Kaboom!
The entire checkpoint erupted in sparks. For a moment her view of the corridor was obscured by smoke. She moved cautiously forward.
A tall shadow formed in the smoke. Siobhan halted. The shadow resolved into a large robot. Her blood ran cold. It was the same one she had narrowly avoided outside. Or at least the same model. It headed right for her.
The gray metal armor gleamed. The edges of its head, shoulders, and feet were trimmed in red. It hovered just over the floor. Siobhan shivered as the barrels of its weapons swept over her. As long as those red eyes scanned back and forth, she did not dare move.
Siobhan heard a periodic hiss of air. She looked at the machine. She saw air slits in its chest.
Is it breathing? Or sniffing? One thing’s for sure: it’s searching for me.
Siobhan retreated down the hall. The thing did not shoot at her. At least for now, it had not spotted her.
Screw the plan. Who am I kidding? I’m going in after the bastard and I’ll be damned if any frackjammin robot is going to stop me.
Siobhan reversed course. She walked toward it. She felt the familiar thrill of danger hit her system. Some part of her knew what she was doing was not smart, that she was out of control. Those thoughts were not allowed to surface. Instead, she reveled in the adrenal hit.
Her Vovokan weapon came up and started shooting mech rounds. She listened watched the magazine count drop in her PV as she ran toward it as if in slow motion: 31, 30, 29…
Boom, boom, boom.
Shrapnel engulfed the robot. Siobhan saw scratches appear in the armor. The rounds were not hitting it, but the flying debris were. The walls around the robot were shredded. Somewhere to her right a water pipe burst and added its spray to the chaos.
Any closer and I’m going to get a face full of shrapnel myself.
The machine returned fire down the hallway. The entire corridor erupted as if it had been filled with explosives. Siobhan dropped to the floor. She felt debris striking her suit. The floor beneath her shook. Her suit reported no serious damage. The machine had not hit her directly.
She tried to stitch rounds at the robot’s legs from a prone firing position.
28, 27, 26, 25…
Brroom, boom, boom, boom.
Dammit Shiny, you said this hi tech noise was supposed to work…
Siobhan stopped shooting as she lost track of the target in thick smoke. The black cloud flowed down the hallway and engulfed her. She breathed from her suit’s reserve. She waited for the robot to reappear. She lay utterly still for long seconds with nothing but sooty ash flurrying in front of her face mask. Finally, it started to clear. Then she saw it. One meter directly above her.
She pointed her weapon and told it to fire again.
Krumpf!
The machine exploded above her. Siobhan felt a sharp pain. For a moment she languished, blind and hurt. A piece of the machine fell, pinning her legs. Her faceplate was damaged. She took a deep breath from the oxygen reserve and lifted the visor to take a peek.
She looked down at herself. Instead of the outline of her body supplied by the suit when she was invisible, she saw her damaged stealth suit in plain sight. It was not working. A piece of metal stuck out of her chest, oozing blood.
Frackjammers.
Chapter 19
“I need ideas. Crazy ones,” Sager demanded.
Ten of his officers had assembled incarnate to decide on a plan of action. Sager was insistent upon that point—action—and they were running out of time.
“They might be listening to us,” Officer Claren noted. Claren was in charge of the powerful weapons of the Bismarck, now held in a state of power starvation by the aliens using means unknown.
“Fight or escape?” Sager said.
“Escape,” Claren said.
Narron nodded. “We can’t see them. We can’t power up weapons past a small fraction of power. Presumably the enemy has point defenses and enough power to destroy us in one alpha strike. A surprise escape is our best hope.”
“We have the Marco Polo,” Officer Jackson said. She spoke quietly, but Sager knew from experience she had ideas worth listening to.
“What can we do with it?” Narron said.
“We could blow it up. Use it for a distraction,” someone said.
“Maybe the explosion energy or debris could help us detect the enemy ships.”
“We could escape on it. Use a diversion here,” an officer added.
“We can’t give up this ship, it’s the newest battleship we have!” another officer said.
“What kind of diversions can we make?” Sager asked. “The energy rings on the gravity spinner and the weapons won’t charge up past ten percent power.”
“We could turn our power off.”
“We could blow up our drive. Not really. Just start the process. Tell them we’re killing ourselves. Then do something else.”
“We could feign an emergency and get them to let the power through.”
“An emergency doesn’t require the spinner or the weapons.”
“The Marco Polo has a gravity spinner, too,” Jackson said. “It could be used on Bismarck.”
“It has the same power limitations,” Narron said.
“Okay, this is workable,” a drive engineer named Tell said. “We can pretend we want to blow ourselves up as someone mentioned. We’ll go to maximum power output, as we did when we were testing this trap earlier. Both ships at once. We’ll get all the rings on both ships up to ten percent. At the last moment, we reroute all the rings, on the weapons and the gravity spinner, into the gravity spinners on both ships. The Marco Polo won’t try to translate itself. Its gravity spinner will focus on Bismarck as Jackson suggested. Both gravity spinners and all the rings might get us to thirty percent of normal jump power. But once we’ve jumped away, we should be able to get all our power to the spinner and jump again immediately.”
Sager nodded. “Raigel. What do you think of our chances with that plan?”
“Hard to calculate,” the cold voice responded. “Perhaps ten percent.”
Sager actually felt happy. He had not heard Raigel give any plan more than a one percent chance since they had been captured.
“Tell our captors we have new demands,” Sager ordered. “We must be released now, or else we’re going to scuttle both ships. Tell, get the sequence for both jumps together. Everyone, get the rings ready to reroute. You have to get it right, no testing. I don’t want to tip our hand by sending any power down unusual routes until we make our attempt.”
***
Caden had just about given up. There was not much more action he would be seeing from the inside of the holding room, and it did not look like he would be released anytime soon.
Suddenly the floor shuddered. The interrogator cursed.
“What’s that?” Caden asked. His link was isolated. It told him nothing.
“The attack has reached us,” the man said. “Haven’t you been listening? Sol System is under assault.”
“The attack on the outer system is just a diversion,” Caden said. “No one is really being hurt. Just cut off. Those transmissions aren’t real. It’s all manufactured.”
Yet Caden doubted himself.
Sol System is under assault. I thought I would never hear such terrible words.
“You’re delusional,” his interrogator said. His eyes unfocused.
“If those spheres make it in here, I’m going to make sure they find you dead.”
Caden’s eyes grew wide. “What spheres? You’ll shoot me? I’m on your side! Are you talking about the little gray spheres that came with me? They’re harmless. I used them to find—”
Caden got a pointer. He tried to connect to Cilreth. His link was still isolated. He could only access what Bailey wanted him to see.
An image feed opened in his mind’s eye. A spherical Vovokan assault drone the size of a land car flew through a shuttle bay. Its shields glowed in two or three spots. Caden assumed
it was getting hit by high frequency lasers invisible to his eyes. As he watched the drone traded fire with a military robot and a handful of Space Force marines. The sphere dodged two missiles, then reduced its opponents to ash.
“It’s not just here. Even the Bismarck is missing in action,” Bailey said in dismay.
“No! No… that’s not the plan. This is all wrong.”
The Vovokan drone in Caden’s PV burned through a bulkhead and melted two more robots in its way. Bailey looked at Caden. He was suddenly very sad. “Maybe you believe that, son. You’ve been used by aliens. You probably never had a chance to see the truth, until now.”
Could this all be an act? He’s kind of showing a lot of dismay for someone conducting an interrogation. You’re supposed to keep your cool, demonstrate dominance and control. I believe him… they gave me drugs, though. I can’t trust anything. It’s social engineering.
“Oh no… no,” Bailey said.
Could it get worse?
“What?” Caden asked.
“Skyhold. The aliens have destroyed it.”
Telisa!
“Look, this is crazy, but, I came to take out one kind of alien, but these battle spheres are from another alien. It was supposed to be on our side.” Caden dropped his head. He had failed the Space Force, failed his parents, failed all of Earth.
How could this happen? I wanted to be a hero. Now I’m what… the biggest traitor in history?
“Where is this alien? We have to kill it,” Bailey said.
A trick? Maybe. What difference does it make? They can’t hurt Shiny.
“It’s on a huge spaceship the size of Space Force Command. An advanced space ship. We have no hope without Cilreth.”
“Who?”
Caden perked up. “Cilreth! A friend of mine… she has control of one of the ships! If we can contact her, we might be able to get her to help us.”
Bailey watched the spheres burn through a hardpoint. Sweat ran down his face.
“Talk to whoever you want,” Bailey said. “It’s over.”
“Cilreth!” Caden sent out. “Cilreth!”
There was no answer.
Caden contacted his attendants. The machines responded. They had escaped when Caden was captured. They reported all three suspected Trilisks had been killed. They verified that SFC was under attack, but they could not communicate with the larger Trilisk arsenal attacking the station. Caden recalled them.
I may need them just to survive. If they don’t turn on me.
Bailey opened the door to the room and left. He left the door wide open.
Could this be a virtual trick? Caden thought. The Space Force probably has the ability to override people’s links. This isn’t real. Right. So I should not be giving away secrets. My link is probably showing them how to talk to the Vovokan attendants, if nothing else.
Caden left the room. He was in some kind of security station. The first of his attendants flitted toward him. He reached for a weapon that was not there at his belt. A huge amount of noise came to this link as he re-accessed Space Force Command.
“Abandon ship. Abandon ship. Follow your shuttle evac lines.”
“There’s one coming for Central Security!” a soldier transmitted.
“We have two lasers and five Tiger Twelves. We can’t stop it.”
More vibrations came through the station. This time the rumbling did not stop.
“Aigis isn’t replying! Aigis is offline!”
Central Security… that’s where I am now!
Caden swallowed hard. A bright red line flickered in his mind’s eye, directing him to the nearest evac bay. The deck shook again, violently. Gravity cut out from under him.
Caden reacted. There would be enough time to wonder later. He brought tucked his knees up, then pushed off as he spun into line with the corridor with his red escape line.
Is this real?
Thoughts of what was happening and his part in it submerged as Caden fought to survive.
Chapter 20
The attendants circling Imanol gave warning. Multiple Trilisk signatures had been detected within the vicinity of the eerie temple, including the man before him.
The man gasped. He stood shakily. The man looked extremely thin, almost skeletal. His face was gaunt and sunken. Then he screamed several unfamiliar words hoarsely. The man snatched up his spear and shield.
Imanol could not catch the meaning. His link provided a translation: “The portal! The way is open!”
“Oh no you don’t, incomalcon,” Imanol said, backing up and drawing two pistols. Imanol shot as the ancient being before him threw its spear. Imanol tried to dodge, but the throw was well aimed. Imanol’s Veer suit deflected the projectile. The man fell at the same time as his spear. Blood poured from the wound caused by a projectile impact.
“That was hardly a superhuman attack,” Imanol said aloud. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Imanol charged up the stairs, weapons ready. He held his laser pistol in his right hand and a projectile pistol in his left. The dark surfaces of the temple made the shadows tricky. He slowed at the top, trying to discern the niches of the architecture. He decided nothing lurked within his vision.
Inside the temple, Imanol saw more columns, but these were different. Tubes and lights were scattered across their upper quarter. They looked like taller versions of the other Trilisk columns, the ones they had used to duplicate themselves. Imanol checked his flanks. He saw another man in ancient garb advancing on him from the left with a chipped sword. At the same time, he heard a noise behind him.
Imanol ran toward the enemy he could see and shot him with his slug pistol. Then he spun, putting his back toward a Trilisk column. Two more unhealthy-looking men advanced. They held spears and one had a shield.
One yelled something. “Kill him!” his link translated.
Imanol tried to shoot both at once. Thanks to the enhanced targeting of his smart weapons, he was able to hit both of them simultaneously. One of the spears came toward him, but this time an attendant deflected it. The men fell to the ground. One of them moaned.
Imanol walked over to the one he knew was still alive.
“How long? How long have you been here?” he demanded.
The man stared ahead but Imanol could not tell if he saw anything. Imanol’s attendants emitted a translation of Imanol’s question. Blood poured out of the chest of his fallen attacker.
The man uttered something, then weakly coughed up more blood.
Imanol’s link provided a translation, labeled at 85% likely: “Forever”.
This is insane. If they want out, why don’t they just run for it?
Imanol saw a long table on the other side of a black dais set between several columns at the center of the temple.
It was clearly a dining table. The plates were empty. Given the state of the men that had attacked him, Imanol did not find that surprising. The number of bones everywhere made him suspect cannibalism.
So their base down here shuts down, they run out of food… and they start eating each other. But it’s been thousands of years… unless the Trilisk bodies are a hell of a lot tougher than I thought.
Imanol had the impression that the super-bodies needed more calories, not less.
It’s so dark in here. The walls absorb my light. I wish I could see better, he thought.
The illumination in the temple rose feebly.
Imanol did a double-take. I want it darker.
The light receded. Imanol was plunged into darkness. Only the light from his weapon shone across the temple.
Wow. Light, please.
The light slowly returned. Imanol caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun to confront whatever moved.
It was a Trilisk.
Imanol felt an instinctual fear of the unknown rise and grip him. It was not terrifying because of the awesome technology the Trilisks had wielded. It was just an awful monstrous thing. Imanol stared at the three legs, three arms, and the hideous sh
ape of its body, looking just enough like a giant face to be deeply disturbing.
Imanol’s laser came up and fired. He yelled something unintelligible. The thing turned, smoke coming from its side, showing him another grotesque face, one gray eye, cold like a giant squid eye, with a mouth or gill slit underneath. The laser fired again, putting another hole into the body. The thing kept coming, bouncing into Imanol and bowling him over. Imanol yelled in disgust and fear again. An attendant smashed into one of its legs, emitting a grotesque crunching sound.
Imanol had thought of the slit beneath its eye as a mouth, but now he was on the floor he saw its real mouth, a triple-tusked maw on the underside between the three legs. Before Imanol could shoot again, it bit him on the leg.
Imanol screamed. He set the laser to double energy and shot again and again. Finally it stopped moving. His laser reported an overheated condition. Imanol ignored it and pushed the Trilisk’s limbs away with his legs.
Imanol spasmed. He tried to stand but just fell back, shaking violently.
“Get it together! Get it together you incomalcon!” he yelled at himself. The thing was so weird, so ugly, his reaction was a hundred times worse than if a large crocodile had appeared and tried to eat him. Imanol had never shaken so much. He watched his own hands quivering and willed them to stop.
It’s like living a horror VR. I think I could make a good horror VR now.
Somehow the thought struck him as funny. Part of his shock wore off. He laughed a bit even as he spit vomit out of his mouth. “Yeah, I’ll make a bloody horror simulation and get rich. Just get rich and sit around doing nothing. No more ancient temples.”
He checked his leg. The Veer suit had protected him from most of the damage. Only the tusks had penetrated it. Some blood had leaked out, but the suit had sterilized the wound and sealed him up automatically.
Bitten by a Trilisk. Bitten! It was nothing more than a savage. A primitive monster.
Imanol still shook. He felt ill. He thought of poison for a moment, then just told himself it was just his mental reaction to the attack. The Trilisk had acted like a rabid dog, not a member of a super race that had dominated their section of the galaxy.
The Trilisk Revolution (Parker Interstellar Travels) Page 12