Earth's Last War (The Contingency War Book 4) Read online
Page 4
Adra reached the entrance to her old research and testing laboratory and pressed her hand to the security pad. A needle no larger than an eyelash shot out and pierced the center of her palm, drawing a small sample of her blood. Then a second later a white beam of light scanned across her face, before the large metal doors slid open with a hiss that allowed the older, staler air inside to bleed out. Adra entered, triggering the activation of power relays and computer consoles that had been dormant for hundreds of years. She could smell the ozone in the air as dusty circuits suddenly received power and lights blinked on all around the laboratory.
Vika followed, more cautiously than Adra, paying attention to each and every corner of the laboratory, which occupied a volume more than three times that of their Destroyer. A large section of the space was given over to an open chamber to the right of the door. Vika observed what looked like rows of stasis pods lining each side. The section to the left of the entrance was a far busier and more claustrophobic collection of smaller rooms surrounding a larger workshop. Adra had gone directly ahead into the largest of a group of glass-fronted rooms, which she assumed must have been Adra’s personal office.
Since Adra had explicitly ordered her to stay out of her way, Vika decided to explore the open chamber to the right, stepping down a shallow flight of stairs to reach the chamber. Moving into the center she looked into each of the stasis pods, all of which were empty. Then she grasped the purpose of the space. Kagan had told her that Adra was responsible for the creation of the human-simulant hybrids, including the high-functioning Hunter simulant models. This laboratory space must have been where she had developed these simulant units – the prototypes for the cybernetic machines that now numbered in the billions, and without which their Empire could not properly function.
Vika paced to the end of the chamber, making sure to check inside each one of the pods, but all were empty – all except for a row of four at the very end of the chamber. These were set apart from the rest, standing up against the far wall, and were further distinguished from the others by a single console screen on a pedestal beside the far right pod. She moved closer and wiped away the thin layer of grime from the glass cases of each pod, instantly recognizing the simulant faces staring back from inside each. The first pod contained Tactical Specialist Blake Meade, the second Pilot Casey Valera, the third was Captain Taylor Ray and the fourth was Technical Specialist Satomi Rose. Vika stepped back, confused as to why only these four simulants remained, and why they had never been put into service. She quickly checked to make sure that Adra was still oblivious to her actions, and then moved in front of the console screen. It was misted with decades of dust and dirt, and she wiped it clean with a fold of her long, black coat, before tapping the screen twice to activate it. The console slowly glowed back to life and on the screen Vika saw a simple status readout of each unit. She read each entry in turn.
Blake Meade, Prototype A1:
Status - Non Viable. Neural activity, zero.
Casey Valera, Prototype A1:
Status - Non Viable. Neural activity, zero.
Taylor Ray, Prototype A1:
Status - Non Viable. Neural activity, zero.
Satomi Rose, Prototype A1:
Status – Viable. Unexplained neural activity.
SEVEN
The scout remained in the system for several hours, during which time all they could do was sit and wait. Taylor and the others didn’t feel the cold, but the temperature quickly became uncomfortable for James, and Taylor had ordered him to don an environment suit. These suits were designed for limited space walks and hostile planetary environments. Considering that three of the four crew on the Contingency One were humanoid cyborgs with synthetic bodies, the fact that James appeared most out of place at his station on the bridge was testament to just how alien he looked.
“How are you doing over there, Technical Specialist?” asked Taylor, cheerfully, directing the question at the helmeted mass of material and metal, awkwardly perched on the seat at the mission ops station.
James raised an arm and gave a clumsy thumbs up, “I’m okay, Captain.”
Blake, who was reclined back in his chair at tactical also lifted a hand, “We come in peace...” he said in a stilted accent, “Take us to your leader!”
Casey laughed and spun around in her chair once as an extension of her amusement. Then she stopped and suddenly acted all serious, “Wait, wouldn’t his leader technically be Colonel Collins?”
Blake realized his error and feigned shock, “On second thoughts, don’t take us to your leader,” he added in the same stilted manner, “He’s an asshole!”
Casey laughed and spun around again. Even the bulky suit containing James jostled up and down as he laughed inside its protective cocoon. Taylor smiled, but in the absence of Commander Sonner, felt he should do the ‘captainly’ thing and admonish Blake for his comment. “Okay, that’s enough Tactical Specialist Meade. He may be an asshole, but he is our commanding officer. Let’s keep it respectful.”
“Whatever, Cap,” said Blake, “you’re the boss.” Speaking these last few words out loud seemed to remind Blake of something, and he folded his arms, scowling. “I mean, technically you’re the boss, right, Cap? ‘Cos we ain’t part of Earth Fleet, not really. Hell, we ain’t even human!”
“Technically, yes,” admitted Taylor, “but we’re still partly human, and the original human versions of us were Earth Fleet officers.”
“Yeah, but that’s like sayin’ my grandpa was in Earth Fleet, so that means I automatically am too,” Blake argued back. “All I’m sayin’ is that I don’t think we need to be takin’ orders from this Collins guy.” Then he pointed to James, “Not like our extra-terrestrial friend over there has to.”
Casey smiled at the joke, but refrained from laughing or spinning herself around in her chair; she knew that in his own special way, Blake was raising a serious point. Taylor glanced over at James and noted that his environment suit was no longer shuddering, meaning he was likely paying close attention too.
“We can’t fight the Hedalt if we’re fighting amongst ourselves, Blake,” Taylor answered. “We need a command structure and he happens to be the most senior officer.”
“Aw, c’mon, Cap, that’s just political BS, an’ you know it!” Blake hit back. “Why’re we even fightin’ this war for them? As that assh...” he caught himself just in time, but made it clear the correction was unwilling, “as Colonel Collins is so fond of remindin’ you, we’re not human. We’re their former enemies, an’ in case ya hadn’t noticed, they don’t like havin’ us around.”
Taylor had wondered how long it would be before Blake’s pessimism and glass-half-empty attitude resurfaced, though in some ways it was comforting. It reinforced the fact that he was essentially the same Blake Meade he’d always known. But, he couldn’t deny that he had a point too. Taylor’s reasons for wanting to fight the Hedalt were his own, but the more he reconnected with his former crew, and the more the human population grew, the more obvious it had become that they didn’t fit in. For him, the fight had become personal – it was about stopping Provost Adra, and rescuing Satomi. What would hopefully end up being Earth’s last war was something he felt increasingly more detached from, but the training and instincts that were in his head from the original Captain Taylor Ray were hard to ignore. He still felt duty-bound to fight, but he also wanted to because it was the right thing to do. Leaving Sonner and the others to face Adra and the Hedalt alone seemed cowardly.
“Look, Blake, I understand where you’re coming from, really I do,” said Taylor, “and I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t wondered the same.” He paused to take the measure of Blake’s reaction, but the TacSpec officer didn’t interrupt; he, like the others, was still hanging off his every word. “You’re right; maybe this isn’t our fight and it never was, but we’re a part of this war, whether we like it or not. I don’t like what the Hedalt did to me and you and Casey, or what they did to Earth. Someone has to eve
n the score, and it might as well be us.”
Blake mulled this over for a few seconds, while glancing over at Casey, whose soft smile and static expression weren’t giving much away. Then he shook his head gently and looked back at Taylor, “Okay, Cap, if that’s your call, I’ll go with it.” He opened his arms wide, gesturing to the dark, cold and near-silent interior of the bridge, “It’s not like I got anythin’ better to do!” Casey’s smiled widened. Then the mission ops console bleeped an alert and everyone reacted instantly, darting over to check it.
“What is it?” asked Blake as they all peered down at the console.
James, despite the bulk of the environment suit, had already managed to analyze the alert. “It’s another jump signature.”
“In or out of the system?” asked Taylor.
“Hard to tell without fully powering up the sensors,” James replied. “But that would make us a lot easier to spot, assuming the scout was still in the system.”
Taylor rubbed the smooth synthetic skin on his cheek. He knew it was a risk, but they couldn’t sit out in space forever. “Okay, take a peek, but make sure it’s quick.”
Blake leaned in towards Casey with a twinkle in his eyes, and then muttered in hushed tones, “That’s what Satomi used to say to him…”
Casey rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the ribs, though she had to admit that was one of his better attempts at inuendo.
Remarkably, given his enhanced simulant hearing Taylor had been too preoccupied with the scan result to pick up on the comment. He watched eagerly as James finished the sensor sweep and then turned awkwardly towards him.
“No sign of the ship, Captain,” said James, “but from the residual ion trail, it would suggest the ship was heading out of the system when it jumped.”
Taylor, Casey and Blake exchanged relieved smiles, before Taylor placed a hand on James’ shoulder, “Okay, power up, and then send a message to the other ships to do the same and return to base, smartly.”
“Aye, Captain,” said James, “I’ll be glad to get out of this suit, I’m bursting for a pee.”
“Too much information, Mr. Sonner,” said Taylor, to stifled chortles from Casey and Blake behind him. “But, by all means, you are relieved so you can, well, relieve yourself.” This set Blake and Casey off laughing uncontrollably, holding on to each other for support.
Just as James got up, the mission ops console bleeped again, this time indicating an incoming message from the transmitter array on the moon’s surface.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” said Taylor, pointing him towards the door. James gladly accepted the offer and ran off the bridge while Taylor put the message through onto the viewport.
“Captain, is everything okay?” asked a visibly concerned Commander Sarah Sonner, “We monitored rising power signatures up there, so I assume the ship you spotted has gone?”
“It’s gone, Commander, but there’s no way to know if it will come back,” Taylor answered, “or if it will bring some friends if it does.”
“I told you we should not delay!” snapped Collins, directing the statement more at Sonner than Taylor. “If the enemy knows our location, we must act now and deploy the fleet at once.”
“I would have to agree, Commander,” said Taylor, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “We might be compromised.”
“Damn it!” said Sonner balling her hands into fists. “Okay, I agree,” she added, grudgingly. “I still don’t think we’re ready, but it looks like our time is up. If the enemy finds this base and the fleet is still inside the lava tube, it could be the shortest battle in history.”
“Good, finally some sense from all of you!” said Collins with a triumphant air of superiority. Taylor could see that Sonner was fighting hard not to shove one of her balled fists down his throat. “Order the four Nimrods out there with you to return for refueling and arming. And get back here yourselves.”
“Aye, Colonel, the Nimrods are already en route,” said Taylor, but he could see that Sonner was eager to interject.
“Captain, you’ve just been exposed to some extremely low temperatures for a prolonged period,” Sonner cut in, “make sure you take a walk first. I need you to stretch your legs. We don’t want your simulant frame to seize up.”
Taylor noted that her eyes were unusually wide and that she kept waggling her eyebrows. “Commander, the temperature on the bridge didn’t drop below about forty or so, which isn’t too bad. And I feel fine...”
“Captain, that’s an order,” Sonner cut in. Collins was scowling at her, probably just as confused as Taylor. “Go for a walk. Perhaps take a look at the starlight...”
Taylor finally understood what she meant and felt foolish for not getting it sooner, “Oh, yes, okay Commander. Actually, I’d already had the same idea.”
“Now is hardly the time for stargazing!” growled Collins. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
“The Commander is our foremost expert on simulant technology, Colonel,” said Taylor, getting into the part, “so I think we should do as she suggests.”
“Just make it quick and then get back here,” grumbled Collins. Then he turned to Sonner. “Start the evacuation, Commander. I want all ships ready to launch as soon as possible.”
“Understood, Colonel,” said Sonner, a little wearily, before glancing at Taylor and adding, “Enjoy your little walk, Captain. Contingency base, out.”
The viewport faded to black just as the bridge door swung open and James entered, “Hey, what did I miss?”
“Nothin’ much. Collins just ordered us to war, is all...” said Blake, casually. James felt doubly relieved that he’d just been to the restroom.
“James, do you know anything about simulant regeneration tech?” asked Taylor, swiftly changing the subject.
James shrugged, “Yes, Captain, a little. Sarah… I mean Commander Sonner, ran me through how it works, including how to monitor the connection to the CoreNet and set up the DMZ.” Then his head drooped and his voice wilted a little. “She said it’s best if more than one person knows how, in case, you know, anything happens.”
“That’s a bit morbid,” said Taylor, recognizing the sudden change in James’ mood, “but pragmatic too. And helpful, as it turns out.”
“Helpful how, Captain?”
Taylor was not looking forward to the part that came next. “Because I need you to help me take a little walk…”
EIGHT
Taylor stood in front of the starlight door, trying to muster up the courage to walk through it. The resurgence of physical emotions while inside the Fabric still took him by surprise. Being brave is a hell of a lot easier when you have a body that doesn’t feel nervous... he thought to himself.
However, despite the risk that Provost Adra was monitoring the CoreNet for signs of an ‘anomaly’, ready to purge Taylor from existence at any moment, he knew he had to step through and travel to Earth. At least this time he knew how to get there, because he’d already traveled along the threads of the Fabric to reach the super-luminal node the Hedalt had positioned in the Sol system. But he also remembered how quickly his incursion into the Fabric had been detected by Provost Adra, and so he knew the chances were high that she would find him again. He just had to hope he had time to gather enough information about the Hedalt forces before she did so.
He took a deep breath, stepped through the door and closed his eyes. “Earth...” he said out loud, picturing the blue orb in his mind, “take me to Earth.”
Instantly he could feel his body moving, and he opened his eyes to see himself surging towards one of the countless translucent cubes spread across the galaxy. Before he knew it, he’d raced into the center and rapidly changed direction, like a pinball repelled by a bumper. He kept his eyes open as he sped through more cubes, trying to stay focused and alert, aware that if he blacked out he could be caught by Adra with no way to escape. But despite his efforts, he found his vision blurring and with each passing second it became more of a struggle to stay
conscious.
Then, just as suddenly as his incredible journey along the threads of the Fabric had started, his rapid voyage through space ended and he was confronted by the unmistakable shimmering ball of blue that was the planet Earth. Wasting no time, he urged himself closer, until he was almost in orbit, but he didn’t need to look hard to gather the reconnaissance he needed. Assembled in orbit, close to the super-luminal transceiver, was an intricate formation of dozens of ships, arranged into squadrons of five. Taylor swept closer, observing that each squadron contained at least one or two heavy cruisers that were many times larger than their own Nimrod-class cruisers. While some of the designs were new to Taylor, he recognized the War Frigates at once, and counted twenty before he stopped. Twenty frigates on their own would be a match for the Nimrod fleet, and this was only a fraction of the Hedalt force. All in, Taylor estimated that there were already more than a hundred ships protecting Earth, and although in pure numbers they had a force roughly equal in size, the reality was that the Nimrods didn’t stand a chance. And there was nothing to say that more Hedalt ships weren’t on the way.
“Taylor, quickly, we don’t have much time!”
Satomi’s voice came out of nowhere. Taylor jolted around, looking in all directions, but he couldn’t see her. “Satomi? Where are...”
He hadn’t even finished the sentence before he was moving again at super-luminal speeds, this time at even more dizzying velocities than before, but to where he had no idea. Cube after cube appeared and vanished and at each node Taylor was bounced this way and that, with each step adding to the stabbing pain in his head until the blur of light suddenly resolved. It took him a few moments to readjust, whereupon he found himself standing in a large open space with dark metal walls and coarse-grated decking. While his body appeared to be stationary his mind was still spinning.