Mechs vs. Dinosaurs (Argonauts Book 8)

by Isaac Hooke

  Rade noticed that the lower portion of the arch seemed to shimmer slightly, as if it wasn’t completely real.

  “Hm,” Manic said. “Looks like a false wall, or another airlock membrane. Am I supposed to walk inside?”

  “If you can,” Rade said.

  Manic raised a tentative hand and touched the surface. His mech’s fingers passed clean through without resistance, vanishing.

  Manic glanced at the others, then stepped through entirely, disappearing from view.

  “I’m in,” Manic said, his voice breaking with the familiar distortion.

  The pods of the escort remained in place, watching, waiting.

  Guarding.

  “Let’s see what these aliens want with us and our dinosaurs,” Rade said, advancing.

  He emerged into the tube-shaped interior of the giant arch.

  Behind him, the others stepped through the membrane in turn,

  “These walls are too steep to climb,” Tahoe said. “We’ll have to use our jumpjets.”

  Rade waited until the whole team had passed inside, and he was about to give the order to jet upward when the floor began to rise.

  “Well I’ll be,” Bender said. “A grav elevator. Sweet doggy! How’s that for convenience. These are some courteous glow bugs.”

  “You think they’re courteous now,” Lui said. “Wait until their robot pets bite you.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, more than you know,” Bender said.

  The circular disk that held the party continued to rise, stopping as it neared the apex of the arch. Ahead, a hole led through the metal and into the yellow-orange cocoon Rade had seen from below.

  “Um,” TJ said.

  “Harlequin, check it out,” Rade said.

  “That’s right, the expendable AI goes first,” Bender said. “As it should be.”

  Harlequin ignored the comment and stepped through the hole. His feet seemed to sink slightly, but the gelatinous substance held him. “It seems clear.”

  Harlequin continued walking his mech deeper inside.

  Rade followed, as did the rest of the party. It felt a little like he was treading on the spongy ground of the jungle, given the way his Hoplite sunk with each step.

  The cylindrical structure was slightly translucent, allowing Rade to peer at the city beyond. But it was otherwise empty.

  Rade heard a sickening suction sound, then the ceiling directly above spread apart and a dark shape dropped down.

  Rade instinctively raised his hands but managed to resist the urge to swivel a cobra into place.

  The shape abruptly lit up, becoming blinding. Rade’s photochromatic filter kicked in, reducing the brightness so that he could actually make out the shape. It stood the same height as his Hoplite, and reminded him of the insect-like robots he had seen outside: bifurcated mandible, folded forelimbs, four segmented appendages with spikes on the joints, horned plates lining the head, thorax and abdomen. Unlike the robots, it had a long tail, evidently prehensile, given that it was holding a gray cylinder of some kind in the appendage.

  “What is that?” Fret said. “A weapon?”

  With its forelimbs, the alien unfolded the device, which had three telescoping limbs on the bottom that allowed it to function as a tripod. The entity carefully balanced the cylinder on the gelatinous floor, and a moment later a holographically generated keyboard appeared. Each key was the size of a human hand, and possessed a unique English letter.

  “The hell is this?” Bender said. “Glow bug gots a hologram keyboard with English characters? Sixty-five million years before English was even invented?”

  The alien repeatedly set its bright foot down, touching different holographic keys, “typing” out characters. The entity hit the “back” key when it made a mistake. As Rade watched, a string of characters formed floating words above the device, courtesy of another holographic projector at the top of the cylinder.

  “Uh,” Bender said.

  You should not be here, the completed text read.

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  And you should not know English,” Rade said. “Nor even have that holographic generator.”

  The alien pressed “clear,” causing the text to vanish; then it beckoned toward the remaining holographic keys.

  “Harlequin, get out of your mech and type what I just said,” Rade ordered.

  Harlequin’s cockpit popped open and the Artificial emerged in his jumpsuit. He proceeded to type the response by leaping rapidly from key to key; he moved so fast his body was a blur. When finished, Harlequin stepped aside.

  The Elder typed a reply.

  Ordinarily we communicate telepathically, the Elder wrote. But your minds are not compatible with this means of communication. The one you name Surus came to me four of your years ago. She spent twenty-four months teaching me your written language. Surus calls me Bright One. You may, too. I am a scientist.

  “Well, I guess I know what I’m doing for the next two years after we return to the present,” Surus said.

  “Assuming we return,” Fret said.

  “We have to,” Lui said. “Otherwise Surus wouldn’t have been able to deliver the message.”

  “No,” Fret said. “It only means that Surus returns. And not necessarily the rest of us.”

  “At least now we know who spilled the beans regarding our weapon systems,” Manic said.

  “Yes,” Surus said. “But to my credit, I didn’t tell Bright One about the laser rifles we’ve kept hidden in our storage compartments.”

  “Bright One?” Bender said. “What were you thinking, Surus my girl? That’s the most ridiculous name you could have come up with.”

  “Well, you have to admit,” TJ said. “The alien is kind of bright. Blindingly so.”

  “Still ridiculous,” Bender said.

  “Harlequin, ask him if his people are truly the Elder,” Rade said. “Those who created the Slipstreams in this region of space.”

  Yes, we are the Elder. We created the Slipstreams to make travel between stars more convenient for our kind.

  “And how about those machines we saw in the city?” Rade said. “Are they sentient?”

  They are more than sentient. We have advanced to such a degree that we have the ability to move our consciousnesses into artificial networks. These networks are stationed in a nexus that forms what you would call the AI core of our starship. Some of us have chosen to inject our consciousnesses into the nexus. These individuals can move in and out of the different robots you have seen aboard, allowing them to experience corporeal form when desired, and to access the higher states of consciousness when physical bodies prove unnecessary.

  “Harley boy, ask the dude why they are collecting dinosaurs,” Bender said. “And if I can get a baby T-Rex as a pet.”

  You cannot have any of them.

  “Harlequin, ask again why they’re collecting dinosaurs,” Rade said. “I’d like to know.”

  We have been visiting Earth for hundreds of thousands of years. During our most recent arrival, we determined that a fifteen-kilometer asteroid was on a collision course with the planet. When it arrives, the impact will release the same amount of energy as one hundred teratonnes of TNT, or over a billion times the energy of your early atomic bombs, based on what Surus has related to me. In addition to sparking localized firestorms, the blast will send large parts of the impact zone into space, and as the resultant ejecta reenter the atmosphere, the fragments will emit intense pulses of infrared radiation, cooking exposed lifeforms. A dust cloud will envelope the planet, blocking sunlight for years to come, restricting photosynthesis and killing most plants and the organisms reliant on them. The oceans will acidify, thanks to acid rain caused by vaporized sulfur carbonate; the acid will linger in the atmosphere, further causing global temperatures to plummet. It is an extinction level event.

  This is why we collect the dinosaurs. We are the great catalogers and preservers of life. We save as many endangered species as we are able throughout the galaxy. I
t is our duty. When we see creatures of such great beauty, those created by the randomness of natural selection, the order in the chaos, we cannot help but save a few of them for the sake of posterity.

  “This ship is an ark, then,” Lui said.

  “That’s exactly what it is,” Rade replied.

  “I should have put two and two together,” Lui said. “We’ve traveled sixty-five million years into the past. That’s when the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event occurred, wiping out the dinosaurs.”

  “Harlequin, ask him how long we have until the impact?” Rade said.

  The asteroid will impact in eight hours.

  “Eight hours!” Manic said. “These aliens are sure cutting it close. Collecting dinosaurs down to the wire.”

  “I’m suddenly very glad that we decided not to stay here for more than six hours,” Fret said. “Can you imagine what would have happened if we had set the recall time to twenty-four hours or something?”

  “I’m sure the Elder have the ability to stop the impact,” TJ said. “That’s something even a few United System battlecruisers could handle. Easily. A few tow ropes and you’re done. Harlequin, ask the alien why the Elder haven’t diverted the asteroid, if they value life so greatly.”

  We believe in non-interference. It is our rule that all planets, and the life upon them, must develop naturally. If that means allowing an asteroid to strike a populated world, then so be it.

  “It is perhaps a cruel stance,” Surus said. “But if the Elder prevented that asteroid from striking, humanity would have never evolved. So in a sense, the Elder are the progenitors of the human race, merely because they didn’t intervene when they could have.”

  “And I’m guessing that somehow the Phant we’re hunting changed that,” Rade said. “Harlequin, ask it if Surus, in her earlier visit, told him about the impending Phant threat?”

  Surus did warn us, yes. Using her as our subject, we were able to modify our sensors to detect those of her kind. When the Phant comes again, we will know. We have also shielded the equivalent of our AI core. Your timeline is safe.

  Rade tapped his lips. “Your Phant-detection sensors haven’t gone off yet, then?”

  No.

  Rade glanced at Surus’ mech. “The Phant should have reached the ship by now. You saw how fast it moved earlier in its natural state...”

  “Phants are always slowed down when they elect to move stealthily,” Surus said. “If our prey was trying to make its way here just below the surface of the ground, for example, it’s speed would be reduced by half.”

  “But it still should have beat us,” Rade said.

  “Perhaps.”

  Would you like to see what happens to the dinosaurs once they enter our ship?

  The glowing alien led the Hoplites to the side of the gelatinous structure. The wall abruptly became clear, showing the bulkhead the building abutted against. A moment later the bulkhead became translucent as well, and the team overlooked a wide savanna. Rade saw dinosaurs roaming the plains all the way to the horizon.

  “Is that aboard this ship?” Tahoe asked, the awe evident in his voice.

  Yes. We have meticulously recreated their natural environments aboard. We’ve segregated the dinosaurs into five different compartments, the environments of each optimized for the needs of the different species we’ve gathered.

  The view switched, and Rade realized he wasn’t looking directly into the next compartment after all, but rather at a video feed. The view had been replaced with the tops of trees. Different winged pterosaurs lounged in nests upon leathery eggs that became visible when the dinosaurs shifted positions. The pterosaurs were covered in what could best be described as proto-feathers—long, stiff bristles. Their wings were made of a thin, leathery membrane that connected the tips of their thin forelimbs to their bodies, more akin to bats than birds.

  The view updated once more, and Rade was looking down into a forest. A bloody trail of fresh Utahraptor corpses winded through the tall trees, ending before a rather large T-Rex covered in a dark red and black plumage. The feathers around its lower legs and jaws were stiff—steeped in blood.

  It was the biggest T-Rex Rade had ever seen, about twice as big as the bull he had encountered previously. It held a living Utahraptor pinned underneath the talons of its right leg. The thing squirmed wildly, but the T-Rex made no move to end its existence.

  “Look at that,” Bender said. “Big Bird has got itself a mouse.”

  Bright One typed out a new sentence: This one is a killer.

  “They’re all killers,” Rade said.

  The T-Rex lifted its leg, releasing the Utahraptor. The wounded dinosaur attempted to limp away as quickly as it could, its feathers ruffled and blood-soaked, but then the T-Rex slammed its foot down on the prey once more.

  Rade was reminded of a cat toying with a mouse, like Bender said.

  No, she is special, the Elder wrote. You see that trail of Dromaeosaurids behind her? They are uneaten. Decomposing. She kills for sport.

  Apparently growing bored, the T-Rex abruptly bent down and bit the head off the Utahraptor. It chewed nonchalantly, its expression momentarily seeming to turn sour as if it tasted something it didn’t like.

  “What’s that, is it taking a leak?” Lui said. “Eww.”

  Rade saw a long stream of dark liquid coursing down the inside of the T-Rex’s back leg, darkening the feathers there.

  “I’m going to call her Betsy,” Bender said.

  “Did you know that the largest Tyrannosaurus Rex ever discovered was named Sue?” Harlequin said.

  “Harley boy, as usual your comments aren’t welcome, and have nothing to do with what I just said,” Bender replied. “How about you go admire your pussy or something.”

  “If’s she’s a killer, why do you keep her?” Lui said. “Harlequin, ask.”

  To study her. She is an important specimen. We believe she represents the next step in tyrannosaur evolution. She shuns the herd mentality of others of her kind, and demonstrates an intelligence leaps and bounds above the rest of her species. Unfortunately, her violent tendencies require us to contain her in a special habitat all to herself.

  A ghostly wail sounded, rapidly changing in pitch. It was obviously an alarm of some kind.

  The wall of the gelatinous structure became opaque once more, eliminating the window into the onboard dinosaur environment.

  “Sounds like an intruder alarm,” Lui commented as the klaxon continued.

  “That’s exactly what it is,” Rade said. “Our Phant must have finally arrived.”

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  Rade turned toward the Elder. “Harlequin, translate: what’s going on? Have they detected the Phant?”

  The Elder cocked its head, then quickly tapped out a message on the big keyboard.

  No. That is the launch warning klaxon. The ramp is closing and our vessel is taking to the air. This is slightly odd. We weren’t supposed to leave for a few more hours.

  “What about us?” Rade asked. “We have to get back to the surface or we’ll be stuck here forever.”

  There are lifepods you can use. Your mechs will fit.

  The deck shifted suddenly and Rade momentarily lost his balance.

  “What was that?” Tahoe said.

  The ship switched over to artificial gravity.

  “We’re in orbit already?” Fret said. “Uh...”

  “Take us to these lifepods,” Rade said. “Quickly.”

  Bright One escorted the Hoplites through the yellow-orange cocoon to the hole in the far side, and the group entered the metal portion of the building that composed the outer arch. When all of the mechs were on the disk of the grav elevator, it proceeded downward.

  At the bottom, the party passed through the shimmering false wall, and emerged into the vast city compartment.

  Harlequin had remained outside of his Hoplite; Bright One handed the Artificial the hologram-generating device and then the alien entered a waiting pod. The translucent cock
pit sealed, and the pod moved upward, hovering, its different sized tentacles trailing underneath.

  Harlequin had tinkered with the hologram device, folding it up: apparently he had managed to reduce the keyboard layout to the size of his arm. He typed a question with the fingers of one hand while he held the device in the other arm. Can you still communicate with us?

  Holographic text appeared above the pod. I have the equivalent of a holographic generator installed in my craft. This way.

  The pod moved rapidly across those streets, and the mechs followed. Harlequin remained on foot beside his Hoplite so that he could use the generator as needed. The original four pods accompanied the party as well.

  The Hoplites wended through the streets that resided between the arches, approaching the far side of the compartment. That was when Rade noticed the pterosaurs flying overhead. Their flight was stilted, as if the beasts were struggling.

  “Uh, are those supposed to be there?” Fret said.

  “No,” Rade said.

  The pterosaurs abruptly crashed to the ground, obviously succumbing to the unbreathable atmosphere.

  Rade heard a squawk, followed by a roar, and saw a large Tyrannosaur standing next to the bulkhead. Another T-Rex emerged straight through the metal: it was obviously one of those airlock membranes.

  “Who let the dogs out?” Bender said.

  The four escorting pods abruptly swerved to the west, heading directly toward the feathered dinosaurs.

  The T-Rexes advanced for half a block, and then collapsed where they stood before the pods even reached them.

  A continual trickle of dinosaurs emerged from the bulkhead. There were of all types, from Dromaeosaurs to Orodromeuses.

  Text appeared above Bright One’s pod.

  The containment fields between the separate environments have failed. The different groups of dinosaurs are intermixing, and something is driving them out... I must take you to our equivalent of your lifepods quickly, and then assist the others before all of the dinosaurs leave their protective habitats and die.