Stars Rain Down (30 page)

Once everyone was safely on the ledge, Jack took a good look down and the scale of it struck him with a splash of vertigo. He had a tingle at the back of his knees and a sloshy feeling in his stomach, and then it was gone.

"Hustle up," he said, moving away from the ledge. "Let's get this done and get out."

They scurried down the tunnel and fifty meters later, it opened into a round room full of golden light brighter than midday.

Jack shielded his eyes and looked for cover. From what little he could see, the room was filled with circles of alabaster columns, and pieces of equipment whose shape he could hardly make out.

The team moved in, ducking behind one column and then the next. Jack's eyes adjusted to the light quickly, and his movements became less frantic. He was reasonably sure they were alone.

"It's a damn sauna in here," Trash grumbled.

Albright said, "No kidding. Seems we found the furnace."

Jack waved the team forward, and idly wondered if they'd find a monster shoveling coal at the center.

The columns were staggered, providing plenty of shade from the direct light, and soon the team reached the innermost columns where the heat nevertheless grew unbearable. Jack had just started thinking about how to proceed when their amazing luck struck again.

They heard the clothes-washer warble of a flyer, then ducked down into the shadows and did their best to fade into the woodwork. Moments later, a set of eight monks came walking by, their robes shining like glittering gems in the fierce, burning light. As with every other set of monks, they kept their heads down and marched by obliviously.

"I understand the robes," Albright whispered to Jack. "Betcha those guys are nice and cozy with all that heat reflecting off 'em."

Jack was sweating profusely. "Wish I'd known that earlier. I feel like a Christmas goose."

Then Jack heard something from the center of the room, and it sounded like absolutely nothing else in the world. Countless warbling tones were layered atop one another, each warping the sounds around them. It was a choir of songbirds singing in chorus through a collection of transforming distortion pedals. If Jack didn't know better, he'd think only a synthesizer could produce a sound so starkly unnatural, so beautifully beyond comprehension.

When he peaked out from behind his column, he saw something even more perplexing than the sound: the eight monks stood around the center of the room where a miniature sun floated in mid-air surrounded by a cage of the glowing orange cables.

The red-orange ball had grown darker since Jack and his team had arrived, and it was now dim enough to look at directly. It slowly rotated while small tongues of flame arced out from its surface.

The monks had their arms raised toward the tiny sun, like refugees in a war torn land crying for someone to take them away. Their synthesizer sounds grew louder, and the sun darkened in response.

Then the noise stopped and the monks lowered their arms, slumping down as if energy had been sucked right out of them. They stood there in silence looking at the ball of fire, then turned, headed back to their craft and left.

"What the fucking hell?" Jack asked.

Albright shook her head. "I don't know, but I wish I had a Geiger counter. Something tells me we shouldn't stay in here longer than we have to."

The sun pulsed, throbbed, and slowly brightened.

The demolitionist had a thoughtful look on his face. "If that's a fusion furnace," he said while scratching his head, "this might just work, chief. We take out its containment and the whole reaction goes out of control. Kablooey! Everything in a hundred klicks is black fertilizer."

"Jack..." The tone of Albright's voice spoke volumes.

"I know," he said.

Trash said, "We gotta get a move on, chief."

Somewhere in the past, Jack was sitting in a packed room full of new recruits. He was lost and angry. "Will we engage civilian targets?" he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be.

"We don't have all day," Trash said urgently, and the insistence in his voice dragged Jack back into the present.

His head was a jumble of thoughts and swirling emotions. Two images kept assaulting him: one a fresh memory and the other a vision of the future yet to come. The rhino child's bright eyes held hope for tomorrow, then was snuffed out by a white-hot explosion that left nothing behind but a scorch mark.

"We're aborting," Jack said.

"What?" Trash barked at him.

"It's one thing to take out their power. Deal a blow to their infrastructure, but this... I won't commit genocide."

"Genocide? Try fucking justice." Trash reached into his pack and pulled out his det packs. "If you don't have the nuts, I do."

Before the last word came out of Trash's mouth, Jack drew his pistol and leveled it square at his head. "I'd sooner kill you than let you do this, Corpsman."

"What's your malfunction, Jackie?"

Trash continued preparing his packs, and Jack took it to the next level. He flicked off his safety, took a long step forward and pressed the barrel flush against the other man's skull.

"We're corpsmen, God damn it. We're better than this. Now put it away before I end you."

Trash gritted his teeth and stared uncut hatred back at him. Then he put the packs away.

Jack lowered the gun and everyone started to breathe again. "This isn't how we operate. Not ever. No matter how many of us they kill, we don't turn into monsters."

Trash looked like he could puke bullets, but he didn't test Jack's threat, and it was the right decision. Jack wasn't bluffing. He'd remembered what he stood for, and why he stood for it.

"So what now? We just bend over and take it? Watch them wipe out the last of us?"

Jack still had the gun in hand, and it felt heavier than he remembered. "No. We fight and survive, but we do it right. Military targets and infrastructure only. I'd rather die by my virtues than live like this."

The moment was over, and everything was calm again in the circular generator room. Trash had a twisted grimace on his face, but he dutifully zipped his pack up and slung it back over his shoulder. The insurrection was over.

Jack returned his handgun to its holster. At the same moment, the light in the generator room turned a deep cabernet red while the innermost ring of columns slid across the floor, forming a gapless barricade around the small sun. Then a low cry like a giant horn howled across the blue city, and none of that seemed like good news.

"What's going on?" Trash's demoman asked.

Jack's voice had an edge as sharp as a knife. "We've been found out." He'd followed his conscience, and his luck immediately turned to shit. He didn't know what message the universe was trying to send him, but he was sure he didn't like it.

Jack rushed back out the entry tunnel and his people followed. He stopped several paces short of the cliff, and when he looked out over the city, he could already see the enemy on their way. Swarms of flyers cut through the air traffic, heading straight for them. All the while, the howl of the giant horn never stopped or faltered.

"What do we do?" Trash asked.

There were too many unknowns, and Jack did his best to process them. He could lay a trap with the explosives and try a pitched battle in the generator room, but there was no way to escape. The enemy outnumbered them by the millions, and would wear them down eventually. It might give Charlie and the others a chance to clear out, though.

The closest flyer was still more than a minute away. "We run. Back down the wall!"

No one needed to be told twice. Each drew their rappelling hooks, latched onto a handle, and dropped over the edge feet first. Their arrestors whined, and with each stop, the team grabbed new handholds, retracted cable and reattached, only to repeat the process again and again.

By the time they hit the ground, flyers were circling the generator room above and were starting to search in widening circles.

Charlie came out of the shadows with Nikitin and the others in tow. "What the hell did you do up there?"

"Not sure," Jack said, "but they're on to us."

"Ya think?" Nikitin spat sarcastically. "So what now?"

Jack had come to a decision during the trip down, one he didn't particularly like but it was still better than the alternatives. It was a bad plan, but it would get his people out and that was the only thing that mattered.

"Trash," he said, "I need your det packs."

"Why?"

"Now."

Trash dug the pale bricks and detonators out of his pack and tossed them to Jack, who stowed them away. "Put on the robes and stay hidden until you hear the first one go off. Charlie, you take everyone back out the way we came. Meet up with the others at the rendezvous and just keep going."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Jack said with resignation. "I'm gonna go raise a ruckus."

Charlie immediately got in his face. "Don't be stupid, Jack. We're all leaving."

"That ship sailed," Jack said, "and you damn well know it. If they don't find anyone here, they'll start looking outside... then we're all fucked. This way, you all have a chance. Now follow my damn orders."

"Yeah, and no one's going to notice there's only seven of us?"

Jack shook his head. "No one counts very well when bombs are going off."

He was ready to punch his little brother in the mouth, but it didn't come to that. Charlie nodded his head solemnly and started handing out the robes. "You heard the man. Put 'em on."

When Jack turned to Albright, she unshouldered her rifle. The doctor was a five-foot commando again. "I'm with you."

Jack walked over to her, took her in his arms and kissed her. Every inch of her was tense, but she melted and then it seemed to last forever. Jack pulled away, and said, "Like hell you are."

"But I..."

"They need you, Lisa. And I need you to survive. It's what I do."

She was stunned, but Jack would never budge. He could sacrifice his own life if he had to, but not hers. Not now.

He gave her one more gentle kiss on the forehead and said, "I'll see you again. I promise."

And he was gone before she could say another word. Jack ran hard, his feet pounding tiled floor, and the taste of her still on his lips.

He flew out from their hiding spot and circled the generator tower for a ways, then turned and bolted off into parts unknown.

Jack came to his first stop fifty meters on. He pulled a putty-like demo pack out and attached it to a shack, then jammed a detonator inside. He set the timer for ten minutes, set his alarm to go off fifteen seconds before, and took off running again.

He hit a residential sector, pulled the rifle from his back and started to yell. Crowds of aliens ran away in terror, like a tiger had escaped from the zoo and was rampaging through the streets.

"Get down!" he yelled as he began to fire. He aimed high to avoid the bystanders, and his rounds sparked impotently off the stalagmite buildings. The weapon's loud bark had the desired effect, sending the innocents scattering in every direction, and he continued running right on through.

He didn't bother to look over his shoulder. There was no need. The cyclic sound of the flyers overhead was enough to let him know he had their attention. Another few paces on, he heard soldier rhinos grunting and galloping, and he knew the ground forces were onto him as well.

The residential area gave way to a market, and Jack's howling madman routine turned heads wherever he went. Crowds parted before him like the sea before Moses, and he sprinted on, driven by an endless supply of adrenaline.

Jack decided to explore. He loped up a ramp to the catwalks that branched in the air, forming an elevated part of the city with buildings and signs scrawled in yet more unfamiliar characters.

Then the game got interesting. As he progressed, more levels appeared above which prevented the flyers from continuing their pursuit. While he no longer had to worry about air support, he now spotted rhinos stampeding in his direction from every corner. Escape routes closed off all around him.

Jack heard a skittering noise behind him and instinctively hit the deck just in time for a jackrabbit to go flying overhead. The small creature yelped when it missed him, and clawed at the floor as it slid away.

He turned his head back and saw two more of the fast creatures after him. Both leaped into the air at the same time, and with a spin, he dodged one and flung the other off the catwalk onto the ground floor below.

"Toro!" He shouted, before sprinting off once more.

Option after option disappeared, forcing his choices until he found himself on a long bridge with no offramps, and nothing nearby but empty air. Enemy forces moved into position on either end. They'd snared him.

He fired a couple rounds toward the far end as a warning, and the enemy ducked back. Then he turned and opened fired on his pursuers, sending them scattering. He stopped when the magazine ran dry.

"Now what?" he asked himself.

The alarm on his watch went off and an idea sparked in his head. It would require pinpoint timing, and it was the most dangerous and stupid thing he'd ever considered. He worried that it might just work.

Jack pulled a second demo pack out, drove a detonator into it and set the timer for fifteen seconds then dropped it in the middle of the catwalk. The whole process took him no more than five seconds.

With his rifle quiet, the enemies at either end of the bridge started moving forward, and Jack flicked his head back and forth to watch both groups advance. When they were thirty meters off, a loud, hollow boom registered in the distance. That was his signal to move.

All eyes turned toward the explosion and Jack made good on the opportunity. He pulled his climbing hook out and hurdled the guard-rail, barely managing to latch onto it as he flew over, then plummeted toward the ground.

The arrestor slowed his descent, and he released the hook when he was near the bottom, then dove across the ground. At the same time, the catwalk above exploded and the entire bridge collapsed in a billowing cloud of dust.