Wings of Redemption (The Terra Nova Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  “You know nothing!” The man shifted the pack in his arms, opening the zipper.

  Hale took a quick step forward as the man took his eye from him, looking into the pack. He stopped short, almost to the doorway, when the man’s eyes flicked back to him. “Don’t do this. We can work this out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out.” He slipped his hand inside the pack, his expression changing from pure rage to something akin to contentment.

  Hale’s blood ran cold. “No!”

  “I love you, Jessica.”

  “NO!” Hale screamed, stepping forward.

  “HALE!”

  Arms suddenly wrapped around Hale, pulling him off his feet, twisting away from the lab. The explosion shook the lab, knocking both men off their feet and throwing them into air. Hale felt the heat on his body just before he slammed into the wall, cracking it and knocking the air from his lungs. Hale dropped to the floor, coughing as Handley’s body landed on top of him, a high-pitched ringing filling his ears.

  Small gouts of flame and debris rained down around them as Hale struggled to regain his breath. Handley’s limp body pressed down against him, making it difficult to move. Hale tried to speak, but only managed to inhale a mouthful of smoke. He broke into a fit of coughing, his lungs burning with every spasm.

  He pushed up onto his elbows, carefully shrugging the captain off. Handley’s limp body slid to the floor, unmoving, and as Hale scooted away, he saw why. The man’s back was completely obliterated, his uniform burned away, his skin a bleeding, charred mess.

  “Handley!” Hale wheezed, getting to his knees. Blood ran from the captain’s ears, dripping onto the floor. Taking care not to cause any more damage, Hale eased the man onto his side. Handley’s eyes were closed, but his mouth hung open.

  Hale pressed fingers into the man’s neck, searching, but knowing already what’d he’d find. No pulse. He rolled Handley onto his back then bent down to give CPR. “Captain!”

  He blew into the man’s mouth, feeling warm blood on his lips. He cupped his hands together and started compressions. Handley’s head rocked back and forth like a rag doll with every push. “No! Handley! Come on!”

  His words sounded like he was underwater, the ringing still drowning out everything else. He bent down again, forcing air into Handley’s lungs, then straightened and resumed pumping.

  “Please! Don’t do this!” He pressed his fingers into the man’s neck again, feeling nothing. “Son of a bitch!”

  Hale lost track of time and space as he worked. His vision went red. Desperation overtook him as he pumped against Handley’s chest, shouting for the man to wake up.

  In the distance, Hale thought he heard someone shouting, but that wasn’t right. There wasn’t anyone here but the captain. His mind was playing tricks on him. He had to save Handley. Where was the medical team?

  “I need a medic!” He pumped harder. “Someone get me a medic!”

  “Ken!” a voice shouted.

  He felt hands grabbing him, pulling him away.

  “No!” He tried to pull away. “I can save him!”

  Another set of hands wrapped around him. “Hale! Stop!”

  He felt someone next to his ear and the first voice spoke again. He knew that voice. “Ken, it’s Marie. Please, it’s over.”

  His vision slowly came back as he turned and looked into his wife’s eyes. The ringing in his ears lessened and he felt his body start to shake. “I…”

  “Shhh,” Marie said, touching his face. Pain flared where she touched him and he pulled away. Blood covered her fingers.

  He reached up and examined his cheek, feeling the warm blood. Something had torn open his flesh and it burned like he’d been branded with a hot iron. He coughed, spraying specks of blood from his mouth and sending waves of agony through his body.

  Someone stepped over him, moving to examine Handley’s body. Martel looked up with a grim expression on her face and slowly shook her head. “He’s gone.”

  Pain, completely unrelated to the physical agony pulsing through his body, washed over Hale. His stomach turned and his face flushed as he got to his knees, using Marie’s hand for leverage.

  He coughed again, looking over the destruction caused by the explosion. Several fires burned inside the lab, filling the air with black smoke. Electronics sparked and popped as emergency lights flickered. A cloud of smoke rolled past one of the tubes, revealing its destroyed frame and those behind it.

  Hale shook his head, turning back to Handley’s body. “He saved me.”

  Marie helped him to his feet, immediately embracing him. Hale pulled his wife close.

  “When I heard the explosion, I thought…”

  Hale put a hand on the back of his wife’s head. “I know. So did I.”

  Marie pulled away, looking toward the destroyed lab. “Why did he do this?”

  Hale covered his mouth as another coughing fit came on. Martel grabbed an extinguisher off the wall and started putting out the remaining fires. Sparks shot out from one of the first pods, making them all jump.

  “Mère enculée,” Marie muttered.

  Hale released his wife and moved into the lab, shaking his head.

  The first tank was completely destroyed. Its outer frame warped and bent from the explosion, the interior, black and charred, had been consumed by flames. The terminal screen was covered in a spiderweb of cracks and the power link at the base sparked sporadically.

  Hale stepped forward, holding his breath, forcing himself to look inside. The remains of a half-grown doughboy lay inside the pod, bones black and flesh melted away. He turned away from the gore, his stomach turning, nausea threatening to bring him to his knees.

  Son of a bitch, Hale thought, moving to the next tank, then the next. The rest of the tanks were in similar condition, though the farther back Hale went, the worse the damage became. The sixth tank was completely destroyed. The blast had obliterated everything but the stand, the remains of which were still bolted to the floor.

  Martel stood up from where she’d been kneeling, kicking at something on the ground. “I think this was him.”

  Hale stepped over a twisted metal frame and saw what remained of a boot lying on the floor. He coughed again, once more taking in the entire scene, trying to understand. He looked back at Handley’s corpse and rage filled him again. “What a fucking waste.”

  Chapter 21

  The Herald stood, framed by the door, one arm extended, palm facing MAC.

  I believe-believe he is trying to-to establish a secure communications link…zzzzt…with us, CID said.

  MAC straightened, considering the armored figure. He stood slightly taller than MAC, his polished red and blue armor reflecting the blinking server lights around him.

  “Is he attempting to infiltrate our operational systems?” MAC asked.

  No. Communication only.

  “Allow the link.”

  A voice sounded through MACs internal speakers. “You are Regulos.” The Herald’s words were more a statement than a question.

  “Correct,” MAC said.

  The next thing the Herald said came through his external speakers. “Surrender or be destroyed.” Then, through the secure link, he said, “We don’t have a lot of time. I need to know right now—will you help me bring down the Emperor?”

  MAC considered for a millicycle, then said, “Yes.”

  Through his externals, the Herald said, “Stand down, now.”

  He is-is a contradiction…zzzzt…

  “You are the voice of the Triumvirate,” MAC said.

  “I am, but not by choice,” he said over the secure link. Then the armored faceplate lifted, revealing the Herald’s hairless face as his eyes almost pleaded. “My name is Jared Hale. I need your help.”

  “Our designation is MAC-1968-CID-B2. We serve the Regulos Core.”

  The Herald’s head moved side to side. “We?”

  “Correct.”

  “I’m going to attack you,” the Herald said
, his faceplate dropping back into place with a metallic clink. “Just go with it.”

  A short whine pierced the silence as the Herald lifted his hand. Over his externals, he shouted, “For Kyrios!” A blast of energy shot through the air, hitting MAC dead center on his chest, knocking him back a step. The additional armor plating protected his internal systems from any damage, but even so, MAC’s optical display flickered slightly at the impact.

  Minimal external damage, CID reported. Zzzzt…his-his weapon output is being-being limited. I do not believe his attacks-attacks are meant to disable.

  “I can’t talk for long,” Jared said, moving laterally to the right, firing again. The second shot went wide, striking a metal frame behind MAC, sending sparks spraying.

  MAC jumped, leaping over a row of servers as Drones Five and Six moved forward, targeting the Herald and firing. Jared’s arm came up, blocking the combined fire, then straightened and sent a beam through Drone Five. MAC brought up one arm, its pulse laser unfolding from its recess, and fired. The beam cut through the metal floor at the Herald’s feet, leaving a glowing trail in its wake.

  “What do you want?” MAC asked, dodging another energy blast.

  “I need your help,” the Herald said.

  Another bolt of energy shot over MAC’s head, slamming into the wall behind him. He ducked, rushing forward through a gap between two server towers, tracking the Herald’s movements on his optical display. “This is an odd way of asking for assistance, human.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to act as if they’re watching this,” Jared said. He fired another barrage of bolts, all streaking past MAC as he ran. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  A bolt slammed into MAC’s shoulder, pushing him into the wall, cracking the plaster. MAC immediately pushed off, thrusters igniting and rocketing him across the room. Both arms came up, locking on to the Herald, and fired. Pulse lasers chewed through electronics and metal, sending sparks and tiny gouts of flame into the air. Three bolts smacked into the Herald’s leg, knocking it out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

  Metal clanged against metal as Jared pushed himself back to his feet. A flash of energy under his boots propelled him upward and he spun toward MAC, hand outstretched. A long stream of energy shot from his open palm, slamming into MAC’s chest armor, pushing him back.

  We will not be able-able to withstand much more of this, CID advised.

  “I need your help.”

  “Our mission is to serve the Core. If your request does not conflict, we may consider an alliance. What is it you require?”

  “I can give you the Triumvirate—I know I can—but not until my family is safe. I know Kyrios is keeping them somewhere on Ultar. I need you to find them. I can’t do it. They only let me out of their sight on rare occasions, and never for extended periods.”

  The Herald fired again. Twin beams of energy cut through a row of server stacks, sending sparks spraying. Metal shelves snapped apart, toppling over as the components they held sparked and popped.

  MAC ducked as another beam sliced through the air in front of him, and he twisted and fired back. His pulse laser caught the Herald in the shoulder, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.

  “My mission is to protect the Core,” MAC said. “Nothing can be allowed to interfere with that.”

  “Where do you think they’re going to attack first?” Jared asked, picking himself up. “You saw what happened on Diasore, right? You know what they took?”

  The-the-the Core sliver…zzzzt, CID said.

  As MAC dodged another series of attacks, he processed every single variable pertaining to what the Herald suggested. Should he assist a species completely unknown to the Regulos? Where did they come from? Why did they come here? What did their existence mean to the Core? The possibility that everything the Herald said was a lie weighed heavily on MAC’s decision.

  We cannot deviate from-from-from our mission, CID told him.

  MAC jumped over a metal rail, firing again as blasts from the Herald tore chunks out of the wall behind him. “I know.”

  CID pressed on. He betrayed his-his own…zzzzt…people.

  “You ask for trust,” MAC said. “But you betrayed your own people to the Triumvirate. This action makes it difficult to trust you.”

  The Herald took several quick steps then jumped into the air. He sailed across the room, landing in front of MAC, grabbing hold of MAC’s arms and twisting them back. He shoved hard, slamming MAC back against the wall, caving it in with a loud crack. MAC tried to push back, but the armored figure’s surprising strength held him in place.

  The Herald leaned in, his helmet almost touching MAC’s face. “They have my family. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “We all have choices.”

  “No,” the Herald said, shaking his head. “I didn’t. Help me and I might be able to stop them.”

  MAC activated his thrusters, launching them both into the air, arcing across the chamber over rows of sparking, smoking electronics. He twisted, throwing the Herald down, sending him crashing into one of the metal towers. It folded around his armored suit, partially pinning him.

  MAC set down a few paces away, pulse lasers locked and ready. “How do I find them?”

  The Herald ripped his arm free, folding the metal frame back and standing. “Kyrios has them in stasis. I know they’re here, on Ultar, but wherever it is, it’s not connected to the main network. It’ll be heavily guarded.”

  I have mapped-mapped several remote facilities…zzzzt…, CID said. It is possible-possible he is speaking the truth-truth.

  “Once I know they are safe, I can bring the Triumvirate’s entire world down around their heads. I’ll rip those bastards apart one piece at a time.”

  Warnings flashed on MAC’s optical display a microcycle before an energy beam slammed into his back. The impact knocked him forward, optical display flickering. A feed from Drone Two appeared as three Netherguard entered the room, halberds blasting.

  Alert! CID said.

  More beams tore through the air as MAC moved to one side, twisting to return fire. His first shot took a Netherguard in the chest, knocking him back into one of his companions. His second ripped through the third’s face, dropping it where it stood. Two more Netherguard appeared in the doorway behind their fallen comrades, pushing their way into the room. Two more followed.

  We need to leave-leave-leave, CID said.

  “Agreed.” MAC fired again, scanning the ceiling above as CID overlaid the building’s schematics over the visual feed. A small launcher unfolded from a recess in his shoulder and six tiny missiles fired, each trailing equally tiny tails of white smoke as they twisted through the air. Each found their targets a microcycle later, turning the Netherguard into so much blood and gore. The explosion ripped through the surrounding walls and brought down the ceiling in a mass of plaster, metal, and dust.

  MAC raised a pulse laser and sliced a circular chunk out of the ceiling.

  Rerouting all available power-power, CID said.

  The panels on MAC’s back and legs opened, thrusters igniting. He turned to the Herald, who was just getting to his feet, and said, “I will help you.”

  The Herald hesitated at that, then said, “Thank you.”

  MAC pushed as much power to the thrusters as he could and launched himself into the air, filling the room with superheated exhaust and dust. He smashed through the remains of the ceiling, into the open-air chamber of the coolant room. He twisted, aiming for the opening he created when he crashed through the roof.

  Standing on the catwalks and accessing the damage were several Netherguard who turned, shouting in surprise. Two managed to get their energy halberds up to fire, but the beams went wide, missing MAC completely.

  The secondary thrusters on his back fired as more Netherguard added their fire to the attack, sending him hurtling through the opening and out of the building.

  Destination? CID asked as they lifted higher into the air.
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  MAC banked to the side, dodging a wild energy beam from below, and fed more power to the thrusters. He opened his map of the city over his optical display and, after searching for a microcycle, found what he was looking for. A red targeting icon appeared around the off-line Triumvirate facilities CID had located. “Let’s save his family.”

  Chapter 22

  Carson bounced on the balls of her feet, feeling more than a little naked without her Pathfinder armor, but even in just her black shorts and T-shirt, she wore more than her Zeis opponent. Standing on the other end of a red diamond emblazoned on the floor, Kalene wore thin strips of cloth that wrapped around her torso, barely covering her chest and hips.

  The Conclave’s assembly chamber was all but full, with more and more Zeis streaming in, finding positions wherever there was room. The cacophony of hundreds of conversations filling the massive space reverberated all around them and Benit had to practically shout over the noise.

  “Do not let yourself be forced out of the diamond.”

  Carson rocked her neck back and forth. “Simple enough. No other rules? Kicking, hitting below the belt?”

  “It is better to be disabled than to surrender.”

  “Right,” Carson said, grunting.

  Benit turned to West. “I’m sorry, but the honor only allows one second. It is recommended that someone with knowledge of the contest remains.”

  Carson met the Master Sergeant’s eyes and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  West considered them for a moment, gave an almost imperceptible nod, then moved off to join the rest of the team on the corner to Carson’s right. They all stood with their helmets off, focused intently on her and Kalene.

  “You got this, Chief!” Jerry shouted.

  Carson raised a fist to him in response then panned her gaze around the auditorium. Most of the attending Zeis were dressed in casual dress—loose-fitting pants and shirts, some with jackets, others without. The group that really stood out were the older Zeis, dressed in bloodred robes trimmed in gold. Their heads were covered in black trimmed in red, the thin fabric covering their bony ridges and falling back over their robes like a cloak. Most of the robes fit loosely over their frames, but some pulled tight against bulging midsections.