The Ninth: Invasion

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The Ninth: Invasion Page 45

by Benjamin Schramm


  “Well,” Cain said with a grin, “I’ve been with him from the start, and I barely believe it myself. How did you know the Shard wouldn’t rip you to shreds?”

  “Slasher,” Brent corrected. “And I didn’t.” He shrugged casually. “I figured I was as good as dead anyway, so what was to be lost by trying something crazy?”

  “So what were they like?” Liz asked.

  “He’s told you about them already,” Doug said, mildly irritated. “Ask him something new for a change.”

  “Be quiet, Dougie,” Marie said, punching him lightly on the shoulder, “no one else minds hearing about the big bad leaders of the Shards again.”

  “She’s right,” Tyra said as she leaned closer to Brent. “I still can’t believe there are so many of them. And that some are organic like us!”

  “When someone says ‘Shard’ I think of those spinning tripods of death,” Rhea said with a pale smile, “not little girls and balls of light.”

  “Just goes to show you not everything is so easy as black and white,” Dante said with a smirk.

  “Don’t try to sound superior; you were just as surprised as the rest of us at first,” Cain said with a chuckle. “Angela, what do you think about all of this? You’ve been very quiet.”

  “Brent’s worried about something,” she said in a melancholy voice, “something he doesn’t want to tell us.”

  “What is she talking about?” Liz asked.

  “I’m guessing from your tone of voice you’ve figured my secret out,” Brent said with a grin.

  “Secret?” Kindra asked in alarm. “What secret?”

  “We’re not going with him,” Angela said with a weak smile.

  “What?” Mahoney shouted.

  “She’s right. None of you can come with me to the Shard hub world.”

  “Why not, sir?” Dante demanded.

  “The Shards won’t attack other Shards. As long as they think I’m one of them they won’t lay a finger, or blade, on me. The rest of you aren’t so lucky.”

  “So we have to watch?” Tyra asked with a hint of fury in her voice.

  “Basically. I’ve sent word to Eos, and they should be sending whatever ships are nearby, but I have to face Second alone.”

  “Why is Eos sending ships?” Ronald asked.

  “Because while I’m down there dealing with Second, the rest of you and whatever ships Alden has will be the only ones who can stop Second’s Citadels.”

  “How exactly are we supposed to do that?” Humphrey mumbled.

  “Second’s ships can attack our ships, but not the other Citadels. If you position your ships to hide behind the other Citadels, Second won’t be able to fire on you.”

  “In other words, we are a distraction so you can take Second off guard,” Cain said.

  “Pretty much.”

  “How do you plan on beating him?” Liz asked with obvious concern.

  “I have no idea,” Brent said, smiling warmly at Liz. “But that hasn’t stopped me so far.”

  Liz forced a smile, but he could feel her worry. In fact, he could feel everyone’s worry. They didn’t think he could pull this off. Brent reached out his right hand and patted Liz on the head.

  “Don’t worry about me. I just want to know you’ll all be here when I get back.”

  The troopers all nodded. The P.A. gave out its warning tone.

  “We’ve reached the coordinates; you’ll want to see this,” the captain’s voice said.

  Reaching the bridge, the troopers took in the incredible sight. On the monitors were images of the Shard hub world at long range. Uncountable numbers of Citadels jostled around in an apparent gridlock. Second’s fleet was attempting to break through while the other Citadels hemmed them in. The others were keeping Second from refueling or rearming and even preventing his ships from jumping out. As soon as one ship would open a jump window another would move into the way. Unable to cause harm to one another, both ships would veer away to avoid a collision.

  “You’re going into that . . . alone?” Sanderson asked in awe.

  “Don’t have any choice,” Brent said with a nod. “It’s that or let Second wipe out whatever is left of humanity.”

  “Some choice,” Humphrey mumbled, watching the throbbing mass of Citadels. “I am so glad I’m not you.”

  Rhea nudged Humphrey forcefully.

  “What?” Humphrey mumbled confidently. “I, for one, fully believe he’ll come back.”

  “He has to,” Marie said, tapping Brent’s back lightly. “I made him promise to never make Liz cry again.”

  Liz giggled slightly as she hugged him. He could still sense their concern.

  “How exactly are you getting in there, sir?” Dante asked.

  “The ship Third lent me, the one waiting in the cargo bay, has a short range jump drive.”

  “So, I guess this is goodbye?” The captain asked.

  “For now. Third should be sending you target data on which Citadels are Second’s. When the rest of the ships show up, show them what you can really do.”

  The captain nodded and saluted him. The rest of the bridge crew quickly followed. Brent caught himself before he started to bow and forced himself to return the salute. The bridge crew had had enough of the Shard for one day. He headed to the cargo bay with his friends following behind. He could feel their fear surge as they spotted the waiting ship in the bay. It looked exactly like a Citadel, only a tiny fraction in size – like a scale model.

  “We’ll be waiting for you,” Tyra said with a forced smile.

  “Hurry back,” Penny said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Don’t be so serious!” Cain shouted. “Kick some tin can for us!”

  “You can count on it,” Brent said chuckling.

  As he entered the ship, Dante bowed to him like the tripod. Imitating his movements, the rest of the squad bowed. Brent smiled as he returned the bow. When the hatch sealed, he took his seat. Placing his hand on the wall, he readied the ship. Through the ship’s sensors he watched as the others left the cargo bay. Liz and Penny were crying.

  Once the cargo bay was sealed, Brent departed. Just before entering the Wall, he sent his transmission to Third. Third would block the Commonwealth navigation network around the hub world. Brent had never sent any message to Eos. As the Wall passed over the small ship, he knew he was alone. Whatever awaited him was for him to face. As the tingling sensation of the Wall left him, he was content in the knowledge his friends would be safe.

  Navigating through the massive Citadels was difficult, to say the least. They would try to move out of his way in fear of damaging another Shard, but there wasn’t always somewhere else for them to move to. Squeezing through whatever small gaps he could find, Brent traveled through layer after layer of gridlocked Citadels. After a seeming eternity of dodging the moving ships and navigating the maze, he reached the hub world. The ships that were docked had to belong to the others as they calmly sat obstructing the available ports. He could only imagine Second’s frustration. Unable to lay a finger on those that blocked him in, trapping him when he was so close to his goal.

  Brent wondered how frustrated his friends must have been as well. They must have realized by now he was the one responsible for Third’s blocking them. Most likely they had contacted Alden only to find he was completely in the dark about their plan. However, a little frustration was a small price to pay for safety. Second was hemmed in, unable to lay a finger on them or anyone else. Brent knew he had to hurry; the Forged wouldn’t be able to keep him that way forever.

  Eventually, Second would manage to jump out a ship or two and relieve the gridlock. It was impossible to say exactly how much time Brent had left, but he had a feeling it wasn’t as much as he would like. Docking at one of the tiny docking ports deep into the structure, he entered the hub. There were several unused ports this far in, but not a single one of them was large enough for Second’s Citadels to dock.

  The architecture of the hub world was simila
r to Third’s base hidden under the ice. Poor illumination followed Brent as he navigated the hallways. Of course, the Shard had no real need for lighting. Every Shard was linked and knew the exact layout of the area they were in. Brent could tap into that data by placing his hand on a wall and thinking about a map. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where Second was. A large central chamber was transmitting orders almost constantly, no doubt Second attempting to steal control from the others and get his forces out.

  Brent found it slightly odd that there were no Slashers patrolling the corridors. Then again, with so many Citadels overhead, it wasn’t likely that the Commonwealth would be dropping ground forces any time soon. There were the only two beings on the entire hub world and the fate of the Commonwealth depended on which one of them survived. He checked his location again. He was getting close to Second.

  Brent pulled out his rifle and double-checked it. Mahoney had also given him a few grenades that he clutched tightly. Rounding the final corner, he silently snuck up behind Second. His silver-toned hands were moving feverously over the console in front of him. Brent edged closer and closer. He could hear Second talking to himself, ranting at the betrayal of the others and emitting half-uttered sentences that made no sense. He was almost close enough to use the grenades.

  As Brent readied for his throw, Second froze. Second’s hands became still and he went silent. Slowly but surely, Second’s head started to turn. Brent’s skin crawled as Second’s head turned completely around. Second’s torso was still facing away from Brent while his head stared at him. If Second had been organic, he would have just snapped his own neck. The silvery lips curled up in a smile.

  “So, you’re the one who’s going to stop me.” Second’s voice didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound anything like the image had back in Third’s lair.

  The machine’s voice was a mix of random tones and inflections. From one word to the next, he would shift randomly though emotions. A word or two would be happy or even glad while the next one would be depressed or filled with rage. Third was right; something serious had happened to Second.

  “If you were counting on me not being able to hurt you, think again, organic. I reject you as anything more than a pathetic worm.”

  Second started moving his hand toward him. Without hesitation, Brent tossed the grenades at Second. Second instinctively caught the grenades as if they were playing a game of catch. Second showed no emotion as the grenades exploded in his hands. As the smoke cleared, Brent realized Second was gone.

  Something wasn’t right, though. Brent could still feel a strong presence of jumbled emotions. Darting his gaze around, he searched for Second. The sound of falling debris sent his eyes upward. Second’s hands and feet were gripping the ceiling as the inhuman creature moved around like a spider. The grenades had damaged some of his “skin,” and gears and other machinery were visible underneath with tiny sparks of light dancing around in unseen groves. He realized the top half of Second’s torso was facing the wall, while his lower half was facing away. Apparently, Second was able to completely rotate any part of his body.

  Realizing Brent had spotted him, Second quickly walked along the ceiling toward his prey. The unnatural movements of his arms and legs sent a shiver down Brent’s spine as he opened fire with his rifle. Contorting his body into impossible shapes, Second easily dodged the incoming shots. Swinging his left arm like a club, Second sent Brent skidding along the floor. With a loud and painful thud, he landed against the bank of control units in the center of the room. Before Brent could recover, Second leaped off the wall and landed inches away. While Second’s right foot snatched Brent’s rifle, his right hand grabbed his neck and lifted him off the ground.

  “You honestly thought you could beat me?” Second asked in his jumbled speech.

  “Still do,” he said as he pulled the trigger on his concealed sidearm.

  Second leapt back screeching in pain. Brent had hit Second’s left leg perfectly. The broken machine returned to climbing on the walls, his left leg hanging lifelessly.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Second shouted in a variety of tones and moods.

  Brent pulled out his second side arm and opened fire on Second, firing as many shots as he could in Second’s general direction. Second’s reaction time was severely slowed, but still too fast for Brent to hit him. Using his shots to herd Second, he forced him off the wall and back onto the floor at the opposite end of the room. Pretending that one of his weapons malfunctioned, he halted his fire and slammed the side arm against the wall. Second took the bait and lunged for him.

  Brent quickly dived out of the way and fired wildly on the ceiling overhead. A large plate of the black metal crashed down from above and landed squarely on Second. Getting to his feet, Brent panted as he kept his weapons locked on the debris. Without warning, the large metal plate flew off Second and embedded itself in the wall. Sparks flashed from the newly formed gash in the wall. Second stood up and stared at Brent in pure hatred. Second lowered his left arm and forcefully ripped off his damaged leg.

  Brent opened fire, only to find Second’s reaction time had doubled. He easily dodged every shot as he grew closer and closer. When he grew close enough, Second lashed out with his arm. Brent dived under the attack only to be slammed against the ground. Second had caught him with his right leg and thrust him against the hard metal floor. Brent felt incredible pain as a sickening snapping sound assaulted his ear. Second lifted him off the ground and tossed him against a wall. Landing on his back, Brent found his left leg bent in an unnatural fashion. A massive throbbing pain informed him he wouldn’t be using it again.

  “An eye for an eye,” Second said as he calmly crawled along the wall over to his wounded prey.

  Brent tried to ignore the pain as he opened fire on Second. He couldn’t tell if the pain was slowing him down or if Second was moving even faster. Second continued to dodge all of the random shots as he grew closer. Second’s lips curled up as he snatched Brent’s side arms away from him. The look on Second’s face was one of complete victory. As Second pulled back his arm to deliver the final blow, Brent felt a strong pulse of pain rushing from his right arm.

  Looking down, he found his arm surging with green light. Brent could only stare as his hand was engulfed in burning green light. He focused on his arm, but the lights didn’t bend to his will. Suddenly, the lights started taking shape of their own accord. Brent’s eyes widened as he recognized what they were becoming. Extending out of his hand were three massive claws. The claws flexed for a moment before they narrowed and formed a single spear of light. He instantly recognized the shape as the one Third’s hand had become before he plunged it into him.

  Second didn’t seem to notice his victim wasn’t focused on him anymore. As Second prepared to strike at his prey, Brent shoved his right arm deep into Second’s chest. Surging pain filled Brent as the green light flared around his arm. Second looked as if he was completely paralyzed by the blow. The burning green light grew brighter and brighter. Brent’s eyes constricted against the intensity, but it continued to grow. Finally, the green faded to pure white light. As Brent closed his eyes against the light, he felt instantly lighter.

  Opening his eyes, he found Second gone. He sat there for a moment in disbelief, his muscles holding his outstretched arm firm. He slowly realized his leg wasn’t hurting any longer. Carefully he shifted and put some weight on it. To his surprise it supported his weight and seemed to be working perfectly. Standing up, Brent surveyed his surroundings. In every direction was white nothingness. Spinning in place, Brent made a complete revolution. It didn’t matter where he faced or looked, there was nothing but light around him.

  A single lightly echoing tap caught his attention. Turning around, Brent found an old man sitting comfortably, tapping his cane against the ground. He was certain the man hadn’t been there a moment before. Looking down, he realized he couldn’t see any kind of ground as it faded perfectly into the rest of the white, but the fact he
wasn’t falling and that the cane made a sound meant there had to be some kind of surface they were residing on.

  “Welcome, my boy,” the old man said in a kind voice. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Brent walked closer to the old man. The man was wearing clothes he had never seen before. Even the materials used to make the clothes seemed foreign. By themselves, the clothes looked tight and restrictive, but the old man wore them comfortably.

  “Come sit,” the old man urged. “You must have a million questions.”

  With a slow and graceful motion, the old man gestured to Brent’s right. Looking in the directed direction, he found a chair similar to the one the old man rested on.

  “Where are we?” he asked, not sitting.

  “I call this place the mist of endless reflection. Although, to tell you the truth, my colleagues never liked that term. Too romanticized for their tastes. You can call this place the edge of the Spark, like they did, if you prefer.”

  “Edge of the spark?” Brent asked, looking around the endless expanse.

  “Capital S if you please.”

  “So what is a Spark? Capital S of course.”

  “Well, calling it a soul had too many religious connotations. My colleagues would trip over that term every time it passed their lips; they almost seemed allergic to it. I suppose we could have called it consciousness, but that seemed too generic a term. Spark was a happy medium. The Spark of life was a common enough term at the time that most didn’t require clarification. Although, I suppose that in the fullness of time the common becomes the arcane, and the arcane eventually turns into the forgotten.”

  “So, this place?”

  “The technical explanation would require four-and-a-half-days of non-stop lecture, firmly based on math that would require perhaps a year or two to properly explain to you. Put in simple terms, this place is the result of perfect communication. Our two Sparks are joined together here; we can speak to one another on a level beyond what any man could normally hope to accomplish.”

 

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