Insidious. Part 31

The last pocket of Synchronicity security forces guarded what the UNSF intelligence indicated was an alien s.p.a.cecraft. It was the crown jewel of the mission, completely unknown at the beginning of the deep s.p.a.ce incursions. The marines had moved in on the hangar but found stiff resistance around three security hardpoints, each with a laser emplacement. A handful of robots and desperate, heavily armed locals were using the cover of the hardpoints and the lasers to keep the UNSF marines at a distance.

They must be under spinner control, or they would have already surrendered. Whatever is in there is clearly important.

Bren knew Hoffman hoped Meridian would get the task of busting into the hangar. That machine was the most qualified, even with the minor damage it had received. It was also the machine Bren wanted to shut down immediately. Its superiority was dangerous; Bren already felt it might be too late. What could they do if the machine refused to come in and tried to spread its control over the whole station? Or back to Earth?

As if Bren didn't already have enough to worry about, he also wondered if Jackson's electronic warfare team was up to the task of isolating the station from Earth communications. That would trap any rampant AI core here, keeping it from spreading electronically.

"Meridian and Panzer. Prepare for stand down. Return to the Vigilant."

"Belay that," Jameson's voice came on the channel. "I have dire news. The Chinese fleet has engaged us. We've lost two cruisers so far. The support fleet has been forced to withdraw."

"Then shouldn't we ..."

"The Vigilant can't disengage. It would never make it out of there anyway. The only reason you're still in one piece is because you're attached to the station. No doubt the Chinese are after the same thing we are."

There was a pause. Then Jameson continued.

"Your orders are to defend the alien craft at all costs. If you can't keep it out of Chinese hands, then destroy it."

Bren looked around the Guts and saw stunned faces that must be mirroring his own. He'd only read about such grave missions in books as a kid, and now it was happening to him in real life.

"Yes, sir," Henley answered without skipping a beat. "We'll deploy to protect the craft. Bren, we need the remaining a.s.sAIL units now more than ever. They still have an operational lifespan of ... about thirty-eight hours, correct?"

Thirty-five hours, Bren thought to himself. And Henley knew that as well.

"Correct," Bren said. "But it may be critical to cycle them now, before the Chinese make an incursion. They've been up for a long time."

"Bring one of them in at a time," Jameson said. "I think the Chinese will go straight in. I doubt they'll be playing games. They want that craft and they want it before the UNSF can bring more force to oppose them."

Bren thought about the news for a few more seconds. If the Chinese were coming here to seize Synchronicity, which machine did he want running for the longest time?

"Panzer. Prepare for stand down. Return to the Vigilant," Bren ordered. He saw from the tactical that the machine appeared to obey the order. If the tactical wasn't being tampered with, then the machine was moving quickly back toward the Guts.

"This is Henley," said the major on the a.s.sAIL channel. "My retrieval team a.s.signed to find the remains of the Red named Slicer is telling me that we don't have it."

"It's still out there?"

"Most likely. We found pieces. No way to know if they are real or some kind of deception. But the thing isn't there; at least, most of it isn't there. The explosion was hot, but it got shut down quickly by the fire controls, and these guys know their s.h.i.+t. I'm told there's an eighty percent chance the thing didn't die."

Bren didn't have to repeat the findings to the a.s.sAILs. In fact, the machines had probably picked it up off the link chatter before Henley knew about it.

"Send out an ammo carrier to resupply Patton and Meridian," Bren ordered. "Give it a full load for each, plus fifty percent."

"Aye, sir," responded Patton's handler. Bren opened a pane in his PV to monitor the progress of the carrier toward his a.s.sAIL units in the field.

Outwardly, Bren stuck to business. Inside, he felt fear and uncertainty seething away. He'd put up a brave front for a long time with relatives and friends back home, acknowledging their comments about the danger of his deep s.p.a.ce mission. But he'd never felt himself to be in the line of fire until now. He'd always thought no matter what happened, win or lose, he'd be safe inside the Vigilant coming home when it was all over.

After a few more minutes, he heard Panzer as it tromped back into the Guts.

Panzer's handler connected cables to the a.s.sAIL to download its post mission data. The need to hard connect to a machine spoke of the ma.s.sive amounts of information such a machine generated during the course of a mission. This download would be huge, given that Panzer had been operating longer than any previous a.s.sAIL mission.

When the handler completed the protocols, Bren prepared to shut down the power. He didn't like the feeling any more today than he ever did. The machine stood there, and he knew it must have been carefully watching everything they did. He felt an urge to keep it alive, using the excuse that they needed its experience to fight the Chinese. But it was simply too dangerous. He had to hold the safety of those on Earth over his own.

Bren shut off the power. The machine went dark. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Panzer's handler had a new core ready to plant. The core had been up for less than an hour, so they'd swap it out with the current core. The hot swap procedure was complicated and less safe than the protocols they followed between missions. Some buffer or device somewhere might keep state from the previous owner, some clue planted by the previous core. They'd have to do their best to sterilize the cha.s.sis and get the new core in quickly, so Panzer could get back out there.

Bren felt a tremor in the Guts.

"That would be our visitors," Bren said aloud.

"Our readings indicate a Chinese breach only two hundred meters from the bay holding their objective," Henley's voice said. "They must have had solid intel. We're expecting enemy machines any time now."

"Meridian, I've been informed that your ammo has been topped off. Are you ready to repel?"

"Your information is correct. Ready to repel," the a.s.sAIL transmitted.

"Another breach one third spinward from Vigilant," Henley reported. "Looks close to the concourse."

Bren considered that news. Apparently, two of their troop carriers were attached to Synchronicity. He knew deep s.p.a.ce operations were staggeringly expensive. The Chinese had come prepared and in force.

Bren could see from the tactical pane of his PV that Meridian and Patton were moving immediately toward the Chinese breach point next to the bay. Bren hadn't even had a chance to glimpse the alien s.h.i.+p. As far as he knew, marines were still trying to take out one of the laser emplacements and get in there.

Bren switched his attention back to his favorite view of the battle, Meridian's forward camera. The a.s.sAIL machine moved down a s.p.a.cious corridor toward a set of closed metal doors.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Meridian was firing. The armor-piercing 12mm rounds blew a series of holes in the doorway. Bren wondered what algorithm led to the ragged pattern of shots. He realized he might not get to see a Chinese war machine, since Meridian no longer seemed to target by direct visual contact with the enemy.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Rounds went through the walls in front of the a.s.sAIL. Bren didn't fear a depressurization event this time. The a.s.sAIL was old enough to know what it was doing. If it took a chance of critically damaging the station at this point, that risk must be justified. He still hadn't fully grasped how much more than a detached observer he'd suddenly become.

On the other hand, maybe Meridian now operates as a free agent and doesn't care if it depressurizes the whole station. As long as the AI can take over, what need does it have for a bunch of tiny-brained simians rattling around in its new body?

Smoke started to pour out of the holes. Then a stream of men ran around a corner toward Meridian. They wore military skinsuits, unlike the gear worn by the locals. They must be Chinese marines.

Bren hadn't even realized there was a corridor parallel to the doors in front of the a.s.sAIL. The men looked surprised to see the a.s.sAIL in front of them. Had they a.s.sumed the enemy machines had been destroyed by the cannon fire they heard?

Bren heard the pop of glue canister launchers and then the roar of the 12mm cannons.

Brrrooom. Ka-whump!

Two glue canisters exploded.

Bren watched in mingled fascination and horror as the men writhed in glue. The wall behind them ripped open. Bren could vaguely make out two vehicles or tank-like robots pressing forward.

Boom. Boom.

Meridian holed both the aggressors. Then the forward camera bobbed and the view whirled as Meridian ran off in another direction.

Bren saw holes appearing in the walls as the a.s.sAIL ran down it.

Wham. Boom. Rrrrrrrrip!

Debris started to fly from the holes and ricochets as the machine reached another door.

"Patton is showing damage in its frontal plate ... the starboard leg has been hit by a projectile," a handler said.

Bren accessed the tactical view. Meridian continued to disengage, but Patton remained in front of the Chinese onslaught.

"Why aren't they coordinating? They're splitting up," Bren said aloud.

"Meridian is still shooting in that direction," Hoffman said defensively.

"But it's still moving away," Bren replied.

Boom.

"Took another hit," Patton's handler said. "The starboard cannon is logging fatal errors."

Bren switched to Patton's camera. The machine listed against a wall, limiting the camera view. The port cannon was still firing.

He could see that at least three things were firing on its position, as holes in the walls formed from several directions. A sheet of flame engulfed the camera bubble, blackening it. Bren switched to another camera, but the feed was dead.

"Taking more hits," said the handler. "It's dead. Patton's dead."

"Then we only have one machine left," Bren said.

"No, two! Panzer is ready," Bren heard.

"Get it out onto the concourse connection immediately," Bren said. The heavy machine started out of its bay, slipping smoothly around the cables and equipment that littered the Guts.

"Henley, we're sending you Panzer," Bren transmitted. He didn't get a reply, but the tactical showed him that Henley still lived.

Meridian's camera showed rapid progress through the corridors of the station. Probably running for its life. The situation is desperate enough to risk asking questions.

"Meridian, are you disengaging?" Bren asked.

"The enemy force headed for the objective should be considerably disorganized after our engagement. This will give me time to breach the bay and destroy the objective, denying it to the enemy."

Bren lifted an eyebrow. So Patton had sacrificed itself to buy time? Bren wasn't sure if he believed Meridian anymore.

Bren switched his attention to Panzer as it ran through the umbilical. It came out into the hangar. Bren saw several marine positions set up behind the metal containers that the marines used to carry their supplies. He saw a few relieved looks from the marines as Panzer strode past.

Bren heard the muted rattle of small arms fire followed by an explosion. The sound pa.s.sed along through his link couldn't hurt his ears since they were completely bypa.s.sed. He knew from experience that the sounds of battle wielded eardrum-shattering force for those present in person.

Panzer turned down the newly carved road that ran the short distance from the hangar to the main concourse. The way ahead was filled with smoke. Bren saw men hunkered down behind positions to the left and right. Panzer kept to the right, presumably allowing the laser emplacement room to fire down the road.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Panzer began firing steadily. Suddenly, Bren saw a flash in the corridor as the laser fired into it, igniting the tiny particles of smoke in the air.

Boom. Boom.

Bren couldn't see the targets, but one of the 12mm shots caused an explosion in the gloom ahead.

Are we going to literally shoot the station to pieces?

Several spheres rolled forward through the smoke toward Panzer. Their movement reminded Bren of seeking grenades, but these munitions were considerably larger. Panzer shot one almost instantly then the view filled with smoke and debris.

A second later, Panzer dropped off the tactical.

"Panzer is down," a handler said.

"Something's gone wrong in here," Henley said. "Have they flanked us?"

Bren heard marines respond with conflicting replies. Clearly, confusion reigned supreme in the hangar.

"Meridian is the only one left," Hoffman said.

"Meridian isn't going to repel the Chinese BCP by itself," Bren said.

"True," Hoffman whispered, his enthusiasm dampened at last.

Even Hoffman knows Meridian can't save us this time.

"Meridian, can you make it through to the Vigilant?" Bren transmitted on the a.s.sAIL channel.

"I'm cut off. It'll be some time before I can help," Meridian said.

An alarm override plastered red windows over Bren's PV. He heard a klaxon, actually heard it from his real ears, in the Guts.

Ouch, that's loud! No chance of my link bias tuning that one out.

The PV warnings were explicit: incursion.

Bren absorbed the messages in shock. Hostiles boarded the Vigilant. It seemed too fast. Hadn't the entire hangar been full of dozens of marines just seconds earlier?

"Oh, frick," Hoffman said. His comment was followed by other more colorful phrases from other handlers.

"Everybody out of the Guts!" Bren shouted. "This room has to be the primary target of any action against the s.h.i.+p!"

Or is that just what my training has told me? We only have one machine left to handle from here. And it's out of our control, anyway.