Neal Asher - The Engineer Reconditioned

“Little girls!” yelled Conard. “Fucking worms!”

The whole incredible fiasco brought home to Kellor that there could be only one result now. There seemed no chance of him thieving some of this Jain technology, and he still had no idea who Conard’s contact was. If he judged Conard right, the man would go tactical next, and if that didn’t bring the ECS ship in, Christ knows what would. He glanced aside as Jurens came out of the toilet looking annoyed. Kellor attributed this to the patch of blood on his first officer’s trousers — Jurens made a mess but was normally very good on not getting it on himself.

“We’ll have to use the tacticals,” said Conard.

It gave Kellor no satisfaction to be right. He gave the nod to Speck, who had moved close to the other aide. Speck preferred the garrotte for close work. He was so completely casual as he opened out the shining wire and looped it over the aide’s head. One quick jerk and a ballet twist and step away. The aide staggered, making horrible gobbling sounds and spewing blood everywhere. His head still remained on his shoulders by dint of the garrotte stopping at his vertebrae. Conard spun around and saw the man stumble and fall: the spastic movements, the bubbling tube of an oesophagus sticking out where it should not. He turned back and froze, staring into the hollow-mirrored cube that was the hole-making end of Kellor’s favourite little plasma gun. Kellor smiled. That moment again.

“No tacticals,” he said. “Tell him.”

Conard glanced at the hologram. The young soldier could only see Conard, and was too far gone in shock to know something was wrong.

Conard said, “Fire all the tactical nuclear weapons into that cave.” You’ve killed me , thought Kellor, then lowered his weapon and incinerated Conard’s groin and thighs so the man dropped screaming to the deck. Speck quickly transferred the holocamera to Kellor.

“Obey that order and you won’t get out of there alive,” said Kellor to the soldier. “And if you return now there’ll be a good bonus in it for you.” He knew he’d made a mistake right from the first word. The soldier stared at him for a moment then cut com. Kellor looked down at Conard who had stopped screaming and was now groaning. There would have been no pain at first anyway, thought Kellor, though there was pain now. He deliberately stood on Conard’s thigh so the cooked skin tore away from muscle. Conard started screaming again and scrabbled at his wrist holster. Kellor stamped on his hand then removed Conard’s little gun. He’d almost forgotten about that.

The sounds of battle died though the screaming lasted for some time after. The Janes did not scream. They fought even with the most hideous wounds. Abaron had seen one of them stooping over a struggling soldier, choking the man with something. It was only when Abaron stepped in close and shot the man in the head that he realised the Jane had the stump of her wrist jammed in the man’s mouth. That Jane had nodded her thanks and run back into the fray. Abaron retreated behind the slabs he and Chapra had chosen as their last place of defence.

“What’s happening now?” he asked. “Have we won?”

“You heard what Judd said,” said Chapra. She lay with the singun propped before her, staring out to where the cave was lit by luminescents spattered on the walls and floor. Suddenly she tensed, then relaxed. Judd and two Janes came quickly to join them.

“We must go deeper,” said Judd.

“Oh my God,” said Chapra, perhaps guessing.

The ground shifted and rock began to rain down. Abaron had time to see a wall of fire hurtling towards them before a Jane pushed him down and pressed herself over his head — protecting his precious brain. Without that protection his death might have been less protracted and painful.

“Have you got them on com yet!” yelled Kellor. He knew he was losing it. “For Chrissake try again!” Speck kept sending, kept trying to get something.

“Shut up!” yelled Kellor and fired once, silencing Conard’s crying. He turned back to the com consoles and screens. Tactical nukes, a hundred square kilometres incinerated. Thank Christ the CTDs remained aboard under ship control. He peered at the readouts on another screen. Nothing but chaff and fuzz. Well, if the ECS ship attacked he’d make a fight of it, maybe get away… Then the Cable Hogue shut down its screens and jamming. There was an energy surge. Some kind of particle weapon. All the screens went out for a moment. When they re-established Kellor saw that the remaining gunships were now just metallic fog.

“Get us out of here!” he screamed at Jurens as he reached for the controls to the CTD launcher. Perhaps it would delay… perhaps…

“Oh Christ,” said Speck, dull horror in his voice.

The sheer hopelessness of the situation made Kellor hesitate for a moment, a second. In that second he knew how they had felt, all those opponents, in their moment of defeat. And in that second the dreadnought wrenched the Samurai from orbit, killing most of its crew with the massive acceleration. The flattened and distorted ship left a trail of fire across space, then rode a light-speed gravity wave towards the sun, where the antimatter in the CTDs would make not a wit of difference. The nine minutes of that journey were the longest of Kellor’s life as his shattered body lay hard against the deck. With the ship inside the gravity wave he did not feel any more acceleration. What held him down was a fluke of broken computers and distorted conduits that had re-established artificial gravity at six gees. He couldn’t even scream.

Diana was still boiling. Vacillation and bloody incompetence and when there came the inevitable enquiry she knew they’d manage to make the shit stick to her. If she’d had her own way she’d have gone straight in and they wouldn’t have had a chance to use nukes. She looked at the screen showing the blasted ground the shuttle overflew.

“How far?” she asked.

“Ten kilometres. We should be there in a few minutes, Captain,” said the pilot, obviously a little nervous. Diana snorted. Well perhaps they could salvage something from this mess. She glanced at Alexion, who had remained curiously reticent after witnessing the destruction of the mercenary ship. People took their first taste of war in different ways. His reaction to the ground blast had been a look of extreme pain. His precious Jain, gone.

The shore soon came into view and the pilot brought the shuttle down by the ATV parked there. Troops were standing by the ATV dressed in full environment and radiation suits. Diana pulled down the visor on her gear and headed for the lock. Alexion meekly followed.

“Where is it?” she asked the commander, before he had a chance to salute. The man pointed down the beach. “Okay, let’s have a look.” Diana walked down the ash-covered sand to the figure sat upon a rock.

“Which one are you?” she asked.

Its soft outer covering had been burned away and what remained was a seared metal skeleton containing the sealed mechanisms of its existence. It regarded her with brown lidless eyes set in its blackened skull. Its white teeth were stained, and because its lips were gone it seemed to be grinning.

“I am Judd,” it rasped at her, black flakes shooting from its mouth.

“What happened to them, Judd? The other Golem, Chapra and Abaron?”

“Died. All died.”

“Chapra and Abaron are dead?”

“No.”

“You said they died.”

“Yes.”

Obviously screwed, thought Diana. They might get something from its memory.

“What about the Jain? We know it wasn’t killed in the ship.” As she said this Diana surveyed the devastation and focused on the bloated creatures floating in the shallows. The neutron bursts had almost certainly done for the alien. It was now as much part of history as the rest of its kind. Perhaps Smith could excavate it. She returned her attention to Judd as the Golem raised a hand missing three fingers and pointed with the remaining one out to sea.