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Authors: Mike Freeman

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Redemption Protocol (Contact) (68 page)

BOOK: Redemption Protocol (Contact)
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 172. 

 

 

 

 

Alerts lit up in Jafari's mind's eye.

> We have visitors, Ambassador.

> I see them.

Gathering soldiers filed in to the amphitheater as if they were entering a religious service. Their body language was reverent and their faces were awestruck as they gazed around the chamber. One reached out and tenderly touched the wall of the colonnade.

Jafari watched the Gathering advance toward the double helix staircase. He relaxed a little as they knelt down before it.

> I think we’re ok, Ambassador.

> Very good, Jafari. Not long now, I think.

The Gathering continued to trickle in over the next few minutes.

In time, twenty three Gathering men knelt at the base of the left stair case, unevenly arranged in eight rows.

Jafari smiled wryly. Everything in the Gathering was strictly hierarchical. The suit markings indicated that the men nearest the staircase held the highest ranks. Jafari wondered about the job of the poor guy on his own in the eighth row.

At random intervals the three men in the front row would fling themselves forward to prostrate themselves and, like a rippling wave, those in the rows behind them would follow suit. Each row remained in a supplicated position a little longer than the row in front of them. The guy at the back hardly had a chance to look up.

Jafari watched Arzbad-Framander Zuelth waddle in like a giant duck and make his way past the others. The men already present began bowing so frequently it looked like Zuelth's presence was generating a standing wave. Presumably Zuelth was getting some credit for the Nmr Qátl stationed on the altar overhead.

Zuelth and an aide made their way up the spiral staircase and joined the party on the disc platform, where they stopped.

Jafari smiled.

Zuelth wanted to be close, but not the closest.

 173. 

 

 

 

 

Havoc raised Stone toward the surface through thick clouds of dust. The turbulence was rough but more manageable than before. Strangely the tower collapsing seemed to have, at least temporarily, knocked the weather into a more stable state.

Havoc cupped one hand loosely around the cable as he jetted upward. He'd clipped Stone to the chest of his suit, facing outward, so that he had his hands free. Stone’s jaw might be a bloody mess but he was managing to communicate just fine. After thanking Havoc for saving his life, Stone had moved on to more immediate matters.

> My face! My fucking face!

> You'll be ok.

> Have you seen it, my face, Havoc!

> Yes.

> Can you believe they did that to me! I mean, can you––

> Stone.

> I just––

> Stone, shut up.

> But––

Havoc monitored their surroundings carefully, senses alert for the next inevitable attack.

> Man up, Stone. So you lost half your face. It wasn’t much to look at anyway. He did you a favor. Now will you please shut the fuck up?

Blessed silence.

He approached the lip, scanning. Intrepido would have something left, he knew it. He just hoped the alien tower had landed on it.

Stone cast to him.

> Sorry.

> You ok?

> I'm ok.

> You sure?

> I’m ok.

> Good.

> Thanks.

> No problem.

> I just...

> I know.

> Ok.

> Here.

> What's that?

> A little hytelline. It isn't over yet, Stone.

> What could possibly be worse than having your face ripped off? And I'm not moaning, by the way.

Havoc slowed, scanning as they neared the lip.

> Saskia's dead.

 174. 

 

 

 

 

Jafari steeled himself.

The halo was so near to the bottom of the column of light that the altar and the Nmr Qátl soldier were lost within it – only the Nmr Qátl’s hands penetrated the top of the halo like the tines of a fork.

Abbott cast to Jafari and presumably the historical record.

> What a glorious moment in our history.

Jafari watched carefully. It was exciting and terrifying. He wondered what was going to happen.

The Gathering soldiers at the base of the staircase flung themselves forward, their visors scraping the floor, apart from four of their number who were so mesmerized that they forgot to bow. They were raised up like snags in an otherwise smooth carpet.

An alarm lit up in Jafari’s mind’s eye.

> We have the ORC incoming, Ambassador.

> Force only in self-defense, Jafari. An absolute last resort.

> Understood, Ambassador.

ORC troops jogged in three abreast and circled around the outside of the chamber. There was nothing that Jafari could do to prevent their entry without killing most of the people in the room. Abbott was right – violence didn't seem appropriate in the circumstances. Fortunately, the ORC captain seemed to agree. He raised an arm to bring his troops to a halt as he marched briskly toward the double helix staircases.

The ORC soldiers looked around, surprised by the lack of resistance. They clearly hadn’t expected to burst in en masse and be ignored.

The Gathering soldiers paid them no attention whatsoever.

The ORC captain contemplated the Gathering then swung round to look at Jafari. Jafari raised a hand in greeting.

“We have three Tier-1 civilizations present already. I’m hoping we can do this without bloodshed.”

The ORC captain stared at him for a long moment then nodded.

“I agree.”

The ORC captain issued instructions and ORC soldiers hustled toward each of the main entrances. The rest of the ORC troops took up station on the opposite side of the staircases to the Gathering.

The ORC captain and a subordinate made their way up to the disc platform. Jafari thought the ORC captain’s timing was either impeccable or disastrous, though he didn’t know which yet. The ORC captain reached the platform just as the descending halo reached the bottom of the column of light.

The halo brightened and vanished.

The room held its collective breath.

A transparent capsule lowered through the column of light on a slender cable. There was some kind of gas inside the capsule that made it hard to see the humanoid, if that was what was inside. Presumably the gas emulated the creature’s natural habitat. Jafari wondered if the alien would leave the capsule. Maybe it needed to stay inside to survive. Maybe it would be too scared to leave.

The capsule stopped next to the altar.

The capsule started to open.

 175. 

 

 

 

 

Intrepido monitored the surface around the shaft. He had the G6 in position and numerous microdrone sensors deployed. He swallowed. If Havoc got past the G6 he had nothing left. But the very idea of Havoc beating the G6 was ridiculous. Still, he felt something that he never usually felt.

He felt scared.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

~    ~    ~

 

Tyburn sat in the shuttle reviewing the battlespace.

“No confirmed kill. Goddammit.”

“He’s a fucking cockroach,” Ekker said.

Tyburn considered the situation. It was Havoc versus the G6 prototype. Tyburn stroked his chin as he reviewed the encounter around the towers. Havoc’s survivability seemed extraordinary.

“Intrepido? You ok?”

Intrepido’s voice was a dry croak.

“Yes.”

Tyburn raised an eyebrow. Intrepido swallowed and tried again.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let us know when you take Havoc out and we'll pick you up.”

“Ok. Will do.”

Tyburn cut the connection and turned to Ekker.

“Is the cabin nuke slaved to Intrepido's vitals?”

“No.”

“Do it.”

Ekker nodded.

“Done. If he goes, it goes.”

~    ~    ~

 

Havoc surveyed the lip above him as he sent three microdrones flying over. Dust shrouded everything, obscuring his sensing. Beside him, Stone wasn’t reacting well to news of Novosa’s death.

> Fucking hell, Havoc! Talk about kiss slap kiss.

> Sorry.

> Are you sure she'd dead?

> Spare me, Stone. We haven't got time.

> Fuck.

> Stone, where's the shuttle?

> What?

> The shuttle, where is it?

> Far side of the hook platform.

> It wasn’t when I arrived.

> You noticed that? Do we have any reinforcements? I mean...

> No. It's you and me.

> I don't have a gun.

> You don't have a helmet.

> I don't know. Where the shuttle is, I mean.

> Forge is gone.

> You think any of them are still here?

> Intrepido, maybe. He probably didn't have time to leave. Or he didn't know Forge was gone. A squad of platforms left while I was on final approach. It must have been them.

> Are the reactors still there? Next to the shuttle?

> Gone.

> Gone? How can that be?

> The ORC.

> I still can't believe what that fucker did to my face.

> Stone.

> Sorry.

> Ok, Stone, get ready. I'm going to throw you over the top. I want you to run around waving your arms. Try to attract as much attention as you can and I'll try and snipe anything that takes a shot at you from down here. Good luck. You ready?

> What the fuck?

> Kidding, Stone, just kidding.

~    ~    ~

 

Intrepido wanted to take a drink from the water bottle across the table but he was too focused on his instrumentation. He didn't want to miss anything. He blinked as he wiped his brow again.

There was a flutter as one, two, three microdrones were deployed over the edge of the shaft next to the platform. Havoc had arrived.

Intrepido’s microdrones were all stationary and sensing passively. Havoc's microdrones glowed on his sensors.

Havoc rose over the top. Intrepido’s heart fluttered. Havoc's suit looked trashed. Intrepido’s hands flexed with excitement. Havoc turned, scanning, then pulled Stone over the top. Stone's face looked a mess.

Havoc hustled them into cover, partially sheltering behind the base of the hook platform, and used a filament blade to free Stone's arms.

“Come on, Havoc. Come to me.”

Havoc advanced into the open.

“Very good.”

Intrepido bracketed Havoc's movement options, making assumptions about his jetpack and jump capabilities. His mouth was dry. He licked his lips.

Havoc and Stone moved toward the cabins through the rubble. The atmosphere was heavy with dust. A thick layer covered everything. Havoc moved smoothly ahead of Stone.

Stone didn't want to get too far behind and kept scooting up behind Havoc. Havoc stopped and waved Stone back. Intrepido tensed.

“Come on. Come to me.”

Havoc advanced again. Intrepido’s fists clenched and unclenched.

Would Havoc see it?

~    ~    ~

 

Havoc stood next to Stone, sheltering by the hook platform. The wind clawed at them. He thought Stone looked like shit.

Stone leaned back against the base of the platform shaking his head.

> Thank God for that. I am never, ever, going down that fucking hole again.

> Let's go, Stone.

Havoc moved across the rubble, scanning around him. His microdrone caught a glimpse of the cabins at the top of the slope. He assumed the cabins had been positioned set back under the overhang because they provided adequate shelter. With Forge, nothing was certain. Maybe the whole cliff was rigged to come down.

The wind was building back to its previously atrocious levels. The dust was horrendous, swirling around and blanketing everything. Despite that, the horizon was appreciably lighter – it would be dawn soon.

Havoc had three sixty vision and could see Stone coming too close.

> Stay back, Stone. At least five meters.

> Ok.

BOOK: Redemption Protocol (Contact)
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