“Fall back,” Drake ordered, as other automatons appeared from the walls, their weapons already raised and ready. There were dozens of different designs now, some of them almost humanoid, all deadly. None of them seemed to carry energy weapons, for a reason that made sense to Killer minds and no sense to a human, but it hardly mattered. They could tear the entire team apart. “Fall…”
“The way back is blocked,” one of the Privates snapped. They were all firing now, trying to cut down the automatons before they could reach the suits and tear them apart. The report from Captain Kelsey had made it clear. The Killers could break through the suits with ease. “We’re trapped.”
“As you were,” Drake roared. “Ron; grenades, front and centre.”
“Aye, sir,” Ron said, activating his grenade launcher and firing a spread of grenades down the corridor. They exploded a second later — the suit protected them from the effects — and tore hundreds of automatons to shreds. Others advanced a moment later to take their places. He threw a second spread and watched as the newcomers died, only to be replaced moments later. “Sir…”
“Forward,” Drake snapped. “Leap!”
Ron mentally kicked himself for forgetting, just before he leapt into the air, using the suit’s muscles to propel him up and over the Killer automatons. The others followed him seconds later, laying down covering fire as they double-timed it down the corridor, running down towards the Killer control centre. The Killer had to have prepared a nastier surprise, Ron decided. Nothing else could explain why the Killer had allowed them to keep moving forward. Another automaton advanced and he blew it away quickly, before firing off yet another spread of grenades. The Killer mind controlling the automatons simply couldn’t react fast enough, yet there was something terrible in their implacable advance, as if they knew that the humans would stumble and fall. It won’t be long, they seemed to say, before you are ours…
“Sir…!”
The despairing cry faded as Ron turned, just in time to see one of the suit’s cracking open under an assault from one of the automatons. He blew it away at once, but it was too late for the Footsoldier — Ron couldn’t even remember his name. They should have been closer than brothers, but there hadn’t been time to get to know one another before they’d been sent on their crazy mission. The red icons told of his final struggle for life… and his defeat. The suit was too damaged even to preserve the body.
“Leave him,” Drake ordered, grimly. Ron opened his mouth to protest — the Footsoldiers never left their own behind, never — but there was no choice. The advancing automatons would have them all if they stopped to recover the body. “Come on.”
They ran further into the Killer starship, allowing the suit’s augmentation to drive them forward faster than the automatons could move. The Killers reacted in their cold style, sending more automatons to confront them, or twisting the local gravity field — although now they had the antigravity fields on permanently, it prevented them from being caught and trapped by the sudden changes. The walls seemed to shimmer and glow around them; one Footsoldier was killed, somehow, by a grey cloud that somehow enveloped him and tore him apart. Ron decided, after a moment, that they had to be rogue nanites, but if the Killers could do that safely, why didn’t they wipe out the entire team?
“The command centre is just down here,” Drake snapped. Ron nodded. The deep interior of the Killer starship appeared to be identical to the other examined ships, something to be grateful for. If they had had to search for it, he had a nasty feeling that the automatons would catch them before they could find it and somehow capture the Killer. It dawned on him, suddenly, that they had no way of talking to the Killer, let alone convincing it to surrender. They did have the drill for dealing with humanoid races — which had never been tested in the field — but would the Killers understand?
Damn it, he thought, as the five remaining Footsoldiers crossed through the plain — taking care to stay away from the walls — and into the command centre. This whole mission was badly planned from the start.
The command centre looked identical to the one the previous missions had located — and utterly alien. A glowing sphere sat in the centre of the room, filled with strange pearly light and biological compounds; they now knew that that was the Killer. Strong columns, also glowing with light, linked it into the remainder of the ship, but how strong was its link to the interior? Did it know that there were humans in its ship, or did it merely consider the Footsoldiers to be unthinking automatons like its own devices? It might not even have realised that humans existed independently of their technology.
He looked over at Drake. “Now what?”
Drake lifted his plasma cannon and took aim at the sphere. “Can you hear me?”
There was no response, apart from the arrival of hundreds of automatons at each of the entrances to the command centre. They were trapped. Ron looked at them and powered up his weapons for a final stand. Drake was bluffing, he knew; whatever the sphere was made from, it would easily resist the plasma fire when he tried to kill it. Only nanites had penetrated the last sphere and killed the alien monster…
“They’re advancing,” Charlie snapped. The Footsoldier opened fire savagely on the automatons, but they just kept advancing, pushing the humans up against the sphere. A moment later, Charlie and one other died, torn apart by the advancing metal creatures. Their suits could no longer protect them.
Drake opened fire, desperately. The plasma blasts ricocheted off the sphere and spun around the room. He turned and opened fire on the automatons, launching grenades and other weapons into their throng, trying to take as many of them out as possible. Ron had a different idea. There was no longer any point in trying to communicate. He activated his nanotech cutting tool — a monofilament blade — and started to dig into the sphere…
The tool broke. The Killers knew what had killed the previous Killer and had adapted. They’d somehow proofed their stronghold against nanotechnology. There was no way to kill the alien. And if they couldn’t kill the alien, they couldn’t kill the ship.
“Oh, you son of a bitch,” Ron breathed, shaking his head. Drake’s final cry broke his trance. His commanding officer had done as well as could be expected, and yet he was dead, killed by a dumb automaton. It would be his turn soon enough. There was no hope of escape, yet there was one weapon left to use. “You suck so very much.”
He powered up the suit’s autodestruct, clung onto the sphere as hard as he could, and triggered the sequence. The explosion shattered the sphere and, too late, the Killer starship became dark and lifeless. The automatons stopped their motions and collapsed onto the deck. The final act of the starship was to cap the black hole and prevent it from breaking loose and destroying the entire ship.
The Battle of Shiva was over.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I take it there’s still no sign that they have detected us?”
“There is no sign that they have decided to take notice of us,” the AI said, flatly. Lieutenant Justin Herald, known as Joe to his friends after an embarrassing mix-up at the training centre, could have sworn he heard a hint of irritation in the AIs voice. Most AIs never developed a sense of emotions, even if they had been designed to have that capability, but some developed them at the oddest times. Being cooped up in a tiny scout ship with a single human probably encouraged the AI to learn frustration and boredom. “I cannot swear that they have not detected us.”
“Ah,” Justin said, dryly. “They may have just decided to ignore us.”
“Precisely,” the AI agreed. There was a sudden note of warning in its voice. “However, after the Footsoldiers captured a Killer starship and they launched their blitzkrieg against human space, hundreds of observers and picketing starships have been wiped out by the Killers. It would be foolish to assume that they intend to continue ignoring us.”