Uprising

by David Ryker

  Uprising

  Fugitive Marines | Book 4

  David Ryker

  Douglas Scott

  Ryker’s Rogues

  Contents

  Available Now

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Available Now

  Available Now

  Check out all the other titles currently available in the Fugitive Marines series, and download your FREE copy of the Fugitive Marines prequel, Framed!

  Fugitive Marines

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  Breakout - Book 1

  Wanted - Book 2

  Lockdown - Book 3

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  Soldier - Book 2

  Prologue

  THE MAIN ASTEROID BELT BETWEEN MARS AND JUPITER

  The alien hulk of a ship hung in space, motionless, much as it had a few weeks earlier near the star Fomalhaut, some twenty-five light years from where it was now. Except now, it was inhabited by a new crew member, a human amidst insectile aliens, a tallish man with a solid build and a thick beard. And this man’s mind contained three distinct entities, two of which had merged into one months earlier, and a third which had recently taken up residence in his head.

  And they were arguing.

  We’re here, said Kergan, the aspect whose body the minds shared. Now what?

  The ship’s scanners were showing images of the nearest asteroids in the belt that formed a rough ring between Mars and Jupiter. Kergan had to use the eyes of one of the alien drones to perceive the images, since they were being broadcast in frequencies that were undetectable by his human eyes. There were thousands visible to them, matching up with charts that Kergan had uploaded to the ship via a connection to the Earth global internet network that the Toomey part of him had managed to hack into with the ship’s technology.

  This is where it must have happened, said Toomey.

  Yeah, yeah, Kergan said with the mental equivalent of a sigh. This is where Quinn and his people got their sudden tailwind that somehow shot them to Uranus in the blink of an eye. I know this because you know it, Doctor. It’s all you’ve been thinking about for the last three weeks. I’m asking what we do about it.

  The phenomenon must have involved the God Element, said Toomey. It’s the only possible explanation.

  You’ve said that, too. So now that we’re here, what do we do? I’m tired of sitting here with my metaphorical thumb up my metaphorical ass, especially since you now share that ass with me. And all this time we’re using up precious resources on this ship. So kindly get to the fucking point.

  You need to focus more in our mind, Kergan.

  And you need to recognize that we don’t have an infinite supply of food and water in the physical realm of this ship, asshole! In case you didn’t notice, we’re a long way from the nearest supply stores!

  Kergan’s physical body took a deep breath of the fetid atmosphere inside the ship and let it out again. They had thought about simply moving their mind into one of the aliens—their insect bodies were stronger and more resilient than humans, after all, and much more suited to the conditions on the ship—but neither he nor Toomey could predict what effect that might have on their shared consciousness, and, current bickering aside, they were in no hurry to lose their unique new relationship.

  Sorry, he said. You know me; I’m a pragmatist.

  Of course, said the doctor. And it’s important that you keep track of the physical realm. You know I’m not particularly good with it. But I’m convinced that this region is where they encountered the element, and somehow used it to enter hyperspace.

  And that’s somehow different than the wormhole generated by the Span?

  Indeed. Hyperspace is an extradimensional realm in which the laws of physics are not a limitation on a physical object. Hence the light speed barrier can be broken by bypassing the physical universe entirely. The Gestalt’s Einstein-Rosen bridge, by contrast, is used to fold the space-time continuum, allowing for instantaneous travel between two points within the physical universe itself. It’s inherently limited due to the need for sending and receiving apparatus on both ends. Hyperspace travel is far more efficient.

  Kergan chuckled. One of the best parts of sharing my head with you, Doctor, is that now I’m able to understand what the hell you’re talking about.

  The question, Toomey continued, is not just how Quinn’s people learned how to use it, but how they managed to do it so quickly. And why didn’t they use it on their return trip? It took them three weeks to get back to Earth, according to what we discovered when we hacked the network.

  That memory was enough to fill them both with intense gratification. The video had shown the Jarheads landing back on Earth and immediately being swept off to prison for stealing the Rafts they used for their assault on Oberon One, and for the murders of everyone who had been left on the prison station. There was also a civil suit pending from Oscar Bloom over the destruction of SkyLode property, though they knew Quinn wouldn’t have a chance of paying any settlement. It was simply a symbolic gesture to rub salt in their wounds, and the very thought of it lit up Kergan’s heart.

  You enjoy that immensely, don’t you? Toomey asked. Their humiliation?

  Kergan fixed their gaze on the closest of the asteroids, one of the smaller ones, through a porthole in the ship rather than watching through a drone’s eyes on the screens. Being so close to Earth was making him antsy for some reason. Or was that coming from Toomey?

  So do you, he replied. Don’t try to deny it, Doctor, I can feel it. Knowing they ended up back in prison helps make up for what they did to us out there. The Gestalt wants nothing to do with us now. It’s like being disowned by one’s family.

  True, said Toomey, but let’s not forget we’re not entirely blameless in the matter. We did kill the aspect of the Gestalt that was controlling the drones on this ship. I don’t imagine the rest of the hive appreciated that.

  Trust you to take all the fun out of things, Doctor.

  Perhaps I can make up for it.

  Kergan’s mood picked up. How?

  There is God Element present here in this asteroid belt, said the doctor. If we can retrieve it, our options will be much more varied… and interesting.

  Yeah, and your own memory tells me that SkyLode went searching there for palladium long before they scouted Oberon and mapped the majority of it. There’s almost two million asteroids in there; how are we supposed to find the element before our supplies run out?

  He felt Toomey grin within his mind. I have a theory, my friend, said the doctor.

  I assumed as much, you crazy bugger. Let’s hear it.

  Toomey took control of their shared body for a moment and called up an image on Kergan’s wristband viewing screen. A holographic image of an asteroid appeared in the spherical projection.

  This is Ceres, he said. The largest of the asteroids; in fact, it is considered a dwarf planet.

  “Yippee sk
ippy,” Kergan said aloud. “What of it?”

  The projection zeroed in on an area on the surface of the asteroid that appeared to glow with a faint blue light.

  Those spots of light were first observed some eighty years ago by NASA scientists, said Toomey. That was back before the space agencies were privatized and taken over by corporate interests. There was some speculation at the time that the glow was from the presence of sodium carbonate, or perhaps magnesium sulfate. In any case, it wasn’t deemed important enough to follow up on once it was determined in the 2080s that there was no palladium in the planet.

  Kergan felt his interest growing and his mood rising as the doctor’s meaning took hold in his area of their collective mind.

  God Element, he said with mild awe. It has all the classic signs, just like the area where the meteors struck back on Oberon!

  Exactly. The equipment available to human science at the time—or, for that matter, today—would not be able to detect the element, since only part of it actually exists in the physical universe. At best it would simply register as a glitch in the sensors, if at all. Nothing of value.

  And yet the most valuable substance in the universe. Kergan felt his excitement rising, and with it, a powerful erection beneath his SkyLode coveralls.

  Is that truly necessary? Toomey asked.

  “Can’t be helped, Doc,” Kergan said aloud. “I’m just a physical guy.”

  Yes. Well. In any case, once we retrieve the element, we can put it to any number of uses. Entering hyperspace, obviously, but an infinite array of other possibilities.

  What about a massive attenuation amplifier?

  As soon as he thought it, Kergan was in the astral realm, facing a floating image of the man who had once been Grigori Tomalchev and who had recreated himself later in life as Dr. Toomey. The image was an amalgamation of the old and young, which, in this realm, was as normal to Kergan as his own reflection.

  What are you saying? the doctor asked.

  An image of the amplifier that Sloane had built and Toomey had modified on Oberon One appeared in the void between them, only now it was the size of a small building.

  With enough Element, could we build an amplifier that could attenuate an entire planet’s population? Kergan asked. It would have sounded breathless if he had been speaking in the physical realm.

  Toomey’s avatar began to shift color, from a white glow to a greenish hue, indicating his discomfort.

  It’s possible, he said. What are you suggesting?

  Kergan grinned. Come now, Doctor. You know exactly what I’m suggesting.

  But you know yourself from personal experience that attenuation is unpredictable with humans. Our own situation is a perfect example of that.

  In rare cases, yes. But in most, it’s achievable. Some eighty percent of the people on board Oberon One were fully attenuated.

  Toomey’s green was slowly shifting to a light blue. He was intrigued. Still, he warned. The remaining twenty percent caused you no end of trouble, especially the handful who escaped.

  See, there’s the best part, said Kergan. Quinn and his little band of assholes have already survived attenuation attempts twice. A third time will no doubt kill them.

  An intriguing point.

  Think of it, Doctor: beginning a new empire on Earth, with us as leaders. You could see your genius realized to its full potential—we could go on to challenge the Gestalt itself! Imagine that boy in the relocation camp becoming the ruler of an interstellar empire!

  Toomey was back to the white light again, but he was still cautious in his response. An image of their ship appeared between them in all its viciously ugly glory.

  I don’t disagree, he said. But we must remember our current limitations. We won’t be able to use the Element without cannibalizing our ship, and as you yourself pointed out, we’re already running low on supplies as it is.

  Kergan felt his own aura dip from white to red, but it quickly returned to normal.

  “A very good point, Doctor,” he said aloud as his consciousness returned to the physical body on the bridge of the ship. He reached out to one of the insect soldiers and had it hand him its weapon. The blaster looked like a smaller version of the ship, lopsided and front-heavy, and it was difficult to manipulate with his human hand. But this was something he wanted to do himself, rather than leave it to the drones.

  What are you—

  Before Toomey could finish his thought, Kergan levelled the blaster at the head of the drone nearest him, the one that had once been known as N’Yhillit. The blast of energy-rich plasma tore through the chitinous shell of its head and vaporized the brain inside. Kergan felt an echo of the blast in his own mind as the body died, just as he did with each of the other four drones he blasted. When he was finished, there were five bodies on the gooey floor of the bridge, with two left standing, staring blankly through their multi-faceted eyes.

  Was that entirely necessary?

  “I just increased our supplies by about sixty-two-point-five percent, Doc.” Kergan dropped the blaster on the terminal in front of him. “I know my math is right, because it’s coming from your brain. And the remaining two drones can feed off the others, which is a net gain.”

  He waited for a comeback from Toomey, but there was none forthcoming.

  “All right, then,” he said, ordering one of the live drones to use the terminal to enter coordinates and activate the ship’s engines. “Next stop, Ceres.”

  Very well, said Toomey.

  Kergan’s eyes danced as he gazed out the porthole at the rapidly advancing asteroids.

  “And after that,” he said quietly, “on to Earth.”

  1

  “How do you feel?”

  Chelsea managed to focus her eyes on the woman leaning over her, but it wasn’t easy. The periphery was still blurred, and just the effort of using her vision seemed to make her tired.

  “Not… not good,” she whispered. “Where…?”

  The woman’s hand was warm and dry against Chelsea’s brow. “That’s normal,” she said in a soothing tone. “You’re in a medical suite. You’re still recovering.”

  Recovering? That was a good description of how she felt. She was exhausted, and her thoughts were like rabbits running loose through her head: every time she tried to catch one, two would dart past and she’d lose her grip on the original.

  But at least she knew where she was. Now she needed to know what was happening.

  “Okay,” she said, feeling a bit stronger now. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” asked the woman. She was dark skinned, with flowing black hair and stunning violet eyes.

  “Who are you?” asked Chelsea.

  The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she chuckled softly. “I’m still Dr. Indira Copeland, just like the last seven times you asked me.”

  Doctor? Chelsea felt a vague sense of unease at the word. Shouldn’t she be more at ease knowing this person was a doctor?

  “I dreamed—” she began, then stopped, trying to collect her thoughts. “I dreamed about—about people. They were at my home, and I was supposed to make an announcement. There was this woman there who was…”

  Who was what?

  Dr. Copeland leaned in close. “Did this woman look like me?” she asked gently.

  “Yes!” The realization made Chelsea’s pulse quicken. “Yes, she looked just like you! She was doing something… I can’t remember what, but it was bad.”

  The doctor nodded. “We’ve been through this before, Chelsea. Several times, in fact.”

  “Been through what?” But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she hadn’t asked. She was afraid of the answer.

  Dr. Copeland took her hand and smiled. “The first thing I want you to remember is that you’ll get through this,” she said in a tone that made her sound like a teacher repeating a lesson to a child. “It just takes some time. Your brain is just p
lain tired, Chelsea, and your body is following suit. It’s perfectly normal for patients, especially at this stage.”

  Chelsea felt her stomach drop. The words brain and patient together were enough to send the rabbits in her mind racing off in all directions again, ratcheting up the sense of panic that had slowly been building in her since she’d woken up. Her eyes flitted around the room—this wasn’t her family’s personal medical facility in Bloom Tower. It looked like an actual hospital room, albeit a luxurious one.

  “This stage of what?” Chelsea asked in a small voice, feeling her pulse in her throat. “Doctor, am I… am I going crazy?”

  The doctor looked surprised and quickly shook her head, gripping Chelsea’s hand more tightly.

  “You are not going crazy,” she said intently. “Psychiatrists have never liked that word to refer to mental illness in the first place, but in your case, it’s also inaccurate. Chelsea, your psychosis—”

  “Oh, my God,” Chelsea moaned.

  Dr. Copeland put up a calming hand. “It’s just a term to describe your symptoms. Your disconnection with reality is entirely physical, and it’s perfectly in line with the infection you’re fighting.”

  Chelsea blinked. “Infection?”

  “Yes,” said Dr. Copeland, smiling again. “You’re dealing with a parasitic infection. We don’t know exactly what the cause is yet, but we do know how to treat it, and we’re doing so. It just takes some time.”