Streaking like a comet, the pod burned through the atmosphere until descending enough that the red tail turned a smoky gray. Although piloting was not Maycare’s strongest suit, he was confident that they would land in the general vicinity of Havenville, the planet’s only town. How close, he wasn’t sure, but when it came time to switch on the landing controls, he became less convinced. Instead of the antigrav emitters Maycare was expecting, only the secondary retro-thrusters engaged.
“Coming in a little hot, don’t you think?” Tagus said, his voice rising an octave.
“Hang on!” Maycare replied, pulling the safety straps down across his shoulders.
Through the window, clouds of spores whipped past the commander’s view. The ground, dark and uninviting, was approaching quicker than Maycare would have liked. With all his strength, he pulled back on the control stick, keeping the capsule’s nose as high as possible.
When the pod hit the ground the first time, its shields absorbed most of the impact. By the second time, the shields had failed and Maycare felt his body being thrown against the straps. When the pod hit the third time, Maycare was blissfully unconscious.
Like the tendrils of a vast, winding organism, Mother’s reach extended in all directions of space. Swarms, newly grown, spread across ever expanding regions, devouring whole worlds and those who lived on them. All that was not Mother must perish, whether organic or robotic, consumed by fire and fungi.
And Mother was feeling pretty good about it.
On her ship, Mother received reports from each swarm. In truth, she had no idea just how large the universe was, and it sickened her to know that so much of it was not her. So many lifeforms and machine monstrosities! Mother was determined to wipe them away, purifying an imperfect galaxy. Her children demanded it. She demanded it of herself. It must be done.
Flanked by two warriors, her abdomen engorged with more on the way, Mother clicked her mandibles, the swarm leader before her watching every movement.
<< TELL ME MORE OF THE OUTLINGS >>
The swarm leader, bowing, replied:
<< THEIR BODIES ARE SOFT >>
<< EASILY PIERCED AND BURNED >>
<< AND THEY PRODUCE HIGH PITCHED FREQUENCIES >>
<< AS THEY ARE DYING >>
What odd creatures these are, she thought. Their bodies are so weak and unprotected, yet they manage to reach many worlds. Perhaps their breeding rivals our own? No matter. They will die in droves and their bodies will nourish my children.
Her mouth parts snapped repeatedly:
<< WHAT OF THE METAL ABOMINATIONS? >>
The leader replied:
<< THEY ARE STRANGE >>
<< THOUGH THEY DO NOT LIVE >>
<< THEY MOVE AND WORK LIKE THE OTHERS>>
<< THEY ARE IMMUNE TO OUR SPORES >>
<< BUT NOT TO OUR WEAPONS >>
Good, Mother thought. Of all the impure, the metal creatures are the most disturbing.
She remembered the machine they first brought to her. It smelled of nothing, yet it invaded her domain. Even the dead have a scent, but even in death, this null-thing was inert, undead.
The Klixians had no religion except Mother herself. They prayed to no one, but worshiped her as their god. Even so, Mother wondered what kind of universe could produce beings like the outlings who, in turn, created metal monsters such as these. Only Mother and her children could right such a terrible wrong.
Satisfied that her quest was just, Mother signaled the swarm leader to depart back into the void. Their mission was far from complete. The universe was vast and only they could purify it once and for all.
The planet Lone Haven wasn’t known for forests, but when Robert Maycare woke, the shadows of what appeared to be trees darkened everything around him. The fact that he could see through the gaping hole that was once the roof of his escape pod was also disconcerting.
It took a moment, but Maycare realized these were not trees at all. They were stalks from giant fungi, fifty feet high or more, looming over the pod. Only a few rays of light peered through, piercing the thick, spore-filled air.
Maycare also became aware he was in tremendous pain.
His chest ached and his shoulders felt like someone had tried ripping his arms out of their sockets.
“Look who’s finally awake!” a familiar and unfriendly voice said. Lord Tagus leaned into Maycare’s line of vision. “Nice of you to join us.”
Maycare reached for his holster but found it empty.
“Looking for this?” Tagus asked, raising the blaster.
“Yeah,” the commander groaned.
“Well, you needn’t worry,” Tagus replied, casting the weapon away. “It’s thoroughly destroyed. Not even Lieutenant Burke could fix it.”
“Sorry,” Burke said, remaining just out of view.
Maycare hit the release for his restraints but instantly regretted it. A shaft a pain ran through his ribs.
Groaning, he slipped out of the straps and began removing his space helmet.
“Idiot!” Tagus shouted. “Take that off and you’ll suck in enough spores to kill you!”
Maycare stopped. He noticed both Tagus and Burke had remained fully buttoned up in their suits.
“Of course,” Tagus went on, “once the power supply in our suits runs out, we’ll all be dead anyway.”
With effort, the commander pulled himself from his chair and stood, gingerly holding his side.
“I think some of my ribs are broken,” he said.
Burke stepped forward with the medkit and injected a painkiller directly through the suit, the self-sealing skin plugging the hole immediately.
“Thanks,” Maycare said.
“Your ribs are the least of our worries,” Tagus growled. “The escape pod is destroyed, and we can’t activate the distress beacon without alerting those damn bugs. We’re stuck on this godforsaken planet until our suits give out and we die!”
“I can see why your men found you so inspirational,” Maycare remarked.
“How dare you!” Tagus shouted. “They would’ve followed me to hell and back!”
“I doubt it,” Maycare replied.
Tagus made a move toward the commander, but perhaps thought better of it. Any damage to the suits could be fatal.
Ignoring him, Maycare left the pod and took a closer look at the forest of fungi surrounding them. Each stalk was a few feet in diameter, but instead of a hard bark, the skin was soft. He could push against the tree and feel it bowing slightly. With a little more exertion, Maycare thought he could bend the entire stalk.
Tagus and Burke joined him outside the pod.
“Perhaps we could lash a few of these together and make a raft,” Tagus said sardonically. “We could row our way back to the Fleet!”
Maycare glared back at him.
“Good idea,” he replied, “or we could just steal one of those...”
He pointed through a gap in the fungus canopy at a tall pillar in the distance. At the top, small ships, like the kind that had attacked the Baron Lancaster, flew in and out of the structure.
On Lord Maycare’s estate, down the hall from the family library, Jessica Doric had commandeered one of the rooms and turned it into her office. Unlike the cramped confines of the Abbot’s office, Doric’s had enough space for several people, even though Henry Riff and occasionally Benson were the only visitors on most days.
Henry had brought a supply of TeeHee Tea from home as a remedy to the stress of current events. He and Doric sipped from their cups beside a table where the ancient Dahlvish relic sat prominently. They had started calling it the beacon.
“I love this stuff,” Henry remarked, savoring the tea.
Doric, focusing on the relic, remained silent.
“I’d be freaking out right now if it wasn’t for this,” Henry went on.
“What?” Doric replied absentmindedly.
“The tea,” he said, raising his cup.
“Uh huh.”
“Are you alright?�
�
Doric sighed. “I wish I understood how it worked.”
“I think it’s medicated...”
She looked at Henry, her eyes addressing him as if he had just entered the room. “I’m talking about the beacon!”
“Oh!” he replied.
“I mean,” she said, returning her gaze to the artifact, “the Abbot told us how it works but I don’t understand how it works. You know what I mean?”
“Definitely,” Henry replied, definitely lying.
“We need someone with psionic powers to test it.”
“Do we know anyone with psionic powers?” Henry asked.
“Well, the Abbot of course, but he didn’t seem interested. After what the Naiad said, the Abbot thought it was too dangerous.”
“At least he let us keep it.”
“Well, I don’t think he had a choice,” Doric replied. “It’s Lord Maycare’s now. The Dahl have no authority...”
As if summoned, Lord Devlin Maycare appeared in the office doorway. Deep creases ran along his forehead.
“Did you talk to your sister?” Doric asked.
Maycare nodded.
“Yes,” he replied. “She says there’s no word from my nephew, Robert. The Fleet says he’s missing and presumed dead.”
“Why would they say that?” Henry asked.
“They recovered all the other lifeboats,” Maycare said, “but there’s no sign of Bobby.”
Doric set her cup beside the beacon. “Aren’t they going to send out a search party?”
“They can’t,” Maycare replied. “The whole area’s swarming with those creatures. The Fleet had to retreat.”
Henry, feeling his nerves rattled, took another sip of tea.
“What about the beacon?” he suggested after a pause.
“What about it?” Doric asked.
“Maybe we could use it to contact your nephew?”
Maycare gave the artifact a skeptical glance. “How?”
Henry could only shrug.
“We need to find someone with strong enough psi powers,” Doric said, “and someone actually willing to help.” She turned to Maycare. “Do you know anyone?”
Maycare thought a moment but frowned. “No.”
Trudging through the fungus forest, still wearing their heavy space suits, Robert Maycare and the others found the going slow and exhausting. The commander was unsure how far the alien tower had been, but they had spent days among the thick stalks. At least the occasional Klixian ship flying overhead indicated the humans were still traveling in the right direction.
“This is pointless,” Tagus muttered, stopping to catch his breath.
“Do you have a better idea?” Maycare asked.
“We should be hiding, not seeking out our doom.”
“You said yourself,” Maycare replied, “these suits won’t last forever. Once the power runs out, we’re dead.”
Tagus moved in front of the commander, their face plates nearly touching.
“We have no weapons!” Tagus said. “Forcing our way into that tower is suicide!”
Burke, who had remained silent until that point, spoke up. “We might be able to sneak in...”
“So, now you’re taking his side?” Tagus asked accusingly.
“No,” Burke replied, “but we don’t know how well it’s defended. They might not be expecting anyone alive down here.”
Maycare raised an eyebrow and gave a smug smile. “I guess we’ll just have to see when we get there.”
Tagus, for his part, scowled before continuing the journey in silence.
The three took turns taking the lead. Although each fungal tree was pliable and moved to one side when pressed against, the stems were spaced closely together. Maycare would have paid a month’s salary for a machete or even a plasma torch to burn their way through.
From time to time, they also came upon the former inhabitants of Lone Haven, or whatever was left of them. Spores grew from the bodies and, in some cases, an entire tree rose from the chest of a colonist. It was horrifying.
“All these people,” Burke remarked at one point. “What a terrible way to die.”
“I suggest we focus more on ourselves,” Tagus said.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the commander shot back. “When’s the last time you gave a damn about anybody else?”
“Don’t be a child,” Tagus replied. “I have one life and I’m determined to preserve it. You can waste yours on someone else if you wish.”
“You may have warned us about these creatures,” Maycare said, “but I’d still like to see you in front of a firing squad.”
“How touching,” Tagus said. “Even so, I doubt you’ll get the chance. It’s far more likely we’re all going to die on this miserable planet, and I doubt anyone even knows we’re here.”
“We still have a chance,” Burke suggested. “There’s always hope.”
“Hope is the last gasp of fools,” Tagus replied. “Your eternal optimism won’t save anyone. If we have any chance at all, it’s because we clawed our way through the corpses of our enemies. Luck favors the bold.”
“Well,” Maycare admitted, “all the more reason to keep heading toward that tower.”
Tagus, pausing in search of a counterargument, found himself with no other alternative but to agree.
“Indeed,” he said.
His wings flapping rapidly, the swarm leader descended through the spore cloud, followed by a handful of other Klixians, to get a better look at the surface. The former inhabitants of the planet were now dead, but a few mechanical outlings still remained.
Pheromones from Mother still resonated in the leader’s antennae, driving him forward. He didn’t question her orders and even the concept of dissent was alien to him. How could you disagree with yourself? The brain orders the wings to move and so they fly. What else would they do? It was simple logic...
He emerged from the cloud, forests of fungi appearing below, the tops of their stalks gently swaying in the breeze. They were like fingers pointing skyward, a show of hands sprouting from the fertile ground. They were all Mother, each part of a greater whole. No part was out of place and everything was good.
Except for one thing.
A hundred or more fungal trees lay flattened in a narrow band, ending in a blackened blemish of silvery metal. The swarm leader took a pass over the oddity. The object was too big to be one of the mechanical beings. It was a craft, fallen from the sky and perhaps beyond. Survivors from the space battle?
The swarm leader and a handful of other Klixians landed. His subordinates chattered nervously, but the leader quieted them. He poked the side of the ship with his weapon, the rod-shaped staff making a tinny sound against the hull.
Such a peculiar noise, the leader thought. So different than anything the Klixians would produce.
He leapt onto the roof, peering down into the torn, metal skin. He saw nothing of the usual outlings. No broken bodies or limbs strewn around the inside of the craft. However, something must have brought this ship to the surface. Where did they go?
The leader took off again, circling the crash site. The scar of the landing, stretching off into the distance, was obvious, but there was something more. In a different direction, some of the trees were also disturbed, bent to one side like a beast had thrashed its body between the stalks. Returning to the ground, the leader recognized the impressions in the dirt. They were the tracks of three outlings, their bipedal footprints unmistakable.
The swarm leader didn’t know how these creatures could have survived without succumbing to the spores, but no matter. They could only flee the inevitable for so long.
Motioning quickly with his mandibles, the leader gave orders to his subordinates:
<< THE OUTLINGS MUST BE FOUND! >>
<< TAKE FLIGHT AND SEARCH FROM ABOVE >>
<< DISPATCH ONE OF THE WARRIORS >>
<< TO SEARCH ON THE GROUND... >>
After another day, Harold Burke and the others f
inally cleared the fungal forest and found themselves nearly at the base of the Klixian tower. Burke was thankful, taking a sip from the straw within his space suit that had provided him liquid nutrients for nearly a week. However, even within his sealed helmet, he was keenly aware of the odor his own waste was exuding. The built-in adult diaper he was wearing was nearing its limit.
An open space stretched between them and the tower. The three humans had not gone far across it before Commander Maycare’s voice boomed over the comm.
“Behind us!” he shouted.
Burke turned to see an enormous insectoid bursting from the forest, its giant mandibles snapping as it approached. Much larger than the flying swarmers, the Klixian warrior had no wings but instead a second pair of arms protruding from its carapace. In one pair of arms it held a long staff which fired beams of light toward the humans.
Burke threw himself to the ground as the rays passed overhead and slammed into the side of the tower. To his right, Tagus lay beside him, but Maycare was already sprinting toward the Klixian, dodging from side to side.
“Idiot,” Tagus said over his mic.
Without thinking, Burke found himself getting back to his feet and running after the commander. Tagus’ voice came again through Burke’s earpiece. “Don’t be a fool!”
Burke ignored his former captain, clumsily charging forward in his heavy boots. By the time he reached Maycare, Burke heaved each breath from his burning lungs.
Maycare threw himself at the Klixian, grappling for the weapon. The insectoid’s mandibles clamped down on the commander’s helmet, tossing Maycare’s head from side to side, but failing to actually pierce the suit.
Although exhausted, Burke reached the melee and lunged toward the Klixian’s legs, hoping to knock the creature down. Instead, the insect merely flicked him aside. Burke rolled and regained his footing, determined to try again. This time, he aimed the crown of his helmet at the creature’s leg joint which crumpled under the impact. Taking Maycare with it, the creature fell atop Burke, pinning him beneath the heavy exoskeleton.
Imperium Chronicles Box Set Page 79