'Stand by, Five.'
'Tenners, One. We're going in—one way or another!'
Closer. Closer! This was it—we were almost at the gates.
The wind moaned in my ears.
'If that door doesn't open, you die, Systie.' It was frighteningly clear that Snow Leopard was totally serious.
'Open up, Bell,' the Systie said on his net. 'We're back.'
'Goodbye, Thinker,' Valkyrie said softly, on private. 'I always loved you. We're going to die together.'
'I'll never forget you, Valkyrie,' I responded. 'Watch yourself!'
'Thinker, I want to live through this,' Priestess said, 'then we live together, forever.'
'I promise, Priestess—forever!'
The massive doors moved—two gigantic cenite doors sliding open, the screeching of tortured metal, revealing only darkness within. It put a chill to my flesh. I glanced at my chron. It was 314/06/17 CGS, 0612 local.
'Death,' Snow Leopard whispered reverently. 'Five, stunstar. Beta, attack, auto x.' Psycho stepped forward and fired immediately right into the doorway, even as the gates were opening. The darkness erupted, a white flash, a tremendous boom, and a great cloud of dust and debris blasted out of the gates. We charged forward screaming, into the Mound, firing auto x.
Chapter 9
The Kingdom of the Doomed
When the echoes died and the smoke cleared we found ourselves in a cavernous dark metallic hall, littered with shredded DefCorps gear. A bloody spectre raised one twitching arm from the deck, then collapsed. There were three more of them—Systies, unarmored. Pale lights high on the walls faintly illuminated a hall from Hell.
'Four enemy dead,' Priestess reported. The Systies had camped out here. Dropboxes and airbeds and cooking gear and rations were strewn around the floor. There were a lot of civilian items as well, clothing and blankets and shoes. The walls and ceiling were made of massive, flattened coils of dark, alien cenite. Coils—I had seen this before in the Omni base on Andrion 3. It was like being inside a gigantic, evil snake. The walls and ceiling were cold and wet. We were inside the beast now, inside the Mound, inside the alien world of the O's.
'We're sorry, Bell. We're sorry!' The Systie, our prisoner, was on his knees before one of the dead. Our Systie was an Outworlder, I noted, a thin face, short hair. An Outworlder, in the service of the System. There were millions like that—not that they had any choice.
'Secure this room—get that door closed!' Snow Leopard ordered. We were all inside now, the whole squad, armored and armed, charged up and ready to fire.
'What about the civilians?'
'They'll be safer outside—believe us!' The Systie commented miserably.
'Leave them outside,' Snow Leopard ordered. 'and get that Systie out of his armor.' Merlin found the controls; and the massive double doors began the journey back to the closed position, shrieking all the way, the outside light gradually fading. It closed with a terrifying bang. It was so dark inside that my darksight activated.
'Still no psyprobe,' Tara announced. 'The Systie is no longer psyched. He's completely normal.'
'It's the stunstar,' Merlin explained. 'It scrambles electroneural activity; it neutralized the psych.'
Gildron moaned. We were scanning the walls and ceiling. Scrapper and Twister unlinked the Systie's armor. The chestplate fell noisily to the floor.
'Merlin, wreck those controls,' Snow Leopard said. 'I want those doors sealed. Nobody gets in.'
'Tenners.' Merlin raised his E. My heart was hammering. Nobody gets in—wonderful. But nobody gets out, either. Snow Leopard was truly terrifying, if you really thought about it. The controls glowed and spat sparks as Merlin melted them with the laser. We lock the door behind us—permanently. Now it's simple—victory or death. Snow Leopard didn't have to say a word. We all understood. I looked over at Tara. I could see into her faceplate. She was faintly smiling, her E raised and ready to fire. It was the smile of a saint. And I understood—we were on holy ground. Satan was up ahead, writhing in the shadows. And we were going to kill him, or die trying.
'Talk, Systie,' Snow Leopard said. 'Where are the V? We're after the V.'
'It must be insane,' the Systie responded slowly, looking around at us each in turn. 'Legion must all be insane. It's after the V? The V will kill it all!'
'Answer or you die.' Snow Leopard raised his E and pointed it right at the Systie's chest. The Systie was out of his armor now, sweating, still on his knees, clad only in a dirty litesuit.
'We'll show it the V,' the Systie said. 'We'll show it our world. We call it the Kingdom—the Kingdom of the Doomed. It's the V's world. We're just the caretakers. But we're just as doomed as the others.'
'Reception, Reception, Processing, come in. Report! What happened?' It was a tinny voice, coming from a handcom on the deck. The Systie reached down for it but One's booted heel pinned his hand to the floor.
'Who's that, Systie?'
'It's the rest of our guys—Processing. They're on duty inside. This is Reception and H.Q. It's not much of an office but it's all we've got.'
One eased his foot off the Systie's hand. 'Tell them there's been an accident. One of the civilians grabbed an SG—no friendlies hurt. Tell them to come and assist.'
The Systie picked up the instrument. 'Processing, it's Transport. We're back—there's been an accident. One of the packs grabbed an SG and we had to take it out. Nobody hurt. Can it help us clean up the mess?'
'We're on the way, Transport.'
'Move it, Systie!' Snow Leopard barked. 'Lead the way. We meet them—now!'
Another massive cenite door slid open, the screech of metal on metal. A darkened corridor, sweating icy metal walls, the Systie's breath frosty in the air.
'Processing is to the right,' he said. We followed, our E's raised, every sense alert. This was the domain of the O's—a narrow corridor, a high ceiling hidden in the dark. The creatures were here, somewhere, waiting to lash out at us.
'I want stunstar, Five,' Snow Leopard ordered. The Systies were on my tacmap now, coming out of a corridor door up ahead. Psycho pushed forward past Snow Leopard and fired. A blinding flash and a titanic bang, the shockwave rocking us back on our heels and knocking our Systie off his feet.
'Recover prisoners! Medic up!' The corridor was smoking. Three Systies sprawled on the deck, out cold, clad in litesuits and coldcoats, armed with SG's. Priestess was on them in an instant, checking the life signs.
'Snow Leopard!' Tara looked around us uneasily, one hand out as if testing the air. The psybloc units on our helmets activated simultaneously, popping to life, then crackling like novas, filling the corridor with glaring light and dark leaping shadows.
'Psybloc grenades,' Snow Leopard said calmly. 'Ahead and behind.' He tossed one up the corridor and Valkyrie lobbed one back to cover our rear. They ignited, double explosions, white-hot stars spitting sparks, and we scanned the walls and ceilings as ice-cold sweat trickled down my temples.
'Secure those Systies, Nine,' Snow Leopard ordered. 'Then follow us. Get the weapons, guys.' I picked up another SG. We were bristling with weapons by now. Priestess and Merlin slipped restraints over the unconscious Systies' wrists. The Systies had come out of another autosealing door, leading into the interior of the Mound.
'Get that door open, Systie.' Our Systie was still with us, right by One's side. He reached out to a black panel and the door began sliding open. I hurled in a psybloc grenade and it exploded inside, popping and glaring, lighting up the interior.
