REV: Requiem: an epic military sci-fi novel (REV Warriors Part 2 Book 3)

by T. R. Harris

  For his part, David still had a lot to get out of the children. They were his most stable source for advanced REV genetic material. They had also been the impetus behind both the discovery of Seken stealth technology and the Azlorean jump-ships. It was their designs that Earth was now racing to place in all their warships. It would be their genius that would save the Human race from certain destruction. And there was still so much more to do—

  “I’m going to save my father,” Monica announced, breaking the awkward silence in the room.

  “What?” both David and Anton said.

  “I’m going to help Angus Price save my father.”

  David scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t do that.”

  “You have trained me in every discipline necessary to survive, and my REV body will do the rest. If I’m as superior as you say I am, then I must put that superiority to work. I just learned who my birth father is, and in the same breath, that he’ll soon be dead. Whether I succeed or not is immaterial. I owe him the effort for what he has had to endure throughout the years thinking I died and that I caused the death of Joanie Hollis.”

  “You didn’t cause her death,” Anton said. He pointed at Cross. “He did.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It’s what Zac Murphy believes to be the truth. I want to meet him. I have heard so much of him throughout my life. I’m proud to be his daughter. He needs to know that.”

  David looked anxiously to Anton, hoping he would step up to help change her mind. But his eyes were distant, staring past Monica to a vision he could only see in his mind. “And I have a mother and a father whom I’ve never met. Neither of them know I exist. It’s time they learned. I’ll go with you.”

  David sprung to his feet, the Rev in his system now fully activated.

  “No! I can’t let you!”

  Monica and Anton remained seated, now looking calmly at the scientist.

  “There is nothing you can do to stop us,” Monica stated flatly.

  “You could be killed!” David screamed. “You may be the top REVs of all time, but you can still be killed. I can’t let that happen. You’re too valuable.”

  “You have plenty of our essence in jars in your refrigerator,” Anton pointed out. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Even if you go, there’s no way you can save Zac. You heard what I told Angus. It’s impossible.”

  Monica smiled. “Impossible is what we do.”

  “I’ve not giving you a jump-ship, and you can’t get anywhere near Voris without one.”

  Anton snickered. “Then we’ll build the units when we meet with my father. You forget who designed the modules in the first place.”

  Dammit!

  “Please don’t do this. You could be sacrificing the future of Humanity for just a few moments of emotional bonding. Trust me; it won’t last. Don’t let your passions cloud your judgment.”

  Monica looked at Anton. “We just had our whole lives ripped out from under us, shattering everything we once knew was true, and I think we are handling it remarkably well.”

  “Even if you could get to Voris, you probably won’t get there in time to save Zac. Zaphin will not keep him around forever.”

  “He will until he achieves his final victory over us—and him.”

  “And when we fight back with the jump-ships, stopping the Seken and Azloreans? What then? The only victory he may have is in killing Zac.”

  “That’s something I will deal with at the time,” Monica replied.

  David looked at Anton again, hoping he’d had a change of heart.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “Even if Zac dies, I still have a mother and father I’ve never met who are not prisoners of the Azloreans.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  Anton smirked. “Admit it, Doctor Cross, it would be glorious to see all us REVs making a heroic last stand against an entire planet of rampaging aliens. A requiem for the REVs.”

  David Cross gnashed his teeth. He had raised the children since even before their official birth; he knew them better than anyone. Besides being of incredible strength and ability, they were also emotionally charged, sometimes displaying the same intensity of an NT-4 REV on a Run but in complete control. They were going, and he couldn’t stop them. And because of that…

  “Then I’m going with you,” he said morosely.

  “No, you’re not,” Monica stated firmly.

  “I am. Although I am not your biological father, I still love the two of you as if I were. I raised you; I taught you; I created you. You’re not only valuable to the Human race; you’re also valuable to me. Besides, you could use another Delta REV on your side, even an old fogey like me.”

  “You don’t need to do this,” Anton said.

  David snorted. “In all honesty, I want to. I’m over ninety years old, and all I’ve ever done is hide the fact that I’m a REV. I think it’s time I start using some of my latent talents for what they were made for. Let’s all go on a Run.”

  A jump-ship would have been nice to take with them to meet the fleet, but in the end, it wasn’t necessary. As Anton pointed out, the children could build both stealth and jump units onsite. It was time that they needed, and they found that in a buzz ship Cross had at the Borin-Noc base.

  Buzz ships were the fastest vessels ever built, capable of making the run from Earth to the Outer Reaches in only forty-five days, instead of the four months required by the swiftest warships. It was all engine, with cramped living compartments and no armament. But with Borin-Noc much closer to the Outer Reaches than Earth, even a jump-ship would take three months to meet up with the fleet. The buzz ship could do it in fifteen days. And without knowing the timetable for Zac’s impending death, there was no time to waste.

  The three REVs boarded the vessel without anyone questioning their authority. Cross was the head honcho at the former Qwin base on Borin-Noc, which had been designated Camp Garcia after the heroic sacrifice made by a young REV in the middle years of the Human-Antaere war. All three of the passengers were accomplished pilots, not because of any extensive training, but because they were REVs. A brief overview was all it took for them to get the controls down, and then they were off.

  Angus was still neck-deep in getting the fleet out of the Seken Federation, so Cross figured he wouldn’t shirk that responsibility to go looking for Zac, not until the armada was relatively safe. He was still fifteen days or so from the boundary, barring any surprises.

  Cross didn’t let Angus know they were coming. He had a job to do, and knowing that the son he never knew he had was on his way to the Taipei may be too much of a distraction.

  Besides, David thought, the surprise on Angus’s face when he found out his son was alive would be priceless—as well as painful, but not in the way one would imagine. Unlike when Monica and Anton learned the truth, David was sure Angus wouldn’t be so … understanding. There was bound to be blood and broken furniture. That much was a given.

  Chapter 8

  Darion approached the door to the alien’s cell, toting a briefcase-size equipment module. The guards knew her; she was the one who installed the prisoner’s security collar.

  “We are getting error readings on the security device,” she announced. “I must do a diagnostic.”

  There were two guards, both large and strong and armed with the new beam weapons that had played such a prominent role in the arena show, as well as the video she’d stolen. They were formidable weapons; however, their existence could be the evidence that proves the case.

  Darion and Skor spent the last three days coming up with a plan, after which Skor brought in three of his friends from his work and played the video for them. They were chosen not only for their closeness to the couple but because each had often expressed anti-government sentiments. Even more than Darion and Skor, they would embrace the truth that the government would conspire to kill its citizens for the sake of power. But before they invited them, the pair discussed what they would do if any balked at helping.
It wasn’t an easy decision, but the stakes were too high. Darion kept her official service weapon at the ready in case it would be needed. Fortunately, it wasn’t.

  A guard unlocked the door and then entered before Darion, placing himself between her and the prisoner. The other one stood back in the hallway, his weapon drawn.

  Zac Murphy was on the bed and didn’t stand up when they entered the room. He seemed resigned to his fate, or else he was trusting that Nassmar would ferret out the conspirators and reveal the truth, as he promised he would do.

  “You can leave us; I will be fine,” Darion told the guard.

  He frowned. “That would not be wise, Supervisor. Surely, you have seen what these beasts are capable of.”

  “I am aware.” She looked at Zac and smiled. “You will not harm me, will you? The guards will be outside, and we are under surveillance.” She looked up at a camera placed along the ceiling.

  “You’ll be okay. I don’t want any trouble.”

  Darion turned to the guard. “See, as I say, I will be fine.”

  The guard still wasn’t convinced, but Darion outranked him by several degrees, and he would be right outside the door. He nodded and then backed out, shutting the door behind him.

  Darion pulled one of the small dining tables over close to the bed, along with a chair. She set the testing module on the table and opened the lid. A few seconds later, she had the equipment buzzing and sending out low-pitch harmonic hums. She sat in the chair and leaned in to examine the collar.

  “We have been receiving error messages regarding your collar,” she said loudly, over the din of the equipment. “It is nothing serious, and the device is still functional. Do not attempt anything believing that it is no longer active. It is. And I assure you, the electric shock it will deliver will be enough to disrupt your brain waves, at least long enough for support troops to arrive. We have tested it on other Human prisoners we had. It is highly effective.”

  The alien shrugged and sat quietly on the bed as Darion moved in closer and began inspecting the inch-thick metal band. As she did so, she leaned in close to his ear.

  “The equipment has been calibrated to disrupt the audio pick up in the room,” she whispered. “And I have positioned my body to block the movements of your mouth. I know you can understand me. And I, too, have a translation device. Now, we haven’t much time.”

  Zac Murphy turned his head slightly so his two large eyes were only inches from her quad-set. “Who are you?”

  “I am Darion. I was monitoring your interview with Inquisitor Nassmar, and I know the truth of which you speak. My monitoring was on visual at the time, but since then, I have acquired a full recording of the meeting, as well as what happened afterward.”

  “What happened afterward?”

  “The Antaerean, Kallen Zaphin, reentered the room, and it was revealed how he and the Inquisitor were working together to deceive you. There is no investigation of your allegations being conducted. It was all done as a way to make you stop talking.”

  The alien pulled away. Darion grasped the collar and pulled him back in closer.

  “I said this will not hurt!” she spoke, loud enough to be heard over the humming of the equipment. “Please sit still.” Then quieter: “Do not move. We must not show we are having a conversation.”

  “What is this all about? Why are you telling me this?”

  “I am a Seventh Level Security Officer. Much of what you said during the interview I can corroborate. And after the second meeting, I fully believe that what you say is true. Elements within my government helped facilitate the murder of millions of our people.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “That is why I am here. My mate and I have thought of a plan, but I will need your cooperation.”

  “Go ahead. What plan?”

  “We wish you to escape.”

  The alien’s eyes grew wide. Then he shook his head. “That’s all well and good, but then what? I’d be the only Human on your planet, and everyone will be out with pitchforks looking for me.”

  Darion frowned. The alien word pitchfork did not translate correctly. But she got the meaning.

  “We will hide you. And once safely away, you will make broadcasts to let my people know what really happened before we commit fully to this war.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “A question first. If you could get free of the collar in the hallway, could your special abilities be enough to overcome the guards?”

  The Human grinned. “Not a problem,” he said with confidence, confidence Darion hoped wasn’t baseless. “How are you going to make that happen?”

  Now Darion grinned. She had spent the past three days working out the details of this part of the plan, and the more she thought of it, the more excited she became.

  “Since my division is responsible for your security collar—as well as the recording that took place—we will immediately become suspect in your escape. Therefore, I will make arrangements for another other than myself to take the blame.”

  The bright blue eyes of the alien squinted as he grinned. “No kidding; I like it. But why, how?”

  “There is an associate of mine which I have hated for a very long time. She is evil and disloyal. She will deserve all that happens to her. And in the end, the good resulting from her sacrifice will justify the tragedy about to befall her.”

  “I like the way you think. Go on.”

  “I will tamper with the locking clasp on your collar and then send her in to repair it. Let her do this. I can still control the locking mechanism remotely. You will soon be transferred to the medical section, where you will be examined to learn of your special abilities. While in the hallway with the guards, I will release the latch, and the collar will fall off. At that point, it will be up to you to subdue your escorts. Afterward, during the investigation, I will replace the clasping device with an altered one and then accuse my associate of orchestrating your escape.”

  “Sweet. What then; where do I go?”

  “You go down, not up, in the building. Below is a rail system for the workers. The timing of your escape will correspond with an off-period for the train. Enter the tunnel in the RED direction. Along the way, you will be met at a side corridor by an associate. From there, you will be moved out of the city.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then you will begin making broadcasts to whoever will listen. As the fervor grows, we will release the video. This action will again be traced to my associate; I will make sure of that.”

  “You’re counting on the people believing what I say. It’s a pretty big risk.”

  “Is it any more of a risk than the millions of Azloreans who will be sent off to fight on faraway lands and in the cold of space? What you did—what you were tricked into doing—caused incalculable pain and suffering. I do not want to see more, not without proper cause.”

  “When is this medical transfer to take place?”

  “Two days. We still have much to prepare. I must go now. But before I do, I want to say that I do not hold you responsible for what happened. As Skor says, you were the tool, not the operator. With your help, we will find the operators and put a stop to their evil plan.”

  Darion pulled away.

  “There, the collar is fixed,” she announced to the room. “But be forewarned, this device has been calibrated to your nervous system. It will be effective in stopping you, no matter how special you may think you are.”

  She packed up her equipment and left, leaving the small alien on the bed, looking sad and defeated. In the hallway, she grinned. He will play his part with aplomb. As will she and her friends. If not … Her smile faded as the alternatives filled her thoughts.

  Chapter 9

  This one had been bloody.

  Angus moved among the damaged 308s in the hangar bay as the last of his ships were recovered. Medical crews were peeling some of the Zeta pilots out of the cockpits in a strange silent symphony of death and dest
ruction. The fighters were programmed to return to the Taipei autonomously, if possible. Some did just that, ferrying their dead or severely injured pilots back home. Most of the casualties can from damage to the canopy, with shrapnel ripping through pressure suits. Even REVs couldn’t withstand the effects of near absolute zero and lack of oxygen.

  But there were no cries of pain from the survivors as the med techs placed them on gurneys and in wheelchairs for transport to the ship’s hospital. REVs didn’t feel the pain, so there was no need to release the anguish verbally. But Angus could read it on their faces. Many of the more severely injured would be out of the fight permanently, which bothered them the most. They knew the stakes. This wasn’t just about the salvation of the planet Earth. It involved the survival of the species, of which they were an offshoot. They would fight to the death to defend Humanity, but in some cases, that option had been taken from them. They may die, but it wouldn’t be at the controls of a fighter or on a field of battle with railguns strapped to their arms. They would be victims, just like everyone else, and not KIAs—killed in action—which they would gladly lay down their lives to become.

  Angus moved up to a Zeta lying on a gurney. Half his face and right shoulder was a mass of black, charred flesh. But it wasn’t from heat but from cold. The skin showed the effects from the most severe frostbite imaginable, from that of outer space.

  Angus gently grasped the REV’s good arm. “Hang in there, son. We’ll do the best we can to get you back in the fight.”