The Epherium Chronicles: Echoes (14 page)

Sanchez motioned for two of the Marines to join them by the grave. “Okay, guys, let’s dig her up and get what we need.”

The loud snorts started again in the distance. They sounded closer, but he couldn’t be certain.

Three Marines moved off their perimeter positions and pulled spades from their packs. Patton directed them where to dig. The dirt was soft, and the Marines were able to clear it with ease. After ten minutes of excavation, one the Marine’s spades struck metal. The Marine used his armored gloves to scatter the remaining dirt, revealing a silver capsule with an opaque glass window.

Pile leaned over the edge of the grave. “We didn’t have anything to create a decent coffin or vault, so we used the cylinders from the Embrace units.”

Sanchez understood the logic. The cylinders could be sealed and could protect the bodies for decomposition for decades. If someone wanted to ship them home for a burial on Earth, it would take little effort.

Pile instructed the Marines how to unlock the seal. The cylinder opened with a hiss. Inside, Elaine Ulrich’s body lay in state. Sanchez had expected some smell of decay, but it was a more sterile smell. Like many of the other colonists, she showed signs of advanced aging. Sanchez stared at the body and threw Pile a confused look.

“That’s strange,” Pile mentioned with a confused raise of his brow. “Elaine was still in her prime when she passed. Why would she have aged like this?”

Sanchez helped Patton down into the grave.

“Let me take a look. I’ll run a quick scan and extract the samples we need.” Patton pulled out a small medical scanner and went to work. A few minutes later, he pulled out two injectors. He pulled down the collar of her short-sleeve shirt to reveal a blackened area with large puncture marks on her right shoulder. The injector hummed as he extracted a tissue into its vial. He repeated the process across her abdomen. Patton looked up at Sanchez and signaled he was done.

The Marine with Patton handed the medical pack up first. Sanchez secured it then reached for Patton’s outstretched arm. He couldn’t reach him.

Patton moved closer to the edge, but slipped on the loose dirt and landed hard on the metal cylinder. He screamed in agony and grabbed his right arm. The noise echoed across the clearing.

“Are you alright, doc?” Sanchez called to him.

“Ahh...I think I dislocated my shoulder.” Patton closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in pain.

The two Marines lowered ropes to their teammate, who secured them under Patton’s chest and just above his waist. Sanchez and Maya assisted each Marine on the edge of the grave and eased Patton to the surface. Pile guided the ropes toward the edge and rolled the injured man to his belly, resulting in another painful wail.

The platoon’s corpsman rushed over with his med kit. Along with Pile, they moved Patton to a sitting position. The corpsman pulled an injector from his kit, pressed it against Patton’s arm and pulled the trigger. The tense muscles in Patton’s face relaxed as the painkillers took effect.

The corpsman examined Patton’s shoulder with his portable scanner. “We can move him, but I think we should pop his shoulder back into place first.”

Patton provided a grimace-laden smile in silent agreement.

Maya moved behind the doctor to brace his shoulder, while the corpsman maintained eye contact. “Okay. On the count of three,” he said and placed his right hand against Patton’s upper arm. “One. Two...three!” The corpsman pressed forward, and Patton’s shoulder popped back into place with a sickening click.

Patton winced, but didn’t yell. “Okay, its back in.”

Another injector hummed. “It’s an anti-inflammatory, Doctor. Hold still so I can brace it for you.” He pulled a roll of tape and a bandage from his pack then started to secure Patton’s arm.

Sanchez breathed a sigh of relief. He threw Patton’s medical bag over his shoulder. They had the samples, and he hoped Patton’s injury wouldn’t hinder him from finding an antidote to the toxin. His comm band buzzed. “This is Sanchez. What’s wrong, Sergeant?”

“Commander, I’ve got movement,” Toronaga warned. “One large target on approach from the southeast. Crap! I’ve got two now. Four hundred meters and closing fast!”

Brush crackled in the trees that direction. “It has to be the Hanno, Commander,” Pile offered. “They probably heard Patton’s screams and came to investigate.” He ran in the direction of the sounds. “I can calm them down. You get them out of here!”

“Priest, cover him!” Sanchez ordered. He hadn’t seen one of the Hanno before. After hearing McGregor’s description of the Alpha the Marines had met when they’d arrived, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share the experience. Especially not in the dark and out in the open. “The rest of you get back to the tree line.”

Maya had Patton on his feet. He looked a little woozy. “Can you run?”

“With those things coming, you bet,” Patton replied with a sense of vigor.

“I’ve got him,” Maya assured and escorted Patton back in the direction of the encampment.

With a crash of branches, the two Hanno burst out of the tree line. Sanchez zoomed in on them with his night vision optics. The towering giants were both over ten meters tall. He almost forgot to breathe. They spun in the direction of his retreating group and charged
. Holy crap!

Over the sounds of their thundering footfalls, Sanchez heard a series of loud howls. It was Pile, standing in the Hannos’ path. The two behemoths slowed when they reached him. Pile waved his arms and repeated his howls.

The Hanno to Pile’s right lifted its head and roared in reply. Pile started to yell once again, but the beast delivered a vicious backhand that sent the man soaring across the clearing. Pile’s body slammed into the wide bases of the trees.

An alarm rang out on Sanchez’s comm band in his armor. He’d added everyone’s life sensors to alert him when one of the team was in danger. Pile’s popped up immediately and his vitals flatlined. “Ah, hell,” Sanchez uttered. The Hanno renewed their charge. “Covering fire!”

The Marines reached the edge of the tree line, took up defensive positions and opened fire on the advancing Hanno. The loud report from Priest’s sniper rifle made Sanchez cover his ears, but he never took his eyes off the beasts.

Priest’s round ripped through the knee of the Hanno who’d killed Pile. The beast howled in agony and tumbled into a roll as it lost its balance. The second Hanno didn’t slow, and bullets from the Marines’ weapons ricocheted off its bone scales.

Toronaga’s MACE opened fire. Its larger rounds cracked the beast’s scales along its midsection. The Hanno roared in protest but didn’t slow. It didn’t even look at Toronaga. It eyes were fixed on Sanchez.

Sanchez took a quick glance behind him. A group of four Marines were escorting Maya and Dr. Patton back to the encampment. His helmet visor started to fog from his labored breathing. Panic and adrenaline were taking over.
It’s coming for Patton, not me.

Standing between him and Maya, McCraken opened fire with his sidearm at the closest beast, empting the clip. The bullets had no chance of penetrating its bone scales at his range, and his token gesture of support produced another angry roar from the charging Hanno. His eyes widened in fear and he spun and ran beside the Marines escorting Dr. Patton.

Priest unleashed another round from his sniper rifle, this time at the closer Hanno. The high-powered bullet clipped the upper breastplate of the beast and thrust in and through its neck. It issued a gurgled halfhearted roar and crashed to the ground. Its momentum carried its skid to the edge of the trees, where it stopped a few meters from Sanchez.

Across the clearing, the other Hanno struggled to stand and huffed in challenge at the Marines. It crawled forward, but made little progress.

“The sounds will bring more of them,” Sanchez called to the others. “Fall back to the encampment now!”

Toronaga powered his MACE to the lead again, paving a wide opening in the underbrush. Surrounded by Marines, Maya helped the injured Patton and followed close behind. The group reached the gate of the encampment and ran inside. The Marine guards closed the gate and activated the energy barrier across the entrance to the camp. Weapons from the Marines in the towers and on the ground aimed in the direction from where the group had come, but nothing emerged from the trees.

Sanchez handed Maya Patton’s satchel with the tissue samples. She put the strap over her shoulder and helped Patton to the medical tent. He heard a loud voice and turned to meet its owner.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” McGregor bellowed.

“I wouldn’t call that fun,” Sanchez answered, still breathing hard from the long run. “We acquired the samples, but two of the Hanno attacked us.”

McGregor frowned. “What about Pile?”

Sanchez shook his head. “He tried to communicate with them. He said he could calm them down, but they swatted him like a bug.” Saying the words out loud didn’t make him feel any better. Losing Pile like that hit him hard. He shouldn’t have let him go out there like that.

Several colonists joined them, led by Emma Gracen, the colony’s acting chief medical officer. “Commander Sanchez, what happened out there? What did you do?” She looked angry and so did several of the other colonists standing beside her.

“We went to the graveyard to retrieve tissue samples,” Sanchez replied diplomatically. “Our team came under attack by two of the Hanno, but we got what we needed.”

His words didn’t seem to placate her. “I don’t understand. Why did you go out in the dark? You could have brought half the forest down on us! Who authorized this?”

This time Sanchez took offense. “Dr. Gracen, this colony is under
EDF
jurisdiction. As the ranking officer, it was my decision to venture out there.” He pointed toward the
Cabot
. “Out of courtesy, my team spoke to Commander Grange, who recommended Mr. Pile to guide us.”

Gracen backed down, and the others relaxed, as well. She scanned the group of Marines surrounding the gate. “Where’s Martin? I don’t see him.”

Sanchez lowered his head. His heart felt heavy and his voice was hollow with regret. “I’m sorry. He didn’t make it.”

Shock filled her eyes. She cupped her hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. Sobbing, she turned and ran back toward the
Cabot.

Sanchez sighed. He knew how she must feel. Trying to keep a strong face, he looked at the other colonists. “Where’s Commander Grange? I expected to see him when we came back.”

One of the colonists shook his head. “We don’t know, Commander. We haven’t been able to find him.”

Lieutenant Searcy ran up beside Sanchez and McGregor. “Sirs, two of our squads have failed to report it in.”

“Who?” McGregor questioned her in alarm.

“Baker’s and Roger’s teams,” Searcy answered. “They were on perimeter patrol just outside the fence.”

“Lock everything down, Lieutenant,” McGregor growled. “Nobody goes in or out of this camp until we find my people.”

Chapter Fifteen

EDF
Armstrong
High
Orbit
Tau Ceti 3
Saturday, March 8
Earth Year 2155

Seated in front of a dirty vid screen, Hood waited for Terrance Whitaker to collect his thoughts. Whitaker paced back and forth in front of the screen, mumbling, and seemed oblivious to Hood’s presence. “Anytime you’re ready,” Hood blurted out.

Hood’s words made Whitaker jump. He wrung his hands nervously for a moment then activated the vid screen. “Sorry. I had everything worked out in my head and lost it for a moment.” He pointed to the screen. “Here we are.” A cross-sectional view of the
Armstrong’s
reactor appeared. “I’ve completed my investigation into our power problem during the last Cilik’ti attack.” A pale translucent wave of energy entered the picture and washed across the reactors.

“Is that the energy wave we detected?”

“Correct!” Whitaker exclaimed. “It’s a form of radiating energy I’ve never encountered before. Its low power makes it harmless to us, but at the right frequency it can disrupt atomic structures of unstable elements.”

Hood thought about it for a moment. “So you’re saying this wave can disrupt the pidium in our reactors?”

“Exactly.” He started to pace again. “I mean, it could theoretically affect radium, uranium and the like, but I’m positive it’s tuned to interfere with pidium.”

Hood studied the cross section. “Why just the pidium? If the Cilik’ti wanted to incapacitate us, the deuterium in the reactors would be a viable target.”

“True. However, from what we know about Cilik’ti technology, it totally revolves around the use of pidium.” Whitaker took a seat next to Hood. “In our reactors, we use pidium as a high-energy catalyst, which increases power output by more than four times. The energy from this wave destabilized the reactions and caused them to escalate out of control.” Hood noticed Whitaker was still wringing his hands. “I firmly believe this weapon was designed to interfere with pidium, and not just in our reactors.”

Hood believed the same. The Chi’tan were at war now. They’d bring out their best weapons against the other Shi. The
Armstrong
could have just been a test run. “What would happen if they used this against another Cilik’ti vessel? The same type of power loss?”

Whitaker shook his head. “I don’t think so. Cilik’ti reactors are far more efficient than ours and use pidium in all phases of power generation. I’d guess that prolonged exposure beyond a few minutes would result in irreversible reactor overloads.”

Hood stood and walked in front of the screen. “Mr. Whitaker, I need a defense against this. What about removing the pidium or bypassing it?”

Another crewman approached. “Excuse me, Captain.” The man handed Whitaker a large steaming cup of coffee.

“Bless you.” He sipped it and pursed his lips when the hot liquid touched them. “Just what I needed. Thank you.” The crewman smiled and returned to his duties. Visibly calmer now, Whitaker relaxed in his chair. “Hmm. It’s not possible. I mean, the changes could be done in space dock or the repair yard we have at Cygni, but it would take weeks to reroute all the power feeds necessary. If we tried to remove the pidium, each reactor would need to be recalibrated.”

“Find another way,” Hood said with a stern voice. His patience was wearing thin. “We’re running out of time.”

Whitaker took a much larger sip of his coffee then stared at the ripples in the cup. “Believe me, Captain, I have my full attention on this. Normally when I want to change the frequency of a wave, there are dispersion techniques. Material or energy could—” He stopped midsentence and his eyes went wide.

“What is it?”

“Did the Cilik’ti ship fire its weapons against us during the battle?”

Every detail of the engagement raced through Hood’s mind. “No. The cruiser didn’t engage. Now that you mention it, the assault ships attacked with missiles and small pulse cannons. But they wanted to board us and take prisoners, not destroy the ship.”

“I knew it! Particle energy is the key.” Whitaker raced to his design board to the left of the vid screen and started writing a series of equations.

Confused, Hood watched Whitaker fill the entire board with line after line then a graph. “I don’t understand. What does particle energy have to do with this?”

Whitaker thrust his arms up as if in triumph and spun around with a wide smile. “Diffusion. The energy penetrated our hull and reactor shielding. Those materials couldn’t alter it, but another energy field could.” He pointed to the graph on the board. “The polarized fields generated from the highly energized particles in our cannon and those of the Cilik’ti can affect it. If the Cilik’ti fired on us, the energy wash over the hull would have been enough to interfere or even nullify the wave’s effect.”

Hood crossed his arms and considered what Whitaker had to say. It seemed a bit far-fetched, but he wanted to know where Whitaker was going. “If you’re right, how can we use it? I doubt we can goad the Cilik’ti into firing on us.”

“Give me twenty-four hours.”

“You’ve got twelve, and I want to see progress in six.” Hood grabbed his data pad from his chair and started to walk toward the elevator lift. “Put everyone you have on it. I’m counting on you.”

Whitaker’s smile turned into a nervous laugh. Hood had known Whitaker for little more than a month, but it hadn’t taken long for him to understand his chief engineer. The man liked challenges. The harder the better; he reveled in them.

On the elevator lift ride from Engineering, the lift stopped. A security officer entered and stiffened to attention upon recognizing Hood.

“At ease, Sergeant...”

The man held out a data pad toward Hood. “It’s Collins, Captain. I’m Lieutenant Greywalker’s Security Team Lead. I was on my way to the Command Deck to find you. There’s been an incident.”

Hood looked the data pad. A half-naked man’s body lay slumped over a chair. Small lacerations and bruises were visible on his arms and chest. Dark dried bloodstains coated the chair and floor. “Dear God. What happened?”

Collins shook his head. “We’re still investigating. Whoever did this took their time. I’ve seen this before with pirate gangs who torture informants. It’s brutal.”

Anger overcame the horror of what Hood had just seen. He wanted to find the person responsible and make sure he or she paid in full. “Who was he?”

Collins pulled up the man’s
EDF
record. Hood recognized the red-haired buzz cut. “His name’s Wilson Davis. He was part of the augmented maintenance detail we picked up at Cygni.”

Hood crossed his arms against his chest to keep them from shaking. He knew Maya wouldn’t have told her people about Beckett’s people, and he needed to make sure Beckett hadn’t either. But now one of them was dead. Things were going to get ugly fast, especially when the man got wind of it. He put on a stern face and stared at the picture. “Do you have a time of death?”

“Med team says no more than seventy-two hours ago.” The lift neared the Command Deck, and Collins tucked the data pad under his arm. “It was in a secluded storage room on the edge of Engineering. The cleaning crews noticed the smell. With all the noise down there, no one would have heard any screams.”

“Finish your investigation and bring the findings to me, but this stays here. Don’t send anything across the channels back home until I speak with Lieutenant Greywalker.”

Collins snapped a salute as the doors of the lift opened. “Yes, sir!”

Hood exited the lift, leaving Collins inside, and walked toward the Command Station. For the moment, he could keep Davis’s death under wraps. Without Greywalker to lead the investigation, he had little confidence anything substantial would be uncovered. Time was against him.

He reached his chair and entered a query into his terminal. The response that flashed on his screen didn’t surprise him. The location of Jeremy Allen, Beckett’s other agent on board, was unknown. At best, Allen had probably disabled his tracker and went to ground. Allen could be responsible for Davis’s death, but why? The only other scenario gave him heartburn just thinking about it. Somewhere aboard ship there was another body for Collins’s team to find.

“Captain.”

He recognized Aldridge’s voice to his right and turned to see his tactical officer standing next to him. With a calm tap on his terminal, he turned off the screen. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Daylight’s approaching the
Cabot.
” She pointed to the vid screen overhead. “We’ve been monitoring the atmosphere over the last several hours. The ionization and cloud density is getting worse.”

The signal for the
Cabot
flashed in the center of the screen. There were several dark, shaded areas across the planet’s surface, but the largest one to the
Cabot’s
south drew Hood’s attention. “What is that?”

“I reconfigured the planetary grid to identify surges in the ionization. It’s the only way we can get a strong comm signal to the surface. The severe electrical storms are putting any shuttle transport now at high risk.” She pointed to the area on the screen which, by Hood’s estimation, was over fifty kilometers across. “The sensors show the ionization is cascading across the planet’s atmosphere in waves, but the highest levels of ionization are in the shaded zones. They’re increasing at a rate fifty times faster than anywhere else. I think they could be the source.”

“Could this be a natural phenomenon?”

Aldridge shrugged. “I sent the data back home for analysis.
EDF
geology experts thought volcanic activity was a possibility, but there weren’t any seismic disturbances near those locations.”

Hood took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It would be a matter of days before the increasing clouds and electrical storms eliminated the ability to contact the colony. “When’s the next window to make contact?”

“Thirty minutes. The windows last for about ten minutes on average now.”

“Keep me posted. I need to make another call.” Hood walked to the Communications Station and found Wells reviewing the data on the stone image from Cygni. “Still doing your homework, Lieutenant?”

She laughed. “No, sir, just trying to understand more about this map. Kree was adamant of its importance, but unless he gets better, my research is at a standstill.”

He was worried about Kree too. His brief moment of clarity had been to warn him of the Chi’tan attack, then he’d slipped back into his delirium. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to snap him out of it. Who knows? Maybe he’ll heal his mind on his own.” At least he hoped. He changed the subject. “I need you to open a comm channel to the
Jeffries.
I ordered her to follow us once they finished their sweeps near the wreck of the
Cestus.
”

“Sure. I’ll use the beacon and try to reach her. If I can raise her, what should I say?”

“Just tell Lieutenant Commander Turnbow I need eyes on the edge of the system. He’ll know what I mean.”

* * *

The static on the vid screen inside the personnel compartment of the shuttle drowned out the last few words from Captain Hood. The communication window had closed, and Sanchez turned off the terminal. He was at a loss for words. Everyone on the planet was stuck until the ionization levels reduced, but no one had any idea when that would be. It was Cygni all over again, except this time they weren’t under attack by the Cilik’ti. Well, at least not yet.

He bounded down the shuttle boarding ramp and onto the dew-covered ground. Hammering and whirring of machinery were all around him. The Marines were hard at work building defenses. Large holes had been dug in strategic positions outside the plasma fence perimeter. Rectangular wooden forms were placed along the base and sides of the holes, and metal rods were stuffed deep into the ground. The bunkers were well underway. A large defensive platform, like the one McGregor had used on Cygni, was under construction in front of the gate. But based on Sanchez’s estimates, it was less than a third complete.

The Marine complement on the planet was only half of what there was on Cygni. The brigade had to cover regular patrols and the construction effort. The latter was taking longer than McGregor’s liking. He heard the huge Marine’s voice carrying over the morning air. Or at least, Sanchez thought it was morning. He stared at the clouds overhead. The deep gray he’d seen earlier was lightening, but it felt like heavy overcast day in Texas where he grew up.

Even with the longer days, the Marines were up early to make use of the daylight, but many of the colonists were still asleep. He noticed three colonists were up moving supplies to the vehicle yard. From the look of the boxes, it was hardening agents for the bunker concrete. At least a few of the colonists were helping today.

For the past several hours, everyone in the camp had been on edge. There was still no sign of the two missing Marine patrols or Commander Grange. Every Marine had a tracker embedded in his or her armor, but Lieutenant Searcy had been unable to find any of the missing Marines’ signals. The same for the life signal monitor in Grange’s arm. Sanchez had dispatched two of the shuttles to do a sensor sweep of the area, but their last report hadn’t provided any leads. The latest intel from the
Armstrong
was certain to drop the morale of everyone to a dangerous low.

Sanchez walked across the camp to the medical tent. He needed to hear good news, and perhaps Dr. Patton had positive results to share. Standing guard just outside the tent, dressed in her security armor, was Maya.

“Morning, Lieutenant,” he said with a half smile. Her blue eyes found his even behind the visor of her helmet. He noticed the warmth and confidence in them, and his mood improved.

“Good morning.” Maya’s voice was soft and relaxed. It was a welcome change.

“Is he awake?”

She peeked back inside the tent. “He hasn’t slept much. Even with one arm in a sling, he’s leading his team in analyzing the toxin.”

Sanchez ducked inside and barely dodged a medical technician who rushed past. He apologized, but the technician was in a hurry and never looked back.

Patton noticed him by the entrance. “Commander! Good to have you here. Please have Lieutenant Greywalker join us. I need to show you something.”