Silent Star, page 27
“Do you see those gray patches?” General Knox asked Lieutenant Brown.
“Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Brown.
“Do those look like holes to you?”
Lieutenant Brown took a long time to reply.
“Yes, sir, I believe they are. Look at that large one near the UNOB’s equator. I think I can see a light inside.”
“That is a light! I think we blew a hole in that mother,” General Knox said.
“Is that right, sir?” Airman Noble said. “Wish I could see it.”
“Not just one hole, Airman,” General Knox said. “That damn thing has holes all over it.”
Airman Noble whooped into his microphone.
“They picked on the wrong damn species, didn’t they, sir?” Airman Noble said.
“We took it to them, that’s for sure,” General Knox said.
The General did not disabuse the airman, letting him celebrate the partial victory. Despite the damage, it was clear the nearer UNOB could still fly, and the original UNOB still flew somewhere, its condition unknown. With Freedom Station in pieces, and even the SBLs destroyed, Earth was virtually defenseless. With only a few space mines and a small arsenal of air-to-space missiles that could not reach this orbit, the Earth was a sitting duck.
“General Knox,” Airman Noble called. “I think I can string together some of the wiring and a couple of tethers. It might be long enough to reach you and the Lieutenant.”
“Good thinking,” General Knox said.
The activity gave Noble a sense of purpose but was ultimately useless. Even if General Knox and Lieutenant Brown could be reeled in, they would merely wait to die without the good view.
“Sir, how big would you estimate that ship is?” Lieutenant Brown asked.
“It’s bigger than the original UNOB,” General Knox said.
“Yes, sir, it is. Do you think it is as big as an aircraft carrier?”
“No,” General Knox said. “Maybe a third of that. Why?”
“We just didn’t have enough firepower,” Lieutenant Brown said. “Even nuclear weapons weren’t enough.”
“Warfare in a vacuum is something we don’t have much experience with,” General Knox said. “If we could get hull contact a nuclear weapon would have disintegrated those ships, but our missiles didn’t have the maneuverability to avoid defensive fire and were either destroyed, or detonated too early. We knew that would be a problem. Our kinetic warheads probably did most of that damage. The bigger holes might be from shaped charges that made it through their defensive battery. We just didn’t have time to develop the kinds of weapons needed for this kind of battle, let alone the technology to lift them into orbit.”
“That’s why you sent Captain Linkletter in Interceptor,” Lieutenant Brown said.
“Yes. His mission was to blow the UNOB from the inside. Of course there was only one UNOB when he and his crew were launched. If only he could have completed his mission when there was still only one.”
With a bright flash, the bulbous hull of the closer UNOB ruptured, spewing atmosphere and particles. Split along a seam just below the UNOB’s equator, the eruption acted as a jet, slowly rotating the UNOB. Briefly, the jet pointed straight at the gun module before rotating away.
“What the hell?” General Knox said.
“That looks bad,” Lieutenant Brown said.
“That looks fatal,” General Knox said with satisfaction.
“What looks bad? What looks bad, sir?” Airman Noble called from deep in the pod.
“The nearer UNOB just exploded,” General Knox said.
“Whoop, whoop, whoop!” Airman Noble yelled with an ear-piercing screech. “We did it. It must be a delayed reaction.”
“Maybe,” General Knox said.
“Incoming,” Lieutenant Brown said suddenly, pointing, and then leaning into the module.
Almost too late, General Knox spotted a stream of objects coming form the UNOB. Starting on their right, debris machine-gunned the module.
Even through thickly gloved hands, General Knox felt some of the impacts. Like the stream from a sand blaster, particles from the ruptured UNOB scoured the surface, moving inexorably toward General Knox. Mimicking Lieutenant Brown, General Knox leaned into the module, leaving as little exposed as possible.
“Airman Noble, take cover,” General Knox radioed.
Constant impacts built in intensity. Freedom Station vibrated, then quivered and then shook with such force that General Knox feared shaking loose. Now small particles impacted his gloved hands, which held him to the edge of the gap and then streamed through the hole in exterior wall. General Knox pushed himself deeper inside, hanging by one hand. Even a small puncture in his suit would be fatal but if he let go he could float into the stream. Something big hit the jagged edge of the hole, impaling on a twisted piece of metal.
The rain of debris passed across the opening, and then along the ruined sections of Freedom Station. Giving it a few seconds for safety, Lieutenant Brown and General Knox waited, hanging by one hand. Then they pulled themselves back to the opening to look at the object stuck to the edge. It was a giant insect.
“Is it one of them?” Lieutenant Brown asked.
“According to the last communications from Interceptor, there were at least three types of aliens in the UNOB.”
“All this ugly?”
“I don’t know,” General Knox said, his mind wandering.
General Knox doubted Freedom Station’s weapons could trigger a delayed explosion like the one that had ripped open this UNOB. More likely, Captain Linkletter and his crew had set it off. Looking to the original UNOB, General’s Knox nursed his hopes. If Captain Linkletter and his crew were still alive, could they pull off another miracle?
Chapter 49: Slaughter
UNOB
Earth Orbit
Disembodied, Link roiled with embarrassment and fear. Embarrassment over his behavior under the rodent medication, and fear for his crew and the rodent-aliens he had come to think of as allies. Through breeding and conditioning, the rodent-aliens could not stop themselves from repairing, so they repaired the UNOB, the Interceptor, Link and his crew, and their injured masters. However, Link could see the rodents testing the limits of their conditioning, giving the humans help that went above and beyond training.
His mind racing, Link feared what waited at the end of the transport. The UNOB was the only place to transport. With aliens in control of the UNOB, Link imagined several scenarios waiting for them. The humans ended up dead in all of them. Then Link was whole again.
For a blessed second Link believed in miracles. Standing in a mass of squirming rodent-aliens, Link swept the cavern, laser rifle and rifle-arm parallel--empty. Scooter crawled into the fuzzy pig-pile looking for Little Red. Gains moaned from the floor. Riley swung his big laser right and left relentlessly, searching for something to kill. Ramirez stood by Link, XM8 cocked and ready, covering the control room doors. His weapon ready, Westbrook stood on the other side of Link, head down, pained by the suffering of the injured rodents.
“This didn’t have to happen,” Westbrook said. “God loves each of us.”
“I just hope he loves us a little more,” Riley said, his laser in constant motion.
“Little Red, Little Red,” Scooter said over and over from somewhere in the pile.
Three red rodents attended wounded comrades, while several gray rodents broke for the rodent tunnels. When the first of the gray rodents reached a hatch, the hatch did not open. Whimpering, the rodents tried to force it. Then examining the grate, rodents pulled tools. Before they could fix the hatch all of the doors in the cavern except the control room doors opened and the massacre began.
Riley, Ramirez and Link opened fire simultaneously, each taking different targets. Tardy again, Westbrook joined the fight. With their backs to the control room doors, they risked getting flanked, but had little choice since the attack was ferocious. Approaching from three angles, insect-aliens raced along walls and up and across the ceiling, triangulating fire. Massed around the human core, rodent-aliens took the brunt of the fire, squealing, sizzling, dying. Red rodents ran from comrade to comrade, risking death to save lives.
The rodent-aliens by the grate rushed back toward the mass, their instincts sending them to the herd. Insect-aliens cut them down as they ran, leaving a trail of carcasses back to the center. Partially protected by a living wall, the humans fought for their lives and the lives of their allies. Rodent bodies piled up as the insect-aliens advanced with machine speed. Rodent-aliens climbed over the dead, cowering, squealing and dying themselves. On the floor, Scooter huddled with Little Red, and then fumbled off his pack, finding the module given to him by the rodent-aliens. Plugging it into a port and typing furiously Scooter shouted to the others.
“This will bring them down!”
Three seconds later insect-aliens rained from the ceiling and tumbled from the walls. Falling onto the advancing ranks of insect-aliens, the living bombs knocked holes into the ranks. Somehow, Scooter had turned off the insect-alien augments. Taking advantage, the humans concentrated on those still standing. Despite heavy casualties, the insect-alien advance continued across the floor.
Partially conscious, Gains lifted heavy eyelids, confused by the chaos around him. Shoving rodent-alien bodies aside, Gains sat.
“Stay down, Gains,” Link shouted.
Concentrating on Riley and the big laser, a dozen insect-aliens spat fire. Rodent-aliens took much of the punishment, but the firepower overwhelmed the mass. Riley took multiple hits, his protective armor smoking, the red and blue of the Pepsi logo on the back of the power pack burned black. Suddenly, Riley’s laser exploded in his hand. Riley yelped, grasped his injured hand and then fought off the pain, knowing there was no time for suffering. Reaching for the XM8 still strapped to his back, Riley managed to pull it off but dropped it when his right sleeve caught fire. Slapping out the flames, Riley reached for the Desert Eagle on his hip. Peppered with laser fire, Riley fell back, disappearing into the pile of rodents.
Semi-conscious, Gains crawled over rodent bodies, pulling Riley’s XM8 from the mass. Cocking the rifle, Gains laid on his back for a few seconds, clearing his head. Then he stood. A tall man, and only half-aware, Gains made a fat human target. Laser fire poured in from three angles.
“Get down!” Link shouted too late.
A laser beam passed through Gains’ throat. Shocked, Gains froze, hands to his neck, weapon falling.
“Scooter, get him down!” Link shouted.
Scooter crawled over dead rodents to Gains, reached up and took him by the belt, pulling him over. As he did, lasers burned into his face, one exiting his cheek. Gains landed hard, lying still.
Ramirez fell next, her body armor failing, her leg igniting. Ignoring the flames as long as she could, she fought until yellow tongues licked her face. Then she dropped, rolling to put out the flames.
Westbrook stooped to help Ramirez, beating out the flames. Then he paused, looking at the carnage. Dropping his weapon he stood with both hands high.
“In the name of Jesus, stop, I beg you,” Westbrook said, emerging from the mass.
As if one, most of the laser fire switched to Westbrook. Even with the protective coating taken from the aliens, Westbrook’s body armor could not absorb that much energy and the armor sizzled, and melted. Still holding his hands high, a beam burned through his right hand, slicing off two fingers. His body armor failed then, a chunk dropping from his shoulder and Westbrook fell onto the pile of rodents.
Huddled behind dead and dying rodent-aliens, surrounded by the squeals of the suffering, Link fired his rifle arm and his other laser, wounding as many as he could. Occasionally, a lucky shot would slice off a limb, or puncture an alien helmet, giving Link some satisfaction but the outcome was assured. The rifle in his right hand lost power. Tossing it aside, Link used his rifle-arm until it sputtered out. Link sank into the writhing mass, helpless. Fumbling for his pistol, Link had it half out of his holster when he was grabbed.
Insect-aliens dragged Link from the mass of carcasses toward the control room doors. Behind him a smoking pile of bodies still churned. A single red rodent climbed over the pile, ministering here and there. Link could see a pair of human legs in the mass. Gains, he thought. No sign of the others.
Dropped outside the control room door, the mass of insect-aliens parted and the control room doors opened, a single insect-alien framed in the doorway. Like the one who had severed his arm on the warship, the alien’s body armor was marked with silver runes, looking like sprinkled glitter. This was the largest insect-alien Link had seen.
Staring with multifaceted eyes, mandibles making pincer movements, the commander studied Link. With the residual medication still affecting his thinking, Link stared back defiantly, like a fighter before a fight.
“Go to hel,” Link said.
Tilting its insect head, the alien studied Link from another angle. Moving from the doorway, another insect-alien came out of the control room, whistling and clicking. Like the first, he wore a sprinkle of glitter. At his command, soldiers grabbed Link, stretching him out. Link knew that position and what would happen next.
Tilting its head, the alien studied Link’s rifle arm. Giving an order, a soldier squatted, fumbled with the silver ring, and then pulled the arm from the sockets. It felt like Link’s arm had been ripped off and he gasped, wishing for some of the rodents’ goofy-medicine.
The commander took the rifle-arm, turning it over and over, concentrating on the prongs that plugged into Link’s silver ring. With no readable change in emotion, the insect stomped its foot. No rodents responded. Stomping hard, the insect-alien kept up the pounding. Eventually, a large gray rodent separated from the huddled mass, dragging a back foot. Cowering, its belly scraped the floor. Holding out the rifle-arm, the insect-alien spoke rapidly. The rodent-alien trembled with fear. After a long speech, the insect-alien waved at a soldier who stepped forward and burned a hole through the rodent’s head.
“Damn you,” Link shouted, struggling to get up.
Kicks and punches rained, Link curling into a ball. Eventually the punishment stopped. A soldier came forward, carrying Scooter’s laptop, a strange module stuck in the side. The commander took the laptop, studied it briefly and then pulled out the module. Dropping the computer, the commander turned the module over and over. Now he stomped his foot again.
“Punish me!” Link shouted. “I made them do it.”
Insect-aliens pounded him silent. After repeated stomps, another gray rodent separated from the mass, belly crawling to the commander. Another long speech followed and then the rodent was executed. Devastated, Link blamed himself for the deaths.
The insect-alien in the doorway spoke again, the commander listening. Then the commander turned toward the mass of bodies in the center of the transport room, giving an order. Dragging the pile apart, insect-aliens found Ramirez, lifting her. Ramirez gasped when they did, grimacing as they pulled her across the floor, dropping her next to Link. Landing on her face, she rolled over, tears in her eyes. The body armor on her left thigh was half melted. Link could see bloody flesh through gaps. Now the insect-aliens stripped her, cutting off her armor and clothes. Ramirez screamed when they ripped the body armor from her left thigh, a strip of flesh coming with it. Cutting and tearing, they left her in her underwear and boots. Dropping her, they let her writhe on the ground. While she clutched her leg, Link saw multiple wounds including burns on her cheek, arms and chest.
“You gonna live?” Link asked.
“For a while,” Ramirez said, fighting back tears.
A kick in the back shut Link up. Now the commander studied Ramirez with the same intensity given to Link. Exchanging clicks with the insect-alien in the doorway, they discussed something. Suddenly, multiple whistles and clicks came from the control room, the commander stomping inside. Other insect-aliens crowded forward. Before they blocked his view, Link saw images of the warship on the wall. Ruptured and venting gas, the ship slowly rotated like a chicken roasting on a spit.
“Good job,” Link whispered to Ramirez.
“It was Scooter,” Ramirez whispered back, her eyes moist.
“I wish one of the red ones would give you what they gave me,” Link said.
Ramirez shook her head violently.
“It turned you into a teenager,” Ramirez said. “A nerdy teenager.”
“Yeah, let’s not talk about that.”
More aliens crowded forward, looking into the control room, seeing the destruction of their ship. Four kept weapons on the humans but cocked their heads listening.
“How are the others?” Link whispered.
“Gains is dead,” Ramirez said. “I don’t know about Riley. He hasn’t moved since he went down. I heard Westbrook moaning but it stopped. Scooter is alive.”
A loud whistle and the insect-aliens cleared the door. Whistling and clicking, the insect-alien sent soldiers in all directions. Link and Ramirez were jerked to their feet, Link walking, Ramirez dragged into the control room. Grimacing every time she put weight on her left leg Ramirez needed the alien support. Held up, facing the screen, Link took in the damaged warship. Close-up views of the ruptured hull showed huge gaps. The damage was extensive, the ship a dead hulk. Whatever Scooter had rigged had been thorough. Any large explosion inside a pressurized hull would likely rupture the hull, but what Scooter set off was catastrophic.
New images appeared showing Link, Ramirez, and the others on the orbital station where Link had ordered the port blown out. Shot from high on a wall, the scene showed Link selecting Ramirez for the fight with the insect-alien. In the background, the other aliens huddled, watching intently as Ramirez fought and then killed the insect-alien. The playback included the human celebration and Gains giving Ramirez the dead alien’s stiletto. The playback stopped, replaced with images of the alien wreck.
