Predator (Old Ironsides Book 3) Page 23

  ‘Then this is how we do it,’ Tyrone said, raising his voice loudly enough to be heard across the cavern. ‘You can decide to sit here cowering in the dark, but that’s not who I understand the Ayleean people to be. The enemy will find us here, sooner or later and by your own admission you’ll fight until your deaths, so why not fight for your lives instead? If we can make it to a transport then we can make it to Fortitude and fight our way out of here.’

  ‘The drones will see us,’ Shylo replied. ‘They’re everywhere.’

  ‘But the enemy is not,’ Tyrone said. ‘There was only one capital ship up there in orbit, and one thing I did notice about them is that they’re powerful but slow, cumbersome. We don’t number enough people to fill a large vessel. A smaller, fast transport like Fortitude will easily out manoeuver that capital ship. The only danger will be getting control of Fortitude before the capital ship returns and blasts it to hell.’

  The elder leaned down to challenge him.

  ‘And the small matter of that ship being entirely consumed by shape shifting entities?’

  ‘We blast our way in,’ Tyrone said, ‘and we use the sap as a weapon to force the infiltrators back. If there’s enough of it out here in these forests, we should be able to overpower them and run for Sol.’

  ‘And do what?’ Shylo asked. ‘Beg for help?’

  Tyrone raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Your fleet just got wiped out in a single day. The CSS fleet is bigger and more powerful but I don’t think you’ll need to beg for anything. The more ships we can bring to the table, the better.’

  ‘Your senate vessels have no armor or weapons,’ the elder pointed out.

  ‘No,’ Tyrone conceded, ‘but it’s much faster than that capital ship up there. If we can take control of her, we’ll be out of here in no time.’

  The Ayleeans looked at each other for a moment as though weighing up the consequences of taking action or not taking action.

  ‘Our people,’ the elder said. ‘If we leave Ayleea, we leave other survivors to their fate.’

  ‘If you don’t leave you’ll be joining them sooner that you think,’ Tyrone replied. ‘You want to meet them having been shepherded there by infiltrators without a fight, or do you want to take a shot at coming back here with the CSS fleet behind you and the chance not just to join your people but to liberate them too?’

  Shylo looked at the elders for their guidance and slowly they nodded to him. He lifted his huge curved blade and turned to his people.

  ‘Prepare the weapons. We leave, in one hour!’

  Tyrone cringed in surprise as a hellish roar went up from the Ayleeans, their horrendous shrieks of bloodlust amplified by the confines of the cavern and their wild eyes gleaming like cruel stars in the darkness.

  ***

  XXIX

  The city crouched in the darkness, dwarfed by the immense mountain ranges soaring into the turbulent clouds tumbling by far above. The glow of the sunset was a vivid orange that silhouetted the mountains and their saw tooth peaks.

  Tyrone could see that the city itself was aflame. Thick columns of smoke spiraled up into the sky from fires that outlined the shape of tower blocks and the landing pads of a spaceport, some of which had collapsed. A tremendous fusion of modern technology and native resources, the city looked as though it had merged with the jungles over decades. Colossal steel and concrete pillars were entwined with dense foliage and vines, not the result of abandonment but a deliberate attempt to entwine nature with civilization.

  ‘The foliage is what’s burning,’ Shylo said as he crouched alongside Tyrone. ‘The city is still strong.’

  ‘But empty,’ Tyrone said as he observed their destination through a high powered lens built into his ocular implant.

  ‘They took everybody and everything,’ one of the elders said from behind them. ‘Took them up in their capital ships.’

  Shylo had explained on the journey that the alien capital ships had arrived outside of their fleet’s location in orbit. After the last defeat in battle against the CSS, the fleet had remained inside Ayleean space to effect repairs. They were still there when the attack came.

  Tyrone had listened as the Ayleeans told him how their own people turned against them in their thousands, shutting down power supplies, shield generators and weapons systems aboard all Ayleean vessels and even on the surface. Rendered defenseless in a matter of minutes, the Ayleean fleet was subjected to a merciless barrage that shattered what was left of their warships within minutes.

  ‘They destroyed everything before the fleet could fire a single shot in reply,’ Shylo had said as they had climbed a narrow ledge on a mountain side, a thousand foot drop just inches from them and Tyrone clinging to the rocky walls as he listened. ‘There was no defense against the orbital bombardment that followed, and only those of us who were not in the cities at the time of the attack survived the first onslaught.’

  As the capital ships had descended so they had targeted all of the defensive structures with pin point accuracy, apparently using their own infiltrators as guidance for their weapons. In the first few minutes the entire strategic and tactical network of defense installations the Ayleeans had constructed were neutralized.

  Then came the capital ships. Descending from orbit in the pre’dawn they targeted the cities and began collecting the Ayleean people in massive vessels that the Ayleeans had named harvesters.

  ‘Did you see them?’ Tyrone asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Shylo nodded, ‘we saw them. Every warrior in every city took to the streets armed with whatever weapons they could find and engaged the enemy directly, but it was no use.’

  Tyrone listened intently, trying to gather and memorize as much information about the attack as he could. He knew for sure that what had happened on Ayleea would happen again on earth, soon, and he had little time to figure out a suitable defense and get word to CSS.

  ‘What about the aliens themselves?’ Tyrone asked. ‘Were they armed?’

  Shylo gripped his plasma rifle tighter as he replied.

  ‘They move fast, too fast to easily shoot at, and they have twin whiplash spines on their shoulders that they use to poison victims. The moved in groups, too many for us to counter but they carried no actual weapons like plasma rifles.’

  Tyrone rolled his shoulders as he digested the information. ‘Sounds great.’

  Shylo looked at him curiously.

  ‘Sarcasm,’ Tyrone replied without looking at the warrior. ‘Right now, all we’ve got to worry about is the drones. You picking anything up yet?’

  The elders behind him were each holding passive scanners used to detect the presence of the cruel automated drones that had been turned against their creators.

  ‘Nothing yet, but they’re in there somewhere.’

  Tyrone waited for a moment as he took one last sweeping look at the city, and then he saw what he was looking for.

  ‘There, the western platform.’

  Shylo and the others looked through the smoke, and there upon the landing platform was a large shuttle. Tyrone could see that it was more than large enough for the two hundred or so Ayleeans in the group behind him, each of them laboring beneath the burden of a container filled with the thick sap of the goab trees.

  ‘We could make it directly there,’ Shylo observed. ‘The route is clear.’

  Tyrone looked at the city between them and the landing platform. There were no streets in the conventional sense. Instead, the city was arranged in irregular blocks that conformed to the terrain beneath them and passage through the city was via aerial walkways or by swinging using thick vines. Although the process seemed archaic it was possible for a citizen to cross from one side of the city to the other in less than fifteen minutes, so used to a life among the trees were the Ayleeans.

  ‘Can we all make it there within thirty minutes?’ Tyrone asked.

  Shylo nodded. ‘Yes, provided we are not blocked in our path by the drones. Why thirty minutes?’

  Tyrone checked the sky a
bove them. He knew that Ayleea orbited much closer in to its parent star than earth, but that its rate of rotation was also somewhat slower. The daylight would last perhaps another hour.

  ‘You said that the enemy attacked in the pre dawn,’ he said.

  ‘That’s a common time to attack any enemy,’ Shylo pointed out, ‘when they’re asleep and their body clock at its lowest ebb.’

  ‘Yeah, for humans that works, but maybe these creatures prefer hunting at night. If you’re right and they’re aquatic, they probably evolved in low light conditions beneath the waves. In about twenty minutes that sun is going to breach the trough between those two peaks and shine straight down on the city. The smoke and the glare of the sunlight might help confuse the aim of your enemy if you come out with the sunlight behind you.’

  Shylo looked at Tyrone and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  ‘It might also affect the drones’ ability to see us coming.’

  ‘Two birds, one stone,’ Tyrone replied. ‘Let’s move.’

  Shylo waved the Ayleeans on and they descended down the hillside, staying below and behind a ridgeline that led down toward the blackened surface of a boulder strewn river winding its way past the city. Tyrone could see numerous bridges crossing the water along the way, some of them burning but others intact and giving access to the city.

  ‘That way,’ Shylo whispered as he pointed to one of the larger bridges. ‘We will cross more quickly on that one.’

  Tyrone was about to agree when he thought again.

  ‘No,’ he replied, ‘we use them all. I don’t want the whole group in one place or it’ll make us an easier target to hit. Use the bridges further down, then we can cut back up toward the landing platform with the sun behind us. Don’t charge your weapons unless the enemy show themselves.’

  Tyrone crept down toward the water as Shylo used hand signals to break up the following group into smaller units, each heading for a different bridge as Tyrone crouched down behind a large, damp boulder and surveyed the city. He could see now the burning vines and trees, a thick smog of smoke drifting across the buildings on the hot wind. Each of the landing platforms on the far side of the city were on elevated towers perhaps a hundred feet high, draped with vines as well as metal ladders. In the interior of the pillars he could see elevator shafts but it was unlikely that they were functional given the devastation he could see everywhere else. Buildings were pockmarked with the scars of plasma fire, craters smoldering where the capital ships had blasted defensive structures into oblivion.

  Shylo crouched down alongside him.

  ‘We are ready.’

  Tyrone checked his plasma pistol’s magazine one last time. ‘Okay, once we move we’re committed so as fast as you can. I’ll cover the bridge below us from here, and have your sharp shooters do the same.’

  Shylo nodded, and then with a broad gesture with one thickly muscled arm he waved his fellow survivors forward. Instantly, the Ayleean flooded silently out from their hiding places and rushed onto the bridges.

  Shylo leaped up and sprinted away, surprisingly agile for such a big warrior as he leaped across rocks and landed on the nearest bridge at a run. Tyrone heard the rumbling of hundreds of footfalls on the bridge, the black water beneath them rippling as the water trembled in concert with the vibrations.

  Tyrone’s gaze switched to a movement in the water as one of the boulders beneath the surface was dislodged by the vibrations and began moving with the flow of the water. Even as he saw it he spotted another moving, and then another, and with growing horror he realized that Shylo had been right about the alien invaders: they were aquatic in nature.

  ‘Enemy, below!’

  Tyrone shouted the warning as loudly as he could even as the surface of the water burst as dozens of grotesque creatures crashed out of the waves to shrieks of war lust, their gray backs looking just like the boulders around them. Tyrone saw them emerge from the water, eight legged monstrosities something between a giant crab and a rhinoceros. Their bodies were scaled with thick, gray plates laden with lumps and bumps like the thick hide of a whale, their legs segmented like those of an insect but also covered in the strange armor. He could see the coiling, writhing whiplash spines that Shylo had mentioned, black eyes between them searching with a soul less gaze for their next victim.

  ‘Covering fire!’ Shylo bellowed as he sprinted across the bridge.

  Tyrone activated his pistol and fired at the enemy nearest Shylo, saw the blast hit its back and burrow deeply through its armor to burn into its flesh in a puff of gray smoke. The creature shrieked in agony and turned to look Tyrone in the eye as he fired again and again.

  The Ayleeans flocked across the bridges, bright flares of plasma fire zipping this way and that as they opened fire on the animals now swarming up onto the bridges, their long legs twisting around support pillars and hauling them out of the water.

  Tryone checked his left and saw several Ayleean sharpshooters picking off the enemy one by one as they emerged from the water, a hail of plasma fire hissing as it rained down on the grotesque creatures swarming out of the river.

  ‘Move, now!’ Tyrone shouted. ‘Change positions!’

  The Ayleeans did not respond, firing endlessly at their enemy.

  ‘Change positions, covering fire!’ Tyrone yelled above the crescendo of gunfire.

  The creatures swarmed up the hillside, clambering up the rocks below the shooters and then rushing their positions. Tyrone felt his heart plunge as he saw one of them rush into the hiding place of an Ayleean rifleman, moving far too quickly for the warrior to turn and shoot it at close range.

  The warrior’s rifle was smashed aside by one of the creature’s legs as another pinned him down. Tyrone flinched as he saw both of the poisonous spines plunge into the Ayleean’s chest. The warrior screamed in agony and then he was silenced as rows of razor sharp teeth crunched through his face and skull and it burst like a ripe watermelon.

  Tyrone leaped out of his position and backed up the hillside by ten paces before he jumped back down into cover and began firing again. He could see the survivors streaming into the city and flocking toward the landing pads, and he fired in support of Shylo and his comrades as they protected their people against the sudden onslaught.

  Tyrone aimed carefully at one charging creature and fired, the shot smashing into the back of its body and striking one of its hind legs. The creature faltered as it screamed in pain, its leg dragging behind it.

  ‘Go for the legs!’ Tyrone yelled above the din of battle at Shylo. ‘Take their legs ou…!’

  Tyrone jerked backward as something flashed before him and screamed as a huge creature scrambled up the rock face and blocked his aim. A vast gray bulk of hardened keratin armor topped by vicious serrated teeth and beady black eyes glared down at him, thick legs straddling the rocks either side of his hiding place as two writhing spines reared back and then rushed toward him.

  ***

  XXX

  Tyrone hurled himself forward as the spines plunged down and he heard them smash into the rocks behind him as he crouched beneath the creature’s belly and pushed his pistol up underneath its jaw and fired twice.

  The plasma shots blasted into its squat neck and Tyrone yelled out in pain as searing plasma splashed across his hands. He jerked back from the scorching plasma spray as the creature writhed in agony and then sprawled over his hiding place, squashing him beneath its bulk. Tyrone saw its head slumped against the rocks before him, black eyes staring back at him but now lifeless as the lethal spines drooped uselessly against the rocks.

  Tyrone crouched in horror as he saw more of the creatures rush past as they stormed up the hillside, heard tortured screams of pain as the Ayleean shooters were taken down by the advancing horde. Quickly he shut his plasma pistol off as he realized that the dead body of the creature above him was effectively shielding him from view of the rest of their attackers. Tyrone crouched down and turned, watched as Shylo and the other Ayleeans advanced into the cit
y, the sunlight streaming down through the clouds behind them and making them harder to see for the pursuing creatures advancing toward them.

  The Ayleeans took to the vines and the trees, soaring through their city above and beyond the octopeds’ reach with a grace and skill that Tyrone realized that he admired. He cussed under his breath, reminding himself of what they had been capable of during their wars with humanity, but he couldn’t help himself silently willing them on.

  Tyrone watched, and then his heart sank as he heard a vibrant humming noise. He turned and saw clouds of drones plunging down the mountain side toward the city, their ugly black abdomens gleaming in the sunlight. They raced past nearby as Tyrone watched helplessly, and then they were gone across the river and the noise subsided. He could still hear the crump and whistle of plasma energy and the cries of battle but he could see nobody now, the battle moving toward the landing pads. Carefully, Tyrone checked around him and then he clambered from beneath the dead octoped and turned to look over the river behind him.

  The rocks were littered with dead octopeds and also the remains of Ayleeans, their bodies torn apart in a bloody frenzy during the attack. Rockers were stained red with the blood of the fallen, and bizarre splashes of deep purple blood leaking from the veins of their attackers.

  Tyrone knew that he could neither save nor reach Shylo and his people. If he was lucky and they reached the shuttle, perhaps they might have turned around and picked him up but he doubted it, the Ayleeans as treacherous as they were ugly. No, now his only chance was to reach his Phantom fighter, its plasma cannons his ticket out of here aboard the shuttle: comply or die, as he used to like to say. Tyrone turned to run up the hillside and head for the shore where he’d left the fighter, and then he heard a distant cry

  He looked over his shoulder and saw on the far side of one of the bridges an Ayleean infant, perhaps a few years old. Within inches of the child was the octoped he’d injured with his earliest shots, its scorched and twisted legs dragging behind it as it crawled toward the stricken Ayleean child.