Colony Lost Page 36

  “I’m aware, but right now, we’ve got little choice in the matter. Once we get everyone out and up to the top of one of these trees, we can let the stuff replenish.”

  “Amen to that,” Phillip said as the marines gathered jar after jar of the organic weaponry. Dustin paused and looked at the group. A single marine stood guard at their backs, observing the depths of the dark, hot jungle as the tired men and women worked with confidence and quiet bravery.

  “I’m so proud of you all. I’m thankful you’re here. I’m proud of what each of you has done here on Selva. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. We’re going to make it. I know it.”

  “Ooh rah.” the female marine who had been up almost the entire night replied. The rest of the men and women present echoed her, and Dustin nodded.

  “When I grow up, I want them to name an all you can eat restaurant chain after me,” Steve said. “Ping-Pong’s Corndog Buffet.”

  Phillip laughed. “Corndogs are your food of choice?”

  Steve looked at Phillip, shocked. “Have you had a properly made corndog? They’re culinary bliss. Before my table tennis tournaments when I was growing up on Pacifica I would hit this little mom and pop corndog place. I only lost on the days I didn’t eat a corndog. I would be lucky to have a fine dining establishment that served them in my name.”

  “The best part about Ping-Pong,” Dustin interrupted, “is that he maintains reasonable, achievable goals.”

  “And I attain them,” Steve added. “I would also like to add my ravishing good looks. Enough nervous banter. People are waiting on us to rescue them.”

  The team piled its gear into the back of the waiting tank as Steve and Dustin affixed their helmets onto their armor. They rubbed their bodies up against the smooth side of the mushroom tower and coated their armor as best as possible. They applied more by hand to each other to cover the dry spots.

  “Driver ready?”

  “Lead on, Vindicator One.”

  Dustin and Steve led the way, and the tank followed, its powerful treads tearing up the soil and vegetation with each passing meter.

  Phillip manned the heavy machine gun, his chest and torso exposed to the open world, protected by nothing more than a thin marine uniform top and a smear of the green goo on his chest and back. On his head he wore the new hat of MEU Epsilon. The same hat Major Duncan had been so proud to wear.

  “Kill anything bigger than knee height on sight, Weatherman. Short and accurate bursts. If you miss what you shoot at, I’m gonna make you go gather the rounds back up and throw them a second time by hand. Make the most of what we got.”

  “Roger that,” Phillip replied. “I’ve got a good arm. We’ll be okay.”

  They rounded the corner of a large storage unit and headed alongside the laboratory toward its rear. Dustin and Steve led, weapons at the ready.

  “Whoa, Ping-Pong! You see that? The lab just settled a centimeter or two. Look at the feet of the building.”

  The two Expeditionary Marines reached the back corner of the lab. Steve went straight to the edge of the building while Dustin swung wide. Behind them the tank crept up as best as a tank could, its tracks clanking and hammering into the ground as subtle as a freight train coming off its rails.

  Steve extended his rifle around the corner and activated the camera system. Dustin tapped into his feed and watched. The pit reached down into the dark earth deep enough for its bottom to disappear from view. At its upper lip skulked multiple rock bugs, plodding back and forth on their bizarre lobster-like bodies, their massive blunt fists coiling in and out with tension, searching for something to strike. The rifle marked their outlines with red, denoting they were threats. Moving among the fattened monsters were several of the leaders, ducking and weaving between the largest of their kind and stepping over the endless army of the skitterers that carried away small amounts of earth. The arrow-faced spitters darted about, cocking their heads and issuing clicking commands. When their orders weren’t carried out fast enough they would use their larger upper arms to pick up and hurl a skitterer to where it needed to be. More than one of their minions were dashed into bits and trampled over in the process. The hole had the feel and buzz of a bee hive, though there was no honey to be gathered.

  “What do we do?” Steve asked, steering the weapon’s camera around the earthen cauldron bubbling over with monsters.

  “Nuke ’em from orbit. But seeing as how we have no nukes and can’t reach orbit, I say we throw a handful of our grenades at them, and send them off. We’ll fall back to the Armadillo and let Weatherman tear up anything that follows.”

  Dustin trotted away back to the tank. “Open up. I need a jar of stuff from each of you. We’re going to flush them out.”

  Phillip reached down and had the marines hand up the jars. He leaned over with arms full and handed them to Dustin. Dustin ran back to Steve and gave him half of the improvised bombs. Then, he fished out the detonator.

  “Ready when you are,” Steve said.

  “Call it clear when you’re out of bombs. Batter up.”

  Dustin stepped around the side of the lab into the open and hurled one jar after another at the insects. His first jar smashed off the hard shoulder of a rock bug and dropped it to the ground. No time lapsed before it started writhing in agony as the spore took root and ripped its flesh apart. His second and third jars went into the pit and disappeared. Steve followed suit and threw his bombs into the fray, one hitting a spitter straight in the face and killing it on the spot. He scattered the rest where Dustin hadn’t thrown his. Not all of the fragile jars broke, and that worked in the marines’ favor.

  “I’m out, blow them,” Steve said.

  Dustin reached down and grabbed the grip of the detonator as he stepped behind the cover of the lab. He thumbed down the red safety and pulled the trigger.

  A wave of deafening crashes erupted, shaking the world far more than the bugs had achieved. A shockwave passed by Steve and Dustin a fraction of a second later, carrying dirt, grass, and the body parts of a hundred aliens. The explosions left a tinny ring in Dustin’s ears despite his suit’s protection, and for a brief moment, he felt nauseous.. He blinked rapidly, hoping it would clear the fog.

  Steve did the same as he held his rifle around the corner of the lab to see what their assault had achieved. One of the larger creatures bolting past the corner of his cover smashed the weapon from his hand. The weapon’s sling yanked on his neck and threw him straight to the ground with savage force as the hulking slaver rushed by, just a meter from Dustin.

  Dustin screamed to his friend and squeezed off a trio of rapid shots at the creature’s face. With its destroyed mandibles and mouth-tubes it wailed in frothy, blood spattering agony and launched several meters forward. It dragged a lifeless Steve by his weapon’s strap as if he were a broken doll. Behind him, Dustin heard and felt the massive heavy machine gun fire a single round. The power of the shell passing so closely tossed him off balance.

  The heavy round smashed the uppermost shoulder of the monster, annihilating the joint and arm in an instant and freeing Steve from further injury. The monster bolted away before Phillip could fire again, disappearing behind an empty hab and beyond. It would die soon. A moment later a stampede of the monsters came, each screaming and hissing as their bodies rotted away under the powerful effect of the spore bombs. In their fear and pain they scratched, bit, and ripped at their own flesh, tearing holes that gave the green poison better access to the softer insides. Several of the creatures collapsed as they tried to escape, nearly crushing Dustin as he grabbed Steve’s leg and dragged him away.

  “Hold fire, hold fire.”

  Phillip obliged, but kept at the ready as the marines inside the tank exited the rear hatch to put more guns in the fight. They spread out and covered the different approaches with their carbines and snapped off a steady stream of shots at the monsters that strayed too close. Some were gunned down as they tried to find safety in the back of the open tank. As
the scope of the unfolding battle grew, Dustin’s suit alerted him that Steve was not doing well. His breathing had become ragged, uneven and shallow. Dustin undid the clasps on his friend’s helmet and took it off. He looked at his face.

  Pale. Cut on his chin. Tongue is nearly bitten off. Airway is clear. Neck may be broken. Something wrong with his skull, too.

  As Steve’s pulse slowed and slowed,

  Dustin’s heart seized as he realized the full scope of his friend’s injuries.

  Another pack of skitterers burst past. Dustin reached out and grabbed one by the neck as it tried to evade him. He made a fist and crushed it to death out of spite. He tossed the body away and returned his attention to Steve. His pulse had dipped again.

  “Dustin! Vindicator One! We gotta move!” Phillip yelled. “Something really big is coming this way!”

  Dustin couldn’t make sense of what to do. Steve’s injuries–if he was right–weren’t survivable. I won’t leave him to die alone. Nope. I’ll die with him if I have to. Melody will understand. I hope my kid will, too.

  “Dustin!”

  The world in front of Dustin went upside down as a massive black edifice dropped from the sky directly in front of him, crushing Steve into the ground. Dustin’s body flew backwards and somersaulted, smashing into the side of the building behind him. Stars danced in front of his eyes and blackness crept in from the edges of his vision. He rolled over–stunned–and looked up at the chest and belly of one of the catapulters.

  As big as the sky and as dark as the night, it prowled over the science habitat, the bottom of its hard stomach a solid meter above the roof and its legs descending down on all sides like bars from an enormous cage. The foot that it destroyed Steve with had shattered the glass jars on the dead man’s body, but the monster seemed unaffected by the slime. Galvanized, Dustin leapt to his feet, ignoring the crushing pain in his body.

  “Light it up!”

  Phillip tilted the tank’sweapon and squeezed the trigger. One after another, the rounds banged out of the long barrel and into the underside of the impossibly large creature. Holes appeared in its belly armor, each leaking a stream of fluid onto the roof of the science hab. The giant spun its flat head and its two windshield-sized eyes down to the tank and Phillip.

  It retaliated.

  It flicked its leg at the Armadillo. The tank flipped over like a shoebox in a hurricane. Phillip was crushed beneath the tank’s enormous weight without a sound, or a chance to escape. The marines standing nearby stopped firing and stood in shock.

  “Get in! Get inside! You can’t kill it!”

  Dustin turned to see Micah Balashov screaming from the side of the lab near the airlock door.

  Dustin bolted on shaky legs in the shadow of the monster and urged the remnants of the marine complement forward. They ran–desperate–rounding the corner of the lab and following Micah into the airlock door. The outer hatch sealed and pressurized, and the inner door opened. Inside, hid the people they’d come to rescue.

  Outside, the gargantuan catapulter stomped its enormous legs about, searching for the thing that bit its belly. The monster kicked the side of the hab, sending the building skidding to the side and into the hole the monsters had dug. The capsule tilted and slid downward, sending everyone inside all over, like debris in a vehicle crash. Dustin grabbed a steel railing near the airlock door and held on for his life. When the building came to a rest, angled and uneven, cries of pain and terror came. Those not in pain shushed those who were, and in the crooked shadows, in bent silence, they waited once more for the end.

  The steady booming of the giant monster striding about above them shook the ground, and made them wince and sob.

  Dustin had never wanted a corndog more in his life.

  His helmet hid his tears.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  High orbit of Selva, TOF Titan

  27 December 163 GA

  Andy Morris spun the wheel at the center of the sanctum’s exterior hatch. At his back was the locked inner door and beyond that, the claustrophobic crew that begged to get out into the larger ship. He pushed the door open with a grunt. Outside in the huge expanse of the freighter’s cargo bay blackness cloaked everything. Sixteen days of seclusion inside their reinforced compartment had bought the crew that pirated Titan enough time to pass through the worst of the storms with their stolen ship and, they hoped, arrive near Selva.

  The job of heading to the bridge and seeing where they were fell to Andy. He took a deep breath.

  He grabbed the rope that tied the sanctum door to the forward passageway and fed his bulky suit-covered body along. A few strong tugs and he crossed the gulf. He grabbed the rail in the hall and continued along the narrow passage.

  After several minutes of silent, weightless travel, alone with his thoughts, the sound of his breathing and his helmet-mounted flashlight illuminating the cavernous interior of the ship, he reached the bridge. A lubricated spin of the locking mechanism later and he opened the heavy door to enter it.

  The harsh light of the sun in the bridge immediately triggered the darkening element of his helmet’s visor, saving his corneas from the scalding rays beaming through the forward bridge windows. He blinked his eyes back into a functioning state and pushed himself to the center of the bridge, over Leah’s command chair, and to the window.

  Not far off (in celestial terms), and dominating the starboard side of Titan rotated the green orb of Selva. Titan moved on an intercept trajectory to meet the planet as it orbited.

  “I think we’re good. Maybe a bit off course, but I think a day’s burn will move us back in line.” He smiled.

  Andy kicked off the front wall of Titan’s bridge and drifted over to the engineering console. He reached down with his gloved hand and pulled one of two Gauss meters from a pouch on his hip as he sat in his chair. He tapped the power switch with a fat finger, and the device’s LCD screen powered on.

  “Alrighty, baby. Show me some good news.”

  Andy popped out the sensor from the side of the device and held it over the console. The numbers on the screen danced up and down a bit, then settled in at a higher-than-normal–but harmless–reading of electromagnetic radiation. Even better, the heightened radiation would be minimally disruptive to the electronics on board.

  “Jackpot.” They had succeeded in piercing the destructive field around Selva. He could power on the less-sensitive systems without fear and, within a few hours, the rest of the ship.

  The whole process would take a good amount of time, and with a smile Andy strapped his ass into the seat and put his legs up on the console to endure the process of controlling an ancient and massive freighter as it traveled to a planet during its initial colonization.

  “It isn’t every day a kid from Pawtuckaway Township from Phoenix is given control of an ancient and massive freighter as it travels towards a planet during its initial colonization. Small town boy does good. My brothers are gonna love hearing about this. When I get out of prison.”

  Andy was going to savor every moment.

  Many hours later, Capt. Leah Kingsman turned to the astrophysicist, Dr. Herbert Maine.

  “Can I get an update on the situation, Doctor?”

  “Will you give me time? These calculations are paramount. A small error means we burn up in the orbit of Selva. There is too much at stake for me to endure your interruptions, Captain. I will not be rushed or pressured.”

  Leah snickered. “Doctor, as you’re aware, the longer we take the closer we get to the sun, and the further we move away from Selva. Time is something we don’t have an abundance of.”

  Maine huffed at his computer on the fringe of the bridge. He tapped a furious string of information into a series of programs and continued his work. He ignored the silence of people waiting for him.

  “Herbert, I’m glad you’re here. There’s no one else I want crunching those numbers. And I’m sure you’ll be right, and you’re almost done.”

  “Thank you. Lt. Clin
e. I am almost completed.”

  Melody looked at Leah and winked. Leah stifled a laugh and waited patiently for the good doctor to finish his work. A minute later, he tapped on his screen several times, and made a noise that sounded like a grunt of success.

  “Are we good?” Leah asked.

  “Yes, Captain, we are good. I have sent over the information to navigation.”

  “Got it,” Melody said. Beside her at the primary pilot console sat Dan, her Captain from Beagle. “Dan we’re going to need a correction and solid burn. On your screen now.”

  “Roger. I see it,” Dan replied.

  Far in the rear of Titan the engines fired up, shaking the ship and putting everyone’s hairs on edge.

  “Coming around now. Doctor, this is genius,” Dan said. “We’re only off course by a degree and a half. You threw a dart out the window of your office on Pioneer 3 and landed a bull’s eye on Selva. Gifted.”

  “A degree and a half might not sound like much, Mr. Aribella, but over a few million kilometers the deviation becomes unacceptable. We were fortunate we entered the chamber going somewhat faster than I had anticipated. Somehow, it all worked out Lieutenant,” Herbert declared.

  “It’s Captain, Doctor,” Dan said. “Captain Aribella.”

  “Not on my bridge it’s not. In Herbert we trust.”

  “Thank you for your faith, Captain. Now please, take me to a planet I thought I would never step foot on.”

  “It’s a beautiful place,” Melody said as she monitored Dan’s flight corrections. “if you can overlook some of the assholes we left behind.”

  “Are you talking about your husband?” Dan joked.

  “I will stab you.”

  “Communications, start hailing the colony as soon as we can,” Leah said.

  “They’re on the other side of the world right now. It’ll take six hours for them to rotate where we can reach them,” Andy informed her.

  “Well that’s as soon as we can then, isn’t it? My order stands. Alright everyone. We’re on the porch. Let’s get ready to go home for dinner and root out the little prick that tried to kill us.”