“We could get someone else to shoot us?” Skorra said. “Act a relay maybe?”
“Who exactly is going to do that? The station is unarmed, and Orson’s battleship is beyond effective weapons range. Though we’re not going to be evading….”
“It’s rather moot, I believe,” Mellok said as he tapped at the console before him. “These fellows are more than happy to oblige I would think.” He sent the latest sensor information to the holoprojectors dotted around the centre of the room, expanding the image until it filled the chamber.
More ships had appeared, dropping into real space at the same time, a perfect formation beyond any living fleet. Their baleful red eyes were visible even on the hologram, the heads at the front of each ship twisting and undulating in a way that sickened the stomach. The Unmind fleet was vast, hundreds of ships flying in perfect unison.
Behind those was something different. No boxy utilitarian thing, it was an enormous cluster of spikes and jagged edges, a threatening grey thing with a single massive flat face. It dwarfed everything around it, a planet-sized object hurtling through the darkness.
“Is that… Eden?” Skorra said, peering at the hologram.
“No.” Mellok stepped away from his console, walking towards the image. “Look, the surface, it’s just… grey. There’s nothing there. No seas, no land, nothing.” He gestured with his feathered hand. “It’s another one. Another installation. Perhaps an unfinished one?”
“No, I think that’s finished,” Aileena said. “The Unmind ships are falling into formation around it. I think this is something different. Eden is somewhere for the living, for life and plants and people. This… this is the opposite. This is only death. I can feel it in my gut.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The atmosphere inside the station had become thick with overwhelming dread. The hurried rush of the people inside had become a frenzied panic, news of the new arrivals spreading throughout the crowd like a cold. Michael didn’t know how they were doing it, but the Unmind had predicted where he was going a second time. This time they had arrived with considerably more force. Talk amongst the crowd was of a ship the size of a planet. Michael knew that the Sword was tough but standing against an armada of Unmind vessels wasn’t a good idea for anyone.
“We need to get through this crowd and get the hell out of here,” Brekt said. The two marines who had accompanied Orson were at his sides, along with Meggok, the four men forming an effective battering ram as they parted the throng of people. They were nearly at the hangar now; the team proving extremely effective.
“Nguyen, any updates on our new friends?” Orson was speaking into the communicator wrapped around his wrist. He was clearly finding the device unwieldy. For a while technology companies on Earth had pushed smartwatches. They were mildly popular, most people found themselves looking a little bit silly when they spoke into them, a death knell for a product whose marketing focused on how cool it supposedly was.
“Sensors are still trying to count the number of ships. Current estimates on the fleet’s size is six hundred and twelve but it’s still rising. That isn’t including that big bastard, whatever that is. I’m bringing the Shield in close to the station so you can fly the Gallant right in. Still, a few hours until our drives recharge though, so I’m preparing the ship for a full burn out of the system once you’re aboard.”
“Time to see if the Council’s repairs to that reactor shielding holds up?”
“Hello, Orson, sir?” The voice on the line changed, taking on a trill tone. It had a strange kind of echo to it, like several voices in unison. “I can assure you the repairs on the reactor are perfect. I was part of the supervision team after all. The Unmind. I never thought I would see them in person! This is exciting, isn’t it? Just like issue four thousand and seventy-three!”
“Ok, fine. Life isn’t a comic book though, Vossix. Keep an eye on that reactor.” Orson rolled his eyes. The insectoid alien had been eager to offer his help to the resistance. Not from any philosophical or theological standpoint, instead doing it simply because it was like the comic books he loved so much. Orson understood the former trooper’s reasoning, as a child, he had dreamt of being an astronaut. He had achieved that goal, but his childhood self had expected things to be a little more Dan Dare and a little less watching ants in zero gravity. Orson allowed himself a smile, realising he was closer now to that childhood dream than ever.
“The Unmind won’t hold back,” Michael said. “I’ve seen them in action. Those machines will kill or harvest anything they come across. Either that or take them for indexing. Had the unfortunate experience of that myself, before I got saved.”
“What does that even mean, indexing?”
“No idea. No one seems to know exactly. It’s… what I need the blood for. I need a transfusion. When the Unmind took me they pumped nanobots into me. There are friendly bots in there holding them back and my doctor thinks they can push all the Unmind bots into my blood and flush them out.”
“Wait, nanobots? Like the tiny machines?” Orson ran his eyes over Michael as if scanning him. “It’s not contagious, is it?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Well, if one of my men is a match, I’m sure they’ll be happy to donate. You’re going to need more than one donor though, right? For the amount you would need.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“So, I guess the question is, why where? Why are the Unmind here now?” Orson twisted as a Eurian pushed past him. They were heading deeper into the station, either they were lost, or they were abandoning the idea of escaping.
“That’s a good question.” Brekt’s voice, though soft, seemed to punch through the noise. “Your men will need heavy-duty weapons. Explosives, high powered energy weapons, anything like that. Unmind stuff is armoured.”
“We’ve got a few bits and pieces,” Orson said. “You think we’ll need to fight them?”
“Possibly. Considering they want to capture and index whoever they can, I suspect they might try to board the station and ships. Assuming they don’t blast us first.”
“He’s got a point, sir,” said one of the marines. “We’ve got some heavier gear on the Gallant if we need it.”
“Still means we need to get to the Gallant no matter what,” Orson said.
“Not necessarily. This is a merc station. Means there is plenty of weapons dealers here. Bound to be something useful in one of the shops,” Brekt said as he pushed another group of people out of the way.
“This is all thinking the worst,” Michael said. “Getting off the station is our first priority then we can-”
There was a shooting pain just behind Michael’s eyes. It was like before, when he had fallen. He stayed upright this time, bracing himself against the wall as he stumbled.
Orson grabbed Michael’s arm, pulling him to his feet.
“You ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok. Just a dizzy spell. Come on, we can’t hang about.”
“You look pale.”
“Well, the next sun beds we see I’ll pop in for a top-up. Either that or I can stand really close to the guns the Unmind’s collectors have. Their lasers, or doom rays, or whatever. Reckon they could give me a lovely summer glow.”
“Point well made.” Orson pushed Michael’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, you can use me as support.”
“Last time we met you were shooting lasers at me.”
“Well, it’s a funny old universe.”
“Hangar’s right ahead,” Brekt said. “We’re nearly there.”
Abberax examined the hologram before him, his crystal absorbing the light bouncing off it and translating the image across the intricate lattice within that formed Abberax’s mind. The newly arrived fleet was impressive. The Unmind had been a pest for as long as the Substrate had been an empire, appearing rarely to besiege a world before vanishing into the dark.