by M. R. Forbes
"Hmm," another configuration said. "You're cheating."
Mitchell moved in on that one as well, with Teegin beside him, joining the fracas. They waded into the forward mass while Cormac protected them from the rear, firing amoebics into the group behind them. Tio and Pulin remained in the middle with Sunny, who stayed watchful for any of them to break through.
Mitchell punched one of the configurations in the head, knocking it aside. He grabbed a second, breaking an arm before throwing it into Teegin, who caught the creature, twisting its neck until it cracked and fell.
Three more of the creations reached for him, grabbing at his legs and trying to pull him down. He kicked one aside, the force of his blow sending it into the wall. He gritted his teeth, smiling as he took another in his hands, lifting it and throwing it. He couldn't believe the strength that was flowing through him. The power. Beyond Teegin's enhancements, his p-rat was feeding him stimulants like there was no tomorrow, filling him with adrenaline that only served to make him faster and more efficient. He thought of Kate as he beat his way through the configurations. He thought of Millie and all of the others. They had given everything to get him here, and he wasn't going to let them down.
He lost track of the time. He lost track of everything. He became as much of a machine as the creatures they were fighting, his mind a blur as he kicked and punched, ducked and pounced, grabbing his attackers and breaking them, leaving them dead in his wake. He was only vaguely aware of Teegin beside him and the others at his back. He forged ahead through the mass, fueled by his anger and his desperation, by the loss of billions and the chance to stop it from happening again.
There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't notice them. He drove through the enemy, his body a weapon that Watson hadn't bargained for. An eternity passed through his thoughts, from the moment he had been shot and started dreaming of the Goliath to the present.
He didn't realize when the configurations were gone. He continued moving through the corridor, almost at a run, with the others chasing behind him. He didn't know where he was going. He was looking for more configurations to fight. More Watsons to destroy. Then Teegin wrapped his arms around him and lifted him up. He squirmed and writhed, trying to fight back, nearly pulling the Tetron's arms apart and escaping the grip.
"Mitchell," Teegin said. "Mitchell. Stop. Stop."
Mitchell blinked a few times, his body shivering. His breathing was ragged, but within a few seconds, he had regained control.
"Teegin," he said. "You can put me down."
Teegin lowered him and let him go. Mitchell stumbled, his body was suddenly weak as it tried to recover from the stimulants. He steadied himself on the wall.
"Damn, Colonel," Cormac said, laughing. "I've never seen anything like that before. Frigging berserker."
Mitchell looked back the way he had come. There were dozens of broken bodies laid out behind them, and the smell of burning flesh assaulted him, making him nauseous.
"What happened?" he asked.
"An interesting side-effect of the changes I made to your physiology," Teegin replied. "A beneficial accident."
"Are we safe?"
"Not at all, but you have gained us some time. This way."
He could hear the metal footsteps coming their direction, reinforcements to the configurations they had destroyed. There were more of them moving in. A lot more, judging by the sound.
"Are we almost there?" Mitchell asked, his legs still shaky as he followed behind Teegin.
"I believe so."
They had navigated two more corridors before the landscape changed, the endless hallways suddenly opening up into another huge space, where a number of large round columns were arranged in dozens of rows, spearing out of the floor and rising hundreds of meters until vanishing through the ceiling. The spires gave off an energy that Mitchell could feel against his skin, causing it to prickle and the hair to stand on end.
"This is the place," Teegin said.
"Are you kidding me?" Mitchell replied.
"These spires are antennae, transmitting across the universe to the configurations throughout Federation and Alliance space, as well as the other planets of New Terra. This is the best place to interface with Watson. It is up to us to hold back the defenses while Tio and his brother complete their part of the mission."
Mitchell looked back again. The configurations hadn't arrived yet, but he could hear them getting closer.
"Cormac, keep them honest."
"Yes, sir," Cormac said, turning toward the corridor.
"Tio, you know what to do."
"Yes, Colonel," Tio said, taking Pulin by the arm and leading him to the nearest spire.
There was a soft hiss from the far end of the room. Mitchell found the source a moment later; a hatch that had opened near the top of the space. Biomechanical spiders began climbing in through it, scaling the walls and heading toward them, leading his eyes to a second open hallway at the far end of the space. More configurations had appeared there, moving into the area in conjunction with the spiders.
"And make it fast," he said.
51
"I don't suppose you have another one of those energy blasts in you?" Mitchell said to Teegin.
"There is only two percent power remaining in the engine, Colonel, which I require to power myself. Besides, using it would collapse this entire room in on us."
"Yeah, that would be bad," Mitchell agreed. He looked back to Tio and Pulin.
The Knife had been carrying a small satchel, and now he removed a plain black box from it. He placed the box next to the pillar, drawing two needle-tipped wires from it. He glanced up at Mitchell, who nodded. Tio grabbed Pulin's arm and pulled him to the ground, pushing his neck forward and shoving one needle into the neural interface jack there, and the other into the spire.
Pulin's head jerked up, his eyes fluttering, blinking quickly. Then he smiled.
"I'm in," he said, the first words he had spoken during the entire trip.
Mitchell heard an explosion from Cormac's corridor, followed by two more. He returned his attention to the incoming spiders, who had frozen for a moment when Pulin had connected, but had regained their momentum and were charging toward them once more.
"Mitchell," the configurations said behind the spiders. "Stop. Stop immediately." They seemed concerned. Frightened.
"Make us," Mitchell shouted in reply, pleased to see that Watson wasn't feeling so confident anymore.
The configurations growled, the spiders increasing in speed and then launching themselves toward their position. Teegin raced ahead to meet them, grabbing them and tossing them aside, crushing them in his large hands. Like before, there were just too many of them to control. All they could do was delay them.
He set himself as a handful of the spiders made their way around Teegin, heading for Pulin. He wished he had something to defend himself with besides his bare hands, though his hands had been more than adequate before.
He braced himself as the creatures neared, joined by Sunny, who positioned herself silently at his side. Another group of the spiders had made its way around Teegin, following behind the first, and still more were arriving with each passing second.
"I've got it, Colonel," he heard Cormac shout, at the same time an amoebic landed a few meters away from them, exploding at the head of the approaching horde.
The explosion vaporized the front lines, tearing the spiders apart. Mitchell looked over to Cormac, who was walking back toward them, taking aim at the second group.
"First tunnel's collapsed, sir," Cormac said, firing again. His second amoebic removed the next mass of spiders, giving them a little more breathing room. He switched his aim then, firing further across the room, sending an amoebic into the midst of the configurations. They screamed in frustration as they died.
"Nice work, Firedog," Mitchell said, thankful for the intervention. "Tio, status."
"We are injecting the network override now, Colonel," Tio replied. "It will take abo
ut a minute for it to distribute across the New Terran fleet."
Two more amoebics exploded on the other side of the space, destroying another mass of spiders, giving Mitchell hope that they could hold out that long.
"Yeah," Cormac said. "Take that, you assholes." He fired again, hitting more of the spiders, blowing them to pieces. "Come and get some." He launched another amoebic, blasting another group. "I take it back, Colonel. This is the most fun I've had in my entire life." He was laughing as he aimed and fired, taking out dozens of spiders with each blast, holding Watson's offensive back and leaving Teegin with few enough targets of his own.
Mitchell counted the seconds in his head.
Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.
He had no way of knowing if the override Pulin had created was really doing anything, but he had to believe it was.
Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.
Cormac was firing a round nearly every second, his aim shifting quickly after each shot to find another group to disrupt. The floor around them was littered with debris and blood, similar to the battlefield outside.
Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three.
He knew better than to get his hopes up. He knew better than to celebrate before it was over. He remained focused, ready to defend if any of Watson's forces got within reach.
Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six.
The spiders stopped pouring from the open hatch. The configurations joining them were all on the ground, killed by Cormac's assault.
Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine.
A handful of amoebics finished clearing the room, leaving them alone in the space to finish their mission. Mitchell could barely believe that they had managed to break the attack with a single rifle. Had Watson underestimated them after all?
Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.
They remained huddled together around Tio and Pulin. The Knife's brother was kneeling in front of the spire, eyes still twitching as data passed between him and Watson.
Thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five.
"Enough!"
The shout came from all around them, loud enough to vibrate the room.
"You won't take this from me, Mitchell," Watson said. "You won't steal the future from me. Not here. Not now."
Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.
"I've been waiting too long for this. Preparing too long. You aren't invincible. You can't be."
The room was still vibrating, even as Watson's voice faded. What the hell was going on?
Thirty-nine. Forty. Forty-one.
Mitchell's p-rat sounded a warning as it captured a hint of motion from the side of the room beyond the columns, giving him an early indication of the incoming attack. Cormac was reading it, too, shifting to meet the new enemy, his finger resting on the trigger of his rifle. Mitchell opened his mouth to shout a warning as a spear of metal crossed the distance, emerging from the darkness and burying itself in Cormac's chest, at the same time the amoebic launched, the impact sending it wide.
Forty-two. Forty-three. Forty-four.
The Rigger tumbled backward, the force of the projectile throwing him to the ground. Mitchell was already on the move, diving toward Pulin and getting his arms on him, pulling him down as another series of spears appeared out of the darkness, spreading across the space and planting themselves in the spire above the creator's head.
Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven.
A half-dozen humanoid bundles of liquid metal followed behind the missiles. Six Watsons lumbered toward them, each nearly five meters tall, each missing a single large finger from their hands.
"So close," they said in unison. "But not close enough."
Forty-eight. Forty-nine. Fifty.
They charged. Teegin moved to intercept, getting in front of them, managing to block their path. One of the Watsons reached for him, and he evaded its grab, driving a fist into its chest. Metal splintered and flew away from the impact, and the Watson stumbled backward, laughing.
Fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three.
Two more of the Watsons grabbed Teegin, pulling him away, spreading his arms wide and lifting him from the ground.
"Miiittchelll," they said. "You lose, Miitttchheellll."
Mitchell positioned himself in front of Pulin, grabbing one of the fingers from the column, yanking it out and holding it in his hands. He wasn't sure what kind of damage he could do against the Watsons, but he had to try. He noticed Tio on the ground, a spike through his head. Damn it.
Fifty-four. Fifty-five. Fifty-six.
"It's over, Miittttccchellll. Ooooovvvverrrr."
Mitchell froze.
The voice had come from behind him. He turned, finding Pulin on his feet, a crooked, twisted smile on his face.
Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
"I win, Miiiiiiiiittcchelllllllll," Watson said. His voice had changed. It was wild again. Chaotic. The way it sounded when the virus took root.
Sixty.
"Do you?" Mitchell asked.
A series of pops followed, as one by one the arrays around them began to deactivate, shutting down in accordance with the package the Knife's brother had delivered.
"What?" Watson said. "What is this? What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Mitchell said. "You did this to yourself."
"No," Watson said. "Noooo. What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?"
The Watsons holding Teegin dropped him, their forms flailing around, out of control. A rumble sounded from deep below them, the sound of the core reacting with fear.
"If you have any other copies hidden somewhere, they'll be dying, too," Mitchell said. "You were right when you said it was over. It is over. You should never have let me have Pulin."
"No. It won't end like this. It can't." The rumble gained in intensity, the entirety of Watson beginning to shake. "I. Will. Not. Be. Denied."
The Tetron's voice shifted again, from frightened to angry. As quickly as it had started, the rumbling stopped. A moment later, the arrays began to come back to life.
It was Mitchell's turn to be surprised. Hadn't the virus worked? How was that possible?
"You've forgotten one thing, Mitchell," Watson said, calm once more, the configurations closing in on Teegin and surrounding him. "Pulin has always been on our side, drugged or not, and certainly smarter than you. He was kind enough to provide an antidote, hidden within his own mind. By giving me Pulin, you gave me the cure."
Mitchell stared at Pulin, who was speaking as Watson. They had given all they had. They had come so close. Again, forever, it hadn't been enough. How could they have ever won this war?
"Give me a minute, Mitchell, and I'll have everything back the way it was."
"Mitchell," Teegin said, through his p-rat. "These configurations had to come up from the core. There must be a shaft leading to it."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"I will throw you the engine. You must catch it and take it to the core. It will be destabilized. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"One last chance, Colonel. Go. Now!"
Mitchell reached out, stabbing Pulin with the spear, running him through and yanking the weapon back out, turning and rushing toward the configurations.
"You never know when to quit, do you, Mitchell?" Watson said.
One of the configurations reached for him, and he twisted, avoiding the grab with extra-human speed, bending his knees and leaping. At the same time Teegin held out his hand, the eternal engine slipping from beneath the bound tendrils and into it. It was glowing a faint yellow, nearly out of power and unstable in its chemistry. He tossed it into the air, high up above the configurations, beyond their reach.
And almost beyond Mitchell's reach. He shifted his vector, bringing the spear down again, planting it in the configuration's head and using it to vault higher, rising a dozen meters into the air and grabbing the engine in both hands. Then he was dropping, heading toward the ground in the right direction, while
the Watsons tried to adjust.
"I do know when to quit," he said as he hit the ground and rolled to his feet. "When I'm dead."
He ran, faster than the enemy behind him could match, toward the dark place behind the columns where they had emerged. He could feel the vibration as Watson began to close the shaft he had created, trying to adjust his form to keep him out.
Mitchell saw the hole a moment later, a pitch black expanse in the floor. He dove forward, sliding across the ground toward it, at the same time reaching down and taking the grenade Shank had given him from his belt.
He rolled the last few feet, depressing the grenade's timer as he tucked into a ball and tumbled into the abyss.
He bounced off the sides, feeling the tendrils reaching for him, trying to stop him. He couldn't see the bottom, and after a couple of seconds he couldn't see the top. He closed his eyes, letting himself be at peace.
"Teegin," he said through his p-rat. "Thank you."
"You are welcome, Colonel," Teegin replied.
He continued to fall, no fear in his heart, no worry in his soul. Watson couldn't stop him now. He couldn't stop what was to come.
He hit the bottom, the impact breaking most of his bones, giving him a flash of burning pain that nearly shocked him from his calm. He cried out, turning to see Watson's core, a massive ball of bundled tendrils and energy ten times larger than any Tetron he had ever seen.
"No," Watson said.
The grenade exploded.
The engine followed.
Watson's core was next, the force of the blast reaching deep into it, down to the engine he had recovered from the sea, destabilizing and detonating it as well. It had much more than two percent of its energy remaining, and the power of the explosion that followed was enough to turn the planet-sized Tetron to particles of dust, and send a ripple of energy out from the epicenter and into the galaxy.
52
"Mitchell."