Dawn of the Mad (14 page)

A voice came back from
The Emperor’s Fist.
“Engagement of pulse drive acknowledged. Good luck.”

Scotts switched off the communications link and activated the pulse drive, praying that the craft didn’t disintegrate right then and there.
The Emperor’s Fist
and the surrounding stars blurred behind them as the drive kicked in. An electromagnetic beam fired from the shuttles core, and exited the ship through its external exhaust port. Deep hues of purple and red enveloped the ship as the incredible force of the beam jolted the men into the backs of their seats. The blocks of color turned into thousands of perfect lines projected in front of the shuttle. A monitor began beeping loudly as it displayed characters written in an ancient script. Scotts looked at the display but could not read it; he knew how to run the drive but not all of its details. He had no need to know, and there had been no time for him to learn. He was powerless to affect operation of the drive: either it would work, or it wouldn’t. He had been briefed that such a display would occur once the shuttle locked onto the destination, and seeing it provided some comfort to him.

CHAPTER 10

When the stubby shuttle’s pulse engines disengaged, Corporal Scotts immediately began the process of tracking the fleeing craft. Its pulse signature led to a blue planet, the third one out from the single sun in the system. Images of the planet that showed on the corporal’s monitors indicated that it was fertile and lush in flora, and largely covered with water. The planet also appeared to be heavily populated, with what appeared to be cities dotting the landscape, giving off heat signatures characteristic of urban areas.

The renegade shuttle’s pulse signature faded as the ship penetrated the planet’s atmosphere, but Scotts was able to track it to the planet’s surface. He turned away from the computer terminal, faced the colonel, and said, “Sensor sweep is completed. The computer has identified the location, but with a margin of error.”

“What is the margin of error?” the colonel asked as he unbuckled himself from his seat.

“The margin should be small, but it depends on how far we are behind the ship. The sim program indicated that tracking a pulse beam produces a time distortion effect.”

“Just spit it out, kid,” Sergeant Matthias interrupted, standing up from his seat.

“That shuttle might have an hour head start, or a few days. It’s hard to tell.”

“No matter,” the colonel said. “The data is the best we can get; we’ll have to work with it. Get the trans-mat device operational, and we’ll set up a base once we pinpoint the craft’s planet fall. Matthias will go first.

Leaving the shuttle on automatic controls, Scotts retrieved the two large, black ovoid disks of the trans-mat device from the cargo hold. He set the larger of the two disks in the middle of the steel-grated floor of the hold. He took the smaller one back to the pilot’s seat and detached a small handheld computer from its side. He began to punch buttons on it in sequence.

“All set,” he indicated a few minutes later.

He set the smaller disk on a shelf next to his seat and keyed a sequence of commands into the ship’s computer. The large disk on the floor began to rotate and whine. The top surface of the disk opened outward, spreading like a flower’s petals. A brilliant column of purplish light shot from the disk. The light column began to rotate slowly and took a funnel shape. Corporal Scotts replaced the handheld computer on the side of the smaller disk.

“Just step into the funnel,” he instructed Matthias. He handed him the smaller disk. “As soon as you arrive, you must set up this disk before the master unit overheats. Activate this switch,” he said, indicating a small switch within a black box on the side of the disk. “I’ve already programmed it; just turn it on.”

“I’ll see you on the ground,” Sergeant Matthias said nervously. As he eyed the column of light, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He stepped into the funnel of light and immediately vanished. The funnel increased its speed of rotation, and the high-pitched whine from the disk became louder. Scotts watched a monitor for a few seconds, before seeing the uplink message indicating that the slave disk had been activated. “Next man up!” he shouted, to be heard above the whine of the disk.

Cruwell stepped into the swirling light and vanished. “You’re next,” Scotts yelled to the colonel. “The unit has to cool down, or the shuttle will blow!”

“Roger that! Meet us on the surface as soon as the unit is ready!”

Scotts nodded. The rotating disk and funnel of light now generated a strong breeze inside the shuttle, lifting smaller unsecured objects into the air and spinning them in the air above the disk. The colonel turned and stepped into the funnel of light. Scotts waited a few seconds after the colonel disappeared before disabling the trans-mat device. The disk quickly powered down to a barely audible hum. As its rotation slowed, the wind decreased, and airborne objects crashed to the steel-grated floor. The disk ceased rotating in less than 30 seconds, and Scotts could see a fine trail of smoke emanating from underneath it. He ran a quick diagnostic on the disk and was pleased to see no problems.

“They should be safe,” Scotts said quietly. “I can only hope.”

CHAPTER 11

“Follow the preset coordinates,” Dr. Keitel told the shuttle pilot. He watched the pilot’s movements as he stood behind the man’s seat. “When we reach our destination, I will send an encrypted communication back to command. It is too risky right now.” The pilot nodded and continued to adjust the controls on his computer terminal. Stars appeared as continuous streams of multicolored light as the shuttle traveled through pulse space. Dr. Keitel turned around and walked toward his own seat. He had no desire to send any communication to anyone just yet, but the pilot didn’t need to know that.

The doctor gasped as he saw his experiment sitting straight up in his seat, blinking his black eyes rapidly. “What am I?” The figure spoke with difficulty, the words escaping slowly past his pale lips. The figure looked at his hands, which were devoid of fingernails, and began to slowly clench and unclench his fists. Dr. Keitel sat down slowly, confident his experiment wouldn’t unlock the seat restraints. He spoke softly, as a mother would speak to a child.

“You are my creation.”

The figure looked Dr. Keitel directly in the eyes. “I remember that I was like you before, but I died.” He began to access his fragmented memory. Scenes from his past slowly filtered in and out, but it was a difficult process. His past was filled with pain; that much he could make out.

“You were once a soldier.” Dr. Keitel paused, considering if he should say more. He continued, “You were killed in battle.”

“Yes. I think I remember. War. I remember war.”

Dr. Keitel put his hand on the figure’s arm. “You are my son now. When you have recovered fully, we will return home and bring about a glorious end to the war. Peace will finally be achieved.”

Dr. Keitel suddenly screamed out in pain and rose to his feet as his pale, black-eyed experiment grabbed his hand and squeezed hard.

The pilot turned around. One of them commanded harshly, “We are exiting pulse space. Sit down!”

Dr. Keitel continued to scream in pain until the figure released its grip. His creation spoke angrily, “There will be no peace, only war.” He grabbed Dr. Keitel’s forearm and pulled him closer. He could sense the fear inside the doctor. He could smell the flesh.

“I can feel myself getting stronger,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. He began to strain against the life belt restraints.

The shuttle came out of pulse space in the vicinity of a large planet, mostly blue from the water covering the majority of its surface. “We have arrived, Doctor,” one of the pilots announced. “Initiating stealth run and landing sequence.” He shouted the last few words to be heard over the engine noise as they reversed thrust.

Dr. Keitel collapsed back into his seat, clutching his sore hand. He faced his undead creation. “There is much for you learn. You have enormous strength and immunity. However, you must learn to control it,” he whispered in pain.

“I feel weak now.” The figure’s head dropped forward.

“You’re not fully healed. Your body is a lot different from what it used to be. It is powerful, but exercising that power uses energy.”

The copilot turned around to face his passengers. “We are preparing to land. Stand by.”

The sleek silver craft penetrated the planet’s atmosphere. The pilot and copilot looked with curiosity out the windows as they flew over an obviously populated planet. They cruised low and fast, entering the airspace over a metropolitan area rife with tall metal buildings and numerous roadways. Lights from the buildings provided some illumination, but visibility was low. Rain splashed on the craft’s windshield, forcing the pilots to rely on their instruments. Although not entirely invisible, their craft possessed a stealth coating on its airframe that rendered it nearly invisible to most tracking systems, aiding in their secrecy. The copilot pointed to a large tract of land cluttered with debris as the ship continued to slow. “There, that looks good.”

“There appears to be a landing gear malfunction,” the pilot noted. A red indicator light flashed, and the pilot tried to reset the system.

“It must have been damaged in the pulse,” the copilot countered. “Prepare for hard impact.”

The pilot nodded and eased the craft downward. Nose first; the shuttle impacted the soft soil with a dull thud, sending mud and debris into the air. The front half of the shuttle buried itself in the soft, muddy ground, leaving the rear section of the craft exposed at sharp angle.

The pilot and copilot undid their seat restraints and carefully got up out of their seats. They had to grab handholds built into the walls of the craft and find footholds because of the steep angle. Fortunately, the equipment brought on board was secured in the rear by a large cargo net, although the load now strained against it.

Dr. Keitel also got up carefully and retrieved a stasis bandage from the first aid kit for his hand. As he applied the bandage, he noticed that his creation was awake. It clumsily undid its harness and fell forward, knocking both pilots off their feet. They both crashed into the main control consoles. Dr. Keitel cursed under his breath. He thought the creature was secure; it must have seen how to open its harness by watching him.

The creature grabbed the stunned pilot by the throat. It savagely bit off a large chunk of flesh, causing the pilot to scream in agony. The copilot grabbed hold of the black-eyed assailant, but it was futile. A pistol report rang out, and the copilot’s body jerked, tumbling backward into the main window. The lower portion of the body splayed horizontally across the control console.

Dr. Keitel slowly lowered the pistol he carried in his good hand. He reached for a panel on the wall of the ship and activated the cargo door. When the door slid open, a wisp of damp air entered the craft. The figure savagely broke the pilot’s neck and tossed his lifeless body forward in the ship. It landed at the bottom of the control console. The creature’s mouth was stained red, and bloody streaks ran down its chin and onto its chest.

“Well done,” Dr. Keitel said.

The creature slowly turned to face Dr. Keitel, looking up as the doctor braced himself in the cargo door, planning his exit from the craft.

“We must disguise this craft quickly before we are discovered. Wait here and I will scout out the area.” Dr. Keitel surmised quickly that perhaps if he appeared to be cooperating, he wouldn’t be threatened. It seemed to work for the moment. The figure said nothing, just staring ahead blankly. Dr.

Keitel returned his pistol to the holster concealed in his waistband. With a little difficultly, he carefully removed retrieved two heavy hardened plastic black cases from the small cargo storage area, being careful not to undo to the cargo net. Both cases came up to his waist and weighed about 100 pounds each. He pushed both cases out of the craft and jumped out himself, landing with a grunt. Fortunately for him, the jump was only a few feet. Looking around, he saw what he appraised to be stacks of crushed metal vehicles and numerous large metal shipping containers. When he looked back at the craft, it seemed to fit in with its surroundings. As long as no one had witnessed the impact, he stood a good chance of avoiding discovery for a while. He figured that the darkness and the light rain lessened the chance of there being a witness.

He made his way inside a long metal container with the word “Hanjin” painted on the side. The inside was empty, and he quickly surmised the container would serve as a good base of operations. He quickly recovered the two black cases he had thrown from the ship and began setting up his new lab. He opened the first case, which contained several syringes filled with a bright pink liquid. Seeing that the syringes had come through undamaged, he closed the case and opened the other one. It revealed several scientific apparatus and a portable computer terminal.

Dr. Keitel hurriedly ran back to the open door of the shuttle. “Wait inside here,” he told the creature, who was leaning against one wall. “I will be back after I make an assessment of the area.” Dr. Keitel didn’t expect a response, and he didn’t get one. He closed the shuttle door from the outside, hoping his creation wouldn’t try to discover how to get out.