugged. “His memory of me already exists in the other nodes. And nurturing him from birth will only strengthen our friendship. So yes, in truth, it doesn’t really matter to me if the AI core survives. The spores are all that really count.”
“It sounds like you’re really enamored with the whole concept of this alien,” Rade said.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Cynthia said. “No one else has ever discovered a creature like this. I’m a botanist. I’m studying him. This is the greatest discovery of my lifetime. You should be proud. You’re participating in history. Generations from now, people will look back on this mission and say: ‘This is where it all began. Right here, on this pass between mountains, these two people forged an alliance with a race of inter-dimensional beings who would become humankind’s greatest ally.’”
“Well, you have grand ambitions, and a healthy sense of self-worth, if nothing else,” he commented drily.
“You’ll understand, one day,” she said. “The Anarchist has promised to share the technology of the Nemesis with humanity. That, and many more technologies it has assimilated from various non-space faring races.”
“I’m not sure how valuable the latter tech will be,” he said.
“You might be surprised at the ingenuity of Tech Class II races,” she told him. “Some Tech Class II inventions can outstrip their Tech Level III and IV counterparts, at least in terms of energy efficiency and usability.”
“Is that you talking?” Rade said. “Or are you acting as the Anarchist’s mouthpiece again? Because I doubt you’ve had firsthand experience of this.”
“I haven’t,” she admitted. “And yes, I’m quoting the Anarchist.”
Rade finished his latest survey of the mountainsides, and the air above. Still clear. “You grew up here, on this colony?” he asked on a whim before she could disconnect.
“I did,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life. Through both Alien Wars.”
“Must be nice,” he said. “Those wars didn’t even come close to this system.”
“No,” she said. “Before the Draactals came, we didn’t even know what war was. The Alien Wars were something we watched streamed on the InterGalNet. Sometimes, friends of ours left to fight in these wars, and when they returned, they had stories to share, let me tell you.”
“What kind of stories?” he asked.
“Of worms big enough to crush stadiums,” she said. “And crabs the size of houses. And ghostly beings that could possess our technology. Let’s just say, I’m glad war never interested me. Killing was never one of my fortes. I’m all about preserving life. The opposite of you.”
“Well, that’s judging me a little prematurely, isn’t it?” he said.
“Why?” she said. “I saw how easily you killed those Draactals back there. Without a care in the world. I could never do that. Take life so callously. I’m a vegetarian, by the way. The meal replacement I have in my environmental suit is a mix of spinach, wheat grass, and spirulina.”
“Well, good for you,” Rade said. “You kill plants, instead of animals. How do you know those plants aren’t sentient, or otherwise have some form of consciousness, like your Anarchist? Plus, there’s the impact to the environment that growing all those plants has. It’s not for no reason hydroponic domes are kept to a minimum during terraforming operations…”
“I doubt you know much about it, grunt that you are,” Cynthia said with a sniff.
“I have an embedded ID,” Rade said. “Filled with an entire world of knowledge. So, I know enough.”
“Well, I don’t,” she said. “We Newridium denizens believe in natural living. Or at least we did.”
That would explain why he couldn’t read her chip…
“I—” Her voice seemed to catch over the comm, and she said nothing more.
“It can’t be easy, losing all your friends, you family,” Rade told her.
“My family got out,” Cynthia said. “During the evac. But you’re right. I lost a lot of good friends, the u
pper members of society, whose jobs required them to stay behind. Their deaths still haven’t really hit me. I keep thinking about how I’m going to go back and see them all again. And yet, this after I’ve seen their dead bodies with my own eyes.”
“You were in the city when the attack came?” he asked incredulously. “How did you survive?”
“No, I was out here,” she said. “But I was communicating with my colleagues when the attack came. I saw everything. I took down my communications equipment after what happened, and moved everything into my little section of the cave. I didn’t want to give away my position, and bring the aliens down on the Anarchist. He sent Eayan out to scout, and she discovered you. And well, here we are.”
“Here we are,” Rade agreed. “If it’s any consolation, we’ve partially paid back the aliens for what they did to your friends. And we’re not done paying them back yet.”
“Again, that’s the difference between you and I,” Cynthia said. “Because you see, I don’t want vengeance. More killing doesn’t console me in any way. It won’t bring them back. All I want to do is get off this planet.”
“You and me both,” Rade said.
11
The mountain pass began to descend so that soon the two platoons found themselves standing before another ledge overlooking the far side of the mountain. The plains spread out to the west, covered in rock, looking little different from the terrain Rade and his companions had left behind. He scanned the area from left to right, but spotted no signs of any habitation, let alone life of any kind. The sky overhead was also clear.
“This rocky landscape was once covered in life,” the Anarchist said. “The plants that I was.”
“That’s great,” Bender said. “Really great. But uh, where is this Nemesis base you promised us?”
“I have yet to receive a signal,” the Anarchist said.
“These Nemesis have shuttles, and other aircraft, right?” Fret said. “So why aren’t they sending any of them after us? Why only the Draactals?”
“The Nemesis are afraid of me,” the Anarchist said. “They would not enter the cave, not with their technology. This is why they sent the Draactals, whom I cannot touch. They’ve seen what I can do on other worlds, when I get my hands on their tech. Unless they changed the designs of their hunter killer scouts, it’s entirely likely that I would be able to seize control of them.”
“Yeah, but you’re assuming they haven’t patched whatever back doors you’re using,” TJ said. “Or found a way to ignore your signal. Just like we ignored your hacking signal.”
“I never tried to hack you,” the Anarchist said.
“Oh yes you did,” TJ said. “We have evidence.”
“I was merely transmitting a probing signal, I had no intention of taking over your AI cores,” the Anarchist said.
“If you say so, Bro,” Bender commented. “But trust me when I tell you, we know what you were up to. Oh, we know. And we’ll be watching you.”
Rade let that sink in for a moment, before he asked the Anarchist: “Can you still hack Nemesis tech in your current form?”
“With the communications technology built into this mech, and the Nemesis additions Cynthia added, yes,” the Anarchist replied.
“Good,” Rade said. He gazed over the ledge, and followed the steep cliff with his eyes to the land far below.
“Well, it looks like we’ll have to be doing some climbing again,” Lui said.
“Screw that.” Bender stepped toward the ledge.
“Bender—” Rade began, but before he could finish, Bender leaped.
A moment before impact he fired his thrusters, and then hit the ground. A cloud of dust expanded outward from the impact site.
Rade glanced at the status indicator for Bender’s mech on his HUD. All systems still green. The only damage he had was from the nicks and scratches he’d received during the fight against the Draactals.
“Brigands are rated to withstand a whole lot more stress than this,” Bender said. “We can land these babies after atmospheric entry, after all!”
Rade glanced at Snakeoil’s mech. “Is it safe to bring the other mechs down in a similar manner?”
“It is,” Snakeoil said. “Our Brigands easily have the necessary structural integrity to survive a fall from this height, if we land on our feet. Especially if we release a burst of counter thrust before impact.”
“Confirm for me that the Hoplites and Titans accompanying our platoon can similarly withstand the fall,” Rade said.
A moment later, Snakeoil said: “They can. Though for the Titans, they’ll come close to structural failure. I’d recommend at least one jumpjet burst before touching down, along with deployment of the air brakes and aerospike thrusters.”
“Did you hear that, Titans?” Rade asked.
“My team heard,” the Anarchist said.
“What about Cynthia?” Rade said.
“She’d be better off in the cockpit of her mech,” Snakeoil said. “But she should otherwise experience only minor jarring. The shock absorbing modules in her environmental suit will take the brunt of the impact.”
“All right, good,” Rade said. He was about to give the order for Alpha platoon to jump, but then changed his mind. What if the Anarchist decided not to jump? Then he and his team would have to waste precious jumpjet fuel climbing back up.
He glanced at the Anarchist. “You first.”
The Anarchist must have sent orders to the Titans and Hoplites, because they leaped off the edge almost at the same time.
“Cynthia, how was the jump?” he transmitted when the group had landed.
“The jump was fine,” she replied. “The landing, not so much. I think I chipped a tooth.”
“Aw, poor baby,” Bender said. “Break a nail, too?”
“Bender…” Rade said warningly.
“Sorry, Chief,” Bender said. “My apologies, Cynthia.”
“Not accepted,” Cynthia replied.
Rade expected some nasty retort from the drone operator, but the man surprisingly remained quiet.
Rade waited until the other platoon had cleared from the area below. Then he checked his rear-view camera feed and confirmed no Draactals had yet arrived, and then said: “Alpha platoon, follow me!”
Rade vaulted off the ledge.
He fired a burst of countering thrust a moment before he hit the ground, and felt the vibrations travel up the inner actuators that pressed into his jumpsuit on all sides and cocooned him inside the cockpit. Dust erupted in a shockwave around him.
He checked his damage screen. He had some armor and ballistic shield damage from the Draactal attack, but otherwise all systems were green.
“Which way?” Bomb asked.
To the south and west lay that barren plain of rocks. But east, the mountain range continued northward, all the way to the horizon.
“I suggest southwest,” the Anarchist replied.
“If it’s all the same,” Rade said. “I’d prefer north. It’s safer if we follow the mountain range. I’d rather be here, than exposed out on the plains. Plus, a good portion of the Draactals could be rounding the mountain. If we head southwest, they might spot us. While Hoplites and Brigands can outrun them, the Titans with you simply can’t. They’ll overheat at those speeds, and drop out. Unless you’d prefer to lose a good portion of your escort?”
“We will head north, and stay close to the mountain range,” the Anarchist said.
“Thank you,” Rade said.
“But I would still like to send scouts to the west,” the Anarchist said.
“That’s certainly your prerogative,” Rade said.
The Anarchist sent two Hoplites west, while leading the rest of his units north. Rade followed the main group.
He kept an eye on his overhead map; signal reception was relatively good out here, with the main platoons following the shoulder of the mountains, while the two scouts headed west across the lower elevation plains. However, when the two Hoplites passed
the twenty-klick mark, their indicators abruptly froze as they passed out of range.
“By the way, I’m detecting high concentrations of lead in the rocks here,” Snakeoil said at one point. “The cliff beside us is full of it.”
“Is that good or bad?” Rade asked his lead comm officer.
“Neither,” Snakeoil said. “Well, it is bad if we intend to climb the cliff. Because these particular lead compounds will be a whole lot harder to compress, compared to the opposite side of the mountain. It will be hard to make headway here, if we’re forced to climb…”
“Good to know,” Rade said.
The mechs of Rade and the others blended in well with the surrounding rocks so that any visual-based scans from orbit would have difficulty picking them up. They weren’t moving too quickly, either, so they would be relatively hidden on the thermal bands, thanks to the thermal masking. The Hoplites and the Titans had similar equipment, though the Titans had a slightly higher thermal bleed, which would make them stand out to infrared detectors. Hopefully, the heat of the sun, as reflected and emitted from the surrounding surfaces, would mask those details.
“How long before the sun sets?” Lui asked.
“The days here are six Earth days long,” Cynthia replied. “While the nights are four. We’re in the second day of the six-day cycle.”
The shoulder of the mountain passed beneath a particularly sheer section of wall. The formation had overhangs of rock protruding close to the surface.
“Those protrusions could offer cover, if we needed it,” Tahoe said. “They continue for a long way.”
“Yes,” Rade said. “But see those cracks in the rock above them? Doesn’t look too reassuring. I’d hate to have the wall come crashing down on us while we were underneath.”
“Those formations look like rolls of fat,” Bender said. “Or a little like breasts, even. See, those two have nipples.”
“Bro, that looks nothing like a woman’s breasts,” Manic said. “A cow’s udder, maybe.”
“Cow’s udder, my ass!” Bender said.
“What, you’re saying it looks like your ass?” Manic said. “Not surprising… though it makes sense, I suppose, considering you’re always yelping when you sit down on a toilet seat. Squeezing your little nipples, are you?”