The Machine Awakes (44 page)

A single mind is lost to the void.

Forever.

Except—

*   *   *

And then Tyler Smith
opened his eyes and sat up and said, “Time to get out of here.”

 

46

The U-Star
Ultramassive
rocked
as the torpedoes of the U-Star
White Heat,
flying in formation above them, exploded even as they were launched, the firing tubes clogged with Spider drones shed by the giant war machine floating at the very limit of Jupiter's atmosphere, the planet occupying most of the huge viewscreen that curved up over their heads.

Avalon gripped the back of Captain Gartner's chair, the commander of the
Ultramassive
calmly instructing her pilot to take evasive maneuvers. The planet and the other ships of the Fleet arrowhead wheeled and spun as the pilots arced their destroyer away, turning the flank of the ship against the blast from the
White Heat.
The shields held, just, but looking up, Avalon saw the other ship had sustained severe damage along its belly, the crippled craft wheeling around at an angle, entering the Jovian atmosphere in a slow downward spiral.

The battle had been raging for just ten minutes, and already it seemed like they were on the defensive.

Gartner glanced up. “Tractor beam, Mr. Button,” she said. “Stabilize the
White Heat.
”

The FlyEye acknowledged from his sunken console. Twin purple beams shot out ahead of them, enclosing the falling
White Heat
in a shimmering haze. Then the
Ultramassive
turned to port and began to increase its altitude, lifting the other ship clear of Jupiter's cloud deck. It was a slow process, one that left both craft vulnerable to further attack. Already the
White Heat
's top was crawling with Spider drones, the tiny machines swarming over its surface, biting into the herculanium hull. A dozen green beams from the
Ultramassive
began tracking over the
White Heat
's hull, vaporizing the ship's unwanted passengers.

“Good work, Ms. Harper,” the captain said.

“Ma'am,” the weapons op acknowledged. Avalon exhaled slowly. Everyone was so calm, collected. This was the cream of the crop. This was what they were trained to do. They might have been on the defensive, but they were damn well giving it their all.

Avalon looked up to watch the main battle. The other ships in the arrowhead, scattered in the black sky above, were keeping the Spider occupied, buying the
Ultramassive
time to get the
White Heat
out to a safe distance before charging back to the fray.

A flash lit up the entire bridge, the crew all staring up in surprise. The giant display showed nothing but a nova of white, but as it adjusted to compensate, Avalon gasped in horror. Even the crew, so calm and measured, reacted. Even their captain looked shocked.

The Spider had skewered a ship, the U-Star
Beast of All Saints,
directly through the bridge with one leg. The ship nose-dived, the rear swinging up as the front half of the destroyer began to splinter and split off like a breaking branch. The Spider lifted another leg and plunged it through the engine ports. The Spider must have hit the ship's Q-Gen coil directly, as a second later the ship vanished in a flash of pink so bright it overloaded the viewscreen.

Avalon clutched the back of Gartner's chair, knowing that if she let go, she would not be able to stand on her own. The adrenaline surge made her feel sick and dizzy. She was a member of the Bureau, not the Fleet's fighting arms. This was her first direct experience of war, and it was more terrible than she had imagined.

There was a moment of stunned silence on the bridge, the captain looking up at the viewscreen showing nothing but a multicolored haze. Then she stood and walked to the end of the command platform and looked down into the control pits.

“Release the
White Heat
into an escape trajectory. Replot an intercept vector for the alien war machine. Regroup the arrowhead for a coordinated attack.”

She turned on her heel and gestured to her chair. “Take a seat, Commander. This is going to be rough.”

Avalon blinked, and then she nodded and slid around to sit in the captain's chair, her heart thundering in her chest. She glanced down at the armrest controls. “But don't you—”

Gartner held up her hand. “I can command from here.” Then she turned back and began relaying further orders to her crew.

Avalon closed her eyes. She took a breath; then she opened her eyes.

The flare of the Q-Gen coil explosion had cleared from the viewscreen. The
Ultramassive
had repositioned itself in the meantime, heading back into the battle. The Spider was directly ahead.

Avalon swore.

The Spider had lost one leg, and the force of the Q-Gen explosion had sent it on a slow tumble back toward Jupiter. But even as she watched, the megastructure righted itself and rotated so its remaining legs were positioned to meet the arrowhead.

But that was it. A Q-Gen coil, the device that enable the giant starships to punch holes in the fabric of reality and enter quickspace, had exploded right next to the Spider. The instantaneous energy release was almost beyond measurement, but while it had cost the Spider a leg, the machine was otherwise undamaged.

How the hell were they supposed to fight
that?

*   *   *

Kodiak pushed himself backwards
as the Spider sitting in the hangar lifted a pincer and reached toward him. But there was nowhere to go. The Spider was going to slice him in two, and then Tyler. Out of the corner of his eye, Kodiak saw the psi-marine sit up.

Then Kodiak's hands slid out from under him on the frosted floor, and he landed on his back. He looked up and saw the pincer coming straight for him. He wasn't going to get picked up. He was going to get skewered to the hangar floor.

And then the pincer stopped in the air, just a meter from Kodiak's chest. He stared at it for a second, then scrambled backwards, out from underneath the claw.

He instinctively reached for Tyler, but stopped when he saw the marine had his eyes open. He was still, like he was in some kind of trance. It was the same as when his sister had been connected to the JMC computer—Tyler's eyes tracked back and forth like he was watching something happening inside his mind, and his lips moved as he muttered something Kodiak couldn't hear.

The psi-marine was
fighting.

The Spider shook. Kodiak looked up and saw it was balanced on just four legs, the other limbs raised as the massive alien machine prepared to move toward them. But it had stopped, frozen in mid-stride. The orange optics on the Spider's front flared brighter. The machine was fighting too.

It shook again. Tyler gasped, his whole body going stiff, the tendons in his neck standing out like cables, and the Spider shook again. The pincer that had been aimed at Kodiak hit the deck where he had been lying, then pulled back, gouging a jagged tear in the metal hangar floor.

The Spider wobbled on its legs. It took a step backwards, rebalancing. Its optics shone brighter still.

Kodiak, eyewitness to a psychic battle between man and machine, glanced at Tyler. He'd left the marine's sniper rifle down in the gallery by the sleepers, but Tyler still had spare ammunition in a belt across his chest. Kodiak's jaw dropped as he recognized them. Staser power packs. The sniper was just a larger version of Kodiak's own pistol.

Thanking the stars for the Fleet's modular efficiency, Kodiak pulled at the ammo belt, unclipping a staser magazine from Tyler's front. Then he got to his knees and ejected the clip from his staser's grip and slammed the new one home. He disengaged the safety, took aim, and fired.

The stun bolts tore into the Spider's optical array, the energy skittering over the surface like oil on a hot pan, arcing between the orange glassy sensors. He squeezed the trigger, keeping the fusillade going.

The two largest optics, each a meter across, exploded. In a chain reaction, power arced between the array, the smaller optics popping and sparking, exposing circuitry beneath. Kodiak yelled as he stood, raking the innards of the sensor array with staser fire.

The Spider took another step backwards, shaking the hangar, venting exhaust. Beside Kodiak, Tyler stood. Hands clenched into fists by his side, the psi-marine took a step forward, and then another, his face red, teeth clenched, as though he was walking into a hurricane wind. Kodiak matched Tyler's pace, the pair advancing on the machine. Blood dripped from Tyler's hands as his nails dug into his palms and sparks and flame erupted from the front of the Spider as Kodiak drained the staser's new power pack.

The Spider shuddered one final time, then fell backwards as it lost its center of gravity. It hit the hangar deck, the impact throwing Kodiak and Tyler off their feet. The floor of the hangar buckled and tilted, Kodiak and Tyler sliding back toward the Spider. Then the hangar floor beneath the machine began to fail, slowly tearing open with an ear-splitting roar.

Kodiak got to his feet and reached for Tyler. The marine lay on his back, arms outstretched, coughing as he regained the breath that had been knocked out of him.