Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) (25 page)

BOOK: Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1)
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Fierce stepped forward and began twirling the lance in his hand; Skullcap stepped back defensively. Fierce took another step forward and the Vacra matched him, taking an additional step back. And so they continued, with Skullcap retreating to avoid the weapon in the Augman’s hand and Fierce advancing, but twirling the lance far faster and more elaborately than Skullcap had done. It spun in his right hand, like a pinwheel, then he passed it to his left, behind his back, over his head…

Skullcap pulled a firearm from near his abdomen, but he had barely gotten it clear of the holster before Fierce smacked it with the lance, sending it flying. And all the while, the lance never seemed to stop twirling.

“El-tee!” someone screamed from behind Maker. He looked back and saw Adames and Loyola at the doorway of the ship, firing from inside.

“Get in!” Adames yelled.

Maker had been so engrossed in the interplay between Skullcap and Fierce that he had practically forgotten that he was still lying on the ground in a very vulnerable position, and enemy combatants were still around.

He scrambled to his feet and dashed inside, hardly daring to believe his good fortune. When he glanced back out, he saw Fierce running back to the ship, still holding the lance in one hand and some familiar items in the other.

“Lieutenant,” Fierce said, extending his hand as he stepped aboard, “I believe these belong to you.”

Maker held out his hand and Fierce placed his sidearm and vibro-blade in it.

“Thanks,” Maker mumbled as he put the weapons away. “That was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like what you did out there.”

“Well, just because Augmen don’t like to fight doesn’t mean we’re useless in battle,” Fierce said.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” replied Maker. “What happened to Skullcap?”

“Tripped over his own feet and fell,” Fierce said. “Then he hit some button on his suit and vanished.”

Maker ground his teeth in frustration at the thought of Skullcap getting away. Of course, it’s not like Fierce would have killed the insectoid, but still…

“Who’s at the controls?” Adames suddenly shouted, interrupting Maker’s thoughts.

“Me!” yelled Diviana.

“Let’s roll!” Adames cried out.

“Incoming!” Loyola suddenly screamed. Maker glanced out the still-open door and saw a Vacra aiming something that looked like a shoulder-mounted cannon with a barrel six inches in diameter at them. There was a boom as the Vacra fired, and Maker saw an exhaust trail as the projectile wound its way straight towards the dropship doorway.

Faster than Maker would have believed possible, Fierce stepped outside the vessel, putting himself directly in the path of the oncoming projectile, which appeared to be a small missile about the length of a man’s hand. In his mind’s eye, Maker saw what the next few seconds would bring: the approaching missile would strike Fierce, blowing him to bits. The concussive force would batter the dropship, and probably everyone in it. They’d all end up dying out here in the middle of an alien desert.

To Maker’s great surprise, none of that happened. When the missile got close, Fierce – with a speed and agility no normal human could match – actually reached out and grabbed the damn thing in his fist. Still in motion, he spun in a circle and then flicked his wrist upward, letting the projectile’s jets take it into the sky. Moments later there was a dull boom as the missile exploded above them and Fierce jumped back inside.

Diviana wasn’t waiting around to give the Vacra another shot. Loyola and Adames were still in the process of closing the dropship door when she put the ship in motion, zipping up and forward as fast as the ship would go.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they left the camp – and the Vacra – behind. There were a few smiles exchanged. And then everyone began excitedly talking all at once.

Maker smiled to himself. It was like this after almost every battle – the euphoria of coming through a deadly skirmish alive.

“Lieutenant!” Diviana shouted, getting Maker’s attention.

He worked his way to the cockpit, where Diviana was flying and Wayne was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat.

“You rang?” Maker asked.

“I need a destination,” Diviana said.

“Mission’s over for us. We can head back to the
Mantis
, I guess, see if we can get authorization for Captain Henry to take us home.”

“No can do, sir,” said Wayne. “You were probably too busy to notice, but the dropship took on some damage back there. Thankfully, somebody had the foresight to add some extra plating in key areas.”

Wayne winked at him, and Maker remembered requesting the younger Marine’s help with bulking up the dropship’s offensive and defensive capabilities.

“It would have been nice to have some guns on this puppy, too,” Maker said.

“Not enough time or people to do both, so I made a command decision and went with the idea that we’d be better served if the ship was able to take a punch.”

Maker nodded in understanding. “The best offense is a good defense.”

“Exactly,” Wayne agreed. “She’s still good enough to zip around the planet in at the moment – just not spaceworthy. Not until we make some repairs.”

“Alright,” Maker said. He turned towards Diviana. “Let’s head to the consulate. They have their own ships there and should have anything we need to fix this old girl up.”

“Yes, sir,” said Diviana.

Maker was making his way back to where he’d been sitting when he noticed that Wayne had left the cockpit, following him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Wayne whispered to him, “but that device you asked for? It’s ready.”

He handed Maker a small metal square with a flip-up top. Maker opened it; inside was a button – a trigger – that was clearly intended to activate something. Maker closed the top again.

“That was fast,” he said to Wayne, who nodded. “You must have started working on this the minute you left my tent.”

“Actually, I started working on it as soon as you asked me about it – back on the
Mantis
.”

Maker’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but he said nothing.

“I know I said I wasn’t interested at first, but I love to tinker and, well, nobody had ever asked me to make anything like that before.”

“So you started working on it,” Maker concluded.

“Just for fun,” Wayne insisted. “I mean, I thought it would be a challenge to work on for a while – until I got my next real assignment. I never intended to finish it.”

“But then you changed your mind about it,” Maker said.

“Actually, after that thing with the jwaedin, I changed my mind about
you
,” Wayne corrected. “So when you asked me about it again, I was happy to do it.”

“Thanks,” Maker said. “This is just what we needed.”

“No problem,” Wayne said. A moment later, he nervously added, “Just, uh, be careful with that, sir. Please.”

“I will,” Maker assured him. “And as things stand now, I doubt I’ll ever have to use it.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed on that,” Wayne said, then headed back to the cockpit.

Maker sat and took a moment to look around at his crew. They’d all made it through a tougher-than-advertised mission in essentially one piece. It had been a long time since he’d felt success on this level. The way his last mission had ended, with just him and Erlen–

A sudden feeling of dread came over Maker, like some otherworldly spirit had wrapped its icy fingers around his heart. He fought to keep panic out of his voice as he stood up.


Where’s Erlen??!!
” he screamed.

 

Chapter 37

 

The dropship came in fast, approaching the consulate at a speed that was more suited to an out-of-control vessel than one under the command of a seasoned pilot. Maker, having replaced Diviana in the pilot’s seat, would have gone even faster had the ship been capable of it.

As they neared their destination, Maker saw a sleek craft leave the consulate roof, taking off for space.

“Browing…” Maker muttered in anger, recognizing the man’s ship. He gripped the controls of the dropship so tightly that his knuckles turned a bloodless white.

Immediately upon noting Erlen’s absence, they had doubled back to the campsite. It had been about twenty minutes since the battle, but the camp was deserted. The surviving Vacra had fled, taking their fallen comrades with them. Erlen was nowhere to be found. (They had, however, made a quick stop to retrieve what they could find of Wayne’s little robot, Jerry.)

Everything had pointed to the Vacra having the Niotan. Maker had briefly considered going back to the Vacra cave, but every cell in his brain told him that place would be deserted. Moreover, he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was of the essence.

The insectoids had come into their camp and taken the Niotan hostage. How had the Vacra even found them? And immediately upon asking himself that question, he knew the answer. A minute later, they were heading towards the consulate as fast as possible.

Now that they had arrived, Maker set the ship down almost carelessly in his haste, rattling the teeth of his passengers and frightening the maintenance personnel on the roof.

“Wayne,” he called out, “how long will it take for those repairs?”

“I can probably get it done in a couple of hours,” came the reply.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Maker told him. “Everybody else, give him a hand.”

The rest of his squad filed out. A moment later, Maker heard Adames arguing with some of the consulate personnel about prioritized use of equipment, requisitioning supplies, proper authorization, and a bunch of other related matters.

He turned his attention to the comm panel, opening a channel to Browing’s ship. To his surprise, the man answered. He appeared on the dropship’s comm screen, Dr. Chantrey next to him, as always.

“Lieutenant Maker,” Browing said with a smile. “Always a pleasure. What can I do for you?”

Maker’s brain bubbled over with questions that he wanted to ask, but in the end he settled on just one.

“Why?” Maker asked.

“Can you be a little more specific?” Browing asked. “Why what?”

“The Vacra,” Maker answered. “It was you who told them where to find us, right?”

For a second it looked as though he might deny it, but then Browing sighed and said, “We’ve been dealing straight with each other recently, so let’s keep all the cards on the table. Yes, it was me who told them where you were located.”

“I knew it,” Maker muttered. “You were the only one I told where our new camp was – you and the good doctor.”

Browing glanced at Dr. Chantrey, who looked upset. “Don’t blame her. I’m the one who did it.”

“Again, why?”

“It was a trade-off, Maker. The Vacra wanted your little pet, so they approached us with a deal: everything they pulled off the sub rosa ship in exchange for Erlen.”

“How do you know they even have it? That ship could have been raided long before the Vacra ever got there and set that trap for my team.”

“As a goodwill gesture, they gave us some of the stuff from the ship,
gratis
. It was the real deal.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd, that they’d give an entire ship’s worth of irreplaceable – probably invaluable – cargo for Erlen?”

Browing shrugged. “Back on Old Earth, some guys once traded an entire island for a bunch of beads and trinkets. We can’t figure out foreign cultures within the human race on many occasions. Don’t even try when it comes to alien species. Sometimes they just want what they want.”

“But didn’t it even occur to you to ask?”

“Sure. The translation wasn’t perfect, but it appears that Erlen is like an ancient enemy of their race or something. They’ve actually been looking for him for years – at least since your little run-in on the derelict ship, and, based on how you say you got him, perhaps even before. Getting their hands on him is like getting crowned king of the universe for them.”

Maker shook his head in nigh-disbelief. “So why go through this entire charade? Why pretend like you needed us to find them and all that jazz? Why not just hand Erlen over to them gift-wrapped right at the start?”

“Trust me, it was considered. If they’d had their way, the Vacra would have shown up at Ginsberg where you’d buried yourself the past few years, taken your pet, and blasted anyone who got in their way.”

Maker started to feel odd vibrations permeating through the ship. (Presumably the repairs were under way.) He ignored them, focusing instead on getting answers.

“Fortunately for you,” Browing went on, “we can’t have alien ships entering Gaian Space and attacking our worlds at their leisure. Sets a bad precedent.”

“Still, you could have sent in a contingent of Marines, given them orders to take Erlen and shoot me dead if necessary.”

“Two problems with that. First, the Vacra were insistent that Erlen be delivered unharmed. Any kind of assault ran the risk of him getting hurt or killed.”

“And the second issue with a raid on
Casa de Maker
?”

“Kroner. For whatever reason, he’s got your back. He’s really not a player, but has enough connections and knows where enough of the bodies are buried to cause problems.”

“So you came up with a plan to have me deliver Erlen to them myself. A fake mission to a world in the Beyond, where people get killed all the time.”

“Yes, although again you’re talking like these were plans I personally came up with. I’m just a guy following orders.”

“So why have us jerking around in the desert for days on end? Why all this clandestine crap with fake allies and contacts and so on?”

Maker reflected briefly on the ambush that had been arranged by Quinzen, whose plan he now figured had been to let the Vacra in his suite kill Wayne and Maker, and then take Erlen captive.

“Again, Kroner,” Browing answered. “If you’d arrived here and gotten your ticket punched the first day, he would have been suspicious. However, a couple of days is just enough time to get in trouble around here – especially hanging out in places like the Pit.”

“So this has been nothing but one gigantic setup – the long con.”

“That’s an apt way to put it,” Browing said with a nod. “For the record, though, even though the bigwigs felt your death would be an acceptable casualty, I’m personally glad you made it.”

“Thanks,” Maker said sarcastically. “That really means a lot to me.”

“No problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ve got to board the
Mantis
now and then rendezvous with the Vacra for the full exchange.”

“Browing, you’re making a mistake. The Vacra can’t be trusted.”

“That may be, but again, I’m just a guy following orders.”

BOOK: Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1)
2.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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