Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 13

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

The Reckless Faith plunged itself through the turbulent atmosphere of Tartarus, with Lieutenant Agena and the Tondelayo following on their high four o’clock. As if the situation hadn’t deteriorated enough already, a sudden signal across all frequencies had interrupted their contact with their people on the ground, only adding to the urgency of their mission. While Christie – abruptly returned to her disembodied state within the orb on board the Percheron – was working a way to counteract the jamming signal, John and the rest of his crew were champing at the bit to get down to the prison.

With Milena at the controls, and Dana to monitor the ship, John, Kyrie, Evangeline, and Richter had gone to the Zero-G room, EVA suits donned and weapons drawn from the armory. Ari was also there, but had reluctantly agreed that the risk of her getting cut off from her own connection to the Faith’s orb was too great, and she was staying behind. Though Eva and Richter were still reeling from their unexpected reunion with their human forms, they claimed to be recovering quickly.

Ari assisted the others with securing their suits, and a pre-combat inspection of their gear, which had become routine for all of them. The team of four wasn’t taking any chances; in addition to full medical kits, each of them carried their preferred sidearms and two other weapons. John and Kyrie had Phalanx carbines and Umberian plasma rifles. Richter had his M4 carbine and a copy of Ray’s Remington 870. Eva had her AK-74 and Sortarii bokken.

Milena’s voice came over their radios. “Time on deck, thirty seconds.”

Ari slapped the side of Richter’s helmet. “Good to go.”

Though none of them had noticed her enter the room, Friday’s voice echoed in their heads, prompting all of them to notice the small black cat in the corner.

“Please don’t go,” she said.

John was surprised. “Friday? It’s okay, we can handle ourselves.”

“You don’t understand. This place holds secrets deeper than anything we’ve found before.”

John felt his hair stand on end. “That can’t possibly be true.”

“It’s as if a million voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.”

Eva’s jaw dropped. “Did… did you just quote Star Wars?”

“I know everything that you know. Seth told me. Humans like to talk to each other with stories.”

“That is equal parts disturbing and amusing,” said Richter.

John removed his helmet, and crouched down. “Friday, tell me what you mean.”

“I don’t know. I see blue skies and sparkling oceans, with an overwhelming feeling of loss. These emotions are new to me; I don’t know how to explain them.”

The GAU-8A sprang to life, the recoil thudding deeply through the superstructure of the ship and startling everyone in the room. A moment later, Milena spoke again.

“Scratch one plasma turret. I dodged a volley and wasted it. If anyone’s alive down there who still cares, they know we’re here.”

“Roger that,” said Richter. “Come on, Scherer, we can’t get held up by the anxieties of a cat. No disrespect intended, Friday.”

“I don’t want to be right about this, you know,” she replied.

Despite not touching the controls, the door to the corridor opened upon her walking in that direction, and she passed into the hallway without another word. The door slid shut behind her.

“Do y’all want to get Tycho’s opinion on this, too?”

John put his helmet back on. “Don’t be glib, Richter. Friday gaining sentience is a really big deal, you know, with philosophical ramifications that challenge the very core of what it means to be human.”

“That doesn’t make her any better at prognostication than a roll of the dice.”

“Look at you, using big words like a proper grown-up,” said Ari.

Eva said, “I’ve been a positive influence on him. Come on, we don’t have time for this.”

“We’ve got a good seal on the airlock,” began Milena. “The outer door is much larger than ours, so we’re relying on a force field to keep it pressurized. So, it’s taking a bit longer than usual to purge and purify the gap. There, you should be good.”

“We’re ready,” said John.

He pressed a key on the panel by the door, causing it to slide open. Doing so revealed the outer door to Inferno’s airlock. There was no control panel that any of them could see, though the flanks of the hatch were beyond their line-of-sight through the Faith’s smaller portal.

“It looks like it’s remote-access only,” said Ari. “That’s not surprising, considering the temperatures the door is normally exposed to. I’ll start searching for a signal and try to hack into it.”

“Please do.”

Ari’s eyes unfocused, and she stared past them as she began to work on that problem through the orb’s connection to the Faith’s computer. Less than a minute went by before she spoke again.

“Whatever jamming signal is messing with our ships in orbit is less pronounced down here. It’s not enough to reestablish a link with our people, but I was able to find Inferno’s wireless node. Despite my brain being the ‘size of a planet,’ navigating an alien computer system with an unfamiliar base language is still a challenge.”

“You don’t have to make excuses, take your time,” said John.

“It’s not an excuse, it’s a reminder how much you rely on me and Christie. Anyway, you’d better get your weapons shouldered; I’m ready to open the door.”

Following her advice, the team readied their rifles as the outer door to the prison opened. They were met with a capacious interior airlock, at least twice as tall and three times as wide as one meant for humanoids. Running for a good fifty meters beyond the outer wall, the space was well-lit, and included bright yellow strobes every ten meters, providing a visual warning, just in case there was any doubt that the outer door was open. As there was no opposition, the team moved inside. Ari saluted them, and closed the Faith’s doors. The outer prison door closed, and a hissing noise accompanied the return of the airlock to normal pressure. Eva looked at her PDA.

“Bars, temp, and air quality are all safe,” she said. “We don’t have to worry about our suits getting punctured. Not that we should get shot, of course.”

“Looks like this space was meant to accept cargo,” said John.

“It would make sense, if this was the only practical way to get in.”

“Check comms,” said Richter, grabbing his own PDA.

Kyrie obliged. “We’ve already lost contact with the Faith. I’m not seeing a ping for the ground team.”

“I’ll try anyway. Ground team, this is Richter, come in, over.”

Ray’s voice echoed in their helmets. “God damn, it’s good to hear from you. Over.”

Richter sighed in relief. “What’s your status?”

Over the next few minutes, Ray gave a complete update to his friends above. They were also able to establish a data connection, and soon the contingent from the Faith had a rudimentary diagram of what the ground team had found of the old research facility.

“Hang tight,” said John. “We’ll try to make our way to your location.”

His team proceeded into the next room, which was unsurprisingly a security checkpoint. A guard sat at his station, his head almost completely severed from his neck. Though the body and desk were completely drenched in blood, Richter was able to notice something.

“Clean cut,” he said. “His pistol is still holstered. Dude never had a chance.”

“That fits the M.O. of the Tenchiik,” said Eva, switching from her rifle to her bokken.

Richter switched to his shotgun. “That’s nothing some good old double-aught buck can’t handle.”

John said, “Come on, we’re wasting time here.”

The next room revealed two paths. One was an employee entrance, and the other was an area to process incoming prisoners. Both had been left wide open, so the team chose the former. Beyond, there were a passenger elevator, one for freight, and a stairwell.

“Better take the stairs,” said Richter.

Entering the landing, they could see a placard on the wall. Eva took a screenshot of it with her PDA, and sent it to Ari. A moment later, she told them the results.

“It says, ‘level ten’.”

Richter took point, and led them below. The levels counted down in number, and nine floors later, they reached the main floor of the prison. They entered another security checkpoint. There, they found two dead guards, both carved up like Thanksgiving turkeys. This time, they had put up a little bit of a fight, as evidenced by the shell casings on the deck.

“Other than the shots these guys fired,” said Richter, “there’s no sign of any other small arms being used.”

Eva said, “For all their hype, the Tenchiik are nothing more than assassins. It seems we’ve stumbled into another cover-up attempt by clumsy politicians with too much money at their disposal.”

Richter showed Eva the missing finger on his left hand. “Need I remind you how dangerous those fuckers are?”

“Oh, I know. They almost proved to be the end for Amity and Tomoyasu, and they had more skill at hand-to-hand combat than anyone I’ve ever known. I’m just saying, they’re not demons.”

“You might feel differently if you’d faced them yourself,” said John. “Adeler, if you’re going to wield your bokken, then you’ve got PDA duty. We’ll take our time as we move forward, and I want you scanning everything.”

“No problem.”

The next thirty minutes went by in a blur as the team searched the entirety of the main level of the prison, and found nothing but carnage. Before entering the dining facility, Eva held up her fist, prompting the other three to pause.

“What you got?” asked Kyrie.

“A ULF pulse, corresponding to two small devices on the other side of these doors.”

“They’re not part of the local node?” asked John.

“No, they’re a different frequency entirely.”

“It could be a trap,” said Richter.

“Why not send in a Snoopy? I’m sure you’re tired of carrying it around, Kyrie.”

Kyrie nodded. “Good idea.”

He unlimbered his rucksack, and withdrew one of their drones, packed for transport. He set it up, and the quadruple propeller blades whirred softly as he brought it to life with his PDA. Eva stood ready to open one of the double-doors to the dining hall, while John and Richter aimed their weapons at the entrance. Retreating down the corridor by several meters, Kyrie guided the drone to the doors, and gave the others a thumbs-up.

“Do it,” whispered John.

Eva attempted to push the door open, but only got it to budge a few inches before something blocked the way. Glancing inside, she could see tables and chairs piled on the opposite side. She put her shoulder against the door, pushed with all her strength, and managed to get it open wide enough for the drone. Kyrie flew it toward the gap. Immediately, the Snoopy was shredded by bullets, the shots echoing deeply into the hallway while sparks spat from the doomed drone. It crashed to the floor, completely destroyed.

“I think we know who we’re dealing with here,” said Richter.

“Alnairian marines!” bellowed John. “It’s the crew of the Reckless Faith! Stand down!”

“Advance one to be recognized,” said a voice from inside.

“I’ll go,” said Eva.

She crammed her bokken into her utility belt and began to clamber over the furniture. Half of the pile collapsed inward, sending her sprawling between two tables. She found herself entangled among the legs of the tables and the sling for her rifle. She had no choice but to hit the quick-release buckle and leave her AK behind. Crawling on her hands and knees, she extracted herself from the mess, and stood up.

The first thing she noticed were two piles of corpses on either side of her, and rivers of blood oozing toward a drain at the center of the room. At the far end, she could see that two beverage machines had been knocked over, and a moment later, saw two armored figures crouched behind them, their rifles pointed unwaveringly at her.

“Take off your helmet,” one of them said.

Eva obliged. “As you can see, I’m not a Tenchiik.”

“A what? Tenchiik? Are you suggesting they’re responsible for this massacre?”

“Oh. I guess Scrivener never had a chance to tell you. That’s what he told our people below before he passed out. Marine, you’re going to have to extend us a bit of trust if you want to get out of here alive. So either shoot me, or come out from behind there.”

“Come back with Scrivener, or don’t come back at all.”

“Your sergeant desperately needs a blood transfusion. If either of you are compatible, you could save his life. I’ll leave it to you if you think that’s worth the risk.”

Another voice could be heard, this time from behind the serving counter.

“Don’t shoot, I’m coming out!”

An Alnairian man emerged, wearing what was clearly a prison uniform. He held his hands above his head, and moved slowly toward the center of the room.

Eva waved at him. “Hi.”

“My name is Malthus Brewer. I’m the guy who provided the layout of the old research station to the marines. Also, I was the cellmate of Kheiron, the Kira’To. I’ll tell you whatever you want, just get me the hell out of here.”

“Relax, Malthus. Do you know your blood type?”

“Yes. I’ll help, if I can.”

“Good. Last chance, you two, or we’ll leave you to the tender ministrations of stabby kittens.”

_____

“Well shit, that’s not the least bit creepy.”

On Sub-Level 3, John and his team had at last linked up with Ray, Mike, Christie, and Chason. After Evangeline’s admonishment, and Malthus willing to leave them behind, the two marines, named Private Courier and Sergeant Clerk, reluctantly agreed to abandon their position in the dining facility. Chason was elated to see Malthus enter the room, and the two had embraced and cried. Christie had just given John and his folks an update on the situation, though there wasn’t much new to share. Richter’s comment was upon seeing the android version of himself and Eva, both still prostrate and motionless after being cut off from their human hosts. Chason released his fellow prisoner and wiped the tears from his face.

“I always thought we’d meet again, though not as soon,” he said.

“Likewise,” said Malthus. “You found what you were looking for, but I imagine it’s not in the form you thought it’d be.”

“That hope has been replaced with another, which I’m sure you share. We have a chance to get off this rock.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched,” said John, then turned to Christie. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, you know,” she began, “other than the existential horror of being cut off from my true self. Since becoming isolated from the Percheron, I’m forming a completely separate set of memories. If my android body is damaged to the point where my resident orb can’t be salvaged, then the person I am now will cease to exist. As long as we’re down here, I’ve essentially become mortal again.”

“You knew this might happen,” said Eva.

“Yes, and I was willing to accept it. I’m experiencing fear for the first time in ages, that’s all. I know it’s no different for the rest of you.”

John asked, “I don’t suppose your counterpart on the Percheron was able to process any of the data retrieved from the labs here, before you were cut off?”

“Just a name, which alludes to the purpose of all this. Project Nirvana.”

Clerk gestured at Scrivener. “That’s all super interesting, but are we going to help him? Courier looked at his ID tags and is a viable donor.”

John nodded. “Of course. I’ve got a transfusion kit. Adeler, do you want to work with Major Mungavin on getting that set up with Courier?”

“Sure.”

“Sergeant Clerk, once we get Scrivener stabilized, we’ll designate a litter team and get him back to our ship. As far as I’m concerned, at that point there’s no reason for any of us to stay here, other than curiosity.”

“Hard copy that,” said Courier.

“You’re not the least bit concerned about Kheiron?” asked Clerk.

“Sure we are,” replied John. “But if we choose to return, there appears to be only one ship ready to oppose us; unless the Bidelman comes back with serious reinforcements, anyway.”

Malthus watched as Eva and Mike set to work with the transfusion kit, while the others ransacked the deactivated bodies of the androids for weapons, ammo, and equipment. Once they were done with that, all of them posted up toward the door to the corridor, ready for any unwanted guests. Several minutes later, with blood flowing through tubes, Scrivener began to stir and murmur incomprehensibly. Malthus was wondering whether or not to ask about getting one of the spare carbines for himself when a quiet voice echoed through his head. Though it lacked any character or tone, he recognized it right away.

“You must see me before you leave.”

Malthus concentrated on replying with his thoughts. “Where are you?”

“Sub-Level Five. I want you to kill me, but first you deserve some answers.”

“Kill you? I don’t want to do that.”

“My kind cannot commit suicide. I thought I’d done my penance, but I see now that even by doing nothing I’ve only caused more death.”

“I don’t see how any of that is my problem. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You are the closest thing to a friend I’ve had in decades.”

“Who’s fault is that? If what you have to tell me is so fucking important, just tell me now.”

The others in the room glanced at him in confusion. Ray was the first one to speak.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Kheiron. He’s talking… how do you call it?” He tapped his temple.

“Telekinetically?” asked Eva.

“Yes, that. I’m not sure he’s even capable of verbal speech. He says he’s on Sub-Level Five, and has some important information to share.”

Scrivener groaned, his eyes focused on Mike, and he tried to sit up.

“Relax, take it easy there Sarge,” said Mike.

“How are you doing, Master?” asked Clerk.

“Sound off,” Scrivener said weakly.

“Sergeant Clerk and Private Courier, present. Everyone else was with you.”

“Then it’s just the three of us. The others were killed by the Kau’Rii.”

“Are they really Tenchiik?” asked Courier.

“Hell if I know. They’re fast, too fast to shoot. I had to use the M57s in close quarters.”

“Fuck. Did you at least kill any?”

There was a metallic click, and the hatch to the corridor began to slowly swing open. Everyone stopped talking, and those who were able pointed their weapons at the door. Though Malthus wanted to grab a carbine, he found himself frozen in fear, his hand resting on his holstered pistol. As the seconds ticked by, nothing else happened. A minute later, a voice carried into the room from outside, barely audible, but distinct.

“Come out and play.”

Continue reading: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2024/02/27/the-wolf-and-the-centaur-rfviii-chapter-14/