Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) (24 page)

Chapter 35

Thankfully, in the end, they didn’t try to take Maker into custody again. Instead, Browing asked him to hang around for a bit while he and Dr. Chantrey discussed what he’d told them – just in case they had further questions. In the meantime, Browing invited Maker to make use of a guest suite in order to wash up.

The room turned out to be very nice, but fairly less luxurious than Maker had imagined guest quarters to be in the consulate. He took a quick shower, contemplating everything he had been through in the past twenty-four hours: the jwaedin, the Vacra, the surgery he’d performed.

He was exhausted, and it was more than obvious. The shower had revitalized him a little, but not enough. These thoughts flitted through his mind as he got dressed. He could always take a stim shot (or better yet, get something from Erlen – who was sleeping in a corner of the room – that would perk him up), but the truth of the matter was that, like the Niotan, he really needed to rest. He cast his eyes towards the suite’s large, inviting bed.

Maybe he could lie down for just a few minutes…

***************************************

An unrelenting musical chime woke Maker up, pounding its way into his skull. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and that the chime was the suite’s comm unit, located on a nightstand next to the bed. Erlen, already awake, was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at him.

“No, thanks,” Maker said sarcastically to the Niotan. “I’ll get it.”

He reached over and activated the comm. A moment later, an image of Dr. Chantrey’s head appeared.

“Glad to see you’re up,” she said. “We debated waking you, but decided it was better to let you recuperate.”

“You really shouldn’t have,” Maker said, probably more seriously than he intended once he noticed how long he’d been asleep: nine hours!

Maker leaped off the bed. “I need to get back to my squad asap.”

“It’s okay,” the doctor said. “Browing sent them a message, told them you were conked out and that we’d send you on your way as soon as you woke up.”

“How’d you know I was asleep anyway?” Maker asked.

“Room sensors,” she said. “We like to keep an eye on some of our more distinguished visitors. Based on your breathing pattern, heart rate, and some other stuff, it was clear that you were catching forty winks.”

“Well, I’m done winking,” Maker said. “Erlen and I will be out of your hair in two minutes.”

“That’s fine,” she said in understanding, “but before you go there’s someone you should see. Can you meet me in the medical wing?”

Maker agreed, then dashed from the room without even disconnecting the comm link. A few minutes later, he was in the medical wing, standing outside the recovery room of the man he’d operated on, talking to Dr. Chantrey and Browing.

“We’ve been able to find out who he is,” Browing was saying. “His name’s Solomon Planck. He was the chief scientist on the derelict you found.”

“I knew he was related to that ship in some way. Those raggedy clothes we found him in – it was the same uniform we’d seen on the dissected bodies in the derelict’s sick bay.”

“He’s still not in great shape,” Dr. Chantrey said, “but he’s finally conscious.”

“Can I talk to him?” asked Maker.

“Sure,” Dr. Chantrey said. “He’s actually been asking about you.”

Maker, Erlen, Browing, and Dr. Chantrey slipped into the room. Planck, now clean and looking infinitely better, was lying in bed. He turned his heads towards the door as his visitors entered.

Planck smiled and struggled to lift his hand towards Maker.

“You’re the one who saved me, I take it,” Planck said as Maker shook his hand. “Hard to tell since you were in that armor before, but I recognize your friend.” He inclined his head towards Erlen. “His image was on your breastplate.”

“Yes,” Maker said, his mind flipping back to the scene at the cave. Now he realized what Skullcap had been looking at just before the Vacra charged him – the likeness of Erlen engraved on his armor.

“–ving my life,” Planck said, bringing Maker back to the present.

“That’s what Marines do,” said Maker with a smile. “The insectoids we found you with… can you tell us anything about them?”

Planck’s face twisted in an odd way, displaying numerous emotions at once: fear, distrust, hatred, and more.

“The Vacra,” he finally said. “Evil, vicious creatures from some world we haven’t seen yet.”

“Do you know how long you’d been with them?” asked Maker.

“From what your people tell me, it’s been about four years, but it feels like it’s been ten times longer.”

“I understand. Do you remember how you came to be captured by them?”

Planck looked nervous for a moment, his lips suddenly sealed. It took a few seconds for Maker to recognize the problem.

“It’s okay,” Maker finally said. “We know all about the sub rosa ship you were on.”

Planck seemed relieved. “To be honest, I don’t know how it happened. Some way, they were able to get on board, secretly, and from there they gained control pretty quickly. After all, we were scientists for the most part, not soldiers.”

“How did you survive?”

Planck looked pained, then closed his eyes before replying. “By making myself valuable to them, giving them what they wanted. I helped them incorporate the sub rosa tech into their arsenal.”

Tears came out of the corners of Planck’s eyes, running down towards his ears due to the position he was lying in.

“It’s okay,” Maker said supportively. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Planck said in disagreement. “I just chose to live.”

“Regardless, don’t worry about that now. What more can you tell us about the Vacra?”

“They’re a lot like other insectoids. Hive mentality. Focus on the group rather than the individual for the most part. Warmongers, constantly staging raids on other species. A lot like army ants from Earth, if you want to know the truth.”

“What about Skullcap?” Maker asked. When Planck gave him a confused look, he quickly added, “Uh, the one with the deformed arm.”

“Oh,” Planck said, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh! Him!”

He began laughing weakly. After a few moments, he regained his composure.

“I’m sorry,” Planck said, smiling. “Skullcap! That’s a great name for him.”

“But what do you know about him?” asked Maker.

“He’s the leader of this particular expedition.”

“So, does he have some kind of rank or position?”

“He does, but it’s not like human beings. With us, a person may have certain natural attributes, but he usually gains knowledge and a skill set associated with a particular subject, whether it be sports, the military, business, what have you. If he’s good at what he does, eventually he may be promoted to a job with more power and responsibility. With the Vacra, it’s a little different.

“In insect colonies, everyone typically has their roles established at birth. Queens are born to be queens and nothing else. Drones will always be drones. Soldiers can only be soldiers. There’s no change in roles, no promotion, and so on. What you are at birth is what you’ll always be.”

“What’s that have to do with Skullcap?”

“Your friend was born to be a leader. That’s his role in the Vacra hierarchy. Do you understand? He’s
literally
a natural-born leader.”

Maker took a moment to process this before moving on.

“The bomb that was attached to your spine,” Maker said. “You knew about it. That’s why you didn’t want to come with us.”

“It was a bomb in my back! Of course I knew about it. It was a method of keeping me under control.”

“Why didn’t they set it off after we captured you?”

“They didn’t need to. The bomb had a proximity sensor and a timer. If I went too far from the ship for too long a time…Boom!”

Maker raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“But the Vacra can be fairly single-minded. After they put it in me, they simply assumed I was under control, so they didn’t closely monitor my activities unless they needed me to do something. Thus, over the years, I was able to figure out a lot about the explosive and tried to construct a device to jam the signal should they ever try to activate it. But it was only partly complete, so I didn’t think I could leave yet.”

“And we dragged you away from there,” Maker said.

Planck nodded tiredly. “Yes, but apparently it functioned well enough to buy the time needed to remove the explosive.”

The conversation, while helpful, was obviously taking a toll on Planck. He didn’t seem to have much more to add about the Vacra, so Maker exchanged a few more pleasantries with him, and then everyone left so the man could get some rest. He’d been through quite an ordeal. (Before they parted ways, however, Planck did pass on that – shortly after Skullcap lost his arm – the Vacra completely destroyed the sub rosa ship.)

Outside his room, Maker turned to Browing and Dr. Chantrey.

“You see now why I wanted to blast the Vacra to bits, and then blast the bits into atoms,” Maker said. “Surgically implanting a bomb into another sentient being? This kind of behavior is” – he was tempted to say inhumane, but of course, the Vacra weren’t human – “uncivilized. Barbaric. These are monsters we’re dealing with.”

He waited for some type of response from the doctor or Browing, but neither said anything.

“Well, my squad and I have done our part,” Maker declared. “Mission complete. We’re leaving this rock. Call us if you decide you’re serious about dealing with the Vacra.”

With that, Maker turned and left, followed by Erlen.

Chapter 36

Maker was happy to see that nearly everything was packed up and loaded into the dropship by the time he returned to camp. About the only thing left were a couple of sleeping tents – his own and that of the two women, who were in the process of taking theirs down.

“Glad you made it back, el-tee,” said Diviana. “I was afraid you might have gone back by the Pit for one last hurrah with Talla.”

“Talla?” Maker repeated with a frown.

“The one with the orange feathers,” Diviana said. “She swore she’d never been tickled like that in her life.”

She gave him a wink and started to laugh as Maker felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Diviana was about to say something else when she suddenly gasped and turned, looking out towards the desert.

Maker, sensing her change in attitude, followed her gaze. He saw nothing but featureless dunes.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s someone out there,” she replied.

Maker looked again. He didn’t see anything. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Diviana’s reply was unequivocal. “Yes.”

“She’s right,” Loyola chimed in. She moved over next to Diviana, staring in the same direction and pointing. “I see them, too. A lot of them, closing fast. Vacra.”

Maker tapped his comm. “We’ve got inbound! Fierce, get the dropship ready to take off! Everyone else, prepare for assault with heavy weapons!”

There were acknowledgments from everyone, and then Wayne spoke.

“Sir, I’m not picking up anything on the visual,” he said.

“They’ve got some kind of stealth suits,” Maker said, flashing back to what he’d seen on the derelict. “But Diviana can feel them and Loyola, somehow, can see them.”

“Their suits are only hiding them across the visible light spectrum,” Loyola stated. “They’re perfectly clear on other wavelen–”

Loyola yelped in pain and put a hand to her forehead, and across the comm Maker heard similar cries from the rest of his squad. In his own head, he felt an enormous pressure, like a migraine suddenly building up.

“Diviana!” he yelled. “They’ve got a psychic! Get a mind shield around everyone! Now!”

Diviana gave a curt nod and Maker ducked into his tent. A second later, he was running towards the dunes with an odd weapon – something like a rifle, but with a larger-than-normal barrel.

“Wait!” Diviana cried out. “I can’t shield you if you go too far!”

“Forget about me! Focus on the others!” Maker replied as he ran, Erlen at his heels. “Loyola, how far out are they?”

“About a hundred yards in the direction you’re facing,” she said.

After about fifty feet, Maker came to a stop. He adjusted the controls on the weapon, then raised it and fired.

There was a puff of smoke from the weapon as a large projectile went flying from it. A moment later there was a massive explosion about thirty feet directly above the area where Loyola had indicated the Vacra were. A large mass of dark, viscous fluid splattered all over the entire area.

Maker smiled, hustling back towards where the rest of his squad (minus Fierce) were gathered next to Diviana and Loyola.

“What was that?” Adames asked.

“Large-scale paint bomb,” responded Maker. “Typically used in target practice and war games, but today… Well, take a look.”

They all glanced in the direction he’d come from. Oddly enough, the desert seemed to have come alive. A large portion of the area Maker had fired over was covered in dark paint, and – almost completely covered by the dark liquid – a number of figures seemed to be wriggling.

From their vantage point, it looked to Maker’s group like some kid had dumped ink on a pile of ants. Dressed in their battle armor, the Vacra could now be seen and – thankfully – engaged.

“Fire at will!” Maker said.

His squad spread out, putting distance between themselves, and for a minute it was a turkey shoot. They didn’t make the mistake that the Vacra had at the cave, trying to take down armored combatants with small-arms fire. Instead, they relied on the heavy weapons that Maker had called for at the onset of the attack – high-intensity lasers and such. Thus, they were able to target and take down the Vacra at will, who were not only visible but seemed to be so covered with paint that they couldn’t see well enough to pinpoint Maker’s group. Even Wayne’s little robot Jerry got in on the action, zipping forward and firing little bolts of electricity at their enemies.

Maker kept his eyes peeled for Skullcap. Unfortunately, none of the Vacra in the assault party appeared to be him.

Suddenly, Diviana stopped firing and turned around, so fast and aggressively that it shocked Loyola and Snick, who were to either side of her.

“To the rear!” Diviana shouted, and then started firing.

Less than concerned about the paint-covered Vacra before them, Maker and the others turned around. He couldn’t see anything, at first, but then he noticed a mass of footprints appearing of their own accord in the sand about a hundred feet away. Another group of Vacra had been approaching them from behind.

Maker hit the ground, rolling over as weapons-fire ripped into the sand around him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He’d fallen for one of the oldest plays in the book. He’d not only gotten wrapped up in the distraction that the first party of Vacra were obviously meant to be, but he’d cockily thought that they’d win this fight without even breaking a sweat.

Skullcap hadn’t been with the first party of Vacra. That meant…

An explosion suddenly went off in front of the second wave of Vacra, sending body parts flying as battle suits were blown apart and thrusting a huge cloud of sand into the air. Maker recognized the report of the weapon that had fired: Adames’ grenade gun. It had bought them a little time, but would be useless as the Vacra closed in, as likely to harm friend as foe.

He thought about another paint bomb, but he’d only loaded one projectile into the paint gun, and he wasn’t about to waste time running into his tent for another.

He glanced in the direction of the Vacra. His eyes went wide with surprise at the sight before him. He could see them! (Or rather, as the sand from the grenade explosion fell around them, he could make out their charging forms.)

Maker wasn’t foolish enough to let his group get pinned down between two sets of armored foes when they weren’t in their battle gear – even if one band of enemies was covered in paint.

“Everyone to the ship!” Maker screamed, getting to his feet.

No one had to be told twice. Everyone in Maker’s crew was on their feet and charging towards the dropship as soon as the words were out of his mouth, firing as they ran.

Maker was about halfway to the dropship when he was blindsided and tackled by a brick wall. All of the air went out of his body in a giant whoosh as Maker hit the ground. His training took over and, despite the pain, he rolled and came up with his gun drawn. No one was there. Or more accurately, there was no one there he could see.

But Maker didn’t have to see who it was. He knew.

Skullcap.

Maker fired his weapon, randomly shooting wherever he thought his adversary might be. After a few seconds, something rapped his gun hand painfully and he dropped his weapon. As he stood there nursing his injured hand, the air shimmered just a few feet in front of him, seemed to glow for a second, and then the light faded. Standing in front of him, holding his lance (which is probably what he had used to knock Maker’s weapon away), was Skullcap.

He still wore the same armor for the most part. The odd skull was still melded to the helmet, and the others were still around his neck. About the only difference Maker could see was that the armor had been refitted to accommodate the stunted arm he now sported.

Skullcap motioned with the lance, making a come-hither gesture that Maker recognized as a challenge.

“Alright,” Maker said, pulling the vibro-blade that he’d taken from Kepler from a sheath on his hip. “Let’s get it on.”

Suddenly, Skullcap twirled the lance over his head and they began.

It wasn’t really a fair competition, to say the least. Skullcap had a height advantage, a reach advantage (thanks to the lance), and he was armored. However, Maker was pretty sure that the concept of “fair fight” would be considered an oxymoron under present circumstances.

That said, Maker did a more than adequate job of defending himself. Being unarmored, he was faster, more nimble than his opponent, able to step out of the way of a blow or run in for a cut almost at will. The problem, of course, was that Maker’s blade couldn’t penetrate Skullcap’s armor. Even worse, the longer the fight went on, the more tired Maker would get. And as he got tired, he would start to slow down. And if he got too slow, he wouldn’t be able to avoid his adversary’s lance.

After about a minute, Maker knew that he needed a way to end the fight, and end it quick. By now his squad was probably already on board the dropship. He considered running to join them, but had no doubt that Skullcap would cut him down from behind.

Maker watched Skullcap closely, looking for an opening. It took a wild swing by his opponent with the lance for Maker to see it, but when he did, he wasted no time.

Skullcap’s deformed arm was obviously an oddity among the Vacra, and whoever had modified his armor to account for it had done a poor job. Beneath the arm was a small space where the armor did not fit perfectly.

Seeing this, Maker stepped in, lifted the arm (which appeared feeble and lacked strength) and jabbed the vibro-blade into the gap he’d seen.

Skullcap screamed. His body jerked reflexively, and Maker went flying through the air.

All the wind went out of his lungs as Maker hit the ground. He lay there for a moment, then tried to rise but only managed to prop himself up on his elbows. Taking stock of his surroundings, he was surprised to see that he had landed not too far from the ship. Glancing back to where he’d been tossed from, he saw Skullcap gingerly pull the vibro-blade from his side, then let the bloodstained weapon drop to the ground. With menacing stride, he advanced on Maker, swinging the lance so ferociously that it whistled through the air.

Realizing that the fun and games were over, Maker tried to move, but found himself too exhausted. A second later, Skullcap stood before him. The insectoid pulled the lance back, preparing to run Maker through.

Suddenly, the Vacra convulsed. Maker watched, fascinated, as little arcs of electricity danced across Skullcap’s armor. Without warning, the insectoid dropped to his knees, and Maker saw what had saved him: Jerry. The little robot had sent a bolt of electricity through the Vacra.

Unexpectedly, Skullcap swung behind him with the lance. It struck Jerry with tremendous force, sending the robot tumbling backwards along the sand, pieces of his metal frame flying loose.

Skullcap stood up and turned his attention back to Maker, who began scuttling backwards along the ground like some mad crab. It did little good; there was no way he could scramble faster than Skullcap could walk. Still, he was nearly to the ship when Skullcap swung.

Maker rolled right, the lance missing him by inches and digging into the sand. Skullcap yanked it out of the ground and swung again. Maker rolled left, the wind from the lance rustling his hair as it bit into the ground right next to his head. Maker didn’t know if Skullcap was toying with him or had genuinely missed, but there was only one way the game was going to end. Skullcap pulled the lance from the ground and raised it up again.

At that moment, a giant shadow fell across Maker, and he heard a noise like a thunderclap sound directly in front of him. Maker blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Standing over him, one leg to either side of Maker’s waist, was Fierce. His hands were joined together over his head, palm-to-palm, and between them was Skullcap’s lance.

It was blatantly obvious what had happened. As Skullcap had swung the killing blow, the Augman had stepped in and caught the lance mid-strike. Now, the Vacra pulled in vain, trying to free it from Fierce’s grip. However, the Augman’s genetically enhanced strength was too great.

Without warning, Fierce changed his grip, grabbing the lance in one powerful fist. Then he yanked on it, hard, snatching it out of Skullcap’s hand. The Vacra was thrown off-balance but didn’t fall.