Redemption Protocol (Contact) (70 page)

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Authors: Mike Freeman

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Redemption Protocol (Contact)
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Jafari clutched the wall, panting hard. He coughed up more blood.

He didn't have long. He'd taken a round in the back and kinetics had shattered his leg. He thought he'd done well just to get out the amphitheater alive. He had to get the message out. He had to.

He pushed off the wall and stumbled down the pyramid’s entrance hall toward the obelisks. His last two micromissile mines signaled him as they detonated. The boom reverberated up the tunnel behind him. The Gathering pursuit would accelerate now. He wondered if they’d try and take him alive.

His microdrone feed showed five Gathering soldiers in pursuit before it blanked out. He had no micromissiles or kinetics left. His suit was critically damaged. He pulled off to one side and collapsed into cover.

Getting out of the pyramid alive was too much to hope for. He knew his wounds were fatal. Gathering soldiers were probably circling round the pyramid to ambush him at the entrance in the event they didn’t catch him.

He lay slumped and panting against the sloping wall. He heard the soldiers approach. A Gathering microdrone buzzed out of the corridor and hovered in front of him, sizing him up.

He had one more card to play. He flicked out his last microdrone into the corridor. It showed four Gathering soldiers in heavily armored suits before it was lased out of existence. He’d seen enough.

He swallowed. He had no idea if this thing would work. He hadn't witnessed it – Havoc had told him about it. He swiped his hand down across the panel.

The Gathering didn't even have time to scream before the ceiling hit the floor.

 181. 

 

 

 

 

The first thing that Havoc was conscious of was the sound. It was a motor driving against an impossible force and straining beyond its limits. An electrical whine of distress that rose continuously in pitch. The cry of a machine pushed outside its operational envelope.

I shouldn't be able to do this, he thought.

> Wow, Stone cast.

Havoc stood balanced on his left leg. Cupped in his left gauntlet was the right pincer of the blade, en route to his head. His right leg was fully extended, his shin in front of Stone's face, the sole of his boot stopping the left pincer of the blade in mid-flight, only centimeters from punching clean through Stone's skull. The pincers pressed in powerfully. And he was holding them. The G6 kept pushing – perhaps it was struggling to come to terms with impossible facts that contradicted its most basic assumptions. Its motors screamed. Havoc's looked up at the sense bundles on the blade stem. His face was grim and his right arm was free.

> You look like an ice dancer, Stone cast.

A stream of tungsten and depleted uranium punched through the blade's sense bundle. No guidance was necessary at this range. Havoc traversed down the stem, kinetics obliterating the blade's spine.

The blade disintegrated and its arms dropped away. Havoc stopped firing and swung down onto both feet.

Stone stood mesmerized. Havoc turned slowly, scanning the ground.

Stone kicked one of the blade arms and his boot bounced off. The arm didn't budge. Stone shook his head.

> I bet you get a lot of girls with that move.

 182. 

 

 

 

 

Arzbad-Framander Zuelth approached the Redeemer in His human form. A disappointingly Alliance form as it turned out, but Zuelth had a lifetime of practice at hiding his true feelings.

Zuelth bowed his head.

“Your Father saw fit to collapse the corridor ceiling onto the infidel, oh Lord. We assume the unbeliever was crushed, but I have dispatched guards around the pyramid to block his escape.”

Actually the Yuz-bashi had dispatched the guards, but Zuelth would garner any and all credit going with his Divine Savior incarnate.

The Redeemer stared at Zuelth with His gleaming silver eyes.

“You are an idiot.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Tell me.”

“I am an idiot, oh Lord.”

~    ~    ~

 

The Talmas inhabited the brain of Abbott, its new dominion. It felt a flush of pleasure at being free, murdering prey and ending life.

It had quickly realized that the Aulusthran scum had reengineered its structure to prevent reproduction – it had tried several times before it had finally selected the most powerful human it could find and taken it.

Abbott had by far the highest capability amongst the humans that the Talmas had sensed, immeasurably higher than the Gathering worms. So now Abbott was no longer Abbott, he was an eXtraordinary host for the alien parasitoid. The Talmas controlled Abbott, bending the human's mind and body to its will, with all of Abbott's knowledge and power at its disposal.

The Talmas might not be able to reproduce but its impulses were the same. Being surrounded by the human vermin was an anathema to it. It fought its instinctive desire to slaughter everything around it. Given its emasculated form it would have to find a way to use the vermin to destroy themselves.

Abbott regarded Zuelth, his face impassive, as Zuelth bowed low.

“The infidel is critically injured oh Great Lord. He will not get far.”

“Make sure he does not.”

Zuelth turned to the Yuz-bashi next to him.

“See to it.”

The Yuz-bashi bowed deferentially.

“To die and take my place in paradise, Arzbad-Framander.”

Abbott reflected on his good fortune in finding a faction of the human vermin that were so fanatically religious and hell bent on their own demise. It was nowhere near sufficient compensation for his inability to replicate across prey, of course, but it was a boon nonetheless.

There was a bustle from the back of the group.

“Move aside, Zuelth.”

Abbott raised an eyebrow as Zuelth did indeed scamper to one side. The men bowed low as a human in a red suit pushed to the front.

“My Lord, I am Vuzurg-Framandar Xeritj, Istandar of––”

Abbott regarded the newcomer coldly.

“You dare to interrupt me.”

Abbott saw Xeritj's eyes flash. This one was clearly less used to taking orders than Zuelth. Vuzurg-Framandar Xeritj stood proudly before him.

“Oh Great Redeemer, I am Your leader of the Gathering of Truly Faithful, in this place, on this day, at this time. I have just arrived from orbit. There is much to––”

“You would serve me, Xeritj?”

Xeritj bowed his head.

“To die and take my place in paradise, oh Glorious Redeemer.”

Abbott thought Xeritj trotted out the expression as an honorific with no meaning. Xeritj's arrogance irritated him and he needed absolute control. He preferred Zuelth.

“You would die for me?”

“I wish only to exhale the spirit of man and inhale the spirit of God.”

“Then set an example for your men. Remove your helmet and slit your own throat.”

“My Lord?”

Abbott took exquisite pleasure from the look on Xeritj's face. He leaned forward.

“Do it behind me, in silence. I do not wish to hear you speak again, Vuzurg-Framandar Xeritj. Remove you helmet and cut your own throat. Prove your faith.”

Xeritj stared with his mouth opening and closing. The Gathering soldiers watched in amazement. The atmosphere was charged. Abbott was ready to act if Xeritj and his men turned against him, but he understood power politics and he wanted to see how far these imbeciles would go. He turned away.

Abbott used his all round sensing to watch Xeritj kneel down. Xeritj slowly removed his helmet and extended his filament blade, clearly hoping for some sign that his test of faith had passed. Abbott stared in the opposite direction and ignored him.

Xeritj slashed his own throat. Abbott felt pure elation. Xeritj’s blood gushed out with each heart beat, each spurt a little smaller than the last. The blood spilled over Xeritj’s neck seal and collect around his knees.

The Gathering gaped at Abbott in awe. It was hilarious. The gullible vermin were impressed by his murder of their leader by suicidal proxy.

Abbott turned to Zuelth.

“You have a ship?”

Zuelth threw himself forward.

“Yes, oh Great and Magnificent Lord Redeemer.”

Abbott raised an eyebrow. Now he was getting respect. He regarded Zuelth, who groveled piteously at his feet.

“Surface transport?”

Zuelth bowed impossibly low as he gestured toward an exit.

“A shuttle awaits outside, oh Wisest and Most Munificent Glory on High, our Beloved Lord.”

Behind Abbott, his complexion like chalk, Xeritj toppled over, dead. Abbott pretended not to notice. He strode imperiously toward the exit.

“Take me to it.”

Zuelth practically sprinted to his side.

“My Lord.”

“Tell me more of My faith here, Zuelth. Remember I am God of all worlds, not just yours.”

“Of course, most Divine and Truly Magnificent Redeemer.”

Abbott strode through the exit as Zuelth babbled beside him.

The more he heard, the better it got.

 183. 

 

 

 

 

Stone thought Havoc didn't sound very impressed.

> The coolest move of my life, Stone, and you call me an ice dancer?

> I was improvising. What are we going to do with Intrepido?

> We're going to have a chat. You might want to stay outside.

> No, I'll come in. Do you think the aliens mind?

Havoc walked through the rubble toward the cabins under the overhang.

> Mind what?

Stone looked back at the majestic alien tower. It lay shattered and broken, with its upper section stretching away for kilometers on the far side of the shaft. The central section was missing, of course, having disappeared down the gaping maw in front of them. Stone turned and hustled after Havoc.

> Oh, nothing.

Havoc approached the triple cluster ahead of them.

> Have you been in these cabins?

> Only the outer two. The right one was the blade cabin.

> Uh huh.

Havoc fired a burst of kinetics as he walked forward, blowing out the comms packages on the cabins then firing into the right hand cabin itself. This provoked an instant response from Intrepido.

> I surrender!

The airlock opened in front of Havoc.

Havoc deployed his filament blade and in one casual swipe slashed a new doorway beside the lock. He kicked the remnants away and stepped through. Stone could only see Havoc's silhouette against the light streaming from inside. Havoc looked scary even to him. Intrepido must be terrified. Served the bastard right.

Havoc stepped forward and pointed left.

> Stone, get a helmet.

Stone hustled inside. Intrepido was slumped in his seat, his hands over a line of holes in his suit.

Havoc took another step forward.

“Now you know I'm not fucking about here, Intrepido.”

“Let me use the medstation.”

“Sure.”

Intrepido pulled himself upright.

Havoc shot Intrepido through the leg. Intrepido screamed and fell back.

“After Intrepido. After.”

Stone flinched, disturbed by Havoc’s casual brutality, and opened the equipment cabinet. Intrepido lifted his head.

“So, Havoc, it seems you––”

Stone twisted away as Havoc shot Intrepido in the opposite leg. Intrepido screamed.

Havoc waited for the noise to subside.

Stone grabbed a helmet. Despite his tortured face he felt uncomfortable with where things were going.

> We're not like them, are we, Havoc?

Havoc turned to face him. His eyes were two holes ripped in the gates of hell.

Stone raised his hands.

> Ok, ok, maybe you know what you're doing.

Havoc turned back to Intrepido.

“I'm asking the questions, Intrepido. You do answers. Got it?”

Intrepido gasped.

“Yes. Please stop shooting me.”

“Big boys games, big boys rules, Intrepido. That's the phrase, isn't it?”

Intrepido squirmed in his chair, trying to hold his stomach together.

“Come on, Havoc, we're on the same side.”

“You're not on my side, Intrepido. You tried to kill us.”

“The way to respect your opponent is to give everything to beat them.”

Stone decoupled the broken seal of his old helmet and fitted the new one over his head. Havoc gestured at him.

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