Warrior- Integration

by David Hallquist

  “Brandt, this is a secure core, not the castle of an evil wizard. Any secret passages into or out of this level would completely negate this floor’s entire purpose. The only way to the elevator shaft is through the security lock and down the main corridor.”

  That’s going to be a problem. On the screens, I can see four guards covering the doorway with laser rifles. There are twelve more men behind them, including a pair using a crew-served plasma blaster with a portable reactor.

  “I don’t suppose there are an assault-battloid and a dozen combat remotes tucked away in here?”

  “I’m afraid there are no additional weapons available, Brandt. But I can affect environmental, fire suppression, decontamination, and a number of other systems that most people don’t normally think of as weapons.”

  A chill runs up my spine. Sure, I was prepared to massacre the lot of them to save the hospital and prevent interplanetary war. But messing with life-support…you just don’t go there. I’ve been on Luna a while, and that suggestion goes over with Lunars about as well as being invited to a nice meal of human babies.

  Can I do it? Yes. They are all trying to kill everyone in the hospital, and I don’t have another way to stop them. Do I like it? No.

  “Do it.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 92

  I make myself watch. I’m not going to turn away and try to ignore what I’ve done.

  High-pitched alarms sound in the corridor, and yellow strobe lights flash along the mirrored walls. The guards look up in fear. Everyone knows what this means. Go, you bastards. Get out of there. You don’t have to die. Not like this.

  The guards stand their ground while the docs and staff flee to the side passageways. Maybe they think their light armor and masks will protect them. Maybe they think it’s a bluff. Or, maybe they believe in what they are doing as much as I do and are willing to die for it.

  All the doors slide shut on the side passages. It’s too late for them to leave.

  The corridor becomes an avenue of Hell. All the decontamination procedures go off at the same time, followed by emergency fire suppression. The light, partial armor some of the guards wear was never designed to deal with this.

  First, chemical sprays blast from the ceiling, dispersing into a deadly, toxic mist. Everyone without masks gasp and begin coughing and gagging, eyes shut against the stinging chemical spray. The guards in armor slap at their exposed skin and huddle up as the caustic liquids cling to them, slowly burning their flesh.

  Harsh radiation pours into the hall. Gamma rays, X-Rays, UV—most of it is invisible, except for the searing deep violet light. Anyone without eye protection is now blind. Exposed skin blackens and blisters, and the hall fills with screams as they curl up and try to limit their exposure to the terrible light.

  Last, fire suppression evacuates the air from the hall. The halls fog up as the air begins to evaporate and freeze at the same time. I can’t see the details, but I know what’s going on from the fading screams. Right now, air is being sucked out of their lungs, and blood is erupting from their eyes, nose, and ears. Some of them try using the masks on the partial armor. It won’t help. The air in their lungs will burst out and tear through their chest cavity, killing them more quickly.

  The mists and fog fade away in hard vacuum. Ice and frozen blood paint the halls. Even the handful of men in full suits are disoriented, with smoking ice covering their visors. Everyone else is either dead or dying. The floor is carpeted in writhing men, gasping like fish out of water, boiling tears of blood streaming from their red eyes.

  I try to tell myself they were going to blow up the hospital. I tell myself there was no other way. It’s true, but I hate seeing men die like this. It brings me back to the war, the battlefields misted in clouds of gas, bio-agents, radiological and nano-weapons. Watching men die, eaten from the inside, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  On another screen, the three Special Security men in hardsuits have just gotten to the bottom and are cutting their way through to the reactor level. Now or never.

  “Sharron, I’m going out. Pressurize the hall and keep them distracted.” I step into the security lock and charge my laser as it begins to rotate.

  Time to finish this.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 93

  The door opens into chaos.

  Flashing alarms, fire suppression mists, and chemical fog make vision impossible. Three different klaxons buzz and shriek in the air, hammering at my ears. IR, radar, and lidar from my visor are useless; the mists and sterilizing radiation turn everything into static. The four guarding the door are still there, visible only as dim shadows in the mists and strobes.

  I get a tactical overlay from Sharron, showing everything in the hall, and I can feel the vibrations through the floor as men flail about. These four are still alive because of their armor, and they are armed with laser rifles that will still be deadly at close range, even in the mists.

  They’ve got to go first.

  I strike the first man in the throat with my power blade before he knows I’m there. As the next is trying to raise his rifle, I rotate and cut him with a down stroke, severing his hand and part of the rifle.

  As the other two turn toward the screaming, I fire my laser pistol. The air glows red and mists flash to steam as the beam spreads out in the fog. Both men cry out, temporarily blinded, and one drops his weapon and collapses to his knees. I strike the first through his visor, and the second in the back of the neck.

  More are starting to head in my direction. Soon, it will be too crowded to move. At the end of the hall, I see the graphic depicting the two gunners on the heavy plasma support weapon.

  I jump hard. With my enhanced strength and the low gravity, it’s easy to clear to the end of the hall. I can make it because most of the others are either crawling on the floor or prone, ready to fire.

  I land on the first man and drive my power blade through the armor on his back. As the other turns toward me, I shove my pistol under his jaw and fire, boiling his brain from the inside.

  Data is coming up on the weapon before me. The “Big Dog,” a BD-147 crew-served plasma repeating light anti-vehicle weapon. Powered by a laser-pulsed, portable, fusion reactor and cooled by liquid helium and super-thermal conductive nano wire, it can maintain continuous fire for up to 30 minutes. The plasma torpedoes can defeat anything short of a battle tank or armored spacecraft, with a splash effect that will ruin anyone’s day. Don’t mess with the Big Dog.

  It’s already unlocked for general combat, so I can use it. You don’t have time to have your soldiers re-code their weapons when their partner goes down. I’ll be using it on manual.

  I grab the butterfly grips and fire down the hall. The flash suppressor on the barrel isn’t to hide the flash, but to keep the plasma back blast from incinerating the operator. The hall fills with blue fire and death. A heavy, hot wind blasts back at me as I lay down a fire pattern in the crowded hall. It’s impossible to see or hear anything, and even my fire-control systems can only give me estimates about what’s happening downrange.

  I stop. My ears are ringing, and I have to blink away the spots despite the flash shades of my visor. Hot winds roar down the hallway, mixed with clouds of ash. My mask warns me that the air is not breathable. Large parts of the walls glow red-hot, and molten yellow, glowing craters are scattered across the walls, floor, and ceiling. Small, carbonized lumps indicate where men had been standing close to a detonating torpedo. There is nothing left of anyone I hit directly.

  Why did they have this bad boy set up inside? I can only guess. Most likely, it was a last-ditch defense in case I got through everyone else.

  “Brandt,” Sharron says, “the Special Security forces have reached the reactor. You have ten minutes until they have warmed the plasma mix enough to begin ignition.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 94

  I’m taking the dog for a walk.

>   First, I initialize the weapon’s systems so I can use its computers and link its sensors to my visor. No more firing blind; the cameras will send data to me between each shot, so the muzzle flash won’t blind me anymore. The same goes for the active targeting systems, radar and lidar, giving me a real view of my targets. While the torpedoes aren’t guided, they can burn right through interior walls before exploding, turning cover into concealment, and the sensors will get rid of any concealment of walls, doors, and bulkheads. If I hadn’t been behind that heavy, armored door and computer vault, this gun could have burned me down from across the floor.

  Going to mobile mode, I fold the butterfly handle up, and fold down the pistol grip. It’s a little awkward, but with the stock tucked under my arm, it can be used like a huge rifle. Sort of. The weapon is nearly as long as I am tall. You need boosted strength, an exoskeleton, or low gravity to carry it this way. Two out of three for me. The ionizing material isn’t a gas, but a super compressed liquid that can explode if released. The tank under the barrel is almost full, so my only limitation is energy.

  The fusion reactor masses more than I do. Still, the shoulder straps are for boosted guys in exoskeletons. It tucks onto my back, and I can monitor its power output on my visor and make sure it doesn’t blow up on me. Hopefully. Who doesn’t want to walk around with a laser-pulsed fusion generator on their back? The power cable is an armored, superconducting braid as thick as my forearm. If that goes down, the weapon is useless, and a short would turn me into an ion cloud.

  Overall, it’s a little awkward, but I handle the weight alright. With the added mass, I can actually walk normally again; no need to glide or bounce around. Of course, I won’t be doing anymore super long jumps, either.

  I bring up the floorplans for the facility on my visor. Red figures show where the Special Security men are and the status of the reactor.

  There is a layer of Lunar rock between each level, and the main reactor is several floors down. It would take too long to dig through the rock with the blaster, and I’d probably hit lots of prisoners held in the murder-lab as well. So, down I go.

  Sharron’s scanners indicate the Terran forces are in the reactor room, and they didn’t drop off any cameras or explosives on the way down. Still, I want to be sure. I give a few quick pulses of radar down the elevator shaft. The painted image of the shaft shows up on my visor; nothing down there except the doors from this floor.

  I jump. The red lights of the magnet rings on the shaft drift by, then fly past.

  My weapon glances off one of those rings and sends me spinning down the shaft. I glance off another wall and then hit hard, with my pack on top of me. It may not weigh as much, but the mass is still there. I try to stand and fall back to my knees.

  Broken ankle. Even with the monster, I’m not walking for a while.

  “Brandt!” Sharron transmits. “They are supercharging the reactor magnets from the emergency reserve cells. It will blow in…” She cuts off abruptly.

  Jamming. No communications with Sharron or the outside world. My targeting systems are blind. They know I’m here, and I’ve run out of time.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 95

  Next to me are the cut open doors for the reactor level. Power systems and other functions run from here. Bare metal shines under stark utility lights. Ducts and cables are exposed, and simple metal grates serve as floors. The corridor runs straight down and then splits into a T. This whole level is for the reactor and other utility systems. There won’t be any prisoners here; there’s no risk of collateral.

  The good news is I can cut loose. The bad news is the enemy is mobile and knows where I am, and I’m crippled and have no sensors. So, I use my natural senses, listening for the slightest sound and feeling for any tremor in the floor.

  Here they come.

  The high-pitched scream of seeker drones and the stuttering hiss of SPGs are getting closer. They’ll be rounding the last corners any second and then make their final attack run.

  No reason to wait. I prop up the big dog and start firing just before they come into view.

  Streams of blue stars flash down the hall, hitting the end in brilliant explosions of blinding, white fire. The torpedoes don’t hit the incoming enemy weapons, but they don’t have to; the series of explosions sets off the SPGs and destroys the swarm of seekers.

  The end of the corridor is a smoking ruin. Walls glow from hits, and the ceiling is partially collapsed. Liquids stream from ruptured pipes, and sparks fly from ruined cables. There is a hole in the wall at the corridor’s end and another in the far wall of the room behind it.

  Nothing moves. The only sounds are the groaning of metal, the roar of flames, and the crack of stray electricity.

  Are they coming? Why should they? They don’t need to come to me, they just need to hold me off until they set off the reactor. They could set up ambushes in any number of locations on this level. With the stealth systems on their exoskeletons, the jamming systems sending out clouds of static, and all the power and heat running through conduits on this level, I’d never see them until it was too late. They could set up smart mines and other booby traps, leaving me limping slowly through a ruined floor, dragging a heavy weapon with a power signature visible from Jupiter, going through ambush after ambush.

  Nope.

  The holes in the opposite wall show another way. I aim the big dog at the reactor, lining it up with the map on my visor, and cut loose.

  The BD blasts out a rain of blue stars down the corridor and begins to chew through the walls as the roaring explosions of the torpedoes blend together. Lunar steel and bonded ceramics can’t stop this sun-hot fire. One wall is breached, then another, and another after that. The explosions are getting farther away, and the roar and glare begins to fade.

  Everything goes white, then my visor cuts off. Searing pain washes over me from the heat, and a great, fiery wind slams me against the elevator shaft as it roars past and up.

  All I hear is the screaming in my ears from the blast wave. I fumble with my ruined mask with burned hands and pull it away. I see light again and know I am not blind.

  Flames roar along the ceiling, and clouds of smoke spiral up the elevator shaft. The whole level is on fire, and there is a brief tremor as part of the ceiling collapses somewhere.

  I’m coughing from the smoke, and the monster is doing something to my throat. It’s also made some kind of cast, fusing my broken ankle together, and taken away the pain of the burns. It’s all happening slowly, though. I think it’s as tired as I am.

  That wasn’t the reactor going critical, or I wouldn’t be here. Most likely, that was the contained, heated plasma being released and the stored power in the containment magnets. The next floor up probably took some damage, but that’s it.

  We did it.

  Then I notice the warning lights of the reactor on my back.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 96

  The reactor on my back won’t go up in a nuclear explosion; it can’t. It can, however, release its superheated plasma and electrical charge, turning me into free ions. I’ve got to get this thing off my back and get far, far away from it. I open the clasps holding the unstable reactor on my back and get ready to climb.

  The shadow of a man staggers out of the smoke and flame. Must be one of the Special Security, hiding far enough away from the reactor explosion to survive it. I go for my laser pistol, but he fires first.

  The world goes blazing red, then black, as fire sears my skin. I’m blind, and burned, but still alive. The smoke and ash must have spread his beam. If he gets closer enough for a direct shot, he’ll burn me down.

  I can feel his approaching footsteps through the metal floor. I fire my laser pistol back at him, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect; he is still coming. Between the smoke and his exoskeleton, I may as well be spitting on him.

  Only one weapon left. I use the last of my strength to hurl the unstable reactor at him. Tremors in the floor tell me i
t hits and knocks him down. I tune the laser to continuous beam and hold the fire on the reactor. Eventually, it should burn through the shielding. Soon…before he gets out from under the reactor…which he’s doing now…they do make these things tough…is it ever going to blow?

  I feel heat as a wave, then feel no pain as the blast throws me against the wall. I can’t see, hear, or feel anymore. It’s a mercy; I don’t want to know how badly I’m hurt right now. I can’t move anymore. Both the monster and I have had it. Still, I feel at peace for the first time I can remember.

  It’s over. The hospital has been saved, and the war between Terra and Luna will be put off for a few more years, maybe. Best I could hope for.

  Is it over for me? I don’t know. I can’t move, and this whole floor is on fire and may collapse. There are still Singularity goons from the murder-lab, and I bet they aren’t too happy with me right now. Maybe they will get to me first. The Lunar security forces are probably all over this place now. Maybe they will get to me first.

  I think I’ll wait a while and see what happens.

  * * * * *

  Part Thirteen: Tartarus

  Chapter 97

  Luna has the best jails, and I should know.

  Terran jails are famous but don’t measure up. Sure, all of Terra is a prison. The camps they house political prisoners in are feared by the whole Solar System. Then there are the torture chambers of the deep prisons, far below the surface, which are supposed to be impossible to escape from. Still, they are holes—rundown camps or pits with no organization. Lots of random people get swept into the maw of Special Security and disappear there for no reason. And people escape from the “escape proof” prisons all the time. Graft and corruption are as alive there as anywhere else; favors and hidden cash can buy anything, anywhere.