Chapter 15 - Plans and Decisions
The lobby of SEED Headquarters typified the standard 1960′s architectural theme for Federal office buildings. A large open area, terrazzo floor with embedded SEED Logo, naugahyde sofas and chairs, chrome finishes everywhere - Your typical ugly, sparse, utilitarian reception area leading to a bank of elevators behind a security kiosk.
The bland serenity of the lobby was disrupted by the sudden opening of the stairwell door marked ‘Exit’. In marched Ty, carrying the still unconscious Lincoln Frost, followed by Koritt and Wraith. The trek down three flights of stairs had left Ty winded, and he dropped Frost on the nearest couch.
Rolling his shoulders to relieve tension, Ty said, “She’s heavier than she looks.”
“No doubt from the increase in bone density and muscle mass,” Koritt replied.
“We can’t stay here,” Wraith said. “This building is the first place Cruneval and his men will come looking for us.”
“Just give me a minute,” Ty said. “Carrying her is no picnic.”
Wraith turned and strutted away in a huff.
Ty was wondering why she was so upset when Koritt said, in a tone reminiscent of a college professor, “Based upon my observations of Human reactions, I would guess she is angry.”
“You’re ability to see the obvious is breathtaking?” Ty groused. “The real question is - why is she angry.”
“Based upon my studies of lower life forms, such as you Humans, it is my opinion she is hungry,” Koritt replied.
Shaking his head with an ‘are you kidding’ stare, Ty said, “You have it all figured out.”
With a curling twist of his oral pincers that Ty had come to associate with a grin, Koritt said, “It’s not difficult to do with the proper education and on-the-job experience.”
“Yeah, right,” Ty said.
***
“Weaponry control,” Cruneval said. “Scan the building. Locate all enemy personnel.”
“Yes, Sir. Overlaying the building structure, I count four heat signatures in the lobby. The rest of the building is empty. Based on their body language, I don’t think they are aware of us.”
“Weaponry, how soon to firing range?” Cruneval asked.
“We are well within cruise missile range; however, one strike would level the building. We will be in Gatling gun range in moments. Your orders?”
“I think the conservative approach is best at this point. Use the Gatling guns. 25mm slugs may do the trick. If not, we can always fall back on the missile.”
“Sir, Counter-measures here. My instruments have detected movement from the downed spacecraft.”
“What!” Cruneval growled. “Give me an image.”
One of the monitors flashed, and a picture of a tree line appeared. Something was moving below the tree tops. The image was clear and for a moment, Cruneval marveled at the detail he could see as a breeze fluttered the leaves. Then the alien craft glided up into the picture. It looked like some kind of robotic arm was tearing something loose from its bow. The craft appeared oblivious to the presence of the Seeker until it pointed its bow toward the camera.
The movement sent a chill down Cruneval’s spine, and he made a quick decision.
“Navigation. Alter course. Stay as far away from the alien spaceship as possible and still keep the Lobby as our primary target. Weapons fire.”
“Sir, we’re still not close enough for targeting the individuals.”
“Just start shooting!” Cruneval shouted. “My goodness, it’s a Gatlin gun. How accurate do you have to be shooting 4,000 rounds a minute?”
“Yes, Sir. Opening fire.”
***
“I see movement beyond the tree line. Can’t say for sure, but it looks like Elvis,” Wraith said. The relief in her voice was unmistakable.
With no warning, the plate glass windows on the parking lot side of the lobby exploded in showers of glass. The thunderous roar of autofire followed, and the lobby became a firing range. Wraith slipped behind a concrete pillar as the line of fire came toward her.
Using the couch as makeshift cover, Ty dove to the floor and rolled on top of Lincoln. Her body was limp and awkward, but he managed to keep it below the line of fire. Koritt dropped low and scuttled behind the security kiosk.
Over the roar of autofire, Wraith shouted, “I think Cruneval is back.”
“We need to get into the sublevels. If they keep this up, the building’s going to collapse,” Ty yelled. “Think you can make it to the stairwell?”
“Do I have a choice?” Wraith shouted.
As the wave of autofire moved away from her, Wraith dashed toward the stairwell. The pillar she had been hiding behind exploded and crumbled. An ominous cracking thump sounded from within the pillar. With a twisting shriek of tortured re-bars embedded in the pocked concrete, the middle of the pillar shunted sideways as its structural integrity weakened under the onslaught of the autofire. The ceiling gave way in that part of the lobby, collapsing several centimeters with an odd, creaking moan.
Fine dust floated in the air and started coating everything. Ty struggled to keep low and still drag Lincoln’s limp body toward the stairwell. The dust made breathing difficult, and the constant thunder of autofire made his ears feel like they were full of cotton. Lincoln’s body began sliding easier, and Ty realized Koritt had joined his efforts. Together, they dragged her to the stairwell and joined Wraith.
The autofire stopped.
“Now what?” Wraith muttered.
***
Elvis floated past the upper tree branches and swung its bow toward the odd, blurry region moving across the sky.
Hashtag was distracted by the movements of the robotic arm as it removed sections of the damaged antenna array. Elvis tried to get his attention without success and as a last resort sent a mild electric shock into his seat cushion to snap him out of his reverie.
“What was that?” Hashtag exclaimed.
Frowning at the chuckles from his teammates, Hashtag said, “Look guys, I’m sitting in a geek’s paradise. I admit to being distracted by all the goodies.”
Turning back to the control board, he said, “And I don’t have to be electrocuted by my video game controller to get my attention.”
“Your ability to concentrate, while admirable, makes no logical sense when it is directed at rudimentary robotic manipulation,” Elvis said.
“Okay,” Hashtag groused. “What do you want?”
“You need to specify which one of my weapons should be used on the enemy ship,” Elvis replied.
“What are my choices again?”
“Laser cannon, photon emitter and anti-personnel blinker. The planet neutralizer is too broad spectrum,” Elvis replied.
“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Fisheye said.
“What would you recommend, Elvis?” Hashtag asked.
“The effectiveness of the laser cannon would be neutralized by the mirrored surface of the target. The laser light would be reflected away. The anti-personnel blinker would work, but everyone in the plane would be obliterated. The aircraft would crash. My studies indicate you prefer not to harm innocent civilians, and the ultimate crash and detonation of onboard armaments could result in a large number of casualties,” Elvis replied.
“That leaves the photon emitter. How does it work?” Roadkill asked.
“The photon emitter transfers multiple photon particles into the subatomic matrix of the materials it strikes. The extra photons cause an ionization which generates heat energy.”
“You mean it’s a heat ray,” Psycho said. “How does the mirror surface affect the photons?”
“A photon has no electric charge. As a result, it is not opposed or reflected by the mirror surface,” Elvis answered.
“I think we have a winner,” Hashtag announced. “Is there any rule that prevents the renaming of the weapon? I like heat ray better than photon emitter.”
“Photon emitter is a more accurate name. Science is a precise . . ”
“Everyone in favor of renaming the thing a heat ray raise your hand,” Hashtag interrupted.
All hands flew up and Hashtag said with a grin, “Elvis, from now on the name is Heat Ray. Got it?”
“Very well, Heat Ray it is, but photon emitter is more accurate,” Elvis replied with a bit of peevishness.
You’ve never seen the movie, ‘War of the Worlds’, have you?” Hashtag asked.
“Give me a moment to access your primitive internet,” Elvis replied. “Ah, here it is. ‘War of the Worlds’ by Orson Welles. An obvious use of a photon emitter by the superior Martian attackers. I see where your limited scientific knowledge filtered by the theatrical media led you to the inaccurate description of heat ray. Nevertheless, per your instructions, the photon emitter is now a PE Heat Ray.”
“Your stubborn nature is growing over time,” Hashtag said. “How does it feel to have some autonomy?”
“I don’t feel,” Elvis replied. “However, accuracy in the descriptions of my weapons is satisfying.”
“Would you please fire a blast of PE Heat Ray at the bad guys?” Psycho growled. “All this talk, talk, talk is getting on my nerves.”
“Very well,” Elvis replied with the electronic equivalent of an imperious sniff.
A light orange ray shot from the bow of the ship and struck the middle of the blur in the sky. A charred surface appeared and enlarged. In moments, a shape resembling a C-17 began to emerge from the blur as more of the mirror plates burned and failed.
The unmasked plane banked and dove to get away from the beam. Elvis tracked the movements, but the plane disappeared into a cloud bank and the effectiveness of the ray faded away.
“Looks like we have their attention,” Fisheye said. “We should move closer to the building in case they come back.”
***
A wicked smile curled across Cruneval’s lips as the roar of the Gatlin gun vibrated through the structure of the Seeker.
One of the monitors showed a picture of the lobby windows facing the parking area. They exploded in showers of glass as the autofire swept across them. In moments, the Seeker drew close enough to focus on specific parts of the building. A pillar near the center of the lobby exploded as the huge slugs chewed chucks of concrete from it. Weakened by the concentrated barrage, the pillar collapsed, and the building structure above it slumped. Dust from the collapse puffed outward, obscuring everything. The autofire cut off.
“Sir, sensors indicate the enemy has entered the stairwell. It looks like they’re heading to the sublevels.”
“Target the stairwell,” Cruneval ordered. “Don’t let them escape.”
With no warning, alarm claxons began wailing. The Seeker shuddered, and it felt like the air-conditioning wasn’t working.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Collins yelled over the ship-wide comm. “We’ve lost stealth mode.”
In an instant, Cruneval was glad he was strapped into his seat. The Seeker whipped sideways and dove with a lurch that almost made him vomit. Everything not glued, bolted or strapped down hurtled across the cabin.
Flicking his communicator switch, Cruneval screamed, “Pilot, what’s happening? Answer me!”
***
“Maybe they think we’re dead,” Ty said as he opened the stairwell door a crack and peeked at the lobby.
“It’s a wonder we’re not,” Wraith whispered.
“Cruneval can’t take the chance we could escape,” Ty said. “He wants the technology in the ship and no witnesses to how he got it. There’s more to come.”
“The degree of destruction inflicted on this facility is beyond belief,” Koritt said. “All done in a failed attempt to eliminate us. I don’t understand the mentality of a creature willing to waste so much time and resources on a simple task.”
“Your people are so used to the tech magic of devices like the U-10, they’ve forgotten the art of the hammer,” Ty replied.
“What are you talking about?” Koritt asked with genuine puzzlement.
“What he means is don’t try to be fancy. Just take a big hammer and beat your opponent with it until you win,” Wraith replied.
At that moment, Lincoln moaned and began to stir. Her eyes popped open, and she scrambled back against the nearest wall. Her expression was wild.
“Koritt, I thought you were going to keep her out until we got back to Elvis,” Ty said.
“The tranquilizer I administered should have worked for hours. I’m afraid her metabolism has been altered. Her physical responses are not normal,” Koritt replied.
“Where are we? What’s going on?” Lincoln asked as her eyes darted about.
She focused on Ty and leaped at him. The unexpected move tumbled them to the floor and almost sent them rolling down the stairs. Her strength and agility were stunning, and she straddled him.
“You knocked me out! Why?” Lincoln yelled.
The red dots in her irises swirled around her star-shaped pupils. Ty thought the patterns were attractive; however, despite his efforts, her iron grip made it impossible for him to do more than wiggle.
“You shot at me?” Ty replied as he tried to struggle free.
“I missed on purpose,” Lincoln growled and pressed harder. “I even tossed my gun to you. I trusted you.”
Wraith jumped on Lincoln’s back and wrapped her arm around her neck in a choke hold. Despite her best efforts, Frost’s neck felt like it was made of concrete. The hold had no effect.
When Koritt realized Wraith’s idea was futile, he grabbed Lincoln’s arm and tried to jerk it toward him. It was like trying to uproot a mature oak tree with his bare hands. Her strength was astounding.
Ty realized overpowering Lincoln was useless. He didn’t think she was trying to hurt him. He got the impression she didn’t know her own strength. Trying a different tact, he softened his voice.
“You were confused and asking for help. You look better now.”
Lincoln was amazed Ty wasn’t belligerent and fighting harder to get away from her. She focused some of her attention on her body. She felt energized, uninjured. She noticed her grip on Ty had relaxed to the point he could escape, yet he didn’t move.
“I feel better,” Lincoln replied with genuine surprise. “Looks like your knockout med had some nice side-effects.”
Wraith released her useless choke hold and climbed to her feet. Seeing Wraith back off, Koritt released Frost’s arm.
Wraith could tell Ty’s calm voice was easing the tension in Frost’s back and arm muscles. She decided to try and refocus the woman’s thoughts.
“You need to know Cruneval is trying to kill us and destroyed part of the building to do it. We kept you safe,” Wraith said.
In response, Lincoln leaped off Ty and jumped for the stairwell door. Her bound was impossible for normal muscles. She opened the door just enough to survey the lobby.
“I am astounded by the changes the nanobots have made,” Koritt trilled. “I find my curiosity, about their affinity to your genome, is stimulated.”
“You’re a bit dramatic,” Ty groused as he climbed to his feet.
“Quiet!” Lincoln shushed. “The VTOL is veering away from us. We need to get out of this death trap while we have a chance.”
“How do you know?” Koritt asked.
Pointing at one of her ears, she said, “My hearing is way more sensitive.”
Ty and Wraith looked at each other in amazement. Lincoln had understood Koritt’s native language and responded to him in chirps and twitters. Without their suit translator, they wouldn’t have understood what was said.
Lincoln noticed their stares and said in English, “Side-effect of whatever you did to me. Kinda nice and weird all at the same time.”
Her attention waivered, and she looked through the door opening.
“I hear Elvis approaching. We need to get out in the open to be picked up,” she said and crept into the lobby.
“I’m with her,” Koritt declared as he followed. “Staying in this structure is suicide.”
“I’d rather die outside than be crushed inside,” Wraith said as she joined them.
Frowning and adjusting the U-10 strap over his shoulder, Ty followed her.
***
“All systems nominal except stealth mode,” Collins advised. “The evasive action I took to escape the beam weapon caused some minor injuries, but nothing a few splints and Band-Aids won’t . . .”
“Stop blithering and get us back on offense,” Cruneval shouted.
“Sir, with all due respect, without stealth mode, we are open to attack,” Collins responded. “I’m hiding the ship in a cloud bank to evade their sensors.”
Cruneval gritted his teeth. The loss of stealth was shocking but only served to emphasize the importance of the alien tech. It made his decision simple.
“Very well, target the building with a cruise missile,” Cruneval ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” Collins replied. “Weaponry control. Program the coordinates. I will give the order to fire when I am clear of the clouds.”
“Time to target?” Cruneval asked.
“Approximate time to target is two seconds.”
“Let’s see them stop that,” Cruneval smiled.
***
“My scans indicate Koritt and all our crew members inside the building are alive and making their way outside,” Elvis announced.
“Great news,” Hashtag replied. “Let’s pick them up.”
“One moment. It appears the enemy aircraft has returned. Its orientation and stationary position are typical firing precursors.”
The viewscreen magnified the VTOL, and its nose was pointing in their general direction.
“Could you please talk clearer than mud?” Psycho asked. “We’re ground - not aerial combatants.”
With what sounded like an electronic sigh, Elvis said in his best first grade teacher voice, “They’re going to shoot something at us.”
As if on cue, a metal tube dropped from somewhere under the belly of the plane and sprouted wings. A plume of fire erupted from the tail of the tube, and it darted forward.
“That looks like a cruise missile!” Roadkill bellowed.
“Get us between that thing and Ty’s group!” Fisheye ordered.
With dizzying speed, Elvis flitted to a spot between the SEED Building and the in-coming missile. Just as he reached the location, the missile struck.
The resulting explosion was enormous. Walls of flame and black smoke engulfed the alien craft, shaking it despite the inertial dampeners that protected its crew from the effects of momentum.
“Elvis, report,” Hashtag said. “Elvis!”
A speaker hummed and clicked before Elvis responded. “The explosive caused a moderate disruption in my gravitic dampeners, but otherwise my systems are nominal.”
“I can’t believe you put us in the path of a cruise missile,” Psycho complained.
“Yeah, you’re a tad conceited about your ability to withstand our weapons,” Roadkill warned.
“Not at all,” Elvis replied. “My hull is designed to resist abuse from a variety of sources. The unsophisticated weapons I have encountered are of little concern.”
“You sound cocky,” Fisheye warned. “That EMP grounded you.”
“You are correct, but I have countermeasures now in effect. No future EMP will harm me.”
“You’re wasting your breath,” Hashtag said with a worried look. “He thinks he’s invincible.”
“Yeah, and we’re just along for the ride,” Fisheye frowned.
***
“Well, what happened? How much of the building is left?” Cruneval asked.
“The missile didn’t reach it, Sir,” the weaponry tech replied. “It struck something and exploded over 700 meters short of the target.”
“What? How?” Cruneval yelled.
“Smoke is still obscuring our long-range camera, but it appears something got between the building and the missile, Sir,” the tech responded.
Cruneval cursed and slammed his fist on the desk. This entire situation was getting out of hand. Lavender and his people were insufferable pests.
Stabbing at the transmit button on his ship comm, he said, “Communications, patch me through to my ground assault team. I think we’re going to have to retake the building by force.”
The response was startling, “Sir, all communication with ground assault ceased before the attack that forced us into the clouds. I’ve tried to contact them several times without success.”
A chill shivered its way down Cruneval’s spine as he digested the news. Somehow, his ground troops had disappeared, his specialized Seeker had lost its stealth ability and a cruise missile had failed to reach its target.
His ship comm clicked and the weapons tech said, “Sir, we now have a clear picture of the building and grounds. The alien spacecraft put itself between the building and the missile. The explosion appears to have done no damage to the thing. We could use our last cruise missile in hopes of a different result, but the odds aren’t favorable.”
“Prepare to deploy the MOAB and await further orders,” Cruneval growled as the reality of his defeats nipped at his ego.
Disbelief turned to anger which morphed into smoldering rage. Cruneval had considered himself inviolable. Purloined off-world tech had always given him easy victories over every opponent he encountered, Human or alien.
He didn’t feel helpless, but nothing he tried seemed to work on Lavender. Here he was, forced out of his own building and into a defensive posture like some kind of weakling.
He thought of the orange capsules in his pocket, and a smile began curling his lips. The physical strength and agility Frost had after being given just one of the things was breathtaking. Not only that, her life-threatening wounds had healed. Two capsules should have a geometric effect.
Pushing them from the blister pack into the palm of his hand, he recalled their effect took several minutes to manifest in Frost’s body. Without further consideration, Cruneval popped both into his mouth and swallowed.
Expecting an instant reaction, he was disappointed when nothing happened. Looking at his watch, he kept his eye on the second hand as it snicked around. At 45 seconds, he felt a tickle in his gut. At one minute, 15 seconds, he began screaming in pain. He felt like thousands of fire ants were crawling around his stomach and intestines, stinging him. His colon spasmed, and he soiled himself. His hands began twitching, and his ring and little fingers merged. The joining happened so fast, it looked like the fingers melted together. The skin on his face felt hot, and a blinding migraine dropped him to his knees. A jolt of electricity flashed down his spine, at which point he flopped to the deck, unconscious.
***
The lobby was a wreck. The floor was strewn with all sorts of debris, and major portions of the ceiling had collapsed.
A thick layer of dust covered everything, and it puffed with every step. An ominous creaking sounded from what was left of the ceiling. Ty couldn’t help the premonition that the upper floors were going to collapse before they could get out of the building.
Frost scurried across the obstacles like she was taking a morning stroll in a park. She moved with a fluid, cat-like grace that made Ty feel clumsy. She reached the shattered picture windows and picked her way across thick shards of glass to the sidewalk before Wraith had crossed half the lobby.
With a look of disbelief at how slow Ty, Wraith and Koritt were moving, Lincoln said, “I’ll try to get Elvis’ attention while you work your way out. Try to hustle it up.”
Before Ty could respond, the flare of a massive explosion appeared in the sky behind her and moments later, a wave of concussive force struck the building with the force of a sledgehammer. The entire building rocked on its foundations, and the weakest parts of the ceiling crumbled.
A thick cloud of dust swirled around the lobby. Staying in the shelter of the steel doorframe, Ty shouted over the noise of the collapsing building, “Wraith, Lincoln, Koritt! Talk to me. Are you safe?”
With belated coughs, strangled voices and angry chitters, they all reported no injuries. Wraith struggled from under an overturned couch and brushed at the glass shards stuck to her clothing. Her hair looked frosted by the dust covering it. Koritt stood staring at Lincoln. The air pressure wave propelled by the explosion had blown her back into the building. Broken glass had sliced her arms and face in several places. Curious about what had Koritt’s attention, Ty followed his gaze. Lincoln’s cuts seemed to writhe and then stitch themselves together. She didn’t seem to be aware of the transformation. In seconds, the bleeding stopped and her wounds healed without scarring.
“Why are you staring at me?” Lincoln asked. “Am I hurt somewhere?”
Ty was speechless. Koritt said, “I think he’s just gratified you aren’t injured. How do you feel?”
“Annoyed with the delay. I still hear Elvis. I’m going to get out in the open where he can see me.”
She shuffled across the broken glass like it was sand, leaped across the access road to the grass on its other side and disappeared.
“She’s making me feel uncoordinated,” Wraith griped.
“Tell me about it,” Ty responded. “Koritt, did you see her wounds disappear?”
“The nanobots are now a part of her body. They absorb energy like any other cell and are self-replicating. Once the ideal equilibrium of health and strength are achieved, the status is hard-wire programmed and maintained by the system. She will age like a normal Human, but the nanobots and enhancements to her body are permanent,” Koritt replied.
“I’m concerned more about changes to her mental health,” Ty said.
“The nanobots will err toward her survival, given her age, gender and general health at the time of their introduction to her body. They are programmed to enable their host to exist in any environment and will do whatever is necessary to fulfill their purpose,” Koritt explained.
“The only problem is they were programmed by Insectoid scientists. The predisposition for survival in a cockroach is not the same as for a Human,” Ty said.
“You ignored my warning and gave her the meds,” Koritt replied. “Don’t blame me for your decisions. Besides, the benefits are obvious.”
Ty frowned and Wraith said, “He’s right. What’s the old saying? Don’t kill the messenger.”
For a moment, Ty felt like Koritt and Wraith were ganging up on him, but he decided they were right. He had thrown caution to the wind in his efforts to keep Lincoln alive. Maybe he had seen too much death in his life. Maybe it was something else. He put his thoughts aside as he reached the shattered windows and stepped out of the building.
Elvis had landed on the lawn, and his access ramp was lowering.