Stephen Berry - The Battle for Terra Two

L'Wrona twisted his blaster muzzle right, two soft clicks. "First squad, set weapons on diffused beam," he ordered as the last of the commandos entered the cavern. "Fire those cells. The rest of you, high alert." Aiming two-handed at the top tier of cells, he pulled the trigger, sweeping the broad beam slowly along the cell walls.

"It certainly is 'volatile,' " said Hochmeister, standing beside John. The two shielded their eyes as fierce green-tinged flames leaped toward the ceiling.

Fire raced along the catwalks as the commandos emptied their chargepaks into the walls. Thick, pungent smoke drifted down.

"S'Cotar!" shouted a commando.

Shalan-Actal and his force materialized in the vault's center. Blasters shrilled, blue-and-red bolts knifing through the smoke.

Choking, tears streaming down his face, John held his fire again and again as uncertain targets drifted through the smoke.

Something shoved him, hard. Caught off balance, he sprawled to the floor as a burning section of fused wall fell, exploding where he'd stood, showering him with molten fragments.

A thin hand reached down. John took it, letting Hochmeister help him up. The admiral tried to speak, then coughed. Shaking his head, he pointed toward the blasthole. John nodded. Together, they staggered toward the tunnel.

"Out!" L'Wrona ordered over the commnet. "Fall back!"

Feeling their way along the wall, John and Hochmeister made it to the blasthole.

The smoke wasn't as bad in the tunnel. Others staggered after them, choking and coughing, throwing themselves to the floor and the fresh stream of cold, clear air.

It slept, dimly aware that it was many yet one. Sleeping, it grew, the bonds between it entwining and thickening. Sensed but untested, it felt its strength also growing- strength it perceived as a warm glow, having no concept of strength, no concept of anything other than itself. Soon it would awake, an odd child of power, hungry and curious.

The pain struck without warning, a searing, devouring pain.

Wounded, it awoke, child of a warrior race. Terrified and angry, it lashed out.

Wheezing from the smoke, Shalan-Actal dropped Corporal N'Tron. The commando's head lolled to one side, neck broken, eyes blue and startled, staring sightless into the fire.

They are falling back through the blasthole, reported a warrior. Pursue?

One file only. All others, deploy foggers, tiers one through…

The fire went out, like a light turned off. The smoke was gone. The S'Cotar watched, unbelieving, as the breeding chambers repaired themselves, a green blur of speed.

The pain easing, it sought the source. There. Down there.

You are a fool, Shalan-Actal. You were warned about the growth accelerant.

Guan-Sharick? The Tactics Master followed that tendril of thought-within range. He tried flicking himself at it. He couldn't teleport.

It won't let you leave, will it? taunted Guan-Sharick.

What is it? he asked desperately.

Your children, Shalan-Actal. Your children becoming something Else. An angry child, Tactics Master.

The walls began rippling with cold green glow.

Out! ordered Shalan-Actal. Use the K'Ronarin blasthole.

Last one into the drainage pipe, L'Wrona turned, eyes streaming, and rolled a grenade back in. It detonated with a loud blast, blowback exploding into the tunnel, collapsing the blasthole.

The cold green fire left the wall in small clusters, drifting down to where the S'Cotar milled in confusion. Touching warriors' weapons, it released their potential just as the grenade detonated.

"Move, you hulk, move!" N'Trol stood at the Engineering station, glaring at the image ofV'Tran's Glory on the main screen. "Half our mass, one-third our power, and it won't budge." The engineer looked down at the tractor-lock readout, not believing. The telltale read force seven- the destroyer should have been trolling toward the cruiser like a hooked game fish.

"Full power," said D'Trelna, watching the screen. The portal continued turning and growing.

"We're at breakpoint, Commodore," said N'Trol. "Tie in more power, we'll be breathing vacuum."

D'Trelna swiveled around, facing the engineer. "Objection noted, Mr. N'Trol. Execute."

"Your ship," he shrugged, engaging override.

Implacablegroaned, engines straining against a seemingly immovable object. Vibrations shuddered down the long miles of the cruiser as the engines whined higher, pressed beyond design tolerance.

"Negative movement!" shouted N'Trol over the din.

"Hull sensors show fault lines-first, third, seventh through…"

"Cut down," ordered D'Trelna.

The engineer's fingers flew over his controls. The whining shuddering died.

"I'll take your damage control reports in a moment, N'Trol," D'Trelna said into the silence.

"Strange energy scan on the Maximus site," reported T'Ral.

"Define 'strange,' " said the commodore.

"Overlapping N-17 and N-30 groupings," said T'Ral, compiling separate readouts. "Fluctuating-every third series peaking five percent higher than the last.''

"The portal's stopped dilating, sir," said K'Raoda.

D'Trelna glanced up. "So it has."

"Well, we know what happens after that, don't we?"

"Sir?" said K'Raoda.

"Birth, idiot," said N'Trol, busy at his station.

"That portal's half the diameter of Terra's moon," said T'Ral. "The baby should be impressive."

"We're just going to sit here and wait?" asked N'Trol, transferring the damage control reports to the commodore's station.

"Mr. N'Trol," said D'Trelna, looking balefully at the engineer, "we may die in a few moments. So let me say that you are one of the finest technical officers I have ever seen-and I've seen a lot."

N'Trol grunted.

"You are also as ungracious, unmannered and selfish as you are competent. Had I my way, you'd be freely discharged and sent home."

"Why, thank you, Commodore."

"But I don't have the authority."

"Captain L'Wrona on tacband, sir."

D'Trelna switched into the pickup. "H'Nar! What's going on down there?"

L'Wrona leaned against the tunnel wall, survival jacket torn, flecked with green blood. His six surviving commandos were behind him, tending their wounds. "We torched and sealed the vault, J'Quel," he said, "but there's something weird happening in there." He stopped, covering his head as the ground rumbled, showering the party with bits of cement. The rumbling ceased. "There's seismic activity- seems to be centered in the vault."

"What's your assessment?"

"The mutation process Guan-Sharick was afraid of-it's here, I think-out of control. Way out of control." He turned his back to the wind knifing down the tunnel. "Maybe we triggered whatever's happening, maybe it's spontaneous."

Across the passageway from L'Wrona, John slumped wearily against the wall, then jerked away, back stinging. "H'Nar!" he called. "This wall's hot!"

Turning, L'Wrona's saw the wall further down the tunnel glowing a sullen red-the air seemed to ripple in the heat. Rivulets of molten rock and cement were forming into fiery streams that inched toward them, slowly swelling.

"Everyone out!" he called, pointing to the entrance. "Make for the river and the opposite shore!"

"She's had it," said Hochmeister, throwing a jacket over a gut-shot commando. He and John followed the others into the night and storm.

"J'Quel, we're out," reported L'Wrona, scrambling down the embankment and out onto the ice. "Commvector a shuttle down to us."

The wind had dropped, but the snow was coming thick, dry and stinging. They trudged in a ragged line across the cleanswept ice, making for the opposite shore.

Hochmeister slipped, starting to fall. An arm shot out, catching him.

"You're taking good care of me, Harrison," he said. "Why?"