Warden's Vengeance Page 29

  Back on his feet, and able to move freely again, he turned a full circle. Kreon was on his knees close to the Portal, fishing around inside a backpack. Tris put a hand up to feel for straps, only then noticing that his bag was gone. Luckily, it had come through the Portal with him; he must have wriggled out of it in his struggle.

  “Loader is intact,” Kreon announced, holding up the bag. One strap was severed, the material and padding melted. Tris put a hand to his back, finding the place where it had rested; his suit felt damaged there, too. Kyra moved around him for a look, and swore.

  “What is it?”

  “Looks like you had a close encounter,” she said.

  Kreon’s eyes were bright behind his faceplate. “You fought one of the denizens from beyond the Portal? Can you describe it?”

  Tris shied away from the memory, and he could already feel the details of it leeching from his mind. It was just too nebulous, too ephemeral, to adequately explain. “Not in words,” he admitted. “But it was big.”

  “How big?” the Warden pressed.

  “I dunno. Big as… everything. I mean, it filled the whole space, and when it moved, it practically crushed me. I didn’t see it for long, but I sort of got the impression that that’s all there was. Like… a big fish in a small pond.”

  Kreon studied him, then turned his attention to Loader. “Have you any sensor data to corroborate Tristan’s observations?” he asked.

  “The realm we entered obeys a different set of physical laws to our own,” the talos drawled. “We were immersed in an evenly-distributed liquid medium, which behaved as though no gravity was in effect. Pressure was constant; locally variable but comparatively homogeneous on a larger scale. Light was diffuse, its direction impossible to extrapolate. Different wavelengths penetrated the medium to various degrees, but none were reflected. However, the nature of such an omnipresent fluid indicates a strong probability of the region being finite and bounded.”

  “Yes, very interesting,” Kreon snapped. “But what of the beings that attacked you? Were they analogous to the Black Ships? Were you able to discern anything of value about them?”

  Loader gave an odd bleep, which Tris interpreted as frustration. “Inconclusive. However, I detected only one entity in the vicinity; it was biological, though of unknown origin or structure. The scale of the creature is its most defining trait; though impossible to accurately calculate, my estimates place its size at several orders of magnitude greater than a typical solar mass.”

  Kreon gasped, drawing back as though stung. “Could that be it?” he asked.

  Tris was fairly sure it was a rhetorical question.

  “Could it be?” Kreon continued. “That this… thing we are seeking, this devourer of worlds, is not a fleet of ships, but a single, living entity?”

  No-one answered him.

  But a sobering thought was growing in Tristan’s mind. If he’s right — if this is just one gigantic monster — then we have absolutely zero chance of fighting it.

  He looked at Kyra, and saw a similar realisation dawning on her.

  I’ve a horrible feeling this galaxy is fucked, he sent to her.

  I’ve a horrible feeling, you’re right.

  Tris declared himself fit to move, and Kyra slapped an emergency patch on his suit just in case.

  With nothing further to be learned from the towering doorway, Kreon hung Loader’s backpack from one shoulder and led them back to the lift.

  Tris was so glad to leave the presence of the Portal he jogged the whole way.

  As the lift doors slid shut on the brooding edifice, he slumped back against the wall of the car and sighed in relief.

  “You have my eternal gratitude for this,” Kreon promised, as the elevator dropped back towards the lobby. “You were gone for so long that I began to fear the worst.”

  “Really?” Tris was still a little hazy on the details of his trip, but it hadn’t felt long. “I guess I did get a bit carried away. I didn’t want to come back empty-handed, and at first there wasn’t much to see. But when I turned around, the were Portals everywhere! Dozens of them. If they all work…”

  Kreon was listening keenly, absorbing every scrap of information with a fascination bordering on lust. “Do you remember anything else?”

  “Only that there were no bodies. I expected there’d be piles of bones at least, from all the people that went mad in there. But there was nothing.”

  Kreon was silent for a second, as the lift car came to a halt. “Given the nature of the entity you encountered, I would imagine the bodies have been eaten.”

  The doors opened and the Warden limped out, leaving Tris fighting off fresh chills.

  In the lobby, not far from the giant bronze doors, Àurea and her captains were standing in a wide circle. They must have been using a private frequency, as Tris couldn’t hear what was being said.

  He walked past, skirting the group, and found a piece of rubble big enough to perch on. Kreon had gone straight over to involve himself in the discussion, but Tris was still feeling shaky. Kyra came and sat with him, lost in her own thoughts for the time being.

  Tris cast his mind back, trying to recall as many details as possible from his ordeal. The memory of that cloying, suffocating liquid came back right away, and with it the incredible cold. He couldn’t remember at what point he’d decided to flee, but up until then he had a fairly solid grasp of what he’d seen.

  Ruins… of an ancient temple? Or something, anyway. And more Portals than he could easily count, assuming that’s what they were. They certainly looked the same, though perhaps a few had been bigger. There had been no order to them that he’d been able to notice, but he felt as though some piece of the puzzle was still eluding him. Some realisation that stayed stubbornly beyond his grasp.

  Ah well. All that stuff can wait. I survived the trip, and that’s all that matters for now. Kreon and Loader can go to work on the data once we get through this uprising. Well, assuming we do get through the uprising…

  Àurea was gesturing now, he noticed, and the assembled captains were reacting to her. It was almost comical, like watching people at a silent disco. He wondered if she was giving a suitably rousing speech. Victory or death!

  Then something changed.

  It was like an electric current ran around the room. One moment they were all facing Àurea, miming a cheer; the next they turned and ran, each person reacting differently to something only they could hear.

  What the hell?

  “Kyra! Tris!” Kreon snapped over their intercom. Tris leapt to his feet, recognising no good in the Warden’s tone.

  “We are under attack. I’m patching you into the Ingumend network.

  There was a loud click in Tris’ ear, then three voices came over the comm all chattering at once.

  “—coming in too fast!”

  “—solitary craft at high velocity—”

  “—weapons locked, permission to engage?”

  Tris grabbed his rifle, dashing over to meet Kreon. Kyra was right beside him, her own rifle at the ready.

  “A single ship is attempting to run the blockade around the planet,” Kreon explained, as he led them towards the doors. “The Ingumend forces are about to engage it.”

  The giant doors were mobbed with vac-suits, as forty-odd officers ran for the exit. Tris joined the exodus, waddling in the ungainly suit, and found himself back outside a moment later. He craned his neck to study the sky, though of course from this distance even the biggest ships were visible only as tiny pinpricks of reflected light.

  “Engaging,” a deep male voice boomed from the comm. A smattering of curses followed in a variety of accents, as others on the same channel followed the action.

  “It’s a shuttle,” someone else said, “non-military. Repeat, that is an unarmed shuttle you’re shooting at.”

  “No code reply,” a female voice countered. “Uninvited guests are not welcome here.”

  “I need a sit-rep!” Àurea’s voice cut th
rough the confusion, and the welter of chatter died down immediately.

  “Ma’am, we have a single shuttle on approach,” a young-sounding man replied. “It doesn’t appear to have weapons, but it’s approaching at top speed. No communication yet, but if we don’t stop it now it’ll be in spitting distance before you can say ‘missile lock’.”

  Àurea’s response was cool and collected. “Listen up: I want that shuttle disabled. Take out the engines, and keep re-sending the code. Full sensor sweeps; I want to know if they can hear us and not respond, or if they’re deliberately stalling. But do not let them approach the planet at all costs.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Tris couldn’t help thinking the lad sounded younger than him.

  Kreon was staring at the sky too, as were the majority of the captains. A few had set off back to their ships, obviously preferring to be ready in case the order was given to fight.

  Tris eyed the shuttle they’d arrived on, a ramshackle mining escort they’d been left with after the exodus from the Pit. “Should we go?” he suggested. “They don’t need us to finish their meeting.”

  “Not yet.” Kreon adjusted the rucksack on his shoulder. “I would prefer to make a second visit to the data crypt below the temple. I am convinced we left vital information behind on our last visit, and a more complete picture could be instrumental in choosing our next course of action.”

  Tris looked at Kyra, and she pointed at the sky with her rifle. “If these guys can’t handle one poxy shuttle, they sure as shit can’t conquer Helicon Prime!”

  Tris was inclined to agree — but the timing of this was bothering him. He remembered his strange lapse back on the Folly’s bridge; this meeting could easily be compromised, given the number of people who knew about it. What if the Keepers of the Faith had decided to wipe out all their enemies at once by sending a bomb?

  Surely Àurea and her captains would have thought of that?

  He hoped so. Because the time for warning her was long passed.

  As though summoned by Tris’ thoughts, the comm crackled with Àurea’s voice. “Ensign Lantz! Status report? I need to know what’s going on up there.”

  “Yes ma’am,” the young lad replied. “I’ve signalled Commander Drakan to open fire.”

  23

  Tris held his breath, hanging on the next words to come out of the comm.

  Something was very wrong here. He was sure of it.

  “Direct hit on the engines!” The deep-voiced man was back. “Shuttle is not slowing. Firing again… Engines destroyed!”

  Tris clenched a fist in triumph. It was like following a football match on the radio, only with hundreds of lives at stake.

  “They’re not slowing,” the female voice reported. “They’ve acquired too much momentum.”

  “Permission to destroy the shuttle?” the man boomed. “It will reach our position in a few seconds.”

  Àurea came back on, sounding resigned. “Destroy it.”

  “Confirmed. Targeting the shuttle… Direct hit! Hull damage. Shuttle is still in motion. Firing again…”

  “Yes!” There was no mistaking the glee in the woman’s voice. “You got him!”

  “Negative! Weapon launched, repeat; the shuttle has launched a missile!”

  “It’s headed to the planet!” The woman was distraught. “Ingumen, ma’am, you have to evacuate!”

  “Target the missile,” Àurea replied, not loosing her cool. Tris could almost feel her disdain; the crew up there were far from the trained elite she’d been hoping to lead into battle. Almost anyone with any combat experience was probably on the ground for the meeting.

  “Missile destroyed!” The deep-voiced man sounded jubilant.

  “No, no!” his colleague insisted. “You missed!”

  “Firing again… direct hit!”

  “Missile is still inbound…”

  “Nothing stops it!”

  “All ships, fire at will!”

  Tris grabbed the fabric of Kyra’s suit. “That thing is coming here. We have to go, now.”

  “Relax, kid,” she said. “If it’s going as fast as they say, we’ll never make it to the ship in time.”

  “But…” Tris glanced around at the captains, many of whom were now scrambling towards their own shuttles.

  “No effect!” the deep voice announced. “Our weapons are having no effect! Oracle ground team, prepare for impact.”

  “Not if I can help it!” The woman snarled.

  “No! Hera! You’ll be—”

  “Can it, Drakan! This one’s for all of us. Give my regards to Helicon Pri—” and her transmission cut off in a burst of static.

  “NO!” the anguished shout told Tris all he needed to know.

  Another sacrifice for the cause.

  “Hera’s gone,” the man reported, disbelief in his tone. “She took the full brunt of the impact, and she— wait!”

  “What is it?” Àurea snapped, mirroring the tension Tris was feeling.

  “The weapon’s not stopped, ma’am. It carried on straight through. Impacting the planet in ten… nine… eight…”

  Tris stared upwards, but couldn’t make out the drive trail of the missile. Beside him he felt Kyra tense, and knew she was aiming her rifle skyward. There was no chance she could hit a missile, especially one they couldn’t see, but she’d refuse to die without a fight.

  “Inside!” Tris yelled, suddenly remembering the temple. Its walls were massive blocks of stone; it had already survived the attack which destroyed the rest of the planet. “Now!” He flung himself back up the steps, but the massive bronze doors seemed impossibly far away. For the second time today he was faced with the knowledge that he couldn’t reach his target in time.

  Shit! Should have left sooner!

  He glanced upwards, expecting to see a brilliant light or hear the scream of thrusters.

  Instead he saw a dark mass hurtling towards him, laser-light winking off it as the massed defenders opened fire.

  Bolts glanced off the thing, and Tris braced for impact—

  But it never came.

  Looking up from beneath his arm, he saw a blaze of fire converging from all directions. Whatever they were targeting was completely obscured by the barrage, but unless they were shooting at thin air, the weapon had stopped.

  Tris aimed his pulse rifle and snapped off a few volleys, wondering if the combined fire had a chance of stopping whatever it was. His mind threw back pictures of the Planet Forge; an alien terraforming device that Kreon had discovered deep underground on a planet far from here. It didn’t explode on impact, like a missile, but it was still capable of killing them all.

  Kyra had backed up the stairs, her rifle contributing to the storm of fire, and Kreon too had begun to retreat. Tris glanced over his shoulder; they were almost close enough to the temple to dash inside. Whether or not it would protect them was anyone’s guess, but they’d find out soon enough.

  “Kyra!” he made to grab her suit again, meaning to drag her the last few steps into cover—

  When something dropped from the centre of the fireball and slammed into the ground at the base of the steps. Tris felt the tremor through the stone blocks, and swung his rifle down to aim at the new target—

  Only to stare in shock at the glowing blue being that faced him.

  It was made of glass, or it seemed to be; its transparent depths were alive with energy, as millions of tiny light-pulses raced through it like fireflies on steroids.

  A steady blue shimmer reasserted itself as the light show faded, leaving Tris staring at something vaguely humanoid, but blatantly alien; a tall, translucent figure with stumpy wings jutting out from behind its shoulders. Every facet of the thing gleamed, like a statue carved from solid sapphire.

  Tris had his rifle aimed directly at it, but the moment of wonder stole his desire to act. Blasting away at something so beautiful — and so seemingly fragile — was more than he could bear.

  The creature took a long step
forward, its crystalline legs moving smoothly as it came to the foot of the steps. And gazed up.

  Right at Tris.

  Are those eyes? He couldn’t tell, but a cluster of glittering buttons were trained upwards.

  Not on me… on Kreon!

  And then, just as Tris was getting ready to shout a warning, the creature spoke.

  The sound that came over his comm unit was a spine-chilling screech, like fingernails down a blackboard. Pings and cracks made a halo of noise around the words, which made the hair prick up on the back of his neck.

  - YOU ARE ANAKREON - WILL GIVE CHILD -

  Tris stared in disbelief, unable to tear his eyes away from the gleaming blue creature. No more laser blasts flew towards it; evidently the thing was broadcasting so that everyone could hear.

  Kreon stood at the top of the steps, pulling his grav-staff from the back of his suit. “Why are you here?” he asked, challenge ringing in his voice.

  - HERE FOR CHILD - ONE CALLED LOADER -

  Kreon tucked the backpack containing the talos further behind him. “Then I regret to inform you that Loader is not available. Would you like me to take a message?”

  - CHILD IS HERE - WILL TAKE NOW -

  “Really?” Kreon tried a different tack. “And what precisely are your intentions for my colleague?”

  - WILL SAVE PEOPLE - WAKE ALL UP -

  Tris felt his blood run cold. The thought of that cavern, filled to bursting with near-indestructible robot bodies…

  Enough to take over the world. To take over all the worlds.

  “That is not something he will be able to assist you with,” Kreon replied.

  - CHILD HAS KNOWLEDGE - ONLY ONE LEFT -

  “Why do you believe that Loader can achieve this, if you cannot?”

  - SOLDIER NOT SCIENTIST - CHILD AWOKE ME -

  “No,” Kreon corrected the being. “It was I that awoke you. And I will gladly offer myself in lieu.”

  - HUMAN NOT REQUIRED - WILL TAKE CHILD -

  “Loader is not your child.” Kreon held his grav-staff like a talisman. “And you will not take him.”

  - KILL ALL HUMANS - THEN TAKE CHILD -