Redemption Protocol (Contact) (81 page)

Zuelth stood next to the Chief Scientist, struggling to contain his fear.

The death of the scientists was horrifically graphic now that Zuelth was close by. He desperately hoped that more Gathering crew would appear so he’d have more subordinates to buffer him from the deadly plinth.

The Redeemer had given them information about mathematical sequences and solutions. Zuelth knew that he should be reviewing that information now, in case the scientists should fail. After all, he had one of the finest minds the Gathering could afford – he just hated to use it. He was a diplomat not a number cruncher.

Zuelth watched as, with an anguished cry, the Senior Scientist clawed his own face. Blood streamed from his eyes and ears. The veins on his temples pulsated and popped, spraying blood and hissing steam. His eyes half-popped out, half-burst as flames erupted from them. He gave a bloodcurdling scream and smoke belched from his mouth. He reached out toward Zuelth, not quite alive but not quite dead. Zuelth stepped back to avoid his clawing grasp and the tormented scientist collapsed to the floor.

Zuelth looked at the Chief Scientist, who looked back at him. The body of the last Senior Scientist twitched on the floor beside them.

The body stopped, dead.

Neither Zuelth nor the Chief Scientist would demean themselves by dragging it onto the pile of corpses.

Only he and the Chief Scientist remained. Zuelth tried to maintain his haughty demeanor. He nodded at the Chief Scientist to go ahead.

The Chief Scientist turned and bowed toward the Redeemer, offering his sacrifice. If the Chief Scientist hoped to get any acknowledgment for his probable imminent sacrifice, he was sorely disappointed. To Zuelth’s dismay, the Redeemer wasn't even watching. Zuelth assumed that their Glorious Lord was disgusted by their failure thus far. Zuelth, on the other hand, was praying for the Chief Scientist's success more than he’d prayed for anything in his life.

The Chief Scientist readied himself. He bowed his head to Zuelth. Zuelth aimed to sound as dismissive as possible.

“I trust you will be completely lucid when you act for our Glorious Lord.”

The Chief Scientist’s face twisted with hatred. Zuelth didn't care. His command would prevent the Chief Scientist from vening God's Glory. Some of the other scientists had stumbled to their fate looking so intoxicated that Zuelth thought they might miss the plinth altogether. Zuelth could tell from the animosity in the Chief Scientist's eyes that he’d condemned him to an agonizing death. Zuelth was content. It was appropriate for the Chief Scientist to do everything in his power to achieve success, even if he had to suffer for it. The Chief Scientist reached his hand toward the Plinth.

When he was a boy, Zuelth had boasted that he could throw a stone and strike his uncle's falcon on its perch. His friends disbelieved him. To prove his fearlessness Zuelth had flung the stone. Zuelth had turned to his friends to make a scathing remark, he couldn't remember what. He just remembered the look on their faces. He'd turned to see the falcon lying on the ground. He couldn't believe that he'd hit it. It lay there, magnificent and broken, twisting in a circle. Zuelth had prayed fervently for it to live, beseeching their Holy Father to help him. Zuelth prayed now with the same earnest devotion, pleading for the Holy Father’s intervention as he watched the sequences stream across the wall.

The Chief Scientist was already significantly further than any of the others had got. Zuelth tried to concentrate on the algebraic sequences in case he needed to go next but he couldn't. He was only focused on the outcome. With all his heart he wanted the Chief Scientist to succeed. He murmured his invocation over and over.

“God all seeing. God all seeing.”

 218. 

Ekker wrenched Weaver’s hair.

“Open your fuuaaaahhhh––”

Weaver shrieked as Ekker ripped out more of her hair before releasing it completely. She opened her eyes. Hope soared inside her as Ekker lifted away from her.

Havoc hurled Ekker backward.

Ekker crashed into the floor on the other side of the cabin, spreadeagled on his back. He raised his tricannon and Weaver panicked. Ekker's forearm disappeared, replaced by a smoking stump spurting blood. Ekker screamed.

Havoc hauled Weaver upright and pressed a weapon into her hand. Weaver felt rage surge within her as she took hold of it. She pointed it at Ekker’s face. Ekker stared at the gun. He laughed at her.

“Fuck you, you pussy.”

Weaver witnessed herself lower the handgun and shoot Ekker in the crotch. His dick blew off and a smoking hole appeared in his suit. Ekker shrieked in pain.

Weaver looked at the gun in horror. Her consciousness returned. She threw the gun down, feeling physically sick. Havoc put his arms out. She flung her arms around him as she broke down in tears.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Havoc hugged her.

“It's ok.”

“Oh my God. I thought...”

“It's ok. You're safe now.”

“I thought he was going to...”

“I know. You’re ok. Just breathe.”

She clung to Havoc. God that had been the most awful experience of her life. Ekker moaned and cried, babbling deliriously in his drug addled haze.

Weaver’s heart rate normalized. She glanced at Ekker. Ekker clutched his arm and stared disconsolately at his severed dick lying on the floor. His little dick with its distorted tattoo – it looked pathetic.

Weaver winced.

“He's hurt. He's really hurt. We should do something.”

Havoc raised his arm and shot Ekker in the head. Ekker's body twitched and died. As an afterthought, Havoc used his boot to flick Ekker's dick off to one side. Weaver jumped away from Havoc.

“No!”

“What?”

“You shot him!”

Havoc frowned.

“So did you.”

“You shot him in the head!”

“You blew his dick off.”

“I can't believe you just shot him in the head!”

“What?”

She took another step back.

“Shit. You shot him. In the head!”

Havoc looked bemused.

“Look, can we stop Abbott destroying humanity with the Diss? Then you can talk about,” – Havoc waggled his head and imitated a high pitched voice – “oh I can't believe you shot him in the head after I only shot his dick off.”

She stared at Ekker’s corpse.

“He’s dead.”

“Yep.”

She shook her head, utterly astounded.

“Shit.”

Havoc nodded toward the exit.

“Can we...”

She raised her finger.

“We need to talk about this.”

“Ok.”

She pointed at him.

“Before we can move forward, we have to talk about this.”

Havoc looked bewildered.

“Fine.”

She sighed.

“Gosh.”

He spread his hands in a placatory gesture.

“Ok now?”

She slowly lowered her hands by her sides as she exhaled, centering herself.

“Yes. I’m ok.”

Havoc strode toward the exit.

“Great, let's go.”

She was still shaking her head as she stepped over Ekker's body.

 219. 

The sight in front of Zuelth was horrific but he couldn't look away.

The Chief Scientist’s tortured voice was jubilant.

“I have it, Exalted One, I have it!”

Flames licked out of the Chief Scientist's eye sockets, orange tinged with whispers of green. It smelt disgusting.

The Chief Scientist was mouthing something, but each time he opened his mouth to speak smoke poured out and flames licked up his face. It occurred to Zuelth that the Chief Scientist was pointing. Zuelth was hypnotized as he stared at the man with his eyes burning. Only flickering holes were left in his face. The Chief Scientist toppled over backward, still pointing.

Zuelth blinked, the spell broken.

He turned to see a magnificent dais rising from the floor in front of the carousel. There was a central section covered in screens and glowing glyphs and an access panel to either side.

Zuelth breathed in prayer.

“Thank you, Divine Father.”

The Redeemer strode toward the dais.

“Finally.”

Zuelth bowed to the Redeemer. The Redeemer didn't look in Zuelth’s direction, not even once. Their Lord didn't seem to realize that His Chief Scientist had even existed. It seemed a little ungrateful, Zuelth thought. He winced inwardly and admonished himself for thinking that way about his God.

Zuelth took another deep breath as his heart rate slowed along with his rate of perspiration. He was alive and perhaps for the first time in his life, he felt truly, honestly thankful for it. Perhaps he would, himself, try to be a little more grateful in the future.

The rumble of explosions echoed out of the corridors leading south. The ORC soldiers were fighting their way toward the center.

The Redeemer did not turn from the curving console in front of Him as He commanded Zuelth.

“Summon the soldiers from the other side.”

Zuelth bowed his head, still flushed with relief from his near escape.

“My Lord.”

“And go and defend the position yourself, Zuelth, before they arrive.”

Zuelth’s face registered his shock. Be a soldier now? Was there no end to these cruel tests?

The Redeemer turned to face him. Zuelth realized that he hadn’t moved. The Redeemer's burning silver eyes were terrible to behold. Zuelth bowed hastily and beat a retreat to the south.

“My Lord.”

Zuelth passed the pile of smoking corpses as he reviewed his suit’s unfamiliar weapon systems.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

 220. 

Weaver and Havoc ran along a corridor deep inside the sprawling dome of the beam control building.

“I can't believe you nuked this place.”

“I guess you've never fought a Gathering megatank?”

“What will the aliens think of us?”

“They’ll probably get a good idea of human nature.”

“This is terrible.”

“We could tell them we were trying to stop your Diss from being released.”

“
My
Diss?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Where's Tyburn?”

“He joined up with the ORC. They're taking on the Gathering. Hopefully we can loop round to the center and slip in now.”

They passed through an opening in the wall and doubled back to curve the other way.

“You don't really think I talk like that, do you?”

“What?”

She waved her head around and squeaked.

“I can't believe you shot blah blah blah.”

Havoc laughed.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really. Can you stay back for a moment?”

“What are you doing?”

“Using something that you ought to be familiar with for its intended purpose.”

“Oh.”

She watched Havoc set up a small device on the floor.

“I bet Tyburn was pissed off when you left to help me.”

“No. When I pointed out the flares he agreed that it might be Ekker.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Havoc stepped back. There was a roaring flash and ball of fiery plasma hurtled down the corridor away from them.

She turned to Havoc incredulously.

“We're going to
slip in
now
?”

He charged off down the smoking corridor.

“Come on.”

She shouted after him.

“What would my mum say about you?”

 221. 

Weaver slowed to match Havoc’s deceleration. He gestured for her to move close behind him. They crept along the side of a passage that ended in a large archway leading into the central chamber. Ahead of them was a forest of slender columns.

Havoc sent a microdrone into the chamber. The microdrone emerged through the pillars to reveal a vast chamber with a spectacular rotating carousel at its center. Weaver was alarmed to see Abbott operating a console in front of the carousel. Bodies were strewn about the floor, mostly dumped in a pile of smoking corpses.