The Battle for Terra Two (24 page)

"Move, you hulk, move!" N'Trol stood at the Engineering station, glaring at the image of
V'Tran's Glory
on the main screen. "Half our mass, one-third our power, and it won't budge." The engineer looked down at the tractor-lock readout, not believing. The telltale read force seven— the destroyer should have been trolling toward the cruiser like a hooked game fish.

"Full power," said D'Trelna, watching the screen. The portal continued turning and growing.

"We're at breakpoint, Commodore," said N'Trol. "Tie in more power, we'll be breathing vacuum."

D'Trelna swiveled around, facing the engineer. "Objection noted, Mr. N'Trol. Execute."

"Your ship," he shrugged, engaging override.

Implacable
groaned, engines straining against a seemingly immovable object. Vibrations shuddered down the long miles of the cruiser as the engines whined higher, pressed beyond design tolerance.

"Negative movement!" shouted N'Trol over the din.

"Hull sensors show fault lines—first, third, seventh through
..."

"Cut down," ordered D'Trelna.

The engineer's fingers flew over his controls. The whining shuddering died.

"I'll take your damage control reports in a moment, N'Trol," D'Trelna said into the silence.

"Strange energy scan on the Maximus site," reported T'Ral.

"Define 'strange,' " said the commodore.

"Overlapping N-17 and N-30 groupings," said T'Ral, compiling separate readouts. "Fluctuating—every third series peaking five percent higher than the last.''

"The portal's stopped dilating, sir," said K'Raoda.

D'Trelna glanced up. "So it has."

"Well, we know what happens after that, don't we?"

"Sir?" said K'Raoda.

"Birth, idiot," said N'Trol, busy at his station.

"That portal's half the diameter of Terra's moon," said T'Ral. "The baby should be impressive."

"We're just going to sit here and wait?" asked N'Trol, transferring the damage control reports to the commodore's station.

"Mr. N'Trol," said D'Trelna, looking balefully at the engineer, "we may die in a few moments. So let me say that you are one of the finest technical officers I have ever seen—and I've seen a lot."

N'Trol grunted.

"You are also as ungracious, unmannered and selfish as you are competent. Had I my way, you'd be freely discharged and sent home."

"Why, thank you, Commodore."

"But I don't have the authority."

"Captain L'Wrona on tacband, sir."

D'Trelna switched into the pickup. "H'Nar! What's going on down there?"

L'Wrona leaned against the tunnel wall, survival jacket torn, flecked with green blood. His six surviving commandos were behind him, tending their wounds. "We torched and sealed the vault, J'Quel," he said, "but there's something weird happening in there." He stopped, covering his head as the ground rumbled, showering the party with bits of cement. The rumbling ceased. "There's seismic activity— seems to be centered in the vault."

"What's your assessment?"

"The mutation process Guan-Sharick was afraid of—it's here, I think—out of control. Way out of control." He turned his back to the wind knifing down the tunnel. "Maybe we triggered whatever's happening, maybe it's spontaneous."

Across the passageway from L'Wrona, John slumped wearily against the wall, then jerked away, back stinging. "H'Nar!" he called. "This wall's hot!"

Turning, L'Wrona's saw the wall further down the tunnel glowing a sullen red—the air seemed to ripple in the heat. Rivulets of molten rock and cement were forming into fiery streams that inched toward them, slowly swelling.

"Everyone out!" he called, pointing to the entrance. "Make for the river and the opposite shore!"

"She's had it," said Hochmeister, throwing a jacket over a gut-shot commando. He and John followed the others into the night and storm.

"J'Quel, we're out," reported L'Wrona, scrambling down the embankment and out onto the ice. "Commvector a shuttle down to us."

The wind had dropped, but the snow was coming thick, dry and stinging. They trudged in a ragged line across the cleanswept ice, making for the opposite shore.

Hochmeister slipped, starting to fall. An arm shot out, catching him.

"You're taking good care of me, Harrison," he said. "Why?"

"You're going to keep your word to the gangers, Admiral," said John, guiding the other around a suspiciously dark patch of ice. "And for that, you have to be alive."

D'Trelna nodded at a thumbs up sign from K'Raoda. "Your shuttle's on the way, H'Nar," he said over the commlink.

"Acknowledged."

"Here it comes," said T'Ral, looking up at the main screen.

"Gods of my fathers," whispered D'Trelna, rising from his chair.

It was huge—a black sphere hundreds of miles in diameter, emerging slowly from the rippling obsidian of the portal. Not a single light shone from its darkness.

"Computer," said the commodore, finding his voice, "search all data sources for any record of a vessel similar to the one now approaching us.

"K'Lana, give me ship-to-ship, all bands. Gunnery, lock all but one missile battery on that monster. Target that one battery on
V'Tran's Glory."

"Commodore," said computer through the chair speaker, "there is an archival reference to ships of this configuration."

"Summarize."

"The data is in the classified portion of the Imperial Archives on K'Ronar. Requests must be made through channels."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"You have ship-to-ship, all bands, Commodore," said K'Lana.

D'Trelna opened the commlink. ' 'This is K'Ronarin Confederation cruiser
Implacable.
Halt and identify."

Something flashed from the black sphere, now half through the portal. Every screen on the bridge blanked as it exploded against the shield.

"The shield's gone," said T'Ral, incredulous. "Like something swatting a fly."

"N'Trol?" said D'Trelna.

"It somehow used our own shield to conduct a charge to the hullside shield relays. They're fused lumps." For once the engineer looked impressed. "It'll take months to repair."

"We may not have to worry about repairs," said D'Trelna.

"Switching to secondary scanners," said K'Raoda.

Their view of the outside came back.

"Burned out all exposed scanners," reported N'Trol, surveying the damage readout.

"Why doesn't it finish us?" said K'Raoda.

"Perhaps we're beneath its contempt," said D'Trelna. "Let's see if we can change that."

"Gunnery, open fire on the sphere—everything we've got."

"Move us in front of that portal, T'Lei."

It had saved itself, becoming flame even as the flames took it. And it had learned, taking the minds of the S'Cotar as they died. Integrating their memories, it saw what they'd attempted and understood their error.

It searched out
Implacable
and the portal. Finding them, it rose from its fiery creche.

* * * *

They were halfway across the river when the top blew off Maximus, a sudden flash of emerald light sweeping away the dark.

Unbearably bright, a flaming green orb soared into the night and the storm, taking away the light and sending a shock wave crashing across the mountains.

"What
....?"
asked S'Til, rising from the ice, vision still blurred by dancing specks of green.

"The end of the Maximus Project, certainly," said Hochmeister, brushing off his jacket.

The weather was closing in again, the wind throwing the snow into their faces.

There was a sudden loud snap! then a series of groans and cracks beneath their feet.

"The ice is breaking up!" John flashed his light ahead of them. Ice and snow were being replaced by a widening stretch of black water.

"Back! The way we came!" shouted L'Wrona. "Quick-ly!"

"Forget it," said S'Til, flicking her light along the network of cracks spreading from the Maximus side.

"Upriver," ordered L'Wrona, turning left.

Behind them, the cracks were widening to fissures, triggering more faults that began snaking up and down river.

They'd covered perhaps a hundred yards, their race with the dark water almost lost, when a yellow halo appeared out of the storm, resolving into a shuttle that hovered on n-gravs just above the ice, access port cycling open as a ladder descended.

"What's that?" asked Hochmeister.

"The cavalry, Admiral," said John as they joined the rush for the ladder.

D'Trelna shook his head, disgusted. "Not even slowing it," he said, watching red fusion beams and silver missiles strike at the black ship. The beams were splashing harmlessly against it, the missiles drifting unexploded along the sphere's equator, engines dead. "Cease fire," he ordered.

It was almost through the portal, a featureless black mass that filled the screen, only the drifting silver needles of
Implacable'%
missiles providing contrast.

"Message received on all bands," said K'Lana from the commstation.

That brought D'Trelna out of his chair, staring at her. "What?"

" 'Catch.' "

"Catch?" He turned back to the screen, just as all of
Implacable''%
missiles came alive, coming home on tails of pale blue fire.

"Gunnery! Destruct those missiles!"

"Negative response, Commodore."

"Get us out of here, T'Lei."

"Never make it," said K'Raoda, slamming in full reverse engines.

"Humor me," said D'Trelna. Gripping the back of the command chair, he leaned forward, watching the screen.

The black sphere's image shrank as they retreated. The missiles drew closer, then turned as one, heading away from Terra Two and the cruiser, driving in toward the sun.

"Whatever else they are," said the commodore, "they're cruel.

"Get us back on station," he ordered, taking his chair. "Gunnery, he's almost here. Destroy
V'Tran's Glory."

N'Trol began whistling a tune popular when they'd last put into Prime Base—"Upship and Home No More."

"Commodore! Wajt!" K'Raoda transferred a fresh pickup to the screen. A brilliant speck of green was rising from Earth's nightside, growing nearer as they watched.

"Gunnery. Countermand that destruct order.

"What is that, T'Lei?"

"The Maximus anomaly," said K'Raoda. He sent the targeting data flowing across the screen.

"Star plasma," said N'Trol. "Nothing else stays that hot."

"Headed right for us—and the portal," said D'Trelna. He studied the target projection. "Computer, assume us to be target of object approaching from planet. Give us standard audio count to impact.''

"Acknowledged."

"Is it after us or the portal?" said T'Ral. "Let's not find out," said D'Trelna. "Thirty to impact," said computer, voice filling the bridge.

"T'Lei, at five, jump us just outsystem—about where we'd put a skipcomm buoy."

K'Raoda was suddenly very busy. "Cycling to drive, Commodore."

"Twenty to impact."

"Drive cycled."

"All decks, stand by for jump," said D'Trelna. "Ten, nine, eight . . ."

"Hazardous radiation!" reported T'Ral, shielding his eyes as blinding green light swept the bridge. "Five
..."

The ball of green fire passed through where
Implacable
had been. Missiles and beams flashed from the black ship as she cleared the portal. Green fire devoured them. Reaching the portal, the Maximus entity passed through layers of wondrously intricate defense screens, penetrating the hull.

The black sphere exploded, a fierce flash of primary colors sweeping out from the portal.

The gray beam from the destroyer winked off as the explosion touched it. Freed,
V'Tran's Glory
drifted slowly toward Terra Two.

Warsuited, blaster in hand, K'Raoda stood alone on the bridge of
V'Tran's Glory,
talking to
Implacable.
"Bridge and Engineering are secure, H'Nar," he said. "S'Til's force is searching the rest of the ship—NTrol's checking drive and engines."

"And those alien machines?"

K'Raoda looked at the small piles of gray ash littering the deck. "They couldn't handle defeat—they appear to have self-destructed."

The captain shook his head. "If we reacted like that, T'Lei, we'd be a long time dead.

"Advise when the ship's secure. Volunteer crew is standing by."

"Acknowledged."

Security seemed as deserted as the rest of the ship. S'Til walked past the central guard station and down the corridor, glancing into each of the ten detention rooms. The first four held no surprises—doors open, beds neatly made, a dresser, table, entertainment equipment, food unit, lavatory.

The door to the fifth room was shut. "Room five, Detention, is locked," she said over the commnet. "I'm going in."

"Wait for reinforcements," said K'Raoda.

Ignoring him, she stepped back, aimed carefully and fired, blowing the lock controller away without fusing the lock. She went through the door as it slid open,
Mil
A
levelled.

"And who the hell are you?" said the redhead in the brown K'Ronarin uniform, ignoring the blaster aimed at her chest.

"English," said S'Til, not lowering the weapon. "Is your name M'Kenzie?"

"MacKenzie." She took a step toward S'Til.

The commando officer held up a palm. "Stay there.

"Commander," she said into the communicator. "I need a decon team down here. They had a Terran prisoner."

"Machines have poked, prodded and probed me," said Heather, cheeks flushed. "One especially vile metallic thing was shoved into my . . ."

"Enough!" John held up his hands. "Did Q'Nil tell you w/iy?"

Oblivious to the two Terrans, the medtech was busy at the exam room's lab console, reading Heather's final workup.

"Something about biological vectors," she said, glaring at Q'Nil.

"She's clean," announced Q'Nil in English, looking up from the console. "You can send her home."

"Q'Nil," said John, "tell Heather why you did outrageous things to her body."