Six #2
The warriors looked at the tunnel barely wide enough for their shoulders. One by one they dropped their packs and squeezed through, careful to stay away from the pipe. Each of them made it without touching the contaminated metal.
She watched Renjik go through last, her eyes focusing on his muscles shifting beneath the tight armor. He looked back at her in time to catch her lick her lips.
“Focus.”
“I am focused. I’m multitasking.”
His mouth twitched.
They reached a maintenance balcony overlooking the main environmental control area without further incident. Scozid technicians moved among short black towers as their tentacles flicked over tablets. Armed guards surrounded the chamber.
In the center stood a containment cylinder on steroids. Small windows showed it to be filled with their contact-vector bioweapon.
Na’ashq’ii went rigid, his plates lifting in waves, lights going bright purple.
Purple was new.
Willow stared at the container.
“Deployment system?”
“No. That’s a reservoir.” She scanned the chamber, looking for how the broadcast connected to the weapon.
The Scozid wouldn’t trust one guard with ensuring the receiver could hear the broadcast. They’d make the ceremony itself responsible.
She knew they’d want maximum damage and maximum witnesses.
Which meant the broadcast needed to be heard beyond Kerrak, and the system needed to spread to every living thing on the moon.
She spotted the speaker openings at the top of the chamber. Renjik pointed to one.
“Station-wide communication.”
She shook her head and studied the container again. She realized that what she’d initially thought were energy cables were tubing. They snaked from the freha enhek into every doorway and every vent.
“They’re going to coat the floors in it.” She looked in the direction where they’d gathered the civilians. The largest hose ran in the same direction. “They’ll flood the rooms.”
“Can you break the activation cadence?”
Willow stared at the unfamiliar setup and the guards. An impossible clock ticked down in her mind. Could she? Probably not.
“Yes.” She projected every ounce of stubborn confidence she had.
Renjik knew she was lying. He trusted her anyway. “Tell us what to do.”
RENJIK LIKED SIMPLE battles. The enemy in front of him, weapon in hand, clear objective. This wasn’t simple.
Willow crouched in front of the team on the balcony, whispering instructions while Na’ashq’ii pulsed between black and purple against her neck.
“The ring of nodes around the base control distribution. There’s a space between where the nodes are attached and the main container, see?”
They looked and nodded.
“I think there’s a main control valve in that space. It would be best to get to it before the broadcast finishes the activation phrase. If that fails, we’ll need to take out the nodes simultaneously. If even one valve opens, the rest will follow.”
Renjik watched the guards begin a standard patrol. “What if we disconnect the communication speaker?”
“That would help, but the Scozid would need to be separated from their tablets. I suspect they’re backup receivers.” She glanced around the team. “Quietly, if possible. We need to assume every console in this room can route the broadcast to the weapon.”
Renjik signaled the team. They moved in two groups. The first descended through a service ladder at the rear of the room. The second used an upper walkway to move to the opposite side in flanking position. Willow remained in the access tunnel.
The first guard died silently. Renjik caught the second by the throat and squeezed until it popped.
Its insides splashed the floor, and multiple heads turned toward them.
His team of three kept moving, going clockwise around the center.
He caught small sounds from the other team as they neutralized Scozid in their path.
The alarm rang out, loud and jarring.
Willow’s shout behind him made him turn.
“I need access!”
She pointed at the cylinder before scurrying down the ladder.
He tapped the other two warriors and signaled his intent over the rising metallic shriek of the alarm. They nodded and turned their attention to the Scozid who surged toward them.
He pushed Willow behind him and cut a path to the center of the room.
The alarm cut off with a sudden deafness, and Scozid language filled the room in its place.
Willow crouched in front of the container and yelled, “thirty seconds!”
He didn’t stop shooting as he shouted back, “We don’t have thirty seconds!”
A Scozid bolt struck his synth forearm. The impact spun him a quarter turn and sent warning errors through the implant. He ignored them and fired back.
Willow grabbed his belt and yanked. A pulse tore through the space where his head had been.
He nodded and resumed firing one-handed while his damaged arm reset inputs in bursts of pain and static.
He kept one eye on the advancing Scozid and one eye on Willow.
She snapped a console open and plunged into the system with both hands.
The freha enhek inside the container began to glow.
“Willow!”
“I see it!”
The substance began to churn. Scozid chittered from the edges of the room, then turned and ran.
The nodes lit up. Na’ashq’ii screamed.
Not clicked, not hissed. Screamed.
Its plates lifted higher than Renjik had ever seen. The purple deepened toward black. Every tentacle pointed toward the spreading freha enhek.
The sound cut through Renjik.
Willow gasped and ripped her hands from the console.
“Up,” Renjik roared. He grabbed her and threw her on the top of the container as the freha enhek flowed through the conduits at its base.
All five of the other warriors turned to seal the doors leading from the chamber. They were forced to abandon them as the substance crept toward them. They climbed ladders and made it safely onto the raised walkway.
Renjik climbed last, his cybernetic hand slipping on the smooth upper edge before catching.
Too slow. Freha enhek hit his boot and he hung, not willing to climb the rest of the way and put Willow in danger.
Na’ashq’ii launched from Willow’s neck and struck Renjik’s leg with all its small weight.
Three tentacles wrapped around the boot.
It flared bright blue and emitted a string of clicks and whistles.
The sound wasn’t random. The creature’s lights dimmed with every sound.
A click. Dimmer. Another. Dimmer still. Like it was burning through something it couldn’t replace.
The sound had a rhythm. The green ooze turned black and flecked off like dried paint.
Willow froze. “That’s not a warning call.” Willow stared at the blackened freha enhek clinging to Renjik’s boot. The dead contamination. The rhythm. The way Na’ashq’ii had repeated it. The way the freha enhek responded immediately. Her eyes widened. “It’s not detecting the weapon.”
Renjik looked at her. “What?”
“It’s issuing instructions.” She looked down at Na’ashq’ii. “That’s a command.”
Then she made a sound of horror as the creature slipped from his boot. “Na’ashq’ii!”
Renjik grabbed the creature as it went slack. Its plates dimmed to dull gray as he joined her on top of the cylinder.
Willow scooped it up and cradled it to her chest. “No, no, no. Please be okay.”
“Is it dead?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
One of the warriors shouted. “We need to move! It’s climbing the walls!”
Willow stared at Na’ashq’ii, then at the walls. Renjik saw the moment grief became fury.
“They modified it to move on inorganic substances. Na’ashq’ii neutralized it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning tuppu isn’t the only counter measure.” She put Na’ashq’ii inside her suit against her chest and said, “Cover me.”
He wasn’t sure from what since all the Scozid had run.
She dumped one of her personal tuppu containers on the floor near the access panel, then dropped down. The next minutes were spent listening to Willow mutter curses as she dove into the Scozid system with a half-dead alien creature tucked against her.
Willow’s focus was so absolute it seemed to bend the room around her. A low, vibrating pulse began to sound through the chamber. It coalesced into a repeated sound that was very near identical to the one Na’ashq’ii had made as it clung to his leg. It resonated through the walls and floor.
The spread of the freha enhek slowed, and then stopped. It turned black in a wave that started at the base of the container and raced through the tubing, up the walls and into every surface it had touched.
Willow laughed.
Renjik dropped to the floor. “What did you do?”
“Rendered it inert. Maybe. Probably.” Her voice shook. “Ask me after I throw up.”
A team member called from above, “The weapon is neutralized in this chamber.”
“Structure-wide?”
“Unknown.”
Command came through comms. “The Scozid ships orbiting Kerrak are powering their weapons. They’re targeting the structure.”
Willow shook her head. “The test failed, so they’ll destroy the evidence.”
“Time to leave.”
“The civilians.”
“We can’t evacuate them.”
She grabbed his arm. “We can broadcast the warning. Give them a chance to evacuate themselves.”
Pain, exhaustion and fear for Na’ashq’ii were all written on her face. He wanted to get her as far from the moon as possible. He knew she needed to try to save everyone. “What do you need?”
“Central communications.”
Renjik looked at the doors at the far end of the chamber. Beyond them were the command center, and every high-ranking Scozid left on the moon. He toggled his mic. “How long before the Scozid weapons fire?”
“Maybe twenty minutes,” came the reply.
He smiled.
“That’s an alarming expression.”
“Stay close.”
He signaled the team. In moments they were in attack formation. He nodded and an Azar swung open the door. He led the charge.