ATLAS 2 (ATLAS Series Book 2) (46 page)

The entire belt was dimly lit by the Tau Ceti G-class star, which was a pinpoint in the distance. The swirling purple-black vapors of the gas giant Tau Ceti III provided a constant backdrop below.

I jetted forward, dodging the larger rocks, putting as many targets between me and the frigate as possible.

I glanced at the HUD map on my helmet. Other than the green dots of Hijak and Lana, I didn’t see anything else except the enemy ship, which was also marked in green. It hadn’t moved.

“Switch to war-game mode,” I transmitted. “We’re the only friendlies. Leave everything else red.”

Since we were all operating SK gear out here, by default the ship and any other SK units would be marked in green—friendlies. We would exchange telemetry data, constantly updating our positions with all other SK units in range. Though right now we were probably too far from the ship to share any meaningful telemetry data. Even so, if any other SK units approached, we would instantly know their positions, and they would know ours.

War-game mode changed all that. It was very useful in training, for obvious reasons.

As it was useful now.

“Hopper, initiate war-game mode,” I said.

“War-game mode initiated.”

Every unit on my HUD map became red, including Hijak, Lana, and the distant frigate. I immediately tagged Hijak and Lana as friendlies, and their icons returned to green. I left the frigate in red, so that we no longer exchanged telemetry.

“Do you know how to activate war-game mode, Lana?” I sent over the comm. A small rock bounced away from my chest piece.

“Done already,” she replied.

“Nice,” I sent. “Now then, all that’s left is to set up an early warning system.” To my mech: “Hopper, launch ATLAS Support System.”

Hopper didn’t reply.

“Hopper, launch ASS.”

Still nothing. Either the ATLAS 6 didn’t have an ASS, or the scout was launched via an entirely different command.

“Trying to get your ASS in gear are you?” Hijak jetted past me, and applied a vertical burst to avoid hitting an ATLAS-sized rock.

“Funny.” I followed suit behind him, shoving off from the boulder. “Hopper, how do I launch the provided ATLAS Support System drone?”

“The ATLAS Support System drone assigned to this unit has been jettisoned,” the female AI intoned.

Ah.

“Hijak, see if you can fire a support probe.”

“Already tried,” Hijak answered. “Looks like someone launched it on this mech already. And it never returned.”

“Damn. Mine too. Lana, what about yours?”

“I’ll check,” she returned.

I glanced over my shoulder, scanning for pursuers. I saw only the endless floating bodies of the ring belt behind me. Even the thermal band was blank. If the frigate had left cover, I would’ve seen its thermal signature by now.

Even so, we weren’t out of this yet. Not by a long shot.

“Got it,” she transmitted. A small HS3-type probe ejected from her mech, and maneuvered behind one of the larger rocks. “I’ve switched the probe to the war-game setting, and marked the three of us as friendlies so we’ll all receive updates. I’ll leave it here in stealth mode, set to squawk on the approach of any nonmineral objects.”

“Perfect.”

I continued onward, moving from rock to rock, bumping into the smaller ones, avoiding the larger. We followed the orbital path of the ring belt, continuing to put distance between ourselves and the enemy. I looked back occasionally, but still there were no signs of pursuit. I saw only the endless panorama of slowly drifting rocks. On the map, Lana’s drone remained in place, the only other dot between us and the frigate.

“Lana,” I transmitted. “You’ve never actually piloted an ATLAS 6 before today, have you?”

“I’ve never piloted any sort of mech,” she admitted.

“Doesn’t that freak you out?” I sent.

“Not at all.”

“Well it freaks me out!” Hijak interjected. “You had a Phant tinkering with your brain. You’re a cast-off alien host. Who can say what they did to you?”

“I am what I am,” Lana sent. “I have memories of another life. And I will use them.” She tried to put on a brave front, but I heard the uncertainty and sadness in her voice. She’d never really be quite human ever again, would she?

“I find Dyson Xang’s rancor disturbing,” Lana transmitted suddenly. “You, I could understand, Rade Galaal. But him? He has Sino-Korean ancestry, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t go there,” Hijak sent. I could almost hear the growl in his voice.

“It doesn’t help that you interrogated and tortured us for the past week,” I said. “Sure, it wasn’t you. At least you say it wasn’t. The Phant may be gone now, but who knows how deep its tendrils reached into your mind, and what remnants of the alien personality are still inside? You just admitted you have memories of another life. How do you even know you’re yourself again, when who you were was overwritten?”

“Tell me how I can prove that I am who I say I am. That I am free of alien influence.”

“That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” I thought for a moment. “It would help if you told us how you ended up on the ship in the first place.”

She didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was quiet, reflective. “I was on Tau Ceti II-c. It was after a spaceline flight. It happened so suddenly. The skies blackened. The deadly rain fell. People died in the streets, melted away. Then the robots started attacking. It was my birthday.
My birthday
. I shouldn’t have even been there, but the spaceline called me in to cover for a sick pilot.” She sobbed.

One thing I couldn’t take was a woman crying. It just ripped at my heartstrings. I wanted to hold Lana and tell her everything was going to be all right. But of course I couldn’t do any of that out here in space.

“I made it back to my hotel room,” Lana continued, “where I was captured, and brought to one of the sports arenas, which had been converted into a holding facility. That’s where I met the Artificial. It called itself
Zh
ö
d
ö
o,
the Guide. It promised that if we surrendered, we would be part of the twenty percent who were spared. That we would receive the technology of the Guide’s people and bask in their enlightenment. And that we would serve them. It was very similar to the promise the Guide made to you.

“Like most people in the arena, I surrendered, and gave up the password to my embedded ID. But if I had known then what surrendering truly entailed, I wouldn’t have done it. I would have chosen death instead. Because you see, I was brought to a room beneath the arena, where I discovered that my ‘enlightenment’ was to be integrated with the alien species.

“The Yaoguai
had possessed our Weavers, and used them to graft metallic devices to our skulls and spines, which allowed the demons a conduit to our minds. When all the occupants of the arena were converted to appropriate Yaoguai
conduits, the demons abandoned many of the robots, preferring the sensual pleasures of human flesh.

“It’s the oddest feeling, observing your body doing things of its own accord, with your mind reduced to the capacity of a mere observer. And that’s really all I was—I couldn’t think, not in the usual way, not with words and images anyway. But the observer part of my mind was still active, and I was aware of everything. So that’s what I did. I observed. Watched the debasing acts that were done to my body, and the disgusting things my body did in turn.

“When the demons tired of their sensual explorations, they delved into the knowledge gleaned from our embedded IDs. Soon they learned to program the robots to their whims, and no longer needed Yaoguai
to possess the machines. They learned how to operate our shuttles and city defense systems.

“But the passage of knowledge wasn’t only one way. I too learned things during this time. The enemy communicate telepathically, as I have told you, and once one demon learns something, that knowledge is passed on to every other demon of the same class, regardless of where the others are located, galaxy-wide. It does take time to propagate this knowledge, and I am not sure of the exact mechanism, but all I know is the more people we lose to them, the quicker they learn how to defeat the rest of us. We are not the first species to face the demons. And if we do not stop them, we definitely will not be the last.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Still no sign of pursuit. Maybe we were going to get away after all.

We were quite far from the support probe now, but it still transmitted telemetry to my HUD, which meant reception was surprisingly good out here. Though the Skull Ship wasn’t in orbit around this particular gas giant, its EM signals could travel system-wide, and we should have experienced at least some interference. Maybe the planet shielded us from the signals. Either way, I resolved to enjoy the improved range while it lasted.

“So you’re saying you had no affiliation with Dragon platoon?” I said over the comm. “The SKs sent down with us to the moon? Do you even know what I’m talking about?”

“I do,” Lana sent. “And no, we weren’t part of Dragon platoon. Though we were in the warehouse, firing at Dragon platoon right alongside the robots. That’s right. Firing at our own people. You see, we were protecting the Guide. We purloined the glass container from the SK platoon when we realized it was bulletproof, and we planned to use it to safely transport the Guide away. When you two showed up, that was an unexpected bonus. We had our chance to integrate more members of the UC. The much-vaunted MOTHs.”

“Why was the Guide on the moon in the first place?” I said.

“To observe the proceedings firsthand,” Lana sent. “And gather as much data as it could on humanity. The Guide reports directly to an entity known as the Observer Mind.”

“And what the hell is that?” I was getting a bit of a starvation headache, and I ordered my suit to prepare an MRE (Meal, Ready-to-Eat, or more commonly, it’s not a Meal, it’s not Ready, and you can’t Eat it).

“I honestly don’t know,” Lana answered.

The MRE nozzle jammed into my mouth, and I took a huge gulp of banana-flavored gruel. Not bad tasting, actually, if you could get over the texture. “This invasion is getting better and better all the time. An alien empire, which can communicate telepathically galaxy-wide, led by some ominous being known as the Observer Mind. What’s next, an entire army of Skull Ships?”

“Hey, don’t jinx us,” Hijak transmitted.

“Hijak, I don’t think anything I say at this point can make things any worse than they are.”

An alert sounded, and five red dots appeared on the HUD map at my six, as relayed by the support probe Lana had planted behind us.

“You were saying?” Hijak sent.

“
Mierda
.” I dismissed the MRE nozzle. A glob of banana-flavored gruel trickled down my chin.

“What do you think?” Hijak transmitted. “Torpedoes? Mortars? Or fighters?”

“None of the above. Frigates don’t have fighters. Mortars are too easy to dodge. And torpedoes couldn’t navigate this mess worth a damn. So Lana, what the hell are they?”

“I’m getting a visual now . . .” Lana responded. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“We’re being pursued by the other ATLAS 6s. All five.”

“Damn it,” I said. “We should have ordered the mechs to come with us.”

“Too late now,” Hijak sent. “Should’ve thought of that before.”

“Yeah well, it was kind of hard to think with that Klaxon blaring in the hangar bay.”

But he was right. I should’ve thought of it. This was my fault.

Damn it to hell.

Well, nothing we could do about it now. We’d just have to deal with them.

“Rage, is your PASS device still on?” Hijak sent.

“Yeah, why?”

“Nicely done,” Hijak transmitted. “They’re obviously using it to track us. Turn it off, bro.”

“No,” I said. “First of all, if I turn it off now, it will just alert the pursuers that we’re on to them. Secondly, it doesn’t matter. Atomic-powered machines like mechs leave a radiation trail. Not to mention the heat signatures we’re emitting at this very moment. No, my friend, we’re leaving a bright and shiny trail for them to follow regardless of whether the PASS is on or off.”

“Okay fine,” Hijak transmitted. “One thing I can’t figure out: Why wouldn’t the Guide just nuke the whole area?”

“Even if the Guide didn’t want the UC to recover us anymore, there are too many rocks between us and the ship to fire a nuke now.” I switched to direct communication, cutting out Lana. “Protecting Lana has to be our top priority, understood? She knows things about the enemy. She could be the key to winning this war. You have to put aside your differences, Hijak. Forget for a moment she’s SK. Forget for a moment she was an alien host.”

Hijak didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice seemed resigned. “I’ll do my best. But if it comes to you or her, I’m choosing you, Rage.”

I was going to counter him, but decided not to. Nothing I could say would change his mind. If it came down to it, I wasn’t sure who I’d pick between them, either.

“I’m having the ASS follow the targets at a safe distance,” Lana transmitted. “And I’m keeping its stealth mode active. I’ve instructed the drone to move from rock to rock via small thruster bursts. No constant emissions.”

“Good.” That was exactly what I would have done. It was kind of scary how much knowledge the Phants had assimilated about human technology and tactics already. Knowledge that was imparted to Lana.

The ASS drone was battery powered, and didn’t have a radiation signature. The heat profile was relatively small too. As long as it stayed well back, and hid behind appropriately sized rocks, it could remain undiscovered for quite a while.

I studied the red dots on the HUD map and considered our options. We had a significant lead on the pursuers. We could continue onward through the ring belt for several hours, maybe even days if we switched our mechs to autopilot while we slept. But we wouldn’t be able to outrun them indefinitely. Eventually we’d run low on jetpack fuel, and we’d have to fight.

Better to face them now, on our own terms, while we still had an active scout on their six.