Judas Unchained

“I can see the fire from here,” Cat called. “You must be visible to half the aliens at Blackwater Crag.”

Morton winced. Up ahead of him, the ravine was a sharp crack of flickering pyrotechnics against the black foothill. With or without jammed communications, it would act like a beacon to any flyers. His suit deployed the hyper-rifle from its right forearm sheath.

A hefty plume of soil and flame shot up from the edge of the ravine where one of the ambushers was lying. Morton saw a human shape pinwheel through the air, backlit by the raw energy raging inside the ravine.

“Four flyers heading your way,” Parker called.

Morton saw the orange symbols creep into his virtual vision.

“Can you close it down?” The Cat shouted.

“Not a chance,” Morton said. “One of them’s dead, the other two are still shooting.”

“Stop them!” Parker demanded. “How difficult can it be?”

“We’re coming,” the Doc said. “Parker, with me.”

“Oh, Christ.”

One final eight-meter hurdle jump over a horizontal tree and Morton landed on the rim of the ravine, his boots thudding into spongy soil up to the ankles. He was already pointing his hyper-rifle. A simple circular targeting graphic materialized in the center of his virtual vision. The sneekbots were triangulating coordinates for him. An alien armor suit slid smoothly into the orange circle, which immediately flashed green. Morton fired.

The hyper-rifle was designed with one purpose: to puncture the force field projected by alien armor. Even so, Morton was slightly surprised when the small atom laser’s half-second burst drilled clean through the suit, sending the alien flying backward three meters through the air to splash into the stream. Water closed over the dark shape, hissing briefly as the heat produced a small cloud of steam. How about that, the military got something right.

Rob was crouching beside him—presenting a smaller target silhouette. He fired his hyper-rifle. Morton found the last alien and shot it. The ravine was abruptly plunged into darkness again. Just a few serpent shapes of grass embers glowed where the alien patrol had made their stand. The damp night air was extinguishing them quickly.

“Who the hell are you?” a voice challenged.

“The cavalry,” Rob told him. “Your lucky day, huh.”

“Flyer overhead,” the Doc said. His voice was strangely calm. “You’re going to need covering fire, Morton.”

“No!” Cat warned. “Don’t!”

Morton’s telemetry display showed him the Doc launching an HVvixen. The slim missile accelerated at fifteen gees, its plasma exhaust piercing the air behind it like a runaway solar flare. It slammed into the flyer’s force field, flash-releasing its remaining energy. The flyer detonated into an incandescent spherical shock wave that billowed out at supersonic velocity to envelop its three partners. They exploded in furious twisting gouts of sapphire vapor.

“Gotcha, you bastards,” the Doc crooned.

“You retard motherfucker,” the Cat screamed. “You’ve just killed us all.”

“Only these bodies, Cat,” the Doc said lightly. “Your essence will have continuity.”

The dazzling lightstorm began to drain out of the night sky, dissipating into a thousand sparkling contrails that sank slowly toward the ground. Morton’s suit sensors picked out the three armored humans standing in the middle of the scintillation blizzard.

“Nice shot, man,” Parker said admiringly.

“Run,” Morton whispered. “Run now. Get out of there!”

One figure was already moving. The Cat: using her armor suit boost function to its maximum, accelerating her helter-skelter sprint to over sixty kilometers an hour. She was heading up the slope toward the roof of writhing cloud.

“Four more,” Parker said. “Make that six.”

“You mean ten,” the Doc said. “Morton, Rob, get the civilians out of here.”

“Yeah,” Parker said. “Protect and serve.”

The one surviving ambusher was walking unsteadily toward Morton.

“What was that? What is happening?”

“They’re not going to make it,” Rob said.

Five HVvixens shrieked into the night.

Morton jumped toward the survivor as vivid white light silently washed across them. “Get down. Get into the ravine.” He didn’t give the man any opportunity to argue. His suit arms closed around him, picking him up effortlessly. They both tumbled over the edge. Behind them, the devil’s own fireworks display filled the sky with carnage.

“Bad guys falling,” Parker reported, laughing gleefully.

“They found us,” the Doc reported. “More incoming. Shit. Eighteen. Four of them are big. New flyer type for your catalogue, Morton.” His suit’s sensors were relaying a stream of information. The data faltered as several beam weapons locked on to him. “You guys had better go for deep cover. Make this relevant, Morton. I’m counting on you.” He fired another HVvixen. It never got ten meters from his suit’s force field before the deluge of energy from the alien beam weapons ruptured it.

Parker’s screaming was loud in Morton’s ears as he was hurled through the air by the explosion. Telemetry showed him the man’s suit start to falter from the punishing overload.