Redemption Protocol (Contact) (83 page)

Abbott was on him again. Havoc flared his suit as he swung the Scepter at Abbott. Abbott blinked out of existence and appeared on the pillar.

“Hah! You’re desperate, human.”

Havoc released the Scepter as he fired his last missile.

Abbott vanished to the top of the carousel.

“No!” Abbott shouted.

“Fuck you!”

Forge stood on the lip of the carousel, holding the Scepter that Havoc had just thrown to him.

The carousel shut.

Abbott howled in frustration.

“No!”

Havoc’s eyes burned.

“Jing jing, motherfucker.”

 222. 

Admiral Szabo stood on the bridge of the ORC
Relentless
, gazing down at the copper mahogany sky of Plash.

Szabo’s commanders had ordered him to put his trust in General Forge and General Forge had let him down.

Szabo had sent a team to recover what they could from the wreckage of the alien tower. They’d reported that there was nothing left under the billions of tonnes of debris before they’d been forced to lift out by the imminent sunrise.

Szabo pursed his lips. He needed to salvage whatever he could for his mission. News of an alien weapon system sounded promising. Extremely promising.

The gravatic beam emerged from the side of the planet and extended all the way to the gravitational anomaly. Szabo had an exploratory drone stationed as close as they could get to the gravitational anomaly's event horizon. They’d sent another drone into the anomaly itself but it had yielded nothing except confirmation of its fate. The drone still hung there, frozen in their instruments at the instant that it had passed over. His scientists assured him that it was long gone.

Szabo looked at the beam and frowned.

“Captain where is the beam?”

“Admiral?”

The captain irritated him. Where Szabo had a strong and honest Ikalyan accent, the captain had a foreign university education and his voice always sounded suspiciously neutral. Szabo turned his head.

“The beam? The gravitational beam, you idiot?”

The captain made a face. He hated being insulted in front of his subordinates. Szabo waited while the captain checked his instruments and reviewed with subordinates.

The captain spread his hands, his face at a loss.

“It is... gone, Comrade Admiral.”

 223. 

Weaver sprinted around the side of the chamber as shrapnel pinged across her suit.

“Come on, Weaver, let's move!” Tyburn shouted.

A deafening barrage of fire streaked across the chamber as Weaver dodged and twisted around the pillars.

Kinetic fire briefly rained down around her position. She threw herself toward an archway leading out of the chamber. A rocket exploded nearby, disintegrating a pillar. She slid through the archway, crashed into the wall and tucked into a ball. She seemed to attract less fire, perhaps because she wasn't generating any herself. She sprinted across to the more sheltered wall opposite and crouched down.

Damn, she thought. She was trapped here, outside the chamber. She could flee down the corridor ahead of her, but where would that leave Havoc? Tyburn and the ORC were laying down fire but it wouldn’t last. She knew Tyburn would abandon them. She needed a plan. Perhaps if––

Tyburn’s voice surprised her.

“Weaver, are you still there?”

Where had Tyburn expected her to go?

“Yes.”

“Can you get back here?”

Fire swept erratically across her side of the chamber.

“No, I don't think so.”

“Ok. Stay there.”

As if she had a choice.

“Sure, ok.”

The firefight continued. The noise felt like someone had ripped her ears off and was stamping on them.

 224. 

Havoc watched as Abbott tried to follow Forge, then immediately blinked back to the far side of the carousel to escape the wall of incoming ORC fire.

He smiled grimly and pulled himself upright, preparing for the inevitable attack. Abbott blinked into sixteen positions around the top of the carousel in under a second as he hurled fire toward the ORC positions.

Havoc jumped for the gap to escape the carousel. Abbott grabbed hold of him and threw him back inside. The walls of the carousel were closing. He looked up. Abbott was outside on the Gathering side, looking down at him.

“Goodbye, Havoc. It's only a matter of time. And space. Something like that.”

Abbott laughed as the walls locked into their closing position.

And stopped moving.

Havoc jumped onto one of the pillars. He saw Abbott sprinting toward the Gathering positions.

The atmosphere in the carousel chamber began shimmering. His suit glowed. He took aim with a kinetic and fired. The round vanished as it reached the wall. His suit alarms went berserk as his sensors detected a round emerging from the wall behind him. The active armor on the rear of his suit blew out, partially deflecting the shot and absorbing some of its energy. He jolted forward as the upper part of his suit's left shoulder took the impact.

“Damn.”

He wouldn't try that again.

Light spread across the chamber. The shimmering hum in the center built in intensity. Havoc moved to the side and crouched down.

The shimmering field rotated slowly. Its center glowed. It reminded Havoc of the way a tornado formed.

“Oh shit.”

 225. 

“Keep your head down,” Tyburn cast to Weaver.

Are you kidding
, she thought.

Abbott jumped down from the carousel and sprinted back to the Gathering lines. The noise of the battle was staggering. Weaver could feel the vibrations as missiles rocketed back and forth. Bodies must be piling up on both sides.

From the ORC side came an extremely bright point of light. Weaver recognized the effect. She threw herself behind the lip of the archway and tucked into as small a ball as she could.

Two flare stars hurtled round the outer perimeter of the chamber in opposite directions. Weaver screamed as white hot flames licked past her. The flare stars converged on the Gathering position and there was a brilliant burst of light. The Gathering firing stopped.

Tyburn dived through the archway and crashed into the wall. His armor was smoking in places and he carried the Scepter. Incredibly, Weaver felt pleased to see him.

Tyburn crouched in front of her.

“Are you ok?”

She nodded.

“I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Yeah, well, don't believe everything you hear.”

“Havoc?”

“Still in that thing, I think. We're falling back. I came to get you.”

“Why? You’ve beaten them, haven’t you?”

“You're fucking joking. Do you know how many of those vermin there are? And we have United Systems incoming.” Tyburn held out the Scepter toward her. “Can you target this thing?”

She stared at Tyburn suspiciously. Sporadic fire came from the Gathering side. Tyburn shook his head.

“For fucks sake, Weaver. Just hear me out. If you can, and I don't know if you can, target this planet. We need to destroy it.”

She was shocked by Tyburn’s suggestion.

“What?”

Tyburn proffered the Scepter.

“We need to destroy this planet. Plash is a superweapon. Can you imagine Hspace if someone has this capability?”

She thought about it. Tyburn watched her earnestly. A deep boom came from the Gathering side.

The ORC side erupted in a series of explosions. Weaver ducked as columns scattered like skittles, smashing into those left standing in a cacophony of piercing cracks. Smoke and dust rolled outward and enveloped the southern side of the chamber.

Tyburn's face was grim.

“Gathering megatank. Yes or no, Weaver. Just decide.”

Weaver nodded as she took the Scepter. Its crystalline structure was a deep blue so dark it appeared almost black. Half way up the circular shaft there was a section where it became a seven sided, extruded heptagon. On each of the flat panels was a tiny screen and a circular depression. Weaver hauled off her gauntlet and touched the nearest depression. Symbols flew across the screens. Tyburn watched. They both flinched as another heavy round detonated.

Weaver sat back and nodded. She had done what Tyburn wanted. Almost. She’d been a little more precise. Rather than target Plash, she’d targeted the Diss on the Scepter itself. No targeting system meant no weapon, she thought, pleased with the elegance of her solution.

“It’s done.”

Tyburn looked dubiously at the Scepter.

“We're good?”

She nodded.

“We're good.”

A barrage of rockets from the ORC streaked across the chamber, curving around the carousel and illuminating them.

Tyburn took the Scepter as they both crouched down.

“The ORC are pulling out. We need to go.”

She hesitated. Tyburn followed her gaze toward the carousel.

“He can look after himself. He's probably gone.”

“Gone?”

“Dead, Weaver. Are you staying?”

She paused, then nodded.

Tyburn shook his head.

“You're fucking crazy.”

She turned at the sound of crunching debris. A large vehicle nosed forward from the Gathering side. Tyburn moved back a couple of paces.

“I'll see you at the shuttle, ok?”

“Ok.”

Tyburn discharged nanoscreen and the cloud of glittering nanotechnology burst around the archway. Tyburn ran down the corridor, away from the chamber.

She was alone. She contemplated the nanoscreen swirling around her. She had no idea what she was doing.

There was no fire at all coming from the ORC side now.

 226. 

Abbott felt satisfied. The Diss were released. He'd been furious when the human vermin had taken the Scepter but on reflection it would work just as well. Now the humans had the Scepter, he felt certain they’d use it. On themselves, of course. They were too primitive to resist.

Besides which, it wasn't as if there was only
one
Scepter. Abbott smiled. The vermin wouldn't know that. But he did.

The ORC position on the far side was eliminated. All he needed to do was withdraw the Gathering and make sure none of the human scum could access the beam control building again.

He turned to Zuelth.

“Withdraw the men. Destroy this place. Nuke it to slag.”

Zuelth looked shell-shocked in his scarred suit.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Abbott marched away. Religion was always a bonus but the Gathering civilization was an absolute gift.

He grinned as he stepped over the dead bodies.

 227. 

Havoc clung onto the silver pillar for dear life, hugging it with his arms and legs.

Above him the swirling ball of energy spun and twisted, growing and shrinking as it relentlessly sucking him upward with tremendous force. He was clawed by gusts as the vortex spun faster and faster. The very fabric of reality foamed and boiled around him. Parts of his suit hummed and blew out. The noise in his head was deafening. He felt like he was being force fed a thousand liters of water a second.

He couldn't sustain it. He was being dragged slowly upward and he couldn't fight it. He couldn't get enough purchase on the silver pillar. The tidal wave of energy poured over him. He hung on as hard as he could, edging slowly upward.

He didn't have long. He wasn't going to make it.

 228. 

Weaver waited for a minute. The Gathering seemed to have gone. The chamber was eerily quiet after what had gone before. It felt empty but was it safe?

She stepped out. She felt like a mouse sneaking to take some cheese. She edged her way through the columns.

Nothing.

The chamber was devastated. The damage and debris was thrown into sharp relief by the waves of light emanating from the revolving vortex inside the carousel. Weaver grimaced. She couldn't imagine anyone could be alive in there. She remembered that the carousel dropped five meters inside. There might be a chance.
Do something
, she thought. She threw caution to the wind and sprinted to the console.