Redemption Protocol (Contact) (78 page)

“We are.”

Tyburn nodded, satisfied.

“Glad to hear it, Son.”

Havoc walked away. Tyburn called after him.

“Who knows, maybe the Gathering will do you a favor.”

Havoc stopped abruptly and looked back.

“The only person who will kill you is me.”

Tyburn grinned.

“That's more like it, Son. We move out in five.”

Ekker moved alongside Tyburn as Havoc walked away. Ekker pointed at the shattered combat suit.

> Should he even be able to do that?

Tyburn shook his head.

> No one can do that.

 209. 

Havoc piloted their shuttle in formation behind Tyburn’s ORC spear. His platforms roared forward as they neared the target, precipitating bright flashes on the skyline. The dome of the beam control building appeared on the horizon.

Weaver turned to him with a positive expression. Her tone was upbeat.

“It's good you can work with him.”

“He's a dead man walking.”

“Wow. I really thought I was getting through to you there.”

“We're different. We approach things differently.”

“Wouldn't you like to have a day when you didn't wake up thinking about Forge?”

“That day will come soon enough.”

Weaver sighed. She gazed out at the passing terrain as they sped low over the ground.

“I can't believe you slept with that slut. You've had such bad taste in women.”

“I don't think my wife would agree with you.”

Weaver winced.

“I meant before. You know that.”

“It's not a mistake I’ll repeat.”

“Surely you don't mean
ever
.”

“In the foreseeable future.”

Weaver smiled.

“You just need the right girl in your life. Then you could wake up thinking about her instead.”

“I remember a girl screaming at me in the Hub Hab.”

“All relationships have their ups and downs, Havoc.”

“Relationships?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“No idea. Do you?”

“Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.”

He laughed.

“I'll bet you could charm the birds off the trees, Miss Weaver.”

“Why thank you, Mr Havoc. But I'm not an easy catch, let me tell you.”

He banked the shuttle.

“What's the hardest fish to catch?”

Weaver frowned.

“I have no idea.”

He brought them in to land.

“Well it depends on whether you throw them overarm or underarm.”

She groaned.

He chuckled.

“So you can read the alien systems?”

“Yes.”

“That makes you pretty valuable, I guess.”

“
Pretty
valuable? You
guess
?”

The shuttle touched down and Havoc stood up.

“Ok. You stay with the vehicle.”

“No, I should come.”

“No, you shouldn't.”

“What if we need to access an Aulusthran system?”

Havoc walked back to the kit racks.

“Then I'll come and get you.”

Weaver followed him indignantly.

“Hey we're a team!”

“Sometimes teams split up, Weaver.”

She frowned.

“That doesn't sound much like a team to me.”

He reached into a cabinet and passed her a handgun.

“Take this, just in case.”

Weaver hefted the weapon, aiming along it. He reached forward and pressed the barrel down gently.

“Careful with that. Unlike the one I gave Stone that one is actually loaded.”

“You gave Stone an unloaded gun?”

Havoc gave Weaver a look that said,
is that a serious question?
She frowned thoughtfully. He gestured at the weapon in her hand.

“Look there isn't much I can tell you about reacting except... if something happens, don't freeze ok? Do something. It might be wrong. But just
do something
.”

“It can't be that hard. If you listen to you security types––”

“Us
what
?”

“––then you'd think it was hypercantelivian dynamics.”

He shook his head.

“The weapon is just a tool, Weaver. You see what a master artist can get out of a brush or virtuoso out of a piano. It's the same thing. Some people have a gift. I put my time into violence. Thousands of hours. I don't want to boast but you work it out.”

Weaver looked distinctly unimpressed. She curled her tongue as she sighted along the weapon.

“I got you, didn't I?”

~    ~    ~

Havoc glanced at Weaver as he did his final checks.

“Should we try to save Abbott?”

“You have to remember that Abbott isn't Abbott. He
is
the Talmas.”

Havoc thought about it.

“If this was a government mission they'd want a sample.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Any chance we can reason with it?”

“How does a snake feel about a rodent?”

“Ok, got it. And you don't think we can separate them?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Not at this stage. We don’t know enough.”

“How capable is this thing?”

Weaver pursed her lips.

“Well Abbott is extremely capable, obviously. And the Talmas is very intelligent. More intelligent than... us.”

'
More intelligent than... us
,' he thought. Cheeky bitch. She stood watching him with her bright green eyes and her hair tied back. He gestured at her, his voice serious.

“You need to take off that headband.”

She looked strangely at him. He waited. She reached up, undid her headband and drew it out around her neck. She shook out her hair and looked at him expectantly.

He nodded.

“Good. Now stuff it in your mouth.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. He laughed and turned away. She poked him with her finger.

“Your heroine is currently struggling to understand her hero's difficulties in relating to her; her being so wonderful as well as an all out sexy badass.”

He smiled as he shook his head.

“So if this thing in the beam gets out, it's curtains for us?”

“The Diss? They’d still have to be targeted. But it’s fair to say that we're a step nearer annihilation, yes.”

He nodded, preoccupied by what she'd said.

She grinned.

“But you met me, right?”

He chuckled and nodded. She watched him expectantly. He turned to leave. Her eyebrow shot up.

“What? Are you off women at the moment, Havoc?”

He turned and looked at her.

“You look good, Weaver.”

“Don’t you forget it, Mister.”

“I'll be back for you.”

“You better.”

He glanced around the shuttle.

“Don't take any chances. Keep your suit on. Recode the door. You know, just the––”

“Obvious?”

“Yeah. Well...”

Weaver’s face turned serious again.

“If the Diss are unleashed, the chance that humanity will descend into war is pretty high...”

He nodded.

Weaver made a face as she raised her hands apologetically.

“No pressure though.”

He smiled.

“Pressure makes diamonds, Weaver.”

~    ~    ~

Havoc walked outside. He frowned at Forge as he took in the assembled ORC drop troopers.

“Is this all you have?”

“Yes.”

Havoc was instantly suspicious.

“Seriously this is all you have? No walkers?”

“No. For some reason one of the alien towers fell on them and the main body of ORC troops.”

“Ah.”

“Just another forty eight lives to add to your total.”

Havoc digested this. He wondered just how dangerous this Talmas was.

“Did no one make it out of the pyramid?”

Forge pointed at two of the ORC troops.

“Those two, that's all.”

Havoc nodded. Shit. This was worse than he’d thought.

“So we're going in together?”

“Yeah. You, me and Ekker. Hopefully the diversion will draw them north. We hit from the south west and the ORC from the south. I wonder how many we'll have to kill.”

Forge was referring to the Gathering's propensity for blowing up their own troops. If a Gathering commander saw his troops retreating and dishonoring God, he tended to send them straight to meet Him, in order to explain themselves directly.

Havoc nodded.

“Let's do this.”

“Steel true. Blade straight.”

“Spare me.”

“I don't know what you mercenaries say, Havoc.”

“We say that there's always another job, Forge.”

 210. 

The beam control building was a colossal tapering dome, kilometers across, that had four willowy masts protruding from its summit. The base of the curving terracotta building was lined with arches and the arches were enclosed in groups of three by larger arches shaped like crowns. Like all of Plash’s structures, the scale was huge. Having seen the dragons floating in the darkness Havoc thought he knew why.

Weaver had obtained the basic layout of the building from her research in the library – it was an onion-like series of concentric circles arranged so that there was no direct route to the center. The Gathering had covered the entrances with screen locks so presumably they had filled or were in the process of filling the building with air. Five Gathering soldiers stood around the south west entrance half a klick away.

Smoke whipped away from the wreckage of the ORC, Gathering and two of Havoc's own aerial platforms that were scattered around the building’s perimeter. The roaring winds fanned the burning wreckage, making it glow in the twilight.

Havoc stepped back from the missile station he'd erected. He crouched in the darkness, waiting. Forge looked at Havoc and winked.

“Cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of war.”

Havoc shook his head, his expression bleak.

“I put my trust in you. I gave you everything I had.”

Forge nodded toward the Gathering soldiers.

“You're a casualty of war, Son. Just like them.”

Explosions boomed from the east as the remaining ORC troops attacked the southern entrance.

Havoc launched the missile. It flashed and roared the short distance to the entrance. Debris flew up as it detonated almost as soon as it had fired. Havoc jetted toward the shattered entrance with Forge and Ekker in pursuit. Dead bodies lay scattered around the arches. Micromissiles streaked out from Havoc's launchers, blowing up the Gathering bodies as a precaution.

He dropped down near the entrance, dispensing microdrones and scanning as he went. His suit thrummed with jamming. Withering kinetic fire streamed out from two Gathering static defense stations inside the hallway. Havoc discharged nanoscreen and flare jumped sideways as his micromissiles streaked ahead of him. He sprinted to an arch adjacent to the entrance and threw himself against a column. Forge threw himself against the pillar opposite. Havoc twisted as he fired two micromissiles at the wall.

“Does duty and honor mean nothing to you?”

The directional micronukes blew a hole in the wall and Forge followed instantly with two shots from his tricannon. The two static defense stations blew apart.

“It wasn't that I loved you less, Son. Just that I loved the Karver Republic more.”

Havoc followed up with another micromissile. The remnants of the static defense stations shattered like glass.

Forge shook his head and laughed.

“Still love that overkill don't you?”

Ekker ran toward them. He sounded gleeful.

“These fucking kneelers couldn't hit an ele––”

Three screamers curved in overhead and tumbled downward, twisting chaotically in flight before breaking formation, one heading for each of them.