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Authors: Stephen B. Pearl

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War of the Worlds 2030 (23 page)

BOOK: War of the Worlds 2030
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Chapter Thirty
The Gamble

“Last session, if all goes well,” remarked General Flanders.

“Yes. General, thank you for making me stay with this. Doctor…um…Colonel Green was, is an extraordinary man. Touching his mind has been one of the finest experiences of my life.” Major Joans settled on the interface couch.

“He's a hell of a friend, son. God's speed to you.” The general stepped back as the nurse started the IV.

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 11:10/ 3/7/2034

* * * *

“Major.” Zane closed the door and took a seat in the small efficient lab.

“What is it?” Richard sat behind a computer set on the workbench that circled the wall at waist height.

“Doc, do you think Janis and Ash are…”

“I don't know. Intel says the
Darmuks
have kept some humans alive as slave labor. We can hope, but…Zane, she's very pretty and there are very good odds none of us will survive to the end of this. Do what feels right. Janis would understand.”

“Wow. Like, Doc, how'd you know?” Zane stood and moved to the work surface at the side of the room. What looked like a sword with a hollow core lay in a vice. A variety of electrical components were scattered around it.

“Candy was asking about you earlier. I never suspected a porn actress could actually have a brain. Just goes to show how we all have our bigotries. That girl is one hell of a secretary.”

“Thanks, Doc. What the hell is this?”

“It's something of a side project. Ashley and I took up fencing a little prior to the invasion.”

“Yeah, so?”

“The
Darmuks
won't stop with the battle-apes and field commanders. Eventually they'll produce types impervious to bullets.”

“How do you know that?”

“It's what I would do. Keeping troops alive is efficient; it means they don't have to spend resources to create new ones.”

“That's a scary logic.”

“The
Darmuks
are pragmatists. That logic started me thinking. A high-voltage, electrical charge will penetrate most types of armor. The problem is in delivering it. A sword can contain a power source and capacitor circuits that would release a high-voltage charge when a ground is contacted.”

“You want to send our troops up against
Darmuks
armed like King fucking Arthur?” gasped Zane.

“Would you rather they go up against them unarmed? It isn't a final solution, simply a versatile weapon that can be employed against bullet proof
Darmuk
soldiers until we find a more effective one.”

“Gods, what a mess we're in.”

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 15:25/ 1/3/2036

* * * *

Richard jacked out of his computer. “Oh, Gods, I miss you!” there were tears in his eyes.

“Soon, my Ash. Soon.” Standing he moved to the recording device he was constructing and examined its circuits. So far he had recorded the life of an elderly dog they had obtained from the pound. The images could be scanned, a single one selected. The gestational chamber that held a fetal puppy was the next stage in the experiment. He only hoped he had time.

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 11:10/ 17/10/2036

* * * *

Richard examined the newest fetal body. This last batch had been the most difficult, because the start up DNA hadn't been as fresh. Of the forty they had started only seven had made it past the first few cell divisions. Those seven seemed to be doing well.

“Identification may be a pain in the ass, but I thank the Gods for that cell culture.” Sighing he rubbed his eyes. He was thirsty and longed to lose himself. He missed her and trembled at the thought of what he was about to attempt.

“Ashley,” he whispered. His hand was part way to the drawer where he kept the scotch when he stopped himself.

“No!” He swallowed in a dry mouth and left to get a glass of water.

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 10:17/ 2/1/2037

* * * *

Zane stared down at him, his human eye mirrored concern. Richard squeezed the padded arms of the interface couch nervously, and looked at the download room's white ceiling. Trying to avoid the younger man's gaze.

“You sure about this, Doc?” asked Zane.

“As sure as I have ever been of anything. Do it, chronologically, pre-birth on.”

“The dog—”

“The puppy is doing well. It knows an amazing number of tricks for such a young animal.”

“Yeah and the dog died. Its brain was turned to oatmeal!”

“Yes, but it did it slowly after the upload was completed. If the pattern is consistent, we'll have a month after we finish before enough brain cells die for it to affect our performance. What would you have me do?”

Zane looked speculative. “It's worth the price.” He pushed the interface jack into place and moved behind the console. Richard's next memory was of liquid warmth and a slow steady drumming sound.

* * * *

Major Joans jacked out and rubbed his temples. The pain between his ears was nowhere near as crushing as it usually was after a session.

“Done,” asked General Flanders.

“Yes sir. We can't upload past the start of the download sessions without risking a memory loop. If the Colonel manages another download from mission site we can patch it in after the last session. The week of the sessions is lost though.”

“I suppose it makes sense. How long until the units are ready?”

An older man dressed in a lab-coat moved from the corner of the room where he'd been checking some instruments. “Allow the units a week to restructure. After that we'll know for sure.”

“I hope to hell this works. The damned
Darmuks
have a new front line type. Looks like a giant armadillo. Anything short of tank fire and they just keep coming.”

“The Colonel will figure it out sir. I know he will.” Major Joan's eyes strayed to the console giving the read-outs from the units being prepped.

Chapter Thirty-one
What Power Is Man

Zane watched them come. He threw his final gas grenade. Half the beasts fell back but the others ignored it. He smiled. Out of the hundreds of
Darmuks
that had remained in the embassy when Richard sealed it off, maybe fifty still had fight enough to face him.

“Guess Doc would say ‘Horacio at the bridge'. Whoever he was?”

Zane fired at what looked like a giant turtle with fibrous plaits on its head and legs. The first round from his pistol did nothing to the beast. The second was a caustic filled hollow point. When it struck, the beast's shell hissed and fizzled, a second shot in the same spot blew a hole in the shell and the
Darmuk
dropped.

“Zane Hinkly, stop this foolishness right now!” snapped a voice that left him slack jawed.

The
Darmuks
parted as a middle-aged, balding man dressed in a scruffy collaborator's overall strode forward.

“Dad?” asked Zane.

* * * *

Janis hissed as the medic probed the wound in her leg, pulling out bits of shattered brick. They rode in the back seat of a careening SUV. The small arms factory behind them blazed and the bodies of
Darmuks
and men littered the ground.

“Full night. The nocturnal adaptations will be joining the fray,” said the driver. She was maybe twenty with a shaved head and lean body. Her breasts barely dented the fabric of her T-shirt. “Shit!”

The vehicle lurched to a stop. Janis hissed as the tweezers in her wound shifted position. A jet careened into the ground in front of them, exploding into a ball of flame.

“Arr. Fuck!” Janis inhaled raggedly then demanded through gritted teeth. “Ours or theirs?”

“Ours,” replied the driver.

“Pilot?”

“Can't. Just a second. There.” She pointed to where a figure drifted earthward. A great shadow with flapping wings sped towards it.

“Oh no you don't!” Janis pushed the medic away and grabbed her rifle. She took aim and fired. The flapping thing screamed and changed course towards them.

“Motor!” She dove back into the vehicle.

* * * *

The pilot watched as the flying thing veered off. He scanned the ground with his night scope and saw them waiting. Their huge eyes glistened in the darkness. Two of them carried a cooler he knew contained cerebral symbionts.

“I love you Sandy,” he whispered. Following his orders he took out the small, white pill. He bit down on it. White light glowed and he looked into it.

“Come home, son,” was the last, first thing he heard.

* * * *

Natalie led the way through the sewers. They came to a barrier that isolated the embassy from the rest of the passages. Water passed through it but it blocked anything else.

“Now what?” demanded Ji-Yeon.

“Ashley taught us,” said Carry. She moved to Natalie's side. “A kiss for luck, sweetheart. The two women kissed then Natalie and Carry joined hands and pressed their symbionts against the barrier. A look of concentration crossed their faces. Slowly, with a horrible, wet, ripping sound, the barrier parted.

“Hurry,” ordered the statuesque blonde. The rest of the group rushed through. Sweat formed on Natalie's forehead.

“Come on,” called Ji-Yeon.

“We can't. Go on,” ordered Carry. She was trembling with the effort of holding back the barrier that kept trying to close.

The tissue filled in the hole with a wet clap.

“Goddess no,” swore Julia.

Ji-Yeon thought a silent prayer.

“Come on. We have to get to the docks.”

“Maybe we could—” began Jeff.

“We don't have time! If we don't get there who's going to look after our kids?” demanded Ji-Yeon.

“Let's go,” agreed Julia.

They followed the sewer for what seemed several blocks then pushed open a manhole and emerged onto the street. Behind them
Darmuks
surged around the shielded embassy. Flames cracked in places around the town.

Down the street a factory burned, and fire fighters, in collaborator coveralls, manned a pumper-truck.

“Now what?” asked Norma.

“Anyone ever drive a fire-truck or big rig?” asked Ji-Yeon.

Jeff smiled. “I did long-hauls before Kelly was born.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, there's your answer.”

With the collaborators' attention focused on the flames, they approached the vehicle's blind side without being spotted. Jeff took the driver's seat and found the keys in the ignition. The collaborators were unaware of their presence until the truck sped away, hoses snapping as they reached their full extension. The hydrant jerked then tore off, sending a jet of water skyward.

“Yee ha,” cried Jeff.

“Head to the docks. We have to wash up and get some clothes on the way. Girls, time to pretty ourselves up. Don't want to disappoint the sailors, now do we?” Ji-Yeon closed her eyes. Free of the bio-mind her cerebral symbiont obeyed her command and disconnected from her nervous system. It slithered from her flesh, releasing a bio-adhesive that sealed the wound behind it. The symbiont fell onto the fire-truck's floor. Her face full of disgust Ji-Yeon threw it under the wheels. “I'm free of that filthy thing.” She muttered. The other escapees followed her example.

* * * *

The SUV pulled up in front of the docks. Janis piled out and stared. A fire-truck was parked behind a clump of trees. Several, the best word she could think of was ‘tarts', were standing on the doc by a battered looking freighter.

“What the?” asked her driver.

“The oldest profession. Those boys have been at sea a long time. Ashley said she'd secure the ship if we'd get the crew,” explained Janis.

“I wish I could have met her,” said the medic. He was maybe twenty-five, thin but well muscled with short brown hair.

“You missed out, John. I'll say that. You missed out.

“Okay people, get prepped. Assemble any underground that made it here. We need to hit the
Darmuks
in the docking buildings and get the humans aboard the ship. I want a stealth killer on the dock. There's bound to be a
Darmuk
liaison aboard, and I want it taken out.

“If the word got spread we'll have others showing up soon, so we better be ready. Pass it on; anyone with seafaring experience gets tagged as crew. I don't care if they were a collaborator. We'll sort that out later. Anything that can sail gets loaded up.”

“Yes, Mam,” agreed the two younger freedom fighters in unison, before they went to look for other resistance members.

* * * *

Ji-Yeon sashayed up the boarding ramp at the head of the women. She smiled at the captain. He was a scruffy-looking, older man, with several missing teeth and a wiry build marred by a beer gut.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted them.

“Hello.” Ji-Yeon put on a little girl face and looked at him provocatively.

A man-sized Darmuk, that looked like a bipedal lobster, stood in the background eyeing the newcomers. Its whiskers waved in the air.

“This is irregular, captain,” it hissed.

“Relax there mate. Man does not live on bread alone. You can trust me men. You still have their families. You know you can trust me.”

“It was all cleared with Captain Tannal,” said Jeff, who brought up the rear with the other men.

“Who the hell be you lot,” demanded the captain.

“Tannal didn't want to have any of your crew unhappy, so.”

“Bloody back ticklers. No work for your kind on my ship. Not with tasty little bits like these about.” the captain squeezed Ji-Yeon's breast through her top. She forced herself not to shudder. “You can do some honest work. Deck could use a scrub.”

“As you say, Captain,” said Jeff.

“Enjoy this interlude, Captain. We must sail at dawn with the supplies for the Asian theatre.”

“Hear that lass. You're to be me last for a long time.” The captain took Ji-Yeon's hand and led her below decks. The other crew each chose one of the women.

“Hey, there aren't enough,” complained one of the seamen.

“We'll come by later,” soothed Julia, as she walked off on the arm of her sailor.

“Or you can take one of the back ticklers. Not much difference for you, is there?” quipped one of the men with a woman. The others laughed.

“Bloody sloppy seconds,” swore the man who stalked off.

When the sailors were gone the lobster-like
Darmuk
moved to the ship's rail and stared onto the pier. No one heard the whoosh of the spear gun being fired, or the thunk of the armor piercing spear driving home into the Darmuk's shell. It hissed as the rope was jerked and it fell to the deck. A razor-sharp knife separated its antennas and limbs. It bled out and was pushed into the sea with a quiet plop.

* * * *

Ji-Yeon sat astride the captain. He arched his back and groaned as he came. She couldn't believe it had been so quick. She faked an orgasm before he could grow soft then climbed off him.

“That was a bit of goodness lass,” said the captain.

She lay beside him on his bed. His quarters consisted of a ten by ten room with a bed, a desk and a computer.

“Can't stay long, but a bit of a cuddle might be nice,” added the captain.

There was a half-empty bottle of whisky at his bedside and the stench of his breath told her what he'd been doing before her arrival.

He wrapped his arms around her and she barely kept herself from shuddering. She focused on a mental image of her son and asked herself what Ashley would do. She held on!

The captain began to snore. She slipped from his side and scanned the room. A heavy knife hung on the wall. She unsheathed it and moved to her prey's side. A shudder ran through her. He was helpless, she faltered, thought of leaving him alive, then an image of her husband swam up in front of her eyes. She was escaping for them all. She slashed the blade across the collaborator's throat.

His eyes shot open. He grasped her wrists and blood squirted from his neck, showering her. He gurgled then fell back dead.

Ji-Yeon retched onto the corpse then staggered to the shower stall. Minutes later she dressed and left his room to search out the other sailors.

* * * *

Janis waited. What remained of the Goleta resistance was gathered around her. Twenty-five men, women, and children in all. A twelve year old, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, crouched to her right.

God, what have we come to?
she thought, looking at the child.

Human refugees had started to arrive; several had picked up clubs and joined her group, swelling their numbers to forty-three.

“Okay. On my shot not before. Hard and fast. Kill the
Darmuks
, evac the humans, then blow the buildings. The fire will give us some light to see by. If it floats, fill it up,” ordered Janis.

“Yes, Mam,” whispered her troops in unison. They slunk through the shadows. Most of the
Darmuks
had been called off to the various other disasters, leaving only a skeleton crew.

Janis slipped under the dock and crawled between the pylons. A
Darmuk
came into view. The shaggy creature blended into the shadows. She picked her target and waited. The beast moved, allowing her a clear shot and she took it. The first bullet did nothing but the magnesium tipped slug that followed burned once it struck the creature, and the beast went down. Other shots rang out. Janis crept to the door of the boat house. The twelve year old with the shotgun took up a position opposite her. She grabbed the door handle and pushed it open while standing to one side.

A blast of lead tore the door off its hinges and sent it flying. The twelve year old went low, rolled into the doorway, fired two rounds then rolled clear. A battle-grizzly staggered out the door then fell to the ground.

“Shit,” swore the twelve year old.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” asked Janis.

“She's dead.”

“Shit!” Janis put another slug into the back of the Darmuk's head to be sure. The kid slipped two new cartridges into the sawed-off.

* * * *

Ji-Yeon took the lanky sailor by the hand and walked with him towards his quarters.

“Do you like being a sailor?” She shot him her most flirtatious smile.

“I use to.” He nervously ran a hand through his short, sandy-blonde hair.

“Not anymore?”

“It isn't respectable work anymore.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“So, why collaborate if you feel that way?” she whispered.

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