Survival Machines

by Ste Sharp

  ‘Come on!’ Crossley shouted between breaths. ‘Get it open.’

  ‘Maybe it doesn’t know how?’ Samas asked as Alpha remained motionless.

  ‘I know how,’ a rasping half-robot voice came from Alpha. ‘I’m not sure why.’

  ‘Why?’ Crossley shouted. ‘To get us off this bloody death trap, that’s why!’

  ‘Just open it,’ Samas ordered. ‘We must get airborne immediately!’

  John looked back at the tower. Mata was fighting the host of Platae while the remaining two Tathon leaders continued their attack on the tower, which was lined with more cracks. Giant shards of glass were fracturing and some had fallen inside, smashing on the giant obelisk, whose tip John could see through the gaps. At the tower’s base, large cracks snaked through the bedrock away from the tower, swallowing soldiers and buildings.

  ‘We have to ascend!’ John shouted.

  ‘I don’t think it was meant as–’ Crossley started.

  ‘Yes,’ Alpha said and twitched into action. ‘Ascension. Rise above. An individual now. Chart our own course.’

  ‘What did those guys do to him?’ Crossley whispered.

  ‘Advancement,’ Alpha replied as the door swished open. ‘Isao, the human, opened my mind to possibilities. Free thought.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Crossley said and patted the Lutamek on the arm as he rushed into the starship.

  John let Alpha in and was followed by a long line of impatient soldiers.

  ‘It’s the same as our ship,’ John said as he walked down the white-walled corridor, remembering the chilling moment he’d found his own stasis pod.

  ‘But built for bigger aliens,’ Crossley shouted back.

  John nodded, staring at the larger pods, as Samas pushed past, straight for Alpha.

  ‘Can you get this ship flying?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Alpha replied. ‘We must leave now.’

  ‘If we leave now we have a 40 per cent chance of survival,’ Rar-kin said.

  ‘As opposed to what exactly?’ Crossley asked.

  ‘Zero,’ Rar-kin replied calmly and climbed into a pod.

  ‘Well I’m not getting back into one of those things, whatever the odds,’ Crossley said.

  A swishing and clicking sound made John turn, followed by banging on the rear door.

  ‘We have reached capacity,’ Alpha said, stepping onto a platform that had lowered in the centre of the chamber. ‘Now we shall lift off. Current gravity maintained.’

  John watched the robot link its arms into a console. A series of large white rectangles flickered into life on the wall, each one snapping to what John presumed was a view of outside. The other ships were launching, some with scores of soldiers scrambling onto their sides.

  ‘But there aren’t any windows,’ John said, sitting down on a pod edge.

  Numbers and images flashed up on the screen near Alpha, reminding John of the devices in the dome cap. Then new rectangles appeared, showing images of individual Lutamek, which John guessed were live images of the pilots inside the other ships.

  ‘I need to know what’s going on,’ Samas said. ‘What are they saying?’

  Alpha twitched and a series of voices broke into the long metal room.

  ‘Not all at once!’ Samas shouted, covering his ears.

  ‘Audible contact for biological species assistance,’ Alpha replied.

  John couldn’t take his eyes off the images of the ground below, which moved away as they rose. New cracks were spreading fast from the tower, with some leading as far as the nearest domes.

  ‘There aren’t many domes at the centre of the disc,’ Rar-kin said, ‘which must mean–’

  ‘Not now, Rar-kin,’ Samas said. ‘What about the shield in the sky?’ he asked Alpha.

  ‘Still in place,’ Alpha replied. ‘We are to flock and wait.’

  Screens flickered in the ceiling and floor, sending a wave of vertigo through John’s head and stomach. It was like the whole ship was made of glass. Beneath, the remaining ships were taking off with a characteristic dust-ring cloud, but John could see plenty of soldiers still waiting to board.

  ‘What the hell?’ Crossley shouted and pointed to where a shadow of movement rolled across the ground. ‘It must be those shelled bastards.’

  ‘Oh…’ John watched in horror as the army of specks washed over a ship as it tried to take off, overwhelming it and pulling it back to the ground. An explosion blotted the ship out, and John looked up to see one of the tiny screens in front of Alpha flash and disappear. He stared outside the window at the array of domes scattered across the disc world. The nearest domes had started to subside.

  ‘Watch the tower,’ Samas said and John moved to get a better view.

  They were as high as the tower now. The glass was shattering and falling, bouncing off two white bubbles, which John guessed were the Tathon leaders’ shields. What about Mata? he thought. And everyone who hadn’t made it to the ships? As they ascended further, John imagined the horror of what was taking place on the ground. Then, with a flash, a white halo burned around the tower base and sent concentric rings blossoming away, across the disc.

  ‘Shield disengaged,’ Alpha said as the myriad voices on the screens picked up in volume and speed.

  A shudder ran through the ship and the view outside instantly switched from powder blue to pitch black as they passed through where the force field had been. John rubbed his eyes. It took him a few seconds to register the change. They were in space, surrounded by stars and the shapes of new spaceships as varied as the soldiers he’d seen on the disc.

  Below, the disc was splitting into a thousand chunks as it tore itself apart.

  ‘What the hell are we gonna do now?’ Crossley murmured.

  ‘There are approximately 3,500 space-going vessels in our visual range,’ Alpha said.

  ‘All from the disc?’ Samas asked.

  ‘No,’ Alpha replied. ‘Many are scanning us and the other survivor vessels.’

  ‘Where are they from?’ John asked.

  ‘Unknown,’ Alpha replied.

  ‘Can we speak with them?’ Samas asked.

  ‘Lutamek Command are deciding,’ Alpha replied.

  ‘Screw Lutamek Command!’ Crossley shouted. ‘Let’s get talking – find out who can help us and who the hell brought us here!’

  ‘Lutamek protocol–’

  ‘Fuck the protocol,’ Crossley snapped back. ‘You’re an individual now, you said it yourself.’

  Alpha turned to Crossley, then back to the screen, and said, ‘Scanning for known languages.’

  The whole crew stared at the myriad rectangles popping up on Alpha’s window. John saw various alien races appear and vanish; some he recognised but most were bizarre creatures to him.

  Then a human appeared.

  ‘Can you hear me, over?’

  Samas, Crossley and John gasped in unison.

  ‘Delta-Six?’ John said and felt a cold chill run down his back. He’d seen Delta-Six’s dead body, yet here he was on the screen. The shock and jubilation mixed in John’s veins, sending his heart thumping.

  ‘Enlarge the screen!’ Samas ordered and Delta-Six’s face appeared life-size on the window.

  ‘Can we talk back?’ Crossley asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Alpha replied and a screen of the occupants of John’s ship appeared next to Delta-Six’s face.

  ‘We can hear you, Delta-Six,’ Samas said.

  Delta-Six’s face lit up. ‘Communication established,’ he replied. ‘Can you confirm you are human soldiers from planet Earth?’

  ‘Yes,’ Samas replied.

  ‘Yes!’ Crossley shouted and John followed suit.

  ‘What are you doing up here, Delta-Six?’ John shouted. ‘We thought you were dead.’

  ‘I don’t know any Delta-Six,’ the man replied. ‘Is that a ship sign? I’ll have station look into it. May be historical. We’re having trouble communicating with the rest of your fleet. Can you–’

  �
�No,’ John replied. ‘You are Delta-Six. From Earth. From our future.’

  ‘I can confirm I am from Earth, but my name is Captain Dunia Toa of the Earth Ship Gilgamesh. It’s paramount that I ascertain the full contingent of human soldiers in your fleet.’

  John breathed in deeply and felt his good hand sweat. What on Earth was going on here?

  A flash to the left made him cover his eyes and the false windows dimmed to black.

  ‘What was that?’ Samas asked.

  ‘I am scanning the energy source,’ Alpha replied. ‘A new vessel has arrived.’

  ‘I can confirm that,’ Captain Dunia Toa said, who was still in audio contact, ‘and it’s what we feared. Put up your shields and move away as fast as you can. We will retrieve you in good time.’

  ‘We’ll do what we can,’ Samas replied.

  John could see the panic on the other soldiers’ faces.

  ‘We have a new incoming transmission,’ Alpha said as a new black screen appeared.

  John squinted as white letters appeared. They were in the same script as the writing on the obelisks, which the fungus in his brain translated into English.

  Congratulations on your ascension.

  ‘And we have images of the new ship,’ Alpha added as the windows flashed back into life.

  John could see the same ships as before, but a portion of space behind them had changed.

  ‘Where is it?’ Crossley asked.

  The image zoomed in, dots of light streaming past, until the patch of grey gained shape to form an immense, writhing mass of metal floating in the pitch black of space.

  ‘That’s a spaceship?’ John asked, freaked out by the way sections moved like snakes. ‘It’s huge!’

  ‘And it’s our enemy,’ Captain Dunia Toa’s voice returned and his face appeared onscreen again. He looked grave when he said, ‘Welcome to the war.’

  THE END

  Extract from Origin Wars

  Find out what happens next by reading this extract from Origin Wars (Book Three of the Origin Trilogy)

  ‘Draw in!’ Olan ordered. ‘To me.’ He raised his arm. ‘Circle formation. Weapons ready.’

  Olan counted his troops – twenty-two in total. Similar to the number he used to command on his longboat, he thought, but it felt too few for a mission in unknown territory. He’d asked Dunia Toa for backup but the captain had just made vague promises.

  ‘Now form two circles,’ Olan said from the centre. ‘Team A kneeling, team B standing behind.’

  The ring of soldiers split and reformed into two new circles surrounding him.

  Still no sign of movement anywhere. Wouldn’t his bloody chest plate help him? Olan wondered. All this time stuck inside the bizarre thing… he’d got used to it and knew its worth but there were times when he wanted to ask for a way to surgically remove it.

  ‘Movement at three o’clock,’ Sancha said.

  John Greene swivelled round, holding his sensor at arm’s length, and Olan copied him.

  ‘I’m picking up something big,’ John said. ‘No, wait a minute… it’s hundreds of readings. Tiny. Moving fast.’

  ‘More incoming at nine o’clock,’ Sancha said.

  ‘Keep in position!’ Cheng shouted, taking Olan by surprise.

  Sancha shuffled back to his original place. Some of the old hierarchy was still in place, Olan realised, but chose to ignore it. Cheng was right after all.

  ‘John, what have we got at nine o’clock?’ Olan asked.

  After a pause, John replied, ‘The same, coming in fast.’

  ‘I can see them!’ Yarcha said.

  ‘And movement in the sky,’ Euryleia said, pointing south above their trail of footprints.

  A dark cloud was building and swarming, swaying left and right like a creature sniffing a trail. What in Odin’s name was happening? Olan gripped his rifle tightly and wished he was carrying his trusty axe. They were surrounded but the last thing Olan wanted to do was to contact the ESG and ask for help. This was their test. Were they worthy?

  ‘Er, Olan?’ Crossley said.

  ‘What now?’ Olan shouted back.

  ‘There’s something happening near the Thermo-line… underground.’

  Olan looked back and, although he couldn’t see anything new, he felt a change in the thin air. His chest plate tingled across his skin as feelings of hunger and thirst pulled at his stomach. His heart was racing, sending fight-or-flight chemicals around his body as it reacted to what he couldn’t deny: they were being hunted. Rounded up to be consumed.

  But they were here on a peaceful mission, Olan reminded himself. They had come to find life and interact with it – to trade and offer the products of the Alliance’s knowledge. He slowed his breathing to keep calm and followed his protocols, pressing two buttons on his suit’s sleeve to emit a message in all directions.

  ‘We are peaceful.’ The message started and Olan recognised the voice. ‘We, the Alliance, mean you no harm. We are strong and wish to be your allies.’

  Olan turned a circle, keeping an eye on each incoming threat. To his left, he could see the ground swarm of what looked like a low red mist – the same to the right – and the cloud to the south was blocking most of the light now.

  ‘Something’s coming up!’ Crossley said. ‘Twenty feet to the north.’

  Olan spun around to see dark cracks spreading across the white floor like anti-lightning.

  ‘They look like ants,’ Sancha said. ‘Skipping over the sand.’

  Olan sent a silent prayer to Thor and switched his rifle on.

  ‘I’m scanning inside the cloud,’ John said, ‘and see thousands of floating creatures… like dandelion seeds.’

  It was too much for Olan. He switched his external message onto direct control.

  ‘Do you hear us?’ he broadcast. ‘We come in peace. We come as allies.’

  The ground shook as a deep, rumbling voice replied as clear as any voice on Olan’s radio.

  We have no need for you here, Alliance betrayers. But we accept your gift of food.

  ‘Prepare to fire!’ Olan shouted. ‘Shoot at will, shoot to kill.’

  ‘Aye,’ came several replies as lasers ripped the dry sky into hot lines, radiating out from their two circles of defence.

  A second later, scores of dark shapes erupted from the ground to the north of them in a cloud of white powder, sending salt rain pelting down on Olan’s soldiers.

  Now, Olan realised the real reason why they, and not the robotic soldiers, had been sent here.

  They were the bait.

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  Acknowledgements

  A massive thank you to Team Darwin for having faith in me and for your great taste in books! This novel wouldn’t exist without your support, which means the world to me.

  The team at Unbound have been brilliant as ever and I am proud to be published by such a forward-thinking publisher, who continually punch above their weight.

  Survival Machines was edited through the 2020 lockdown and, as with Darwin’s Soldiers, Hal Duncan and Derek Collett have worked their magic once again: chiselling, sanding and varnishing the original manuscript, transforming it into a smoother, more enjoyable read.

  A huge thank you to my parents, Sheryll and Malcolm, for their continued support throughout my writing career.

  And to Cath, Harry and Oscar: you continue to inspire and entertain me on a daily basis, and I’m incredibly proud of you all.

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