Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)

by Joshua James

  Everyone in the apartment’s attention quickly shifted from the anarchy out in space to the sound of a knock at their door. Rollins signaled for Francesca and Walter to leave and go into the bedroom. With the rifle’s business end resting on his stump, he approached the door, stopping about ten feet away.

  “Thunder….” Rollins used an ancient code that dated back long before man ventured out into space. Also a history buff, Ada had agreed to use this code to identify herself if she had to come back through the front door.

  There was no answer.

  “Thunder…” Rollins disengaged the rifle’s safety.

  “Jake?” Rollins’ heart sank as he heard Saito’s voice on the other side of the door. “Jake, that you? Why don’t you open up?”

  “Sir?” Rollins desperately wanted to believe it was his captain and friend on the other side of that door, but he knew better.

  “C’mon. Don’t make me order you to do it. I am your commanding officer.”

  “Afraid I can’t do that. Sorry, sir.”

  “That’s probably the best move. I understand why you can’t trust it’s me. But it is me. I don’t know how to prove that to you. How would you like me to prove it?” It really sounded like Saito. He was more…understanding than usual, but that was undoubtedly his voice.

  “Captain Saito, the real captain, he’d back off and leave us be. He’d accept that he can’t be trusted and retreat for his own men’s safety or, at the very least, peace of mind.” Rollins didn’t mean what he said, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

  Around the corner of the bedroom doorway, Francesca peeked out. Rollins silently motioned for her to go back inside.

  “That he probably would,” Saito said. “I should know, I’m him. I wasn’t always, but I’m your captain now.”

  There was a loud bang at the door. It was hit so hard that a fist-shaped dent protruded into the apartment side.

  “You’re just going to have to accept that.”

  Another blow.

  “You see, once we take you to the cold comfort of the Abyss…”

  The third blow knocked open the door. It peeled like a can of tuna.

  Rollins shot through the opening in the apartment door. His bullets had no effect. He didn’t even know if he hit anything. Scared by the sounds of gunfire, Francesca abandoned the bedroom and went into the bathroom. Walter followed. They shut the door.

  Able to do little more than look on in equal parts horror and disgust, Rollins watched Saito’s face first appear in the opening in the apartment door. Then it disappeared for a second before a pair of legs clad in a UEF captain’s uniform pants and boots slid through. They landed on the carpeted floor at the end of an unnaturally-elongated torso. As if made of putty or elastic, the rest of Saito’s body followed the legs through. Taking about ten seconds, the torso returned to normal, and standing in front of Commander Rollins was the smiling spitting image of Lee Saito.

  “Sorry you had to see that. I know your kind can be…disturbed by our appearance and abilities. But there’s no need to be. Really. We’re here to help you,” Saito held out his hand for Rollins to take.

  Rollins backed up as he emptied his mag into Saito. He watched as none of the bullets stopped it from moving forward, and watched as those same bullets fell to the floor. Knowing what was coming next, he lowered his gun.

  “We’re going to show you peace. We’re going to show you unity. We’re going to show you what humanity can be. So here, old friend. Take my hand.” Saito held out his hand. “Let me bring you that peace that every living thing desires.”

  Rollins knew that he wasn’t looking at his captain, his friend. He knew he wasn’t looking at the man who’d saved his life on Talvos. He knew he wasn’t looking at the man who’d personally groomed him to take command. He knew that if he embraced this creature it would mean death. But he hoped that in doing so, it wouldn’t find Francesca or Walter. Two lives for one felt like a fair trade.

  Walter had armed himself with a kitchen knife. He stood next to the toilet as he heard gunfire from the apartment outside the closed bathroom door. As ravaged as his mind was by the natural rigors of old age and trauma, he still managed to think to turn on the sauna, where Francesca hid.

  “What are you doing?” whispered Francesca as the sauna filled with steam. Walter turned it all the way up.

  “Whatever you hear, girl, stay in there.”

  The knife in Walter’s hand trembled as the bathroom door opened up. He forgot to lock it. Standing there was a man that Walter had never met, but whom he knew by reputation as Captain Saito. Saito was wiping blood off his hands with a rag, which seemed weird, since it was splattered and sprayed on his shirt and pants anyway.

  “Stay back. I’m warning you,” Walter tried false bravado, puffed his chest out as much as his age allowed.

  “Why fight me when you’re already so close to the Abyss?” Saito cocked his head to the side. “Why fight the inevitable?” He swiped his hand across Walter’s front. Mid-swipe, the hand turned into a blade and eviscerated him. “It’s so much more painful when you fight it.”

  Francesca screamed as she saw Walter’s blood spray onto the thick Plexiglas door of the sauna. Then she watched as his silhouette, which was all she could make out through the steam, slumped to the bathroom floor. A hand touched the door before quickly retracting.

  “Smart. You’re keeping it hot in there. But I wonder, child, how long can you take the heat?” asked Saito as he looked at his burnt hand.

  “Longer than you!”

  “Indeed, much longer than myself. But what’s to stop me from simply waiting outside this bathroom for you to come out?”

  Francesca didn’t have an answer. Saito had a good point. She couldn’t stay in here forever. Hell she couldn’t stay in here for more than ten minutes, maybe.

  Saito laughed. “Don’t worry, child. I’m not going to wait out here for you to come out. Not because I don’t care and don’t want to escort you to the Abyss. There’s too much to do. Starting with your friends, who are running around this space station, probably arming themselves and thinking that they’re going to have their last stand against us in the cafeteria.” He moved in close to the sauna door. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, just between the two of us. They’re walking into a trap. I know, devious, right? Anyway…I’ll see you later. I promise.”

  Francesca slid down the wall of the sauna and got into the fetal position. She cried harder than she’d ever cried before, even more than when her family died. It wasn’t from grief. Her tears were from pure abject fear.

  Twenty-Four

  “You sure you can make this?” Ben asked Morgan as she continued to fight the Lost for control.

  “You ask me that again and I’m going to put this thing into the side of this damn station out of spite,” Morgan barked back.

  “Easy,” Ben responded.

  “Not for me,” Morgan replied as she struggled to hold onto the pilot’s stick. It was like trying to corral a bronco with her bare hands.

  She wasn’t trying to be a dick to Ben, but she had better things to do than make small talk at the moment. Even Ace was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, although she figured that was just because he had nothing smartass to say of his own.

  Her prosthetic eyes calculated her trajectory and provided a red guidance track for her to follow into the docking bay.

  “She’s landed this piece of junk under worse circumstances,” Ace said. “One of these days, she’ll be as good a pilot as I am.”

  Morgan resisted the urge to take her hand off the controls to give him the finger. The Lost barreled down on the plasma shield-covered docking bay. Her speed wasn’t dangerous with solid controls. With these controls, well, she had to admit to herself that it was a little dicey.

  Once they broke inside the shield cover, they’d be inside the station’s artificial gravity. At that point, she’d lose control. Since she didn’t have thruster control, the best hope wa
s to bring the Lost to a slide stop in the docking bay.

  The only thing she had to hope for was—

  “Shit,” she said.

  “What?” Ben asked anxiously.

  “Hang on,” she said. “This is gonna be bumpy.”

  The docking bay loomed up in front of them. She felt the jolt as the ship passed the invisible plasma shield and moved into the bay proper.

  The floor of the docking bay was absolutely packed with ships. It looked like every ship in the station was still in port, like nobody had ever left.

  The initial impact of the Lost’s bottom hitting the docking-bay floor slammed her head forward in her jumpseat. She jerked forward so hard she figured she might have whiplash. Sparks flew as the ship slid across the floor.

  The Lost started sliding uncontrollably. First, it hit a simple station rover repair ship, causing it to start spinning. Next it hit a metal working stand that almost brought it to a stop. It ended by hitting the far wall of the docking bay, after pinballing off two other docked ships.

  Every alarm and warning sound/light blared inside the Lost’s cockpit. All three people inside were knocked out by the crash landing.

  Twenty-Five

  Ben unclipped his safety belt and fell out of his captain’s chair. His ribs were killing him. He might’ve broken a few from the whiplash.

  On his hands and knees, Ben spat up some blood. He took a moment to catch his breath and acclimate himself to his recently-endured injuries. As he rose to his feet, Ace started stirring.

  “You okay?” asked Ben as he stood up, groaning from the pain radiating from his ribs.

  “What kind of stupid question is that?” Ace unbuckled himself from his seat. His mouth too was filled with blood, which he spat out in Ben’s direction, though it didn’t hit him.

  “Morgan?” Ben hurried over as fast as he could to check on her. Her artificial eyes were open, but they made it hard to tell if she was conscious.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Morgan, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “That was either good flying or good crashing,” Ben said.

  “Same difference,” Morgan said.

  Ben coughed up a little more blood.

  “You don’t look so good,” Ace said.

  “That makes two of us,” Ben wheezed. His ribs were still on fire, but after a little stretching he decided it was just badly bruised.

  “No, seriously, he’s right,” Morgan said. She got up out of her chair. “Let me take a look.”

  “I’m guessing I don’t have a choice, do I?” Ben protested as Morgan lifted up his shirt. There was already deep, dark bruising on his ribs where the crisscrossing seat belt had kept him in place. “Don’t we have more important things to worry about then my boo-boos?”

  “And you’re coughing up blood? This is bad. Hold on, gonna take a deeper look. HUD, change view mode, x-ray.” Ben watched as Morgan’s eye color flashed briefly. He assumed she was seeing beneath his skin and muscle. Ben winced as Morgan touched his bruised ribs.

  “So how bad is it, doc?” he asked.

  “Not good. This might be a problem. We need to get those wrapped up.”

  “Wrapped up? I’m not a damn Christmas present.”

  “Shut up and sit down,” Morgan said as she forced Ben into her pilot’s seat.

  “Fine,” Ben said. “While we’re doing this, Ace, go on out and check out this place. See what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

  “I can tell you that one already,” Ace said as he made his way toward the rear of the Lost. “Trouble.”

  With one press of a worn-down button, the loading ramp unlatched and lowered. After a moment, Ace’s voice came over the Lost’s speakers. “Looks like we missed the party.” he said. “And it was a nasty party.”

  Ben activated the voice transmitter in the cockpit. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “You’ll see,” Ace said. “I’m collecting weapons.”

  Morgan and Ben exchanged glances.

  “From where?” Morgan asked.

  “Looks like something bad went down out here,” Ace said, “or several something bads. Lots of military armament, though. I’m loading up.”

  Ben shook his head and clipped off the radio transmitter. “He sounds like a kid in a candy shop.”

  “If he found weapons, he is,” Morgan said as she made one more loop around Ben’s ribs with one of the three rolls of gauze she was using. She clipped it on, then stepped back.

  “No way!” Ace exclaimed.

  Ben rolled his eyes and flipped the transmitter back on. “What now?”

  “I just checked the hallway outside the bay,” Ace said. “You’re not gonna believe what I found.”

  “Don’t go too far,” Ben said.

  “Yes, mother,” Ace said.

  “You’re good to go,” Morgan said to Ben.

  Ben nodded. “We’ll be out in a minute,” he said, then switched off the transmitter again.

  “Take your time,” Ace said, sounding like he was having fun now.

  “Does he always have mood swings like this?” Ben murmured to Morgan as he put his shirt back on.

  She shrugged. “He burns hot and cold. The guy drives me nuts sometimes, but you have to give him credit. As crazy angry as he can get, he cools off fast. And he’s loyal. That’s worth a lot of grief.”

  It dawned on Ben that Morgan actually liked Ace, in spite of the fact that they seemed to enjoy being at each other’s throats. Maybe Ben should have known that already. After all, they’d been working together long before they’d recruited him, and his own recruitment had really been for his money and connections at the time. As Ben recalled, Morgan had been fine continuing along with just her and Ace.

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Morgan said as she stood up and they headed for the back ramp. “He’s an asshole.”

  Ben laughed. “But he’s your asshole.”

  “Something like that,” Morgan said. “And speaking of assholes.” She rounded on Ben just as they reached the ramp. “If we die or lose this ship in all this, just to go chasing after your daddy, I’ll make Ace look like the sweetest guy you ever met.”

  Ben felt his pulse quicken. It was the ferociousness of her words that took him off guard. “I didn’t—”

  “We came out here chasing the Atlas,” she said, making it clear she was talking about her and Ace. “You want to find daddy.”

  “I’m still chasing the Atlas,” he said defensively. “That’s why—”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “You’re here to find the old man, and that’s fine. But if it comes down to finding out what happened to your old man or figuring out just what this damn alien invasion is, I bet you can guess which way this is going.”

  Her artificial eyes shifted as she stared.

  Ben thought about what those eyes meant to her. She’d lost her sight to the Oblivion, along with her husband and son. He realized how his own search for his father was a painful reminder to Morgan that she could never save those taken from her.

  “Okay,” Ben said. “I get it. Whatever we find out about my father, the most important thing is to understand what the Oblivion’s doing.”

  “It’s to stop them,” Morgan said. “Simple as that.”

  If it’s an alien invasion, Ben thought, how exactly are we going to stop that? But he didn’t say anything. Morgan didn’t seem to be in the mood to argue semantics.

  “Sounds great,” Ben said.

  Morgan nodded. “Now let’s go see what kinda clusterfuck Ace is getting into.” She gestured ahead. “After you.”

  Ben nearly reached the end the loading ramp when he pulled up short. “What the hell?”

  Two station police robots were pointing guns straight at him.

  Twenty-Six

  “Identify yourself,” ordered one of the robots in what Ben couldn’t help but think was the least appropriately robotic voice. It sounded more like a bored bureaucrat.

&nb
sp; “Uhhhh…” Ben didn’t know how to answer. Then he heard Ace laughing as he walked up behind the bot.

  “Stand down,” Ace said, still giggling to himself and shaking his head. “Sorry, guys, I just couldn’t help myself. Look at these things, aren’t they cool? Found them in the hallway back there.”

  “This…this is…” Ben stared beyond Ace at the dead bodies littering the docking bay. He saw lots of military, but there were plenty of civilians, too. Women and children. It looked like a bomb had gone off at the far end of the hangar, but that didn’t even seem to account for most of the damage. The smell hit him next, and he felt sick to his stomach. “My God,” he whispered.

  “Is pretty damn cool, right?” Ace put one arm around one of the robots. “They’re pretty much blank slates, from what I can tell. We can program these bad boys to do whatever we want.”

  “What the hell happened here?” Ben managed to ask at last, bracing himself with one hand on the loading ramp hydraulics, staring at the ghoulish surroundings.

  “Oh, you meant all these poor dead bastards?” Ace said, glancing behind him. “Yeah, it’s pretty rough. I told you, something bad went down here.” He paused. “Here, want a gun?” Ace bent over a handful of weapons he’d scavenged and picked up one of the rifles.

  Ben took the rifle without a word, struggling to come to terms with the carnage. That Ace seemed to acclimate to it instantly was all the more disturbing to Ben. Ace had been a Marine in another life. He’d seen some war zones, but how could he be so blasé about this? It must be a coping mechanism.

  “I’ll take one, too,” said Morgan, stepping out of the ship. “Shit,” she said, stopping in her tracks as she looked at the carnage. “What a shitshow.” She wrinkled her nose. “God, the smell.” Ace threw her a gun, which she caught awkwardly. “Easy, idiot.”

  “So what the hell do we do now?” Ace asked.